"Thankful"

With Thanksgiving

Here's what I learned this year: Even though the Pilgrims hosted the first Thanksgiving dinner in America, the holiday itself actually has its origins almost 170 years later, after the Revolutionary War had been won and the American Constitution had been adopted. In 1789, Congress approved the Bill of Rights, the first 10 Amendments to the Constitution. Congress then “recommended a day of public thanksgiving and prayer” to thank God for blessing America. President Washington declared November 26, 1789, as the first national day of prayer and thanksgiving to the Lord. Another 75 years later, after the Civil War ended, President Abraham Lincoln established the last Thursday in November as a day to acknowledge “the gracious gifts of the Most High God” bestowed upon America. Every president did the same until 1941 when Congress officially made Thanksgiving a national holiday.

Turkey is still the traditional meat of choice, although the bird's history might have taken a different tack if, in 1782, it had won out over the Bald Eagle and become the national symbol. One man in its corner was Benjamin Franklin who argued that it would have been a more appropriate symbol. "A much more respectable bird and a true native of America," he pointed out. Franklin conceded that the turkey was "a little vain and silly," but maintained that it was nevertheless a "bird of courage" that "would not hesitate to attack a grenadier of the British guards who should presume to invade his farm yard with a red coat on." Congress was not convinced, however. The eagle remained the national symbol.

Trust

Someone once told me, "Everyone lies." Really? I don't. Now I don't mean the, "This tofu turkey is delicious!" kind of lie. I'm talking about the broken promises kind. When I was around 12 (or 13 most likely, because that was the year my mother told everyone that she didn't think she'd survive!), I remember lying to my father about having completed a homework assignment. I didn't have the sense to cross it off in my homework assignment book - I attended a convent school, what can I say, we had homework assignment books - so when he asked to see the book, there was my lie...in ink! Yes, he was angry, and yes I was punished, but more than that, I could tell he was disappointed. I never wanted to disappoint him again. Now I realize that that goal is far fetched and can cause years of therapy, but the truth is it became a foundational character building block for me. To this day I don't want to disppoint people. I don't believe in breaking promises. I don't lie. So when someone breaks a promise to me, particularly when it's someone I trust, I'm devastated. Not only does it tell me I misjudged the character of the person but because it shows that the person has no respect for me.

The Cycle of Life?

My book club just finished dissecting Sue Miller's "The Senator's Wife". It was a good read and led to a lively discussion. One part that really struck home for me was when the protagonist, an independent, self-reliant woman in her 70s ruminated on adult children eventually taking over the lives of their elders. How the parent essentially is forced to become the child, prevented from making decisions or thought to no longer have sound judgment. When it became necessary for me to make decisions for my father, I wonder how he perceived it? How does he perceive it still?

Dignity in Poverty

In her recent Newsweek article, Seeing Dignity in Poverty, Julia Baird says that today "poor people appear in mainstream media only when they are obese, sick, or sad: powerless and to be pitied," so different from Dorothy Lange's Dust Bowl portraits of "handsome homeless" from the 1930s. Ms. Baird doesn't suggest that the poor of today have no dignity, her criticism is of their portrayal in today's media and of our own turning away from their very real plight during the current recession. However, the very idea of comparing the two is intriguing. The different medium used by Ms. Lange allowed her to capture and freeze a moment in the life of her subject. We have no idea how her subject would have reacted if given the opportunity to speak to a reporter on a live newscast. Although looking at this photograph, I believe there's a difference between being poor and being destitute. Nonetheless, it's an interesting article that raises some interesting questions, at least in my mind.

Photo Caption: "Nipomo, Calif. Mar. 1936. Migrant agricultural worker's family. Seven hungry children. Mother aged 32, the father is a native Californian. Destitute in a pea pickers camp, because of the failure of the early pea crop. These people had just sold their tent in order to buy food. Most of the 2,500 people in this camp were destitute."

Flooding in UK

Elizabeth

This week Franciscans worldwide celebrate the life and ministry of Elizabeth of Hungary, patron saint of the Franciscan Third Order. She died in 1235 at Marburg, aged 24, worn out from her dedicated work among the destitute and sick. Daughter of a king and wife of a prince, Elizabeth took to heart Jesus' command to feed the hungry, tend the sick, sell everything and give to the poor. The latter didn't exactly sit well with her in-laws! In 1227, whether by force or voluntarily, the young princess, now a widow, and her children left the Wartburg Castle, her home in Eisenach, Germany. The following year, she took the dress of the Third Order and moved to Marburg. (Click on the link for "the rest of the story.")

So a special blessing on all those out there named Elizabeth!

One interesting footnote is that the Wartburg is where Martin Luther reluctantly stayed - for his own safety - for ten months in 1522 after he was proclaimed  a heretic by the Church and an outlaw by the Emperor for having denounced the corruption of Rome. While there he translated the New Testament from Greek into German and composed the hymn "A mighty fortress is our God".

So Let's Keep Dancing!

 Friends laugh, some even scoff but I'm not ashamed to admit it, I love Dancing With the Stars. I love this "rags to riches" type of thing; the chipping away at the block of marble to reveal a finely chisled sculpture. It always appeals. And who doesn't love those gowns with their seed pearls and sequins lovingly sown on by the dancer's mother (old family joke). But the real reason I love it? I'm secretly thinking, "If she can do it, surely there's hope for me!"

All Change

"In life we cannot avoid change, we cannot avoid loss. Freedom and happiness are found in the flexibility and ease with which we move through change." So says my Buddha's Little Instruction Book.

