Racing to the Door--
It was a Saturday morning. The place where I banked closed at noon sharp. I had only a few minutes to get there before the doors were locked.
As I pulled into the parking lot, another vehicle whipped into a parking space next to mine. It was obvious the person driving that car was also aware that there were only minutes to spare.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw her open the car door and head for the building. At the same moment I did the same. The race was on. I could feel myself trying to beat her to the door. Whichever one of us got there first would be waited on first. It was a subtle race. A quickening of the pace. Yet, the heart was pounding in those few seconds it took to arrive at the door.
She beat me. She flung the door open and raced inside. I was in a snit thinking she could have at least held the door for me. She knew that I was behind her. Evidently she had no sense of grace or caring for another human being.
I got in line behind her. And then there it was. Revenge. All I had to do was allow it to happen. Normally I am a very sensitive person ready to help anyone. This woman in front of me--did she deserve my caring spirit?
You see, there was a huge tag sticking up almost to her neck. I stood behind her and looked at it for quite a few seconds. The choice was mine. Would I allow her to be out and about in public with that tag up to her neck? Or would I take my hand and tuck it into her sweater. She deserved to be seen in public like that, didn't she?
Then I saw my hand reach up and tuck it in. She turned and thanked me. She said she was in a terrible hurry. Her mother was ill and she needed to get to her right away. She knew she had only a few minutes to spare and so she hurried to the bank. There was saddness in her eyes and gratitude that I had taken care of her. No doubt her mind was on much more important things that morning. She probably really wasn't aware of me at all.
Did I feel humbled? Did I feel about an inch tall? Did I get a lesson in caring? Yes, to all three. In just a few short minutes I learned again that we do have choices. Some appear to be small while other loom large. However, the small ones can make such a difference in another person's life.
Lesson learned.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Gathering Eggs
Gathering Eggs--
When I was a child, we lived on a farm. We had the usual farm animals--cows, a sway- back horse, some peacocks, pigs. And chickens.
We had the chickens for the eggs they produced each day. The girls had little square boxes lined with straw. Chicken wire enclosed the sides. They sat on their thrones and clucked away. I often wondered if they were sharing stories about the humans who came into their kingdom.
It was our job as kids to go to the hen house and fill our basket with their eggs. I would do anything to avoid taking the eggs away from those girls. I would have stomach aches and head for the bathroom. Or I would have lots of homework and no time to gather eggs. Or maybe the dishes. My list changed as I tried, unsuccessfully, to avoid that job.
So, grab the basket and get it over with was my thought. On my way to the hen house, I would think about that awful moment when I had to put my hand under that warm body and steal the prize. Dread was my best friend. Walking into the room, I listened to them cluck. It sounded almost like a dare. Just see--cluck--if you--cluck-- can reach under me--cluck-- and take my treasure, little girl with the basket. Add those beady eyes to those clucking noises, and you have a terrifying experience.
Mustering all my strength and courage, I would move my hand under the feathered body. Gently pushing her sideways just a bit, I would ease my hand under and take the treasure. A few times it worked. But, most times her head would turn with lightening speed and peck my hand. It hurt.
Maybe her privacy was being invaded. I don't know. But I often had dark thoughts of my Granny preparing her for dinner!
Another day of life on a farm.
When I was a child, we lived on a farm. We had the usual farm animals--cows, a sway- back horse, some peacocks, pigs. And chickens.
We had the chickens for the eggs they produced each day. The girls had little square boxes lined with straw. Chicken wire enclosed the sides. They sat on their thrones and clucked away. I often wondered if they were sharing stories about the humans who came into their kingdom.
It was our job as kids to go to the hen house and fill our basket with their eggs. I would do anything to avoid taking the eggs away from those girls. I would have stomach aches and head for the bathroom. Or I would have lots of homework and no time to gather eggs. Or maybe the dishes. My list changed as I tried, unsuccessfully, to avoid that job.
So, grab the basket and get it over with was my thought. On my way to the hen house, I would think about that awful moment when I had to put my hand under that warm body and steal the prize. Dread was my best friend. Walking into the room, I listened to them cluck. It sounded almost like a dare. Just see--cluck--if you--cluck-- can reach under me--cluck-- and take my treasure, little girl with the basket. Add those beady eyes to those clucking noises, and you have a terrifying experience.
