Be Kind

I rose from sleep,

And there it came,

To stop my breath

To squelch my flame,

"You are unworthy,

Yours the blame,

You cannot hope

To win life's game"

But, deep inside,

I heard the words,

Encouraging,

"Be kind, Be kind"

 

How hard it is

To seek and find    

The path that leads

To peace of mind;

To heed the voice

That climbs the slope,

Carrying the seeds of hope,

To light our path,

 to conquer doubt,

The way is clear,

Its voice rings out,

"Be kind, be kind",

 

Pride will entice,

And ego take,

Crushing spirits

In their wake;

Their heavy shoes

Will weigh us down,

Direct our gaze

Inward and down;

Love stops cold

That toxic wheel; 

Walk together

And we'll heal,

Arm in arm,

In kindness, building hope;

 

Be humble in our giving,

Humble in receiving,

Take pride in our gratitude,

Take pride in each kindness,

Take pride in every act of respect,

Take pride in acknowledging

That we are all children of the same family,

Sharing the playground together.

 

A Humble, Silent Prayer, and a Sincere Smile -

The most powerful forms of communication

When we drop to our knees
And let it all go,
Open our hearts
And let the tears flow,
Deep in our souls,
Someone listens and knows;
 
Prayer is like a rescue ship,
A boat that's waiting, moored;
When fears are overwhelming,
 When those I love are threatened,
 In quiet desperation,
I take a step aboard;
 
My Companion bids me welcome
As He reaches out His hand;
He tells me He has heard my plea,
And that He understands;
There are miracles in progress,
Things we cannot know,
But when we call out from our hearts,
There's no way that He'd say, 'no';
 
When we make the choice to push off
From our comfortable, safe shore,
When we risk being surrounded
By fears we can't ignore,
By dark waters of rejection,
Of doubts that make us question,
He reminds us that we're gifted
With a life preserving smile;
 
That when tossed with firm resolve,
To lift another from despair,
Becomes the echo of His answer,
The hope that follows prayer;
For the giver and receiver,
Both are pulled into His craft,
To rest until the waters calm,
Until the storm is past;
 
No smile left behind.

 

 

An Ode To The Whittler

How much wood would a whittler whittle if a whittler could whittle wood?

And why does the whittler whittle even when no one tells him he should?

 

Every creation is a part of God's plan, commissioned by Him; He loves our mistakes as much as our successes, for they show Him that we have answered His call - that we have stepped forward, that we are trying. The Master Whittler has faith in us and is always hopefully waiting  to answer any requests we have for assistance in how to use the tools he has given us.  One of man's basic needs is the need to share - No matter our colour, race, creed, or orientation, we all share a common desire to draw the very best out of whatever creative medium calls to us and to share our efforts. 

God  holds us closely, turns us in His hands, loves us in spite of and because of our flaws, and smiles in wonder at His creation.

 

He took the block of wood in hand,

And sensed its inner seed;

Within the grain, a spirit,

Beckoning to be freed;

 

He closed his eyes and held it still,

And still did the Whittler wait,

For the voice that lay beneath the skin

Of  this wood inanimate;

 

He felt its roughness, and its warmth,

As he slowly made a start;

With hopeful eyes,

He whittled, 'till he

Gently formed its heart;

 

His gaze fell on an error

As he held it to the light,

A mistake, or a suggestion

To re-direct his sight?

 

He bent his frame into the work

As he held it reverently,

Lost track of worry, time, and place,

And let his mind go free;

 

Smoothed at last, and polished,

He turned it in his hand,

Smiled in grateful wonder,

And swept away the sand;

 

The Master watches, and He guides

The hands of everyone,

And we cannot know the outcome,

Until the Whittler's done.

 

Lord, I am not perfect,

But I know that you are not finished with me yet;

When you are, I will be exactly what and where I am supposed to be.

When we are unable to share our actual hugs with loved ones, then we can send out the essence of our hugs - the warmth that we wish to impart, spiritually.  At the same time, let us be still and feel the love of our heavenly Father as he surrounds us with his healing hugs in the encounters we have with our fellow man and with nature, in petals and on wings.

Petals And Wings

Hugs are extensions,

That warm and impart

An oasis of calm

As they cradle the hearts

Of the family and friends

That they hold in their arms;

They welcome, impart love,

And hold safe from harm;

"If you give me a hug,

The little bird said,

As she looked at the flower

Up over her head;

I'll give you my song

To hold in your heart,

To keep and repeat

While we travel apart."

