A friend is half one's own soul.
-Saint Augustine
Christians never say "Goodbye."
-C.S. Lewis
Tuesday, December 23
Monday, December 22
I think Hebrews 2:14 perfectly states what Christmas is about.
Because God's children are human beings-made of flesh and blood-Jesus also became flesh and blood by being born in human form. For only as a human being could he die, and only by dying could he break the power of the devil, who had the power of death...it was necessary for Jesus to be in every respect like us, his brothers and sisters, so that he could be our merciful and faithful High Priest before God. He then could offer a sacrifice that would take away the sins of the people. Since he himself has gone through suffering and temptation, he is able to help us when we are being tempted.
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"The Crown Prince of the Ages" may be my favorite Christmas carol. Fyi.
Long ago, as tiny infant came to earth
our blessed Lord, poor, and laid within a manger,
by the shepherds first adored.
While on earth He healed the sufferer,
showed the meek the path to heaven,
Then on Calvary gave His life blood
that our sins might be forgiven.
And we love our blessed Savior;
soon to earth He'll come to reign,
For He's gone to heaven before us,
but He said, "I'll come again."
See! The Eastern dawn is breaking;
earthly night will soon be o'er.
There are signs now of His coming,
He is almost at the door--
Not a humble Jewish infant to be spurned
and thrust aside, but the King, the Crown Prince
glorious, to receive a glorious bride.
He is coming, surely coming;
those who for His presence yearn,
Robed and ready to receive Him
thus shall hasten His return.
Now with hope, the gospel heeding,
let us watch and ever be
Ready for the Bridegroom's coming
when with joy His face we'll see.
Christmas angels, spread the message
that the meek and lowly One,
Now the Crown Prince of the Ages,
comes in clouds to take us home.
We are watching, waiting, longing,
struggling from earth's fetters free;
Come, Lord Jesus! Oh, come quickly:
here are hearts that long for Thee.
-F. Hadassah Harriman
Because God's children are human beings-made of flesh and blood-Jesus also became flesh and blood by being born in human form. For only as a human being could he die, and only by dying could he break the power of the devil, who had the power of death...it was necessary for Jesus to be in every respect like us, his brothers and sisters, so that he could be our merciful and faithful High Priest before God. He then could offer a sacrifice that would take away the sins of the people. Since he himself has gone through suffering and temptation, he is able to help us when we are being tempted.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The Crown Prince of the Ages" may be my favorite Christmas carol. Fyi.
Long ago, as tiny infant came to earth
our blessed Lord, poor, and laid within a manger,
by the shepherds first adored.
While on earth He healed the sufferer,
showed the meek the path to heaven,
Then on Calvary gave His life blood
that our sins might be forgiven.
And we love our blessed Savior;
soon to earth He'll come to reign,
For He's gone to heaven before us,
but He said, "I'll come again."
See! The Eastern dawn is breaking;
earthly night will soon be o'er.
There are signs now of His coming,
He is almost at the door--
Not a humble Jewish infant to be spurned
and thrust aside, but the King, the Crown Prince
glorious, to receive a glorious bride.
He is coming, surely coming;
those who for His presence yearn,
Robed and ready to receive Him
thus shall hasten His return.
Now with hope, the gospel heeding,
let us watch and ever be
Ready for the Bridegroom's coming
when with joy His face we'll see.
Christmas angels, spread the message
that the meek and lowly One,
Now the Crown Prince of the Ages,
comes in clouds to take us home.
We are watching, waiting, longing,
struggling from earth's fetters free;
Come, Lord Jesus! Oh, come quickly:
here are hearts that long for Thee.
-F. Hadassah Harriman
Friday, December 19
Wednesday, December 10
Waiting Room
I was in the waiting room at the dentist's office when a man walked in with two boys who looked to be around 9 and 6 years old. I stood at the counter as the receptionist, between sneezing fits, slowly checked her computer to set up another appointment for me.
The man and the boys sat down but the younger one wasn't seated for long. With a sudden movement that caught my attention, he propelled himself out of his chair and executed a perfect cartwheel in the middle of the waiting room floor.
"Wow!" I exclaimed, genuinely impressed. The boy smiled, lowered his gaze shyly and stole back to his chair. However, in a moment he was back on stage, this time rolling from a neat somersault into a handstand which he held for 30 seconds.
