In The Arms Of Christmas

 

 

I subtitled this post 'Lest We Forget' in recognition of the veterans of life that are not honoured as they should be.  They sit and lay in nursing homes, looked after by a staff of caring workers and nurses who are run off their feet - who barely have time to do the essential things that need to be done to keep their bodies from breaking down.  It is very frightening and degrading to be put into diapers again, to have to be lifted like a baby again, to be lost.  There is no time or resources to spend on that most precious commodity - self-respect and human dignity.   As the season of light, love and giving arrives, let us not forget to be advocates for these members of society who have lain down their lives over the years for their families, communities, churches, and their country, and are now in need of our remembrance and appreciation.

 

 

In The Arms Of Christmas

Lest We Forget

If wishing could walk,

And hoping could talk,

If faith could reach out

And wash away fear,

If my eyes could just speak

Through this body so weak

And let the world know

That I’m still living here.

If my heart could take wing

And my memory could sing

And my ears hear again

Those melodies clear,

I would rise from this chair

And dance on the air

And rejoice

In the arms of Christmas.

Hope For A Precious Child

A child falls down and sustains a serious injury.  While he is sitting on the floor, crying and unable to get up, his father comes along and sees the situation.  The child puts out his arms, expecting his father to rescue him immediately.  Wait, why isn’t he helping him up?  Although he is filled with compassion, his dad is saying that he has been advised not to move him until there is a consultation between family members – a decision has to be made about where the best course of treatment will come from, and who will pay for his treatment.  They don’t want to make his situation worse, even though it is clear to see that the pain he is suffering needs to be addressed immediately.  While the father’s hands are tied, infection begins to set in.   Now, the answers to the child’s dilemma have become more complicated, requiring more care, time and money to fix.  The trust that the child had in his father and the rest of the family has been seriously diminished.  He starts crying out in desperation for someone to help – but everyone is at the meeting – arguing with each other about the best course of treatment.

Let us hope that President Obama receives support from both sides of the House this term; that he will be able to lift that precious child and give him the help he needs while there is still time. 

Sign, Sign, Everywhere Sign!

Sign, Sign, Everywhere Sign!

John Lennon’s beautifully ‘signed’ and sung anthem, “Imagine” sent warm ripples throughout the hearts of everyone watching the closing ceremonies of the 2012 Olympic Games in London – ripples of hope for inclusion – of all peoples, in a brotherhood of love.

I flashed back to another performance, this past Spring:

We sat in the audience, at our granddaughter’s school concert, as a group of over twenty, seven-year-old children, signed the Our Father, while Michael W. Smith’s haunting version played in the background.  Looking around the gym, faces were in rapt attention, caught up in the emotions that it brought to the surface in all of us watching.  It was not merely a performance - The children up on the stage were putting such sincere energy and attention into what their hands and bodies were expressing – bringing the words to life in such a special way.  It’s wonderful when life throws a surprise at you when you least expect it – and very humbling.  Another surprise came at the end of the concert with the small choir giving an amazingly simple and beautiful version of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”.   It reinforced for me, the importance of arts programs in the schools.  Those lessons learned – of gaining confidence, and then sharing what is within – feeling those seeds of talent take root and start blossoming, are irreplaceable. 

If we want peace to become a reality, then we need to feed the souls of our children with hope - all of the other riches in this world count for nothing without it; and if we want our children to learn respect for themselves and for others, then we need to encourage them, honestly, and by our examples, to have faith in their abilities, their worth; and we need to nurture the desire to share, not just materially, but of themselves. 

.   I think I’ll check out the actual sign language for the word hope, and practice using it daily – even if it’s only a greeting to myself in the mirror – it would be a neat way to clear those early morning cobwebs and focus on the positive.  Let there be singing and signing – not just at concerts, and not just by children, but, by everyone, everywhere!

- I wonder what the sign for ‘rant’ is?

Housework Or Heartwork

Housework or Heartwork!

The sun was shining and the sky was beautiful this morning; those torrid plus 30 deg. temperatures have backed off, and there is a gentle breeze blowing; in other words, it’s perfect weather for enjoying the outdoors. Why am I inside, spinning around like a busy bee, cleaning up the hive, instead of getting out there and visiting those blossoms?!  

Good point!  As I was trying to make up my mind, inspiration tapped me on the shoulder, and reminded me that all of the housecleaning I could possibly do, would not be worth the effort that I put into sending an encouraging note to someone who might need a smile to brighten their day.  No one will remember us for the spotless houses that we kept, but hopefully, they will remember our thoughtfulness in times of need.  On its way out the door, inspiration suddenly had a change of heart and reminded me to check the load in the dryer!  Here’s the poem I wrote to get back at it:

The Day The Bunnies Talked!

I could have done the dishes,

I should have scrubbed the floor,

The laundry basket beckoned,

And the vacuum gave a roar!