"My friend, I do wish

That my leaves could hug tight,

I'd hold you so close,

But try as I might,

I can only send love

From my petals of blue,

 I hope that you feel it,

This hug is for you."

When our arms are not able

To reach or to hold,

When distance or circumstance

Stops our hugs cold,

Then, the arms of our spirits

 Can turn into springs,

That carry hugs freely,

On petals and wings.

And God's hug surrounds us

On petals and wings.

You can't think of St. Patrick's Day without thinking of wonderful Irish music!   I want to pay tribute and thank all of the musicians, singers, and song-writers who have left us such a wonderful legacy of song and dance, and to all of those still writing and keeping those musical spirits alive and laughing for us.

Some of my favourite musical memories were the many times over the years we were entertained by  Mervin Kelly and his friends in the Celts group, and by my Uncle Jimmy and my father who would entertain us at family events, at the Metcalfe Farmers' Market,  and would occasionally sit in with Mervin's group.  For all of you musical Irish spirits out there:

Paddy Smiled

Old Paddy made a sorry sight,

His clothes had had their day,

But, he brought the fiddle to his chin,

And Oh, could Paddy play!

The bow, it jumped and danced along,

The notes freed from their staff,

And as others clapped and sang along,

Oh, did Paddy laugh!

His laughter took him back again,

To life in County Clare,

To friends around the table,

To family over there;

He turned those memories into song,

A tear plucked every string,

Then, all went quiet in that room,

For oh, could Paddy sing!

Then up he hopped

From where he sat,

And stepped out toe and heel,

Folks jumped up to join right in,         

As Paddy played a reel;

The room was filled with gaiety,

Hearts lifted for awhile,

Strangers now became his friends,

And oh, did Paddy smile!

Every sharing touches a life,

A hard times smile shines the furthest!

I've been robbed!  - Yes!

At this time of year, with Thanksgiving still in the air, I've been off on a nostalgia trip -  looking at pictures of my children, grandchildren, family and old friends, and It suddenly dawned on me that they have been robbing my heart, bit by bit.  Actually, they have been offering me fair trade:  tiny pieces of each of their hearts have become indelibly etched into my own, and they are not here for the short-term, but will be staying forever.

We are part of a much larger picture that goes back generations; the little child, that is still in me, remains a part of my parents, siblings, children's and friends' lives forever, and the reverse is also true;

That thought challenges me to fulfill my potential as far as I can - If I'm giving away pieces of my heart, I want to make sure that they are well-polished, and the best that I can offer.

-  so many pieces of so many hearts - how lucky are we!

What  wonder just touched me,

From where did it start,

This déjà vu feeling

That's stirring my heart;

It crept up within me,

It knocked on my door,

And I bid it to enter,

As I'd done times before;

A memory intense,

Danced forth like a child,

Pushed passed the worries,

Then surfaced and smiled;

It played in my mind,

Then too soon it was gone,

A poem unfinished,

A nostalgic sweet song,

But another was waiting,

To visit or stay,

To lift up my heart,

To brighten my day;

From deep in my core,

He reassured me,

"I've got this,

No worries,

 Just leave it with me."

Stepping Into Peace

It's December, and the Christmas rush is upon us; There are wonderful celebrations to plan and attend, a tree to put up and decorate, a house to clean and decorate, and cookies to bake and decorate!  Sometimes it is hard to find the peace that is supposed to be the main focus of the season.  When I find myself starting to go under in the waves of too much stress, I try to remember to take a step back and find the quiet.

To let go of stress and step into peace is like stepping into a sturdy canoe in the wee hours of the morning and letting yourself  follow the shoreline of a river; not in any rush to reach a destination, but just enjoying the quiet conversation of your surroundings, and being grateful to the river for allowing you to ride along in its sparkling currents.

For a brief time, you and your thoughts are taking an intimate journey together, leaving all of your baggage, including your shoes, behind on the shore.

Finding My Smile

The gentle movements of a Tai Chi session this morning had me

Watching the flow of my hands,

And once again, I felt there the wooden caress of a paddle;

I was stepping into my mental canoe,

Slipping away on daydreams

Of early morning escapes

Beside a gentle river bank,

Feeling the solitude as I float downstream across flat water,

Free of man-made sounds in their various forms;

I close my eyes,

Enjoying the rocking of the canoe,

trusting the gentle movement of the river

 to carry me along wherever it is going;

I feel again the water washing around my toes as I invite some of it aboard with every stroke of my paddle;

My memory took a deep breath and there it was: the wonderful atmosphere;

Smells of algae, fish, flowers,

And the sounds of nature; frogs, birds, and various forms of flying tag-a-longs who found it amusing to play tag on my hat and hide-and-seek around my ankles - taking the occasional nibble;

I grabbed hold of that spiritual oar of freedom,

Gave it a mental pull,

-  And I smiled.

