Heaps of giggles

Not having raised boys, I had no first-hand experience until the title “Grandmother” was bestowed upon me. Twice within two years. Boys both times.

Some say the expectancy for boys to like traditional “boy” things and girls to like traditional “girl” things is early conveyed in family settings.

The fact remains that, for whatever reasons, boys play differently from girls. Things that turn girls off, send boys into gales of uncontrollable laughter.

Case in point: Walking home from school with my grandsons one fine spring day, I was embarrassed to pass some gas. It was a very small social faux pas, which I hoped had gone unnoticed. Not so. One grandson, with a grin of respect commented, “Grandma, that was awesome!”

This grandmother sighed deeply. “Of all the things I would like to be considered awesome for,” I replied, “That was not one of them.”

He danced with glee.

When it’s too cold to go out for recess, the boys come home full of unspent energy. After dinner last night, they invented a new game. You could call it belly-flopping down the stairs. It was nearly as good as the sledding they’d done the previous week-end. Up the stairs they skipped; down the stairs they thumped, head-first and single file, until they fell into a giggling puppy heap at the bottom.

For both boys and girls, I love the approach taken by religious author Mary Baker Eddy. Focusing on that purity Jesus loved, she defines, “CHILDREN. The spiritual thoughts and representatives of Life, Truth, and Love.”



This standard supports the best of their creativity, generosity, and (let's be sure to include) intelligence.

The dance

This little piece came in an email the other day. It has a good message.



Dancing With God
Author unknown


When I meditated on the word Guidance,

I kept seeing "dance" at the end of the word.

I remember reading that doing God's will is a lot like dancing.

When two people try to lead, nothing feels right.

The movement doesn't flow with the music,

And everything is quite uncomfortable and jerky.

When one person realizes that, and lets the other lead,

Both bodies begin to flow with the music.

One gives gentle cues, perhaps with a nudge to the back

Or by pressing Lightly in one direction or another.

It's as if two become one body, moving beautifully.

The dance takes surrender, willingness,

And attentiveness from one person

And gentle guidance and skill from the other.

My eyes drew back to the word Guidance.

When I saw "G": I thought of God, followed by "u" and "I".

"God, "u" and "I" dance."

God, you, and I dance.

You lead, I follow.

Community

A symbol of affection and caring

Steve has retired. The library held an open house for him this afternoon. There was standing room only at 3 O'clock when speakers began their tributes.

Steve has been with the library 28 years. The unusual thing is, Steve sits in a wheelchair. The photoboard showed him in a wheelchair at his graduation from the University of Illinois some decades ago. He gets around very skillfully. As he said, “What makes me feel good is that nobody has ever cared that I’m in a wheelchair. What they care about is that I can help them find the information they need.”

That pretty much sums it up.

Over the past 28 years, we’ve had a lot of winter snow. Try navigating your trusty wheelchair through 3 inches of snow. Yet we heard how village snowplow drivers would suddenly appear, give Steve a thumbs up, and clear the road from his apartment to the library a couple of blocks away. That’s community.

Speaker after speaker praised Steve’s determination, his tenacity in looking up “stumps” – tough questions a patron needed to research, his equal treatment of whoever came in needing a reference answer. Clearly his fellow staff are devoted to him and wish him well. Village residents spoke of the inspiration and encouragement Steve has provided at difficult times in their lives.

Steve in turn said that what has helped him through down times has been his faith. He is a man who lives that faith through his attitude of good-will and ready helpfulness.

I haven’t known Steve that well or that long. But whenever I needed information, he has been as quick and thorough in his assistance to me, as apparently he has been to everyone else for the past 28 years. So I wrote a little poem of praise and appreciation, put it in a card, and dropped it in the “Cards for Steve” box. I hope that box held lots of cards.

Those of us who benefited from Steve’s cheerful and expert help in the reference section will miss him. And we all wish him well.

At the Lincoln Memorial

Enjoy the moment a bit longer.

A time for healing and going forward

Blue skies grace Inauguration Day

on my TV screen

Over two million people crowding the parade route. Some broadcaster wryly estimated one porta-potty for every 400 people!

The amazing formal celebration of power transition in Washington, D.C. captured, for a day at least, the world’s awe and attention.

Five generations of US Presidents and their wives, from both parties, attended the inauguration – Presidents Carter, Bush Sr, Clinton, Bush Jr, and Obama.

They smiled and shook hands – as though there had never been any campaign hostilities or political animosity. It was a reunion of sorts, for a unique group of men whose commonality was the oval office. They might as well relish the moment.

The recent weeks of cooperation and support between the current outgoing and incoming Presidents shines as an example of democracy at its best.

There are some who use radio to spread rumors and undermine every effort of good. Sharks of the radio waves, they select the healthy to feed the insatiable appetite of “ratings.”

May the 44th US President find refuge in the one infinitely good and intelligent Mind, God, as he goes about the business of running the country. May he administer worthwhile laws that uplift and bless humanity. May he be unhindered by the Herods of today who would destroy those who work for the promise of a better world.

May he find the wisdom and the spiritual courage to make decisions for the broader good.

Bittersweet moment for outgoing President Bush

I make all things new!

Weeds on a very cold January day.
Yet, come spring - there will be

new leaves and birdsong everywhere.

Saturday took me into Chicago’s gritty Englewood neighborhood where my friend lives and works. Side streets had not been plowed. In block after block, houses, some of them nice ones, had plywood windows – foreclosed.

These times are especially tough on those already hurting economically. People are put out onto the streets because they suddenly can’t pay mortgages – and perfectly good houses sit empty.

