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.

 

 

Christmas In Your Neighbourhood - Christmas Ripples

 

As your eyes rest on the Babe in the manger,

            Turn, and see:

Another baby - sleeping in a stroller;

            A young mother struggling to push the stroller,

A young student, walking beside the mother;

            A gentleman offering a greeting to the mother

And a smile to the baby,

            And to the student, who is now pushing the stroller;

See the elderly lady in the nursing home

            Welcoming the young mother and student,

Who stops the stroller and gently holds the baby up

            To be greeted and touched;

The friends of the elderly lady,

            Now coming over to join in on the scene

With their smiles and warm greetings;

            The caregiver at the home,

Building on those greetings with her own cheerful laugh,

            And offering a chair to the mother, who now rests her handicapped leg;

The homeless man, watching the scene unfold through the window;

            The young social worker handing him a hot cup of cocoa,

Topped with a genuine smile;

            Down the street, a small boy

Gingerly putting a favourite toy into a collection basket

            While his father nods his approval,

His own steps now brighter;

            And now,

Turn your gaze back,

            In reverent awe,

To the Babe in the manger,

            Who is smiling at the gift,

The awakened wonder

            He has shared with you

This Christmas season.

 

Who’s my brother?

Who’s my sister?

Who’s my neighbour, pal and friend?

You’re my brother, sister, pal,

And we’re all neighbours in the end!  

 

"No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.”

             - Charles Dickens              

 

 Merry Christmas and God bless us everyone!

 

My Mother's Coat

As I brought it out, and offered it
To one I did not know,
I felt Mom's essence all around
 As she wisely let me know:
This lovely coat was given me
At a time when I was low,
Now someone else is waiting,
It's time to let it go;
My love that lived within its arms
Was bequeathed to you bit by bit,
Through good and bad, as years went by,
It never lost its fit;
 
I tried to find some hope each day
To add to my coat's lining,
To save within its pockets,
And keep its spirit shining;
Now someone else is shivering,
From the cold, or lack of love,
Loneliness can be very harsh
Despite the warmest glove;
 
There is no need to feel a loss,
Its journey must go on;
The gratitude I felt back then
When Winter winds blew strong,
I pass to you, and use your hands
To share some kindness still;
Some mother will be grateful
For a shelter from the chill;
A coat is only useful
When it's giving warmth away,
So don't regret this letting go,
My love is here to stay.
 
                Thank you Mom

 

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.

 

 

                Hopefulness

Let me walk today in hopefulness,

And open my gifts with glee,

Let hearty laughter

Tickle my toes,

And wash off the hurt     

Of yesterday's woes.

Setting my spirit free;

 

Let me paint a picture of playfulness,

A visual song of joy;

Let my soul create

A work so bright,

From a hopeful palette

Filled with light,

That fear cannot destroy;

 

Let me greet each day with gratefulness,

For it offers a brand new start;

With my ears attuned

To the wonder of sound,

A smile on my lips

To prepare the ground,

For the words of a hopeful heart;

 

Like the little birds playing o'er fields of grain,

Falling, then touching, and rising again,

Let us offer glad thanks

For the golden expanse,

That beckons us all

To create our own dance,

Not sit on the sidelines of hopefulness.

 

 

 

    A Song Of Hope

 

Whenever sadness settles in,

nettles in,

meddles in,

The song that I am coaxing

From the recess of my heart,

I give my smile a hefty spin,

A swing, a lift, and then, a grin

Breaks out and like a little bird

Soars into the sunlight, to where its song will start;

 

It tells me there is light out there,

Joy out there,   

Hope out there,

Out past the melancholy -

The lazy spirit's haunt,

I'll free my feet and drop those shoes,

The past is past, the future new,

I still have things to say and do;

Life is so much more;

 

Every moment's promise is

A chance for us,

To build and thus,

To add to God's creation,

The gifts we have to share;

Let our words express our very best,

Thoughtful works of art;

An instrument as yet unstrung,

A song of hope as yet unsung,

Waits to add its colour

To the canvass of the heart.