When I said "Very good!" he removed his hands from the floor, balancing momentarily on his head alone. This time when he stood up, he looked at me directly and grinned like a champ. I felt a bond between us. Perhaps something links a spectator who wants to be entertained and a performer who desires admiration.
Other than myself, the man and the boys, the waiting room was empty. The man, who I suppose was the boy's father, had his eyes fixed on the TV and appeared to be ignoring his son.
At the time I thought the boy was performing for me alone and I felt privileged to be the one he was performing for. Now I realize that his father was part of his intended audience. I think that is always the case with children, even if they know their parents aren't watching. They will continue to perform with heartbreaking faith and hope...for a while.
That's what I wanted to tell the man. Do not miss this opportunity. Because he is doing it for you, the show your little boy is putting on is a million times better than that Spanish soccer game on TV. In ten years, which will go by quicker than you could believe, he might tune you out like you're tuning him out now and your questions--how was school, where are you going, how are you doing--will go unanswered.
Maybe the man had a terrible toothache and could not be attentive because of his pain. Maybe circumstances beyond his control were making him depressed or discouraged. Maybe he watches his son do gymnastics ten hours a day and is tired of it. I do not want to assume or misjudge.
As I watched the scene, what I wanted was to love and affirm the boy. I wanted a device like the memory eraser in Men in Black, that I could beam at the man, his boys and the receptionist which would convince them for a few minutes that I was a safe person. When they were sufficiently beamed I would get on my knees, look the boy in the eyes, say "You are wonderful" and hug him.
Back on the floor, the little performer rocketed into a handstand and spun on his head a la break dancing. Far from wondering what was taking the receptionist so long, or what on earth she could be doing in the back room, I was absorbed in watching the boy and was sorry when the receptionist handed me the card with my appointment date and said "Have a nice day."
In the car on the way home I heard "The Little Drummer Boy". The thought of the drummer boy giving Jesus the only thing he had, his talent, made me think of the boy in the waiting room.
I can imagine him there in that familiar scene, his beautiful imp face and buzz cut hair, his missing-teeth smile lighting the place up. Gold softly gleaming, the scent of frankincense mingling with the odor of animals, manure and hay. The little boy dropping to his hands, springing up smoothly and twirling on his head. Jesus' milky black infant eyes focusing for the first time on someone other than His mother.
Was His consciousness like that of any other human baby, or did He always have the mind of God? This is something I've often wondered about the Incarnation.
If, as a baby, Jesus had seen the little gymnast from the waiting room, I wonder if the boy would have danced before His eyes as a mere motion, distracting like a baby rattle but no more than that. Or would He have looked with awareness at the boy and thought, "You are wonderful. I love you. You are why I am here."
The man and the boys sat down but the younger one wasn't seated for long. With a sudden movement that caught my attention, he propelled himself out of his chair and executed a perfect cartwheel in the middle of the waiting room floor.
"Wow!" I exclaimed, genuinely impressed. The boy smiled, lowered his gaze shyly and stole back to his chair. However, in a moment he was back on stage, this time rolling from a neat somersault into a handstand which he held for 30 seconds.
When I said "Very good!" he removed his hands from the floor, balancing momentarily on his head alone. This time when he stood up, he looked at me directly and grinned like a champ. I felt a bond between us. Perhaps something links a spectator who wants to be entertained and a performer who desires admiration.
Other than myself, the man and the boys, the waiting room was empty. The man, who I suppose was the boy's father, had his eyes fixed on the TV and appeared to be ignoring his son.
At the time I thought the boy was performing for me alone and I felt privileged to be the one he was performing for. Now I realize that his father was part of his intended audience. I think that is always the case with children, even if they know their parents aren't watching. They will continue to perform with heartbreaking faith and hope...for a while.
That's what I wanted to tell the man. Do not miss this opportunity. Because he is doing it for you, the show your little boy is putting on is a million times better than that Spanish soccer game on TV. In ten years, which will go by quicker than you could believe, he might tune you out like you're tuning him out now and your questions--how was school, where are you going, how are you doing--will go unanswered.
Maybe the man had a terrible toothache and could not be attentive because of his pain. Maybe circumstances beyond his control were making him depressed or discouraged. Maybe he watches his son do gymnastics ten hours a day and is tired of it. I do not want to assume or misjudge.