    But high above the cupboard doors,

    Dust bunnies called, “Don’t bother us,

    Our furry coats are glorious!”

    Dead soldiers stood victorious,

    Why disturb their chor-ius?

I gently closed the door!

Wheee! I'm Riding!

Wheeee! I’m Riding!

I wish that was what I was yelling, as I stepped onto the pedals of my brand new, fix-all-my-problems-with-riding bike, for my second lesson.  As we headed off – walking our bikes to a parking lot and unused road at the edge of town, I felt like a little kid again – only not the excited one who could hardly wait to try it out – but the insecure little girl who was afraid of falling off and embarrassing herself, once more.  You’d think that I would have developed a bit of confidence and courage in my 60+ years!  I have to give my hubby huge kudos for his patience and his determination to get me ‘back in the saddle’.

He countered all of my scaredy-cat banter about not having the same balance any more; being a lot heavier than the last time I was on a bike (30 years ago!), with that great reverse psychology line:  “Ok, so you don’t have to ride if you don’t want to  - we’ll take the bike back!”  DARN!  I DO want to ride; so I started to pay attention to the way I was riding, and what the problem was with my attempts to turn the bike around.  For one thing, I had both of the handlebars in a stranglehold!  When I loosened up a bit, and did as my coach said, and leaned into the turns a bit – lo and behold – progress!   By the time the hour’s practice was up, I was actually able to ride the bike home!  Remind me to send a card to that lovely cyclist that I cut off – She seemed to be sincerely sympathetic, what with the heartfelt greeting that she yelled at me, and all!    Wheeee!

The Strongest Man In The World!

The Strongest Man In The World!

My father weighed a whopping 140 lbs., soaking wet; but to the day he died, he still held the world title for tongue holding!   I remember how my six siblings and I caused him frustration many times, but he could always pull out that terrible awful threat:  “If I come over there – I won’t be over here!”  That was the one that he would use to deflate a ‘tattler’.   What could you say after that?   He had an uncanny knack for giving the other person the benefit of the doubt, for trying to imagine the fit of the other person’s shoes before kicking them.  And we kids were paying attention.  We should never underestimate the amount of absorption that a child is capable of.  Be aware of the little eyes that are looking up at us, and taking in our every word and gesture.  There were times when dad’s philosophy stretched a little too generously, however - times when mom would roll her eyes as dad would start finding excuses for bosses who took advantage of his patience and his tender heart.  We all have, within us, those qualities of tenderness, patience, desire to excel, and the longing for and treasuring of love and acceptance.  Keeping these qualities in proper perspective, is another test of strength.  Being the nice guy is great when it comes from a sincere heart; however we also need to retain an honest appreciation of our own worth; or we are only wearing a nice-looking mask.  If that mask comes with a price tag that costs you your integrity, then everyone will be poorer for it, including the person that you are trying to be nice to, and those little ones, watching, and learning about life. It takes courage to play the ‘tough guy’ and to respectfully tell someone that their behavior is unacceptable or harmful to themselves or to others.  That courage starts calling to us at a very young age, when the decision is there: Should I join that cool ‘put down’ group in the school yard, or choose as friends, the ones who have enough confidence to be really cool – the nice guys – on their way to becoming the truly strong people in this world!

Time Travel

Time Travel!

This journey called life is a wondrous trip, to be traveled in such a small amount of time – no unlimited air miles!  If we could see time, what might it actually resemble?  Maybe a train, constructed from air and memories (light rail?). We take a baby leap, and hop on board.  At each stop, passengers get on, and some disembark.  In some of the cars, the ride seems to go so fast; in others, the journey seems long, and the end seems very far away.  As our destination gets closer, the train speeds up.  You motion to the conductor to slow down - you realize that the train has become precious - your home, and you are so attached to it; you want the trip to last longer; you want more chances to appreciate aspects of the people and the scenery within the cars – there are still some people and places you haven’t gotten to.  The seat belt, that someone has now insisted that you wear, becomes restricting - you want to get up and walk through the train cars, say hi to people, that you can see in the distance.  At the end of the journey, another train comes along – one with cars that are brighter, without seatbelts; without restrictions; and run on totally renewable energy!  Where that train ends up, nobody really knows, but, once again, we make the leap, and we find our memories already on board, and others waiting to be experienced, filling up new cars, in ways we can’t yet fully understand.  

Perhaps we’d like to get off for awhile - just walk slowly, and look around; Time might then offer a resting place, where we can feel the grass under our bare feet, smell apple blossoms and lilacs on the air, hear the sounds of birds, rippling water, and the beautiful voices of those we love all around us. 

Time can also be a wonderful diversion when left in my typing hands!

The train goes forward,

And the train goes back,

And picks up memories

Along the track.

It adds a car

At every stop,

And picks up speed,

While you yell, ‘Stop!’