Saturday in the Park with Ben :>)

What a glorious weekend weatherwise we just had! One of those lovely fall days full of sunshine and warmth. Yet I woke with the blues on Saturday. I suspect we all have those unexplainable days occasionally. So to shake myself out of it I took my dog, Ben, to the park where they were holding a Children's Book Festival. It's a large park, so there was plenty of space to walk unencumbered but when we came upon the festival, what a marvelous crush! Children of all ages, faces painted, paper crowns upon their heads, carrying book bags, talking to local authors, listening to story-tellers, taking in WORDS. My blues floated away to merge with the clear, blue sky of that lovely fall day. And Ben enjoyed the outing, too.

Working on a chain gang...

Yesterday I received yet another chain email. You know the kind: make a wish and send this to X number of people, including the sender, to ensure that your wish will come true. I'm here to tell you, they don't work, because I'm still receiving them and my constant wish is that people will stop emailing them to me. Yet why do I hesitate each time before deleting them? Do I even know 12 women who have touched my life that I can forward it to? Can I just email it to the sender 12 times? Will my deleting it ruin everyone's chance to have their wish come true? I seriously doubt that good or bad karma 4 days from deletion has anything to do with my choice to forward or not to forward. Let's face it, none of us knows anyone who's received the 12,000 recipes they were promised in chain letter #3,000...or do you?

I file everything under "F"

I've been cleaning out my home office. It's a daunting task made somewhat lighter when I came across this anonymous quote: Those who keep a tidy desk will never know the unutterable joy of finding that which was thought to be lost.

Say Cheeeese...

Growing up with bull-mastiffs, I can attest to their love for and protectiveness towards their "charges". Both mastiffs (pictured here) and their smaller cousins, the bull-mastiff, make great family pets in my opinion.

With Glasses Raised

Today is Veterans Day in the US, a day when we honor those who served or are serving in the military. It was initiated after the cessation of the Great War, the "war to end all wars" but which turned out to be only the First World War. The fact that we humans haven't evolved enough yet to solve our differences peacefully doesn't lessen the dedication of our veterans or dilute their courage, and honor them we should. And let's also use the day to remember all those, whether in uniform or not, who serve or served in war-torn parts of the world to strive to make a better place for all of us: rescue workers, medical personnel, negotiators. On a personal note I remember my mother, a WW II Army nurse, and my uncle who died rescuing soldiers from the beach at Dunkirk. There are many more who work tirelessly to improve the lot of others, often at great cost to themselves. You have your own list - don't forget them.

17th Century Nun's Prayer

Lord, thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will some day be old.

Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.

Release me from craving to straighten out everybody's affairs.

Make me thoughtful, but not moody; helpful, but not bossy.

With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all,

but thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few friends at the end.

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point.

Seal my lips on my aches and pains.

They are increasing, and love of rehearsing them becomes sweeter as the years go by.

I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of others' pains, but help me to endure them with patience.

I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility

and a lessening cocksuredness when my memory seems to clash with the memory of others.

Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a saint - some of them are so hard to live with -

but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the Devil.

Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places and talents in unexpected people;

and give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them what I see.

Amen.

I'm Sorry

          These two little words - well, three if you want to be precise - are the ones I miss most in the American culture. It's not that Americans don't apologize but it's certainly a more rare event than in Britain, where people say "Sorry" a lot. (Yes, contracting it even more as Brits do!)
          Didn't hear what someone said? "Sorry" with a questioning inflection will have them repeating it. Someone misdials and reaches you rather than the intended person? "Sorry" from both parties means, "I apologize" and "No problem." The store is out of an advertized item? "Sorry" means, "We apologize for the inconvenience". Your friend is down with the flu? "Sorry" means, "Sorry to hear that you're sick." Had an argument with a friend or colleague? "Sorry" means "Although I haven't changed my position, I apologize for the way in which I stated it."
        Does using it often dilute it? I don't think so. It gives one  a sense of empathy or at least sympathy. It says, "I've been there and done that (or had it done unto me) and I understand." Saying "I'm sorry" shouldn't make us legally libel for anything. Could it be that very fear, in our litigious society, causes us to hear it rarely in the business world and and even infrequently in our personal lives? If that's the case, I'm REALLY sorry!

Bless me, Father!

In my enthusiasm to dig out from the mountain of paper in my house, this nearly ended up in the shredder. It's really not a blessing I'd like to toss away so lightly: Peace.

Even in times of outer conflict, may we all experience that deep calm that grounds us and sees us through.

(Thanks, Sis, for sending this to me.)

Upon waking...

Why do people say, "The world is her oyster" when they want to imply the "her" can have anything she wants? Would anyone ever want an irritant perpetually rubbing her the wrong way even it did result in a small shiny object that when matched with another equally small and shiny object would make a great pair of ear-bobs?

Just a random thought upon waking.

Tea and ... another ritual

"To awaken, sit calmly, letting each breath clear your mind and open your heart." Oh, and one more thing: don't listen to the morning news - the reported mayhem, violence and pestilence can have an adverse affect. At least wait until you've had a cup of tea.

Sunday Ritual

When I first moved to the States 34 years ago I never shopped on Sunday. I'd lived in several different countries as a child and young professional. None of them had stores open on Sunday. In fact, none of them had stores open past 5 p.m. except one day a week. Being raised in a Christian household, it never occurred to me that Sunday wasn't everyone's day of rest and I firmly believed in that day of rest. But there are different religions with different obligations. Besides, several professions - medical, for instance, require 24/7 shifts that would make it difficult to get to the shops during "regular" hours. So over the years I come to recognizd the need for Sunday and evening shopping hours. But I still believe we need a down day, even if it's not Sunday. It just makes sense - a time for regrouping, relaxing and refreshment. Rather like switching off the computer to reset it, our brain and body need to switch off from daily routine, do something totally different so we can reset ourself.

So how come I find myself with so many others cruising the shopping aisles on a Sunday dressed in our "going-to-meeting" clothes? Has this just become a Sunday ritual?

Can you relate?