New Year's Wish

AS the New Year approaches, I take the time to reflect on the important things in my life. Last week, my youngest son was in an automobile accident. He came out, most importantly, alive. He had some soreness in his arm and belly and a large abrasion on his neck from the seatbelt. Otherwise, he was unharmed. From the extent of the damages to the van, and to the tree it hit, things could have been unthinkably worse. I am thankful that we were able to continue with our Christmas plans. We were all very lucky. It made me take a close look at the value of the things dear to me. It made me think about my wishes for those special people. To those dear to me, both friends and family, I wish these things for you in the coming year: I sincerely wish that
. . . you are now, and continue to be healthy.
. . . you want for nothing.
. . . your year be filled with joy and love.
. . . you share a least one true friendship.
. . . you lose no one who is dear to you.
. . . no tragedy befall you.
. . . your life be touched with all that is good.
. . . you remember all that is dear to you, and be thankful.
Happy New Year, dear ones. May it bring you all that I wish for you, and all that you wish for yourselves.

The Rainy Day

With list in hand, I loaded my four year old son into the van, and headed toward the grocery store. As I turned the corner it began to pour. It was raining so hard, that it was difficult to see. I cautiously head on. I truly needed to do the shopping. We were out of just about everything. As I drove along, I thought about the miserable weather. I thought how crowded the store would be, and how certain I was, all of the carts would be wet. I grumbled to myself as I found a parking place that was, of course, half way across the lot. I turned around to tell my son that we were there, and wouldn't you know it? He had fallen asleep! With an exasperated sigh, I filled my pocket with paper towels and got out to retrieve my sleeping child. I picked him up and hurried into the store. Shifting him onto one hip, I began to attempt to pull the paper towels out of my pocket, so that I could dry the seat for my son. I struggled with them, and managed to get enough out to start drying off the seat. Suddenly, a young woman touched my arm. "Here. Let me do that for you." She said with a smile. She took the paper towels from my hand, and began to dry the cart. "Thank you." I said. "This is very nice of you." I began to lift my son into the cart. She gently lifted his feet, so they would not get caught on the back of the seat, while holding the cart so it did not slip away. She told me that no thanks were necessary; "It is just a small thing. I am a mother too." Small? Not to me. This kindness made what could have been a difficult task, much easier. "You are kind." I told her. Her response? She shook her head. "People have been kind to me in my life. The best thing I can do, is to do the same." She wished me a blessed day, and went on about her own shopping trip. I walked through the aisles, selecting the things I needed as my son slept, peaceful and dry. As I walked along, I could not stop thinking of the young woman, and the kindness she shared with me. I thought about the difference that the small thing" had made. I did not learn her name, and felt I had not thanked her enough. So, I will do as she had said. I will do the same. I will share a kindness with a stranger. I will touch someone's life today. I will make a difference.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

What are you thankful for?

I am thankful that I grew up in a home full of love. I am thankful that my parents love one another, and that they love me. I always had enough to eat, a roof over my head, and clothes on my back. I am thankful I had medical care. I am thankful I was healthy. So many children today, in my country, my state, my town, and in my own classroom do not have all of these things.

What are you thankful for?

I am thankful that I grew up in a safe place. I am thankful I made it through high school and college without gong crazy. I was able to get both a bachelor’s and master’s degree from a good college. I am thankful for my education. So many people never have the chance to get a solid education.

What are you thankful for?

I am thankful that I am able to do what I love. Once, while in church, the lesson was on service. The bishop spoke about how our lives should be lived for the greater good, for service to those in greater need. I am thankful that I can give this service, every day of my life.

What are you thankful for?

I am thankful that I have three wonderful children. My daughter and my sons bless my life every day. They are like air, sunshine, and warmth. They make the stars in my skies shine brighter. It took having them, to know the love my own parents feel for me.

What are you thankful for?

I am thankful for the special friends that have given me more than they could ever know. They have been there when things were good, and when things were bad. They have seen me at my worst, and at my best, and love me just the same. One or two have known me for most of my life. One knows me better than I know myself. I am thankful they are part of my life.

What are you thankful for?

Each of us has things that we are thankful for. Each of us knows that these things make our lives beter. Each of us knows that it should take more than Thanksgiving day to make us remember. So, I ask you now . . .

What are you thankful for?