My hands, now resting,

Palms up,  in peace.

Whether your 'peace escape' is in a mental canoe, a quiet chapel, or laying in the arms of a frosty but all-accepting snow angel, may you find your own way to step into peace, find your smile, and leave your heavy baggage behind on the shore.

Wishing you all peace this Christmas and far beyond.

Passing The Torch

This Remembrance Day is especially poignant, as it celebrates the 100th Anniversary of the 1st World War.  In reflecting on the sacrifices made for the freedoms that we enjoy, I am reminded that the hands of those brave men still reach out today, passing the torch to all of us, to hold  high and spread its light:

Passing The Torch

When day falls down

With setting sun,

Look back, look back,

What have we done?

The torch was passed

To you and I;

"Don't falter now!"

We hear their cry,

"Be not afraid,

Stand straight and tall,

And do not heed

The  tempter's  call

To turn your back,

To walk away,

Or put off for

Another day,

The work that waits,

That pulls your heart,

And hopes that you

Will do your part";

To each of us

A bit of light

Is  given as a seed,

It glows and grows

With every gift

We give to one in need;                 "

The torch is ours

To hold on high,

Let's  spread its light

Across the sky!

Someone once said, "It's the start that stops most of us."    That has certainly been the case for me lately; I find that my great intentions at the start of each day end up somewhere between full-stop and the back of the distraction line.   Focus Edie focus!  For all of you trying to share your own artistic or writing gifts with others, I encourage you to just start with one word, one line, one doodle at a time.   In my case, I worked out my frustrations by writing a literary doodle, a little poem that you can probably relate to:

A Literary Lull

Hello page -

It's me again,

I've had another coffee;

But all it did was make me shake,

No inspiration in its wake,

No powerful ripples for me;

So, I'm back

To think and sigh,

Heavy head and heavy heart,

Filled with words that won't leave home,

Hanging on, afraid to roam,

Lest faults they might impart;

For words have power

To hurt or heal,

And that is no small matter,

And so, in matters literary,

Some re-write is necessary,

But first -  I need to start!

Step 1 - Eat The Frog!

Step 1 - Eat the frog!

 I have a beautiful little Friendship Book, given to me when we first moved to Prescott by a lovely neighbour who took one of those meaningful first steps; Elizabeth and her husband, Michael came over to welcome us to the neighbourhood.  Little did she realize that reading one excerpt from that little book each day has become part of my morning ritual - It gives me a boost from sleep to smile.  I especially love its one reference to an old piece of folk wisdom that states, "If the first thing you do each day is eat a frog, then nothing worse will happen for the rest of the day."  How many of the things that we fear are as scary as that?

We will never know how far our unique ripples will flow until we take that first step into the stream each day, and carry our own personal frog to higher ground.

One Tiny Step

The first tiny step

Is the one that will lead,

That will start your whole process of growing;

It's the one to encourage,

As it breaks from its bonds

And carries us into unknowing;

Though the road be unclear,

The tools not too near,

They will come to your hand

By and by,

If you say to that step,

"I give you permission

To drive my life forward, to try";

For each tiny step

Has the power to move,

To make ripples of hope

In life's stream;

You may fall off the track,

But, at least looking back,

You'll be further ahead

Than you've been!

The Dream Train

'I was trying to daydream, but my mind kept wandering.'   - Steven Wright

A recent issue of 'Discovery' magazine had an interesting article in it about the overlooked importance of daydreaming - who knew?  Apparently, it is when our minds are given the freedom to explore and  travel to wherever the moment takes it, that revelations occur; when a completely unrelated dream can lead us to look at a problem in a whole new way.  For all of you fellow daydream travellers out there - all aboard!

            The Dream Train

There's a train that comes by often,

A muse who calls to me,

"Come hop aboard, forget your work,

Let's see what we can see!"

"No ticket will be needed,

No carry-on", says she;

”Only thoughts will be collected,

And dreams can travel free."

It picks  me up at random,

While my mind is caught off guard,

Floating on a piece of  music,

Or wandering  through the yard.

