Remember the school playground of your childhood, or the playground of your grown children? Jungle gyms, metal slides, merry go rounds and the good old game of dodge ball?

Children hung by their knees from gyms of all heights with heads toward the cold hard ground? Merry go rounds , if they didn’t make one nauseous, could by centrifugal force send you spinning out on the cold hard ground. Oh, and dodge ball……thought too competitive and possibly harmful by the impact of a soft, air filled ball thrown at your child, have all been eliminated from the school scene.

I just heard on TV that the leading cause of death of school age children is gun fire!!! Not cancer, not accident, not viruses, most deaths are by gun fire.

If this doesn’t make you furious, I don’t think we live on the same planet!! An ER doctor was on internet this morning saying they actually have refresh training in how to handle gun wounds in small children, whose injuries are much more serious considering the small organs that take impact of a bullet with much more damage. Damn it!! This makes me sick to my stomach.

I am tired of hearing that it a mental health problem or that “people” kill people not guns. All other countries have mentally ill people, but what we have that those countries do not, is assault weapons that people shout about their right to own. Bull! That is the cry of weak people who hide behind a false premise without responsibility. It takes a strong, strong person to forego a perceived personal right for the good of their fellowman.

Technology is wonderful when it works, but the least little snafu in navigating it can be both time consuming to the point of overwhelming frustration. My crazy arthritic fingers made a small mistake working on an email problem, and I still have problems. Barbara is coming over this weekend to fix it.

Mahatma Gandhi, the Indian, “great soul”, pacifist who led the non violent campaign to win India’s freedom from England, gave the world many gifts, greatest of which was his eternal hope for the world’s survival from despair.

In the midst of today’s climate of division, war, distrust of leaders, as well as distrust of each other, I found these words of his meaningful. I give them to you with the hope that you find them so.

“When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it—-ALWAYS!“

This is really daughter Sarah’s blog or story, and I hope I can relate it to you as she told it to me on her morning visit. With a car loaded down with mulch and plants, she was excited to spend the afternoon outside, which the school holiday allowed this educator.

“ Well let me tell you about the mother and child in front of me in line at Martins, Mom!” I was all ready to hear one of those ghastly spoiled brat stories that you probably have seen many times, but I could tell by Sarah’s face, I was about to hear something different.

The young mother had a little girl in the cart seat as she was putting groceries on the checkout belt. The mother says to the child, calling her name, “Do you see that cucumber and pepper back there? You are going to have to help me!” So the child turns in her seat and hands the items to the Mom, who thanks her, calling her by name. Then the mother says, “ I need you to reach that bag for me … it might be too heavy, but can you try.” The child again,, with some effort hands the bag to the mother, saying, “It’s not heavy Mommy!” Again being acknowledged for her effort.

Sarah said by then she had to say something, asking how old the little girl was…..two, the mother said. Sarah then said, “ she probably won’t know what you have done for her until she’s in her twenties, but having taught school for thirty some years, I know what you did for her in this simple task. You gave her responsibility, you gave her acknowledgement, you gave her a sense of self worth.”

Just one small story about parenting that goes on every day, and the ones we acknowledge are usually the ones missing the opportunity to make an indelible mark on our children’s attitudes about life and how important they are to us. Thank you Sarah for your words to that young Mom.

A lot of you know that I try very hard as a writer to dwell on the good stuff in my life which has, by God’s Grace, been abundantly given to me.

This past weekend was one of those times and I share it with you because my heart is in danger of bursting open with joys. Somehow among all seven of our daughters a decision was made to take their Mom on a daughter/mom weekend to Washington DC. Good move girls.

It was not the perfect accommodations, or the glorious food, or the beauty and history of the city that made this weekend so special. It was the moments of seeing these sisters interact with appreciation of each other that has existed since they left the farm and faced the world with confidence and excitement. Different paths, different goals, different methods, but with that same respect for each other that was our absolute family foundation.

There were more than a few stories and remembrances and at least one toast, to the man who loved us all unconditionally. And as always, the spoken regrets that he wasn’t still here to love us still. We stay happy, and benevolent, and strong in his honor, and that brings smiles to our faces instead of tears.

I will talk about one of our outings to the Kennedy Center for a revival production of Oklahoma that gave us a lot to discuss with each other , and had Sarah’s husband looking for a fire alarm to pull. You might be interested in looking up some of the reviews. Just more memories, I tell the girls, just more memories!!

Corrie ten Boom once said, “Memories are not the key to the past, but to the future!” Dear family, you can relive those special moments ten thousand times, if you wish. Thank you for them.

I heard a word yesterday in the Senate’s interviewing (or interrogation) of Judge Jackson’s possible appointment to the Supreme Court of this nation. A word so powerful that it may have not only changed a life, but perhaps will have an impact on a whole nation.