Have you ever been to a corn maze? Recently, my family and I went to a big corn maze, called Tom's Maze, in Germantown, Ohio. The maze was divided into 12 numbered sections, and a different colored ribbon marked each section. There was a path around the outside, marked by another color, that led you all the way out from any section you were in. Hidden inside each section of the maze, was a mailbox. Inside the mailbox was a piece of the big map. Once you had all the pieces, you had a completed map. As we walked through the maze, I could not help but think how our lives were much like the corn maze …

At start of the maze, we had nothing. We did not now which direction to go, or where the paths might lead us. The children were close by our sides. We chose a direction, and began to follow the path as it wound around the field. Every little bit along the way, there was a turn. We had to make a choice as to which way we were going to go. At times, it was difficult to stay within the colored sections. Sometimes, we wanted to go back through the previous parts, and sometimes, we wanted to skip ahead to the next piece of the maze. We were always looking for the mailboxes, which were hidden in amongst the rows. Once we found it, and affixed our map piece to the whole, part of the maze became a bit clearer. It helped us work our way to the next section. In the center of the maze, we found an observation bridge. From its highest point, we could see the entire maze – where we started, where we had been, and where we were going. As we went along, the children took the lead. Each section was different from the last, yet, somehow familiar. All in all, we were able to complete our task. After about an hour and a half, we emerged from the maze, having discovered all of its secrets – tired, but exhilarated, and none the worse for wear.

Isn’t this, so very much like life? We start out new. We have no experience, and we follow along with our parents. As time goes on, we begin to make our own choices, yet still not knowing how our lives are going to turn out. We go through, following a path, find some answers, and begin to put the pieces together. Each new thing we learn is like a piece of the larger map, each new turn, a decision to be made. We begin to take the lead.

Much like the bridge, there comes a time when you can see things ever so much more clearly than before. You can look back, and reflect on what you have done in your life. You have some experience, to help you to see where you might go next, and how it all might conclude.

There are the times when we wish we were younger again, to go back, and find a different way through. Still, there are the times when we want nothing more than to skip ahead, to not make those turns, even if the puzzle remains unsolved.

Some of us chose an easier path. We simply walk around all obstacles, making no choices, and ending up, inevitably, at the end of the journey, having gained nothing at all.

Some of us find our way easily. Somehow, an internal compass shows the way to go. The correct turn seems simple, and the maze is solved with good speed, and with pieces intact.

But, for most of us, we will wind our way in and out of the paths of our lives, making mistaken turns along the way. We will walk the same paths more than once, and get lost within the maze. We will make the poor choices along with the good, and we will keep going. As we travel through the sections, and gain pieces to the puzzle, we will learn. We will try and find the answers, and make choices based on the information we have. It may take us longer, and we may be a bit more worn, but we will make it.

In the end, we will reach the end just as everyone else did. We will be victorious, yes. But maybe, we will be a bit fuller, and maybe, a bit wiser for the journey.

Stories

How many ways can you think of to tell a story? Reading a book out loud? Reading to your self? Watching a movie? How about on the radio, and even pod-casts? Our daily lives are inundated with media, and information in more forms than ever before. People are finding more and more ever creative ways of telling stories. Long ago, stories were shared verbally. Stories were shared each evening, as the entire village gathered around the fire.

Recently, there has been amazing coverage concerning the story of the passing of Lisa Moore. If you do not already know, Lisa is a character in the comic strip “Funky Winkerbean” by Tom Batiuk. Lisa had been battling Cancer, and lost the fight on October 4th, 2007. This story, beautifully expressed by the artistry of Mr. Batiuk, played out fully in the daily comic strip. This story has touched millions of lives. I have followed it closely myself, and have been very impressed by the coverage it has received. This fictional account of one woman’s battle with Cancer, and the lives she touched, has brought the topic of Cancer to a possibly previously un-reached audience.

Last week, National Public Radio’s “Talk of the Nation” interviewed Tom Batiuk. It was very interesting. People from all over called in, and e-mailed thoughts and comments. Most of the people thanked Mr. Batiuk for his story. Thanked him for giving them a way to relate, to understand, or to deal with their own losses. Some, were not so favorable. There were some people who said they thought the “funnies” should be funny. That it was not the place to be serious, and discuss real life, important matters. I disagree.

Comics. What a wonderful medium! Using the comics, millions of people can be reached every single day. Important subjects or anything you want to talk about can be presented. An interest in all kinds of topics can be discovered, and people can be inspired to learn more. This is a gateway to literacy. They allow you to reading a story, every day, just a little bit at a time. With a comic strip, you can inspire people to read – to themselves, to their children, to their classes.

