“It is character that should be the sole measure of judgement in the society of thinking humanity, and nothing short of that would do.” ― Abhijit Naskar, We Are All Black: A Treatise on Racism CONTRAST The news broadcasts the story in an infinite loop. Nine people killed, one an unborn baby. Boy or girl, identity as unknown as the reason for the bullets that stopped them. I listen to commentary about hate and racism while a winter-pale goldfinch travels from tree to wire, a place where robins perch. The wire is long with plenty of room. Perhaps, there is no genuine connection. Only a brief metaphor. And yet I wonder if change can begin with subtle movements toward peace. bird illustration made from public domain photo, colored pencil, and chalk
Archive for December, 2022
Contrast, a Poem
Posted in inspiration, tagged Abhijit Naskar quote, choice, hate, inspiration, peace, poem, small beginnings, violence, We Are All Black: A Treatise on Racism on December 30, 2022| 1 Comment »
Revisited: I, a Poem
Posted in inspiration, tagged encouragement, experience, gratitude, holiday season, human frailty, Mother Teresa quote, perfection, perspective, positive attitudes on December 20, 2022| 4 Comments »
“It’s not how much we give but how much love we put into giving.”
― Mother Teresa
The holidays magnify expectations. Suddenly, I think I need to fall into perfect alignment with the world. A perfect world. However, perfection doesn’t exist anywhere except in the dictionary. Pause. Breathe. Ask for help. Or give it. Christmas tree lights are artificial. Human light isn’t.
The Best Letter to Santa
Posted in inspiration, tagged childhood innocence, Christmas, Dr. Seuss quote, generosity, gratitude, inspiration, memories, perspective, positive attitudes, wisdom, world peace on December 11, 2022| Leave a Comment »
A person’s a person, no matter how small. Dr. Seuss
My son Greg is four years old in this memory. Not every word is accurate. The spirit of the tale remains true.
“Mommy, will you write a letter to Santa for me?”
“Why sure.” I grab a notepad. My young son begins his list before I can grab a pen from the drawer.
“Five hundred trucks, puzzles, books—the fun kind that make everybody laugh, and let’s see…”
“Wait a minute. Start again. Five hundred?”
“Right. This list is for the poor kids.”
I complete the letter, see what I have in my pantry to give, and then pray that my son’s request becomes real someday.