I was moved as Judge Jackson described her personal angst in her arrival at Harvard University and Law school as to whether she fit into such a place. And in a chance encounter with a perfect stranger, who may have seen the fear and worry on her countenance, she heard , “persevere.”

Persevere, Ketanji Brown Jackson.

I sit here in my comfortable recliner, warm, fed, healthy, and shamefaced by the very reality of my circumstances. As I dressed myself this morning in my favorite black jeans and a favorite sweater, I failed myself as a compassionate, aware human being.

As my arthritic fingers failed to push some relatively small buttons into their corresponding button holes, I let out my favorite expletive several times, in frustration. Then I walk into my living room and turn on the TV!

The first thing I see is a little Ukrainian girl lined up at a train station trying to escape, expressing to the reporter that she had lost her toy train, and all of a sudden, her face lit up in a smile, saying, “Oh, there it is!” Children in this world should never have more than a lost toy to worry about. I’m shamefaced.

Shamefaced as I slather butter and a fresh, plump tomato on my English muffin,

Shamefaced as I push a button on my Keurig and out comes a steaming cup of coffee.

Shamefaced as I step outside for my morning walk in a calm, beautiful neighborhood, with a faint smell of an errant skunk it’s only problem

Shamefaced that I plan to go shopping later on today with a list of things to buy without any concern that what I seek will be there and I have the money to buy them

Shamefaced that my greatest worry is what this human crisis does to the cost of gas and consumer goods for my cost of living.

Forgive me, God.

Someone paid me a visit yesterday, and delivered untold joy to my life. This young man, and I call him young because he is the age of my girls, came to see me and tell me, thanks!!

His words, “ Ms. Blose (he called me that, and it was ok because to me he was that same young boy with whom we interacted many years ago). “ I know I never thanked you as a kid for the way you treated me growing up, and I let Mr. Blose pass without thanking him either, so I didn’t want that to happen again.”

EmailingHe proceeded to tell me instant after instant when we impacted his life in a positive way. I won’t relate them here as they are too private and precious to do so, but I told him I would absolutely tell our daughters the stories of their Dad and add to all the good memories they treasure.

Why am I telling this story? It certainly is not that Bill and I were paragons of virtue, but to remind me and you readers that in our simple encounters with others who cross our lives, that generosity and respect might impact those lives in untold ways. It certainly did with one who got a chance to express it

I’ve never been much of a practitioner of New Year Resolutions, probably because I’m not much of a keeper of New Year Resolutions.

Sitting here today in contemplation of all that last year brought. And vowing not to let it color the hope and excitement of a brand new slate, I keep coming back to what our remarkable clergy tell us at church.

As much as I want to doubt them, every now and then I get it!! That message is, because of Christ, we live a life of abundance, not scarcity. We need to set our bank accounts aside and look at the abundances of our life.

One thing this pandemic has forced is an appreciation for the important things that make life worth living, like a hug from a loved one, face to face and personal conversation with our friends, and the importance of all the front line folks of society who bore the blunt of helping us navigate this new existence.

An abundant life calls us to bring forth our very best selves…those selves that look to give rather than receive. A life of abundance means that we each possess a well of goodness waiting to be tapped for our brother.

Here is to a year of abundance of love, hope, and sharing. Happy New Year.

When our normal lives have been swept asunder under the wrath of an invading scourge of the pandemic, what do we do, where do we travel, with whom do we gather? I know this has been our family’s norm for almost two years now.

Now I have been somewhat accepting of this, but when it starts affecting Christmas again, I protest!! This morning I put on my pink Christmas shirt that my sister made me at least 25 years ago. I have donned that shirt every Christmas Eve every year, but this year, I look all festive, and no place to go!

Now there are somethings that should never change at Christmas, including my shirt, like a feast of ham and sweet potato and green bean casseroles, egg nog, and chocolate fondue, pecan tarts and peanut brittle, and a bit of oyster stew. We need grownup grandchildren, upon visiting Grandma, looking to see if their special ornament on their special grandchildren tree, is still there!,

We need Christmas carols, and cantatas, and someone somewhere singing, Mary Did You Know. We need Bing Crosby with White Christmas, and It’s A Wonderful Life, and Charlie Brown’s Christmas. We need the Grinch to remind us that even the hardest hearts can change. We need Rudolph to tell us that the “bullied” can sometimes save the day!

We need Christmas pageants with shepherds and wise men, we need candles lit everywhere to remember Christ’s bringing light to the world. And we need reminding that, as a dear former pastor reminded us, that God tore open the Heavens to send salvation to the world, with his omniscient knowledge, He touched our hearts with the perfect gift, a baby!,

God Bless Us, Everyone.