“Funky Winkerbean” is not the only strip that has braved this frontier. Lynn Johnston has done it with “For Better or Worse”; we have read about teachers with disabilities, older mother pregnancy, and stroke. Doonesbury, by G.B. Trudeau, has talked about addiction, marriage, and war.

With comic strips such as “Funky Winkerbean”, we can watch the characters grow and change; just as we ourselves are growing and changing. It is not static, but becomes almost a living thing. We become invested in the characters lives, and want to know what is going to happen to them next. They almost become real, become people we know and care about, become friends.

If you are among those who believe the funnies should be funny, you can choose to read strips that stay “safe”. Garfield will continue to eat lasagna, and drive Odie insane. Hagar will continue to drink, Beetle will still run away from Sarge, and Marvin’s biggest decision will be that of white vs. chocolate milk.

As for the rest of us, thanks to artists like Tom Batiuk, we will continue to follow the lives of our newspaper friends. We will invest in literacy though the sharing of their stories. They will remain in our lives through the gift of words and images. We will read their stories, and share them with others.

Take a moment to think about all that this medium can offer. Take a chance. There are stories yet to be told. Open up the paper, and join us ‘round the fire.

Something New

I wrote a poem, selected a few of my father's photographs, and put some music with it using photobucket.com
Let me know what you think ....

Where were you when . . .

Every generation has one – One of those days that is frozen in time, and stays with you forever. It becomes a kind of conversation starter. You find yourself standing next to someone in a social situation, and before you know it they ask, “Where were you when …”

For my Grandparents, it was “Where were you when they announced the end of the War?” For their children it was “Where were you when President Kennedy was shot?” That was the day of my Aunt Bobbe’s 16th birthday party. It did not turn out to be much of a birthday that year.

I had heard this questioned asked growing up, and I was always fascinated by the answers. It impresses me that each person knew exactly where they were, what they were doing, and could tell you exactly how they felt even decades later.

I would have thought mine would come later, but, just as for my Aunt, I was 16. I was a Junior in High School in Odessa, Texas. That morning, there was an assembly in our gymnasium. All 2,100 students and all the staff were in attendance. I remember watching on the giant screens as the engines were lit, and remember watching as the great vehicle roared to life. We watched the smoke bellow below it, and all spoke together as we listened to the countdown – 10…9…8…7… The Space Shuttle rose toward heaven amidst our hoots, cheers, and clapping. Then, all of the sudden, flames! Smoke! The Challenger, was gone! There was a silence, the heaviest silence I have ever heard. Time was suspended, and the silence remained unbroken for several minutes until we started to gasp, to scream, and to cry. I will never forget that feeling.

I am an adult now, and have my own children. I had often wondered what my daughter’s moment would be. She is 11, and hers has already happened. She was just five years old, and in Kindergarten. It was September, just a few weeks into the school year. A day that seemed like any other. A day that would change the world forever. It was the morning of September, 11th. She still remembers how afraid everyone was. She still remembers not understanding what was going on, but knowing something terrible had happened.

I reflect on this now as we come upon the 6th anniversary of the attacks. I wonder about what our future has in store for us. I wonder what will happen next. I have two boys, who are four and six years old. What great or tragic events will fill their lives? When they grow up, and find themselves in a social situation, who will ask them “Where were you when…” and what will their answer be?

I cannot even imagine.

High C's in Heaven

I grew up in a home filled with all kinds of wonderful music. My parents filled our home with music from all over the world, and all across the musical spectrum. One of the things my father introduced me to is Opera, and I still enjoy it today. I remember being amazed to hear those wonderful voices as they soared through amazingly high and and low notes. I remember watching PBS with my father, and listening to the great Opera singers: Luciano Pavarotti, Placido Domingo, and Beverly Sills. I remember my father listening to Pavarotti on LP's on Saturday mornings, as he sat with his coffee. I remember my mother humming "La Dona Mobile", one of her favorite arias. As I started my day today, I read that Luciano Pavarotti passed away after a long battle with cancer. They called him "King of the High C's". This morning, Heaven's chorus has a wonderful new star. Fare thee well, maestro. I hope to hear your voice again, when I make my own journey home. You will be missed.

The Time Machine

As I grow older, I am amazed how easy it can be to travel back in time - how things can be like a time machine right out of something from H.G. Wells. My 11 year old daughter in in the Miamisburg Color Guard, and each year they march in the Homecoming game.