It leaves at no particular time

And often takes detours,

There's food for thought in the dining car,

Where imagination stirs;

Travelling in my private car,

Alone, I ride along,

Oblivious to the outside world,

Lost in my own song,

         

So quiet is the engine,

You can miss time passing through,

Till you wake -  the ride is over,

And a dream steps off with you!

Happy New Year!

For myself, this year is starting off like every other 'New Year' - I am filled with longing for the world to somehow cast off its destructive attitudes and give us all the gift of hope;  for world leaders to  look to the welfare of its neediest citizens.   As I listen to news reports, that doesn't seem very likely;  Big media tends to focus most of its energy in highlighting all of the worst that mankind is capable of.   Small town media, on the other hand, brings us that hope in the form of uplifting stories that it prints of caring people who make a positive difference,  and of events that lift us all as individuals and members of a community.   Let's all aspire to love and to hope:

The Loom

The peddlers of woe

Are bending their bows,

Filling their quivers with fears;

The weavers of doom

Are  warping their looms

With  the delicate threads of our tears;

They add warp and weft

With fingers so deft,

Creating their coats of despair,

While we shiver and wait

In our uncertain state

For a glimmer of hope to appear.

Those peddlers know well

That fear and woe sells,

Though it takes a sad toll on the soul;

What a price we all pay

When  greed leads the way,

But there could be an alternate goal;

Let us pick up our shields

Where they lie in the fields

Of our dreams and our hopes for tomorrow,

And fend off the foe,

Tell those merchants of woe

That we don't want their weapons of sorrow.

What a beautiful garment

We all could create,

One incredibly vast in its scope;

Strong and divine,

To enfold all mankind,

On a loom strung with love, filled with hope.

   Love is our shield

And hope is our loom

Gentleness - Don't You Just Love It!

Gentleness - Don't you just love it?

Children are the most honest critics, aren't they?  They are able to sense the true character of those they interact with; They are attracted to playfulness and gentleness, especially when they find those qualities in surprising people or creatures, like a great big friendly giant or a fierce monster who just needs someone to pull a thorn out of its paw!

Throughout my life, I have been blessed to have so many family members, teachers  and friends who exemplify those positive qualities, despite the thorns that have caused them pain.

 Their presence  surrounds others with comfort and encouragement as we all struggle to share our gifts with the world.  They are the ones that we miss the most when they are no longer with us, those  faces graced by warm gentle smiles and mischievous twinkling eyes.

 Fear and disappointment will always be there, knocking  at our door, wanting to take over our agendas and drown our inspirations, placing the blame squarely on others.   It is up to us to choose how we answer those knocks; whether we open up to let  intolerance in with its negative view of others and of ourselves, or do we take a breath and wait  a few extra minutes for the chime of  gentleness to ring.  

  I hope that gentleness and good humour will win out in the battle for my attitude and that I will be courageous enough to pull out as many thorns as I can.   Tweezers up!

Apologies to Dylan Thomas:

Let me go gently

As I walk through this life,

Adding no harshness,

Bringing no strife;

When fear walks in boldly,

Disguised as my friend,

Carrying  anger

As it tries to pretend

That it came to protect me,

That I need to strike out,

Then, let me strike fear instead,

Turn it about,

And catch it off guard

With a warm, gentle smile,

Replacing its gloom

With the hope of a child.

No Ordinary Thing!

No Ordinary Thing!

No matter how many times I watch a child jumping in a puddle, skipping rope, playing hide -and-seek, or swinging, I am amazed at how beautiful these ordinary actions are, and how powerful their ripple effects can be;  I automatically stop and smile when I witness their play; a positive ripple, created out of thin air, with the power to change my mood.

  Children love to give gifts - pictures they have drawn, an original dance routine, notes and stories that they have written and ones that their voices create, in the form of songs or jokes.  They have an inner desire to share their gifts.  Over time, that desire becomes either stronger or weaker depending on their sense of freedom to share.  They notice our actions as much as our words, so Let us set an example for them; grab hold of our own inner child and jump into life's puddle with enthusiasm and courage as we share our own gifts:

It was something ordinary,

But a treasure that I'll save;

It clothed the extraordinary,

Music turned into a story;

A child's sweet gift she gave;

She sang a song about a dream;

No sooner did she start,

Than the simple little melody,

Very unexpectedly,

Reached right into my heart;

I was, once again, that little child,

Swinging in a  tree,

Seeing colours in its bark,

Then, piling leaves up in the park,   

And it delighted me!