As I watched the scene, what I wanted was to love and affirm the boy. I wanted a device like the memory eraser in Men in Black, that I could beam at the man, his boys and the receptionist which would convince them for a few minutes that I was a safe person. When they were sufficiently beamed I would get on my knees, look the boy in the eyes, say "You are wonderful" and hug him.
Back on the floor, the little performer rocketed into a handstand and spun on his head a la break dancing. Far from wondering what was taking the receptionist so long, or what on earth she could be doing in the back room, I was absorbed in watching the boy and was sorry when the receptionist handed me the card with my appointment date and said "Have a nice day."
In the car on the way home I heard "The Little Drummer Boy". The thought of the drummer boy giving Jesus the only thing he had, his talent, made me think of the boy in the waiting room.
I can imagine him there in that familiar scene, his beautiful imp face and buzz cut hair, his missing-teeth smile lighting the place up. Gold softly gleaming, the scent of frankincense mingling with the odor of animals, manure and hay. The little boy dropping to his hands, springing up smoothly and twirling on his head. Jesus' milky black infant eyes focusing for the first time on someone other than His mother.
Was His consciousness like that of any other human baby, or did He always have the mind of God? This is something I've often wondered about the Incarnation.
If, as a baby, Jesus had seen the little gymnast from the waiting room, I wonder if the boy would have danced before His eyes as a mere motion, distracting like a baby rattle but no more than that. Or would He have looked with awareness at the boy and thought, "You are wonderful. I love you. You are why I am here."
Tuesday, December 9
Cheers, Darlin'
Declaring that she never drinks straight out of glasses
at restaurants, my mother sucked her complimentary
glass of wine through a straw, prompting my dad
to voice his sincere wish that he not see anyone he knew.
Fortunately, the only people we recognized at the restaurant
were some ex relatives through marriage who we don't
like anyway.
Urban Myth
According the the game Urban Myth, the following fun facts are true. I certainly hope they are.
--The state of Michigan once threatened to sue a local beaver colony $10,000 for failing to remove their dam.
--Charlie Chaplin's remains were stolen and held for ransom.
---Caucasians in Brazil were dyed blue before they were executed to conform with a law prohibiting authorities from killing "white people."
--The state of Michigan once threatened to sue a local beaver colony $10,000 for failing to remove their dam.
--Charlie Chaplin's remains were stolen and held for ransom.
---Caucasians in Brazil were dyed blue before they were executed to conform with a law prohibiting authorities from killing "white people."
Monday, December 8
Amahl and the Night Visitors
In 6th grade music class at NBCS we put on a Christmas chorale, singing carols and select songs from the opera Amahl and the Night Visitors by Gian Carlo Menotti (that just might be the most melodic name I've ever heard, btw).
Kaspar, Melchior, Balthazar:
Melchior and Balthazar:
The Mother:
Melchior:
Kaspar:
Balthazar:
The Mother (absorbed in her own thoughts):
Citrons and lemons,
Hazelnuts and camomile,
Ever since that chorale (1991!), bits of lyrics and snatches of melodies would surface in my consciousness, orbit for a while then disappear. Some of the melodies were quite beautiful. I had forgotten the title of the opera, but thanks to Google I found the cd based on the few lyrics I remembered.
I had never heard the whole thing before and was pleased to find that the opera has a wonderful message and some lovely lines.
The story is about a crippled shepherd boy, Amahl, who lives in poverty with his mother. Following the star, the three wise men stop for the night and ask to stay with Amahl and his mother. While they are sleeping, the woman attempts to steal some of their riches for her son and herself. The wise men wake up, catching her in the act. Amahl defends his mother but the kings graciously offer to let her keep the gold that was meant as a gift for the holy child. She is repentant and wishes she had something to give the child. Amahl asks the wise men to take his most prized possession, his crutch. A miracle occurs and Amahl is healed of his lameness. He asks to be allowed to visit the child and his mother and the kings agree.
My favorite parts:
Kaspar, Melchior, Balthazar:
By silent sunken lakes
the antelope leaps.
In paper painted oasis
the drunken gypsy weeps.
The hungry lion wanders,
the cobra sleeps.
How far, how far, my crystal star?
............................................................
Melchior:
Have you seen a Child
the color of wheat, the color of dawn?
His eyes are mild,
His hands are those of a King,
as King he was born.