It’s a drug-infested neighborhood, and nobody wants to invest in it. So apart from a fried chicken franchise and a Family Dollar Store, there are few businesses, few local jobs. It's pretty barren.

My friends tell stories that make my heart weep. But at the same time, they have a vision for this community – what it once was and what it could be again. They are already seeing past the hopelessness and despair.

I don’t know how to unboard the houses and put mothers and children back into them; I don't know how to jumpstart the local economy.

I do know how to pray and support my friends’ courage and vision. Here are some promises from Isaiah that give me hope:

Isa 35:1 The desert will rejoice, and flowers will bloom in the wastelands.
The desert will sing and shout for joy:
it will be as beautiful as the Lebanon Mountains and as fertile as the fields of Carmel and Sharon.
Everyone will see the Lord's splendor, see his greatness and power.

and

Isa 51:3 I will show compassion to Jerusalem, to all who live in her ruins.
Though her land is a desert, I will make it a garden, like the garden I planted in Eden.
Joy and gladness will be there, and songs of praise and thanks to me.

And from Revelation 21, the voice from heaven that says, “Behold, I make all things new.”

Oh no! Not another sports is life essay!

Girls get equal time

Have I ever said how grateful I am for Park District programs?

January 2009, and it’s Park District basketball season again. The youngsters show up for weekly practices and eventually weekly games with their pint-size rivals such as the Knicks, Nuggets, and Nets.

It amazes me how much the kids improve from one season to the next. This year they are actually dribbling most of the time (as opposed to running down the court with ball clutched in both hands); they are jumping for and catching rebounds; they are stealing unguarded balls. In short, the games are becoming interesting!

Subtle discrimination surfaces. During warm-ups one of the boys escorts a girl teammate to the back of his line. With a word of admonition, the coach immediately moves the girl to where she had been in the front of the line, and puts the boy back in his spot -- an important lesson for all the kids on that team.

You see good sportsmanship when the ref blows his whistle, and the kids hand him foul balls without a blink or a scowl.

“Each successive stage of experience unfolds new views of divine goodness and love.” Mary Baker Eddy

Seeing the kids’ skills improve from year to year is pure joy.

And so should all our lives improve with added wisdom and experience honing our life skills. Life is action -- at whatever age or stage.

God, eternal Life, does not relegate us to become merely observers of others’ progress. We don’t have to enroll in a Park District program to catch the rebounds of opportunity to be a little kinder, to watch our transactions more alertly, to claim unguarded moments of joy -- day by day.

Grab that ball of life and take it down the court into new territory!

Unusual friendship

Friendships. Ingredients include caring and respect and often affection. Here’s an unusual one.

As the closing comment says, “Listen up, world!”

Choosing our attitude

Snowflakes in motion

My friend, Marge, is adapting fairly well to her new singlehood. Some days are better than others.

Recently she was expecting some guests when a snowfall complicated her plans. The sidewalk and driveway needed shoveling. With a sigh she put on her winter clothes and, shovel in hand, faced what must be done.

Then Marge remembered a Bible verse that had grabbed her attention earlier that day: "Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands. Serve the Lord with gladness:" (Psalms 100:1,2)

She realized that a sigh of resignation wasn't a particularly joyous noise. Furthermore she was honoring and serving God by making it safe for her guests to come to her house, so she might as well be cheerful about it.

So Marge changed her attitude to one of gratitude that she could shovel the snow! Somehow she completed the job with less effort than she had expected. And she felt invigorated.

Sometimes we don't realize we have the ability to choose to be happy, to change our attitude, to lighten and brighten our own world, and that of everyone around us. This recognition can be especially clear when our motive is to help others.

Why cross country?

Completing the 2.2K loop

My oldest grandson and I had a special adventure. We went north to the snow country to visit Kim and to learn cross country skiing. And there was so much love.

Cross country is quite fun once you get into it. Unlike downhill, cross country skiing is work. While gravity helps you a little, you use your whole body most of the time – which is also part of the appeal.

And it’s beautiful. Even as your feet glide across a foot of snow, at eye level the white stuff perches delicately on green pine branches against blue sky. You hear the quiet.

Like most quiet sports, you are one with your environment. It’s like the difference between driving through your neighborhood and walking along the same streets. You discover special details at the slow speed that are lost when driving.

In cross country, you ski downhill, and you also ski uphill. Fish-scale etchings on the bottom of these narrow skis keep you from sliding backwards as you trek up the gentler inclines. And they don’t interfere with gathering speed downhill.

Kim’s son – a gentle giant of a guy on the Conserve School cross country ski team – was so kind and patient, guiding me through the 2.2 K loop.

When my grandson felt he had failed because he fell down in the first 15 minutes and was ready to quit, Kim made him feel loved and worthwhile.

She helped him put learning new skills into perspective by telling him funny stories about her own “face plants" – when she had fallen flat on her face. So he cheered up, went out with our group, and proudly completed the 2.2 K loop.

“All nature teaches God's love to man . . .” (Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, by Mary Baker Eddy)

And so do kind people.

Should we stop for beauty, music, or art?

This came in an email today. It's a good reminder.


A man stood in a metro station in Washington DC on a cold January morning, and played his violin -- six Bach pieces for about 40 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousand of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.

A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tugged him along, but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 40 minutes the musician played, only 7 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $59. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed. No one applauded.

No one knew this violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the finest musicians in the world today. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written on a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of an social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people.

The outlines were -- in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour:

• Do we perceive beauty?
• Do we stop to appreciate it?
• Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be:If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

Here is a video clip on YouTube from The Washington Post.