She looked at me with hopeful eyes

As she laughed the final note;

No other would be quite like this,

Signed and given with a kiss;

A lump formed in my throat;

It was something unexpected,

On an ordinary day,

But, to touch a heart  and make it sing

Is no simple ordinary thing -

It's a miracle at play!

Who Am I – In Twenty Minutes?!

I’d love to introduce myself, but I don’t know who I am – yet!   It’s life’s great mystery, isn’t it?    Every moment that I’m alive changes me – so, I guess I’m a work in progress.  If you ask me who I am twenty minutes from now, I will have grown and fulfilled twenty more minutes of my life by finishing this ‘rant’, and it will have changed my mind set – I will not be the same person.  I will be twenty minutes older; the world will be twenty minutes older, and whatever I have invested in that time will remain with this world. 

With every breath we take, we have the potential for meaningful thought – that is a wonderful gift; our symphony, to direct in whatever way we choose.  Sometimes a beautiful piece of music takes me on a trip to inspiration land, and voila! – my thoughts have been lifted to new levels.

 Every one of us is our own student, teacher, our own scholar; Our subject matter can be as simple as noticing, observing, and learning from the actions of a house fly or a spider, a petal opening on a blossom; or as complex as picking up a book of philosophy and letting our minds absorb whatever rings true to us in that media.  Graduation day is actually broken down into graduation minutes. None of us knows how many ‘twenty minutes’ we will have left to grow and change and become; I’d like to introduce myself – just wait twenty minutes!

I'm a wondrous work in progress,

A conundrum to be sure;

When I wake up every morning,

When my thoughts are still a blur,

Before I even raise my head,

And start to take thoughts in,

Life turns a brand new page for me,

A chance to write a melody,

Then offers me the pen;

The words I write

Might help or heal,

Might change a life,

But then,

I'm still a work in progress,

I won't know till I begin.

As Green As It Gets!

"That's as green as it's going to get!"   An exasperated cry from our Grandson made us laugh at the time - a good wake-me-up that jolted us out of the serious impatience that we felt one day while sitting behind a slow mover at the starting line of a downtown traffic light.  Why do we insist on treating life as a race, having to get to our goals at the expense of the beauty that passes us by along the way?

  'The goal is the journey'  is an expression that one of our dear friends  used to use at the conclusion of her e-mails;  It always made me stop and re-think the goals that I had planned for that particular day - to give my to-do list a thorough review, to make sure that I was going to be living the day rather than just getting through it.   That difference meant that I made sure to leave some precious time for a creative process of some sort - something that would add a smile, a drop of encouragement, some beauty to the world.  I didn't forget the value of a love-filled baking session as one of those processes either;  It seemed like the perfect work of art on days when sunshine and smiles were at a premium.

  Heading into another week sprinkled with lots of raindrops, and with the grass and garden waiting patiently,  I decided to entice some poetic sunshine to come forth - That's as green as it's going to get today!

After The Rain

After the rain,

There will be light,

And a breeze to lift

The robin's flight;

After the rain,

The sun will shout

 With welcome warmth,

"Come out!  Come out!"

"Shake out your smile,

Add yours to mine,

Let's have some fun -

It's gardening time!"

Spreading Laughter!

World  laughter day is coming up soon - this Sunday  May 7th, and boy, couldn't we all use some laughter!

 The first celebration was on January 10, 1998, in Mumbai, India, and was arranged by Dr. Madan Kataria, founder of the worldwide laughter yoga movement.   

Laughter Yoga says: Laughter is a positive and powerful emotion that has all the ingredients required for individuals to change themselves and to change the world in a peaceful and positive way.  The day is now celebrated worldwide.

When life becomes just too heavy for us to bear, it's time to bring in the carrier cousins  to help lift our load:

Singing is a first cousin to laughter.  To prove that point, here's a little ditty that the Thousand Islanders Chorus  shared with our Walker House singing workshop group;  Apart from being a good singing exercise,  it acts as a laughter booster:

            'laughter is contagious

            and it's advantageous,

            Ho! ho! ho! ho!

            Ho! ho! ho! ho!

            Ho! ho! ho! ho!

            Ho! ho! ho! ho!

            Ho!

After a repetition or two, I could never get to the last 'ho!'  without laughing - totally infected, I was!

I have long known that music and singing  are carriers - They can spread laughter, joy, inspiration, and  tears; They are right up there with all of the most powerful and positive infections - their germs spread rapidly, even to our feet, causing them to dance - hopefully at appropriate moments.  Wherever their infection  spreads, life takes on brighter colours - how good is that!