Incense, myrrh, and gold
we bring to His side,
and the Eastern Star is our guide.
The Mother (as though to herself)
Yes, I know a child
the color of wheat, the color of dawn.
His eyes are mild,
his hands are those of a King,
as King he was born.
But no one will bring him
incense or gold,
though sick and poor
and hungry and cold.
He's my child, my son,
my darling, my own.
Melchior and Balthazar:
Have you seen a Child
the color of earth, the color of thorn?
His eyes are sad,
His hands are those of the poor,
as poor He was born.
Incense, myrrh and gold
we bring to His side,
and the Eastern Star is our guide.
The Mother:
Yes, I know a child
the color of earth, the color of thorn.
His eyes are sad,
his hands are those of the poor,
as poor he was born.
But no one will bring him
incense or gold,
though sick and poor
and hungry and cold.
He's my child, my son,
my darling, my own.
Melchior:
The Child we seek holds the seas
and the winds on His palm.
Kaspar:
The Child we seek has the moon
and the stars at His feet.
and the stars at His feet.
Balthazar:
Before Him the eagle is gentle,
the lion is meek.
The Mother (absorbed in her own thoughts):
The child I know
on his palm holds my heart.
The child I know
at his feet has my life.
He's my child, my son,
my darling, my own,
and his name is Amahl!
Kaspar, Melchior, Balthazar:
Choirs of angels hover over His roof
and sing Him to sleep.
He's warmed by breath,
He's fed by Mother
who is both Virgin and Queen.
Incense, myrrh and gold
we bring to His side,
and the Eastern Star is our guide.
.............................................................
Melchior:
Oh, woman, you can keep the gold.
The Child we seek doesn't need our gold.
On love, on love alone
He will build His Kingdom.
His pierced hand will hold no scepter.
His haloed head will wear no crown.
His might will not be built on your toil.
Swifter than lightning
He will soon walk among us.
He will bring us new life
and receive our death,
and the keys to His city
belong to the poor.
..........................................
Shepherds:
Shepherds:
Olives and quinces,
apples and raisins,
nutmeg and myrtle,
medlars and chestnuts,
this is all we shepherds can offer you.
Citrons and lemons,
musks and pomegranates,
goat cheese and walnuts,
figs and cucumbers,
this is all we shepherds can offer you.
Hazelnuts and camomile,
mignonettes and laurel,
honeycombs and cinnamon,
thyme, mint and garlic,
this is all we shepherds can offer you.
Friday, December 5
Plow
F: I haven't had that Chevy going in over a year but I went out there today, turned the key and the starter only turned over about five times, rrrr-rr-rr, you know, and then brooooomm, the engine started right up and it went running right along. I couldn't believe it.
J: I thought you couldn't drive it.
F: That's right, you can't drive it. I've got the wheel off. I'm working on the brakes.
J: Then why did you say it went running down the road?
F: NO. What I said was, after I started it up, the engine ran.
J: Oh. Good. Now we can use it.
F: Use it for what?
J: For plowing.
F: (shaking his head) We're not going to use it for plowing. We already have someone who plows the driveway.
J: Well, we could do it ourselves.
F: Are you going to spend fifteen hundred bucks on a plow? Its more cost effective to pay someone else to do it then to do it yourself. There's the plow and upkeep on the truck. Ppfff (waving his hand dismissively).
F: You can't keep that stove going and you're going to plow the driveway?!
J: I can do it.
F: Oh yeah? How are you going to attach the plow and take it off?
J: (loftily) I have friends who can do that sort of thing. They'll help me.
A: (uncontrollable laughter)
J: I thought you couldn't drive it.
F: That's right, you can't drive it. I've got the wheel off. I'm working on the brakes.
J: Then why did you say it went running down the road?
F: NO. What I said was, after I started it up, the engine ran.
J: Oh. Good. Now we can use it.
F: Use it for what?
J: For plowing.
F: (shaking his head) We're not going to use it for plowing. We already have someone who plows the driveway.
J: Well, we could do it ourselves.
F: Are you going to spend fifteen hundred bucks on a plow? Its more cost effective to pay someone else to do it then to do it yourself. There's the plow and upkeep on the truck. Ppfff (waving his hand dismissively).
A: Didn't you want to sell it?
F: Yes. That's what I'm going to do. Sell it.