Last year, I was in the high school parking lot, watching the practice for Friday night's game. The band was marching on the back side of the parking lot, the girls were spinning their flags, rifles, and sabers,as the metronome clicked out a steady beat. Standing there, behind the cars, I was suddenly whisked away. For just a moment, I was back in Texas, standing in the Permian High School parking lot .... I was 16 years old again .... and and watching my friends ready for the Friday night half time show. It took a moment for me push away the mist of memory, and realize where I was. I wondered how many of my friends might have experienced the same sort of thing, the same thick, misty air of days gone by.

Then, it came to me, as the cliche' says, in a song. So for anyone out there who has ties to Odessa, Texas and the Permian Panthers, I offer you this ride in a time machine. I wish you a happy journey, and I'll see you again soon!

(Mojo...Mojo...Mojo...Mojo...............................................................)

A Creed for Daily Life

My daughter's band director, Mrs. Patti Bennet, shares this quotation with her students every year. I was so inspired, that I wanted to share it with you. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Read this. Repeat. I hope you find inspiration as I did. Thank you, Patti.

Pledge to Yourself

By Marva Collins
This day has been given to me fresh and clear.
I can use it or throw it away.
I promise I shall use this day to its fullest, realizing it can never come back again.
I realize this is my life to use or to throw away.

I am the only person who has the power to decide what I will be.

I make myself whatever I am.

My Son's Hero

My son has a hero. His hero is not a professional athlete, not a movie star, and not even one of those Marvel characters. Although he may not be the typical six year old's hero, he well deserves the title. My son's hero is Bill Harley. Bill Harley is a singer/songwriter/storyteller from Seekonk, MA. The first time we saw Bill, my son kept waving his hands, trying to ask for a song. He wanted to hear "Macaroni and Cheese". Bill was not able to sing the song that day, but, after the show, sang a few bars of it for my son. That was it. We were hooked. The Cd's we bought were played over,and over, and over again. That Summer, we went to Mississippi on vacation. While at a lake, my son began collecting milky quartz from the grounds and the shores. When we asked him why he was collecting it, he told us it was for his "best friend" Bill Harley. It seems that my son believed he needed these rocks, because of his song "The Milky Way". So, we came home, wrote a letter to Bill, and carefully wrapped up the milky quartz as a gift. Bill responded with a wonderful handwritten postcard of thanks. It was very cool! Later, my son and I went to a storytelling festival in Chillicothe, Ohio. As soon as my son saw him come on stage, he was crying out, "Look! Look! It's Bill Harley! Look!" He looked out, smiled, and waved. My son and I listened to several storytellers, and then we saw Bill. He loved every minute of Bill's story. Once he was done, we walked out to the front. We found the manager, and asked if Bill would be coming out to sign autographs. My son was jumping up and down, saying "I want to see Bill Harley! I want to see Bill Harley!" The manager walked us back the performers trailer. He knocked on the door, and told Bill he had a fan outside. I was amazed. He came right out to see us! My son, was star struck. Then, Bill Harley did the most amazing thing. He crouched down to be at eye level with my son. I told him that this was the boy who had sent him the milky quartz. His response? "Hello, Robbie! The quartz was great. Thank you!" I was blown away. How many children write to him? And he knew my child's name? Wow! We were about to go, when I realized that we had forgotten our camera. I told Robbie I was sorry about that. Bill asked us to hold on, and went to get his own camera! I took the picture of Robbie and Bill together. He asked me to email his wife, and we'd get the picture. Sure enough, we did. (Thank you, Debbie!) The next time he was in Cincinnati, we went to see him again. Again, Bill recognized Robbie. Again, they had a wonderful picture taken together, and again I was amazed. Here is a man who takes the time to pay attention to my child, who remembers the letters he has written to him, and takes a picture with him every time. My son thinks of Bill Harley as his hero, and I for one, think that fits perfectly! If you ever get the chance to see him, GO! It will be a great time for all.

Dinner

Tonight, my boys and I went to a pig roast at the near-by Park View Methodist Church. The boys had balloon swords made, complete with balloon belts to place them in. Of course, it did not take long for everything to pop! We brought my "famous" Cinnamon bread to share. I had some delicious pulled pork, and the boys chose hot-dogs. After playing a very cool home made ball game, we went for a ride in a horse drawn carriage. The boys thought that was very cool. All the people we met were very nice indeed, and all invited us to come to Sunday services. What a nice place to visit, and a nice way to find some potential new friends for us all.

Me

Well, this is me. My 11 year old daughter took this photo this morning. So, now you know what I look like!

Hello

Hello! Cass Lovely here. This is my first Blog. My mother, Edie, has been posting some very cool things on this blog spot. I thought I'd give it a try. So...Hello! I can't wait to share with you. Don't forget to post a response!