Whether those two cousins nudge us to tears or laughter, our bodies and spirits reap positive benefits. 

You go carriers - Please do make me laugh!

The colour of sunshine!

 This was the title of one of the pieces of music that I was listening to as I did my Tai Chi routine this morning.  I find the slow meditative pace of this exercise to be a time of deep and creative thought, and of heartfelt prayer.

Though I can't see the colour of sunshine, or the substance of prayer, I know that both are powerful communicators, and can lift our hearts and spirits.  As the sun draws warm colours from everything it touches, and gives back life-giving food to mankind and the earth, I believe that prayer, though invisible to the human eye, is viewed as a beautiful, powerful rainbow of hope by the soul which, as it is lifted, shares its own amazing colours, adding to the brightness and warmth in the world.

The colour of sunshine

Depends on its diet,

If it drinks from the ocean,

Or a lake laying quiet,

Then it puts on bright blue,

With a sparkle of green,

And its hair sometimes gleams

With a hint of marine.

While crossing a meadow,

It bounces off flowers,

It feeds on red clover,

And sends back rose showers;

It picks up blue tips

From the bluegrass, I'm told,

And to compliment dandelions

Dons its bright gold.

The colour of prayer

Depends on its diet,

If it drinks caring thoughts

From a soul that is quiet,

Then it puts on bright blue

As it soars high above,

And returns, dressed in gold,

As it echoes God's love.

The Colour Of Sunshine

The colour of sunshine!

 This was the title of one of the pieces of music that I was listening to as I did my Tai Chi routine this morning.  I find the slow meditative pace of this exercise to be a time of deep and creative thought, and of heartfelt prayer.

Though I can't see the colour of sunshine, or the substance of prayer, I know that both have the power to lift my heart and spirit.  As the sun draws warm colours from everything it touches, and gives back life-giving food to mankind and the earth, I believe that prayer, though invisible to the human eye, is viewed as a beautiful, powerful rainbow of hope by the soul which, as it is lifted, shares its own amazing colours, adding to the brightness and warmth in the world.

The colour of sunshine

Depends on its diet;

If it drinks from the ocean,

Or a lake laying quiet,

Then it puts on bright blue,

With a sparkle of green,

And its hair sometimes gleams

With a hint of marine.

While crossing a meadow,

It bounces off flowers,

It feeds on red clover,

And sends back rose showers;

It picks up blue tips

From the bluegrass, I'm told,

And to compliment dandelions

Dons its bright gold.

The colour of prayer

Depends on its diet;

If it drinks caring thoughts

From a soul that is quiet,

Then it puts on bright blue

As it soars high above,

And returns, dressed in gold,

As it echoes God's love.

Much Ado About My To Do List

Much Ado About My To Do List

It seems the 'Bard' and Dickens were up to no good last night - they put their heads together and decided that 3 am was the perfect time for a creative session.  No need to inform Edie about the time change, "she loves laying awake at that hour anyway, and it will give her a different program to tune into other than Worriers Anonymous!" -  annoying pair, but they were right:

These two spirits took me on a journey back in time, somewhat like Scrooge's Christmas Eve experience, to a small house on the banks of the Rideau River.  The program that I tuned into was a series of vignettes that featured a poor family of 7 children and two young parents and the intangibles that fed the imagination and ignited the wonder in this little child's heart:   the smell of my mother's delicious 'meals for the masses', her tears as we tickled her into laughter, or as she hugged our hurts away; the dancing eyes of my father as he shared one of his jokes, and quipped Jimmy Durante's "I've got a million of 'em!"  There, vying for room on the well-worn couch, sat an eager group of children passing from lap to lap, members of the newest litter of kittens and afterwards, not so eagerly, passing the buck about who's turn it was to change the newspaper in their box!  Another scene unfolded of the family gathered in the living room, sharing in total silliness; in jokes and games and in the exuberant singing of familiar songs with Dad on guitar and mouth organ, the leader of our band.

  I was completely wrapped up in childhood when the Bard interrupted my reverie by proffering  this line from his 'Julius Caesar':  'The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.'  Ok - that was negative, or maybe it was meant as an optimistic warning, a reminder to act now rather than judge now;  the power of the good memories we make each day, may be all that is needed to prevent one of our loved ones, or a stranger that our words or actions have touched, from going down those 'evil' paths.

So, as this New Year unfolds, my 'to do' list will be topped by:  'Judge less and make more good memories'.  May they live long after I'm gone and hopefully my loved ones will be able to repeat Dad's line, "I've got a million of 'em!"