Mustering all my strength and courage, I would move my hand under the feathered body. Gently pushing her sideways just a bit, I would ease my hand under and take the treasure. A few times it worked. But, most times her head would turn with lightening speed and peck my hand. It hurt.
Maybe her privacy was being invaded. I don't know. But I often had dark thoughts of my Granny preparing her for dinner!
Another day of life on a farm.
Life is a Story
Life is a Story--
A story is defined as having a beginning, a middle and an end.
The beginning of our story is totally out of our control. We aren't allowed the choice of parents, home life, economic situation. The beginning of our story is not our choice.
The end of life provides the punctuation mark. It is also out of our control. The end comes in many ways--old age, accident, disease, acts of violence. It can come quickly to babies and children or stay hidden in the background noise of our lives. It is the silent partner residing just inside our skin--resting--knowing its job is imminent.
We are left with the middle. This is the heart of who we are. These are the blank pages ready to receive us. We fill each of these pages with laughter, tears, love, challenges, hurts, mountain top experiences, despair. The middle can be years in the making giving us time to become. Or they can be taken away leaving our story short.
We are all only a breath away from eternity. We should make the middle count. Acknowledge those who have helped us along our story. Lend support to someone else as they write their story. Do that thing that has been gnawing at us for years. Be willing to accept that we don't have all the answers to the questions of life and seek out those who can help us
The middle tells our story. Write each page with celebration!
A story is defined as having a beginning, a middle and an end.
The beginning of our story is totally out of our control. We aren't allowed the choice of parents, home life, economic situation. The beginning of our story is not our choice.
The end of life provides the punctuation mark. It is also out of our control. The end comes in many ways--old age, accident, disease, acts of violence. It can come quickly to babies and children or stay hidden in the background noise of our lives. It is the silent partner residing just inside our skin--resting--knowing its job is imminent.
We are left with the middle. This is the heart of who we are. These are the blank pages ready to receive us. We fill each of these pages with laughter, tears, love, challenges, hurts, mountain top experiences, despair. The middle can be years in the making giving us time to become. Or they can be taken away leaving our story short.
We are all only a breath away from eternity. We should make the middle count. Acknowledge those who have helped us along our story. Lend support to someone else as they write their story. Do that thing that has been gnawing at us for years. Be willing to accept that we don't have all the answers to the questions of life and seek out those who can help us
The middle tells our story. Write each page with celebration!
Monday, January 28, 2013
Encouraging Others
Encouraging others--
Sometimes I need a little encouragement. When those times occur, I welcome a friendly hello, a smile, a pat on the back, a phone call, a text, an email, a cup of coffee. In other words, I welcome the human touch.
Those little encouragers mean so much when life is pushing back. When illness finds our address, the caring of another gives us hope. When our career makes a drastic shift, the help of others is what gets us back up and running. When a joy surrounds us, sharing with others makes it so much sweeter. We all need encouragement at various points along our life walk.
Might there be folks right before our eyes everyday who could use our encouragement? How can we become an encourager? Here is a simple suggestion. What if we all made a list of five positive things we could do this day to support others. On the list could be simple but powerful things such as smiling at people, telling the checker in the grocery store how you admire their cheerful spirit, sending an email to a friend who might be going through a bit of a challenge. You see, that list is yours. You can make it what you want. You have the power to simply walk around throughout your day spreading sunshine.
How cool is that?
Sometimes I need a little encouragement. When those times occur, I welcome a friendly hello, a smile, a pat on the back, a phone call, a text, an email, a cup of coffee. In other words, I welcome the human touch.
Those little encouragers mean so much when life is pushing back. When illness finds our address, the caring of another gives us hope. When our career makes a drastic shift, the help of others is what gets us back up and running. When a joy surrounds us, sharing with others makes it so much sweeter. We all need encouragement at various points along our life walk.
Might there be folks right before our eyes everyday who could use our encouragement? How can we become an encourager? Here is a simple suggestion. What if we all made a list of five positive things we could do this day to support others. On the list could be simple but powerful things such as smiling at people, telling the checker in the grocery store how you admire their cheerful spirit, sending an email to a friend who might be going through a bit of a challenge. You see, that list is yours. You can make it what you want. You have the power to simply walk around throughout your day spreading sunshine.
How cool is that?
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