J: Well, I want to use that truck to plow the driveway. After you're gone (with great emphasis).F: You can't keep that stove going and you're going to plow the driveway?!
J: I can do it.
F: Oh yeah? How are you going to attach the plow and take it off?
J: (loftily) I have friends who can do that sort of thing. They'll help me.
A: (uncontrollable laughter)
Thursday, December 4
Welcome to Snarkopolis
You're a nice guy and you have nice twinkly eyes, but I'm havin' a real hard time watching you give your class presentation. In the 20 minutes it took you to tell us what happened in Pinocchio I could have watched a fifth of the movie and it would have been a lot more enjoyable. And I'm sorry, but watching a grown man break down in tears over a cartoon is embarassing.
To be fair it was your mom's favorite cartoon, she passed away and that's hard for you. Understood. But knowing the movie is an emotional Mt. Olympus and scaling it, a Herculean task, WHY in the name of Walt Disney did you pick it for your assignment?
Not to be mean or anything...well OK, to be mean, I must add that your work on the project (though I don't think you put much effort into this, besides watching the movie) is somewhat in vain. Oh you'll get a grade, but your shot is pretty far off the target. If the target had been, say, Killington VT, then I'd say you hit a grass hut on Maui.
We were supposed create the developmental history of a fairy tale character, assessing their mental, social and physical state and make treatment recommendations; NOT summarize the plot, analyze the moral of the story and read the lyrics of favorite songs from the movie, enunciating the rhyme in each couplet. "When you wish upon a STAR, makes no difference who you ARE..." Methinks you should stick with computer programming cause liberal arts is not your forte.
And dude, your buddies are right about the Pinocchio tat. Just...don't.
To be fair it was your mom's favorite cartoon, she passed away and that's hard for you. Understood. But knowing the movie is an emotional Mt. Olympus and scaling it, a Herculean task, WHY in the name of Walt Disney did you pick it for your assignment?
Not to be mean or anything...well OK, to be mean, I must add that your work on the project (though I don't think you put much effort into this, besides watching the movie) is somewhat in vain. Oh you'll get a grade, but your shot is pretty far off the target. If the target had been, say, Killington VT, then I'd say you hit a grass hut on Maui.
We were supposed create the developmental history of a fairy tale character, assessing their mental, social and physical state and make treatment recommendations; NOT summarize the plot, analyze the moral of the story and read the lyrics of favorite songs from the movie, enunciating the rhyme in each couplet. "When you wish upon a STAR, makes no difference who you ARE..." Methinks you should stick with computer programming cause liberal arts is not your forte.
And dude, your buddies are right about the Pinocchio tat. Just...don't.
Tuesday, December 2
Thank you, Henry van Dyke
Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee, God of glory, Lord of love;Hearts unfold like flowers before Thee, opening to the sun above.
Melt the clouds of sin and sadness; drive the dark of doubt away;
Giver of immortal gladness, fill us with the light of day!
All Thy works with joy surround Thee, earth and heaven reflect Thy rays
Stars and angels sing around Thee, center of unbroken praise.
Stars and angels sing around Thee, center of unbroken praise.
Field and forest, vale and mountain, flowery meadow, flashing sea,
Singing bird and flowing fountain call us to rejoice in Thee.
Thou art giving and forgiving, ever blessing, ever blessed,
Wellspring of the joy of living, ocean depth of happy rest!
Thou our Father, Christ our Brother, all who live in love are Thine;
Teach us how to love each other, lift us to the joy divine.
Today's Words
Oscillate, undulate and vacillate. Sound so good together they should be in a song. But what would said song be about?
Monday, December 1
Famous
The river is famous to the fish.
The loud voice is famous to silence,
which knew it would inherit the earth
before anybody said so.
The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds
watching him from the birdhouse.
The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.
The idea you carry close to your bosom
is famous to your bosom.
The boot is famous to the earth,
more famous than the dress shoe,
which is famous only to floors.
The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it
and not at all famous to the one who is pictured.
I want to be famous to shuffling men
who smile while crossing streets,
sticky children in grocery lines,
famous as the one who smiled back.
I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do.
-Naomi Shihab Nye
The loud voice is famous to silence,
which knew it would inherit the earth
before anybody said so.
The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds
watching him from the birdhouse.
The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.
The idea you carry close to your bosom
is famous to your bosom.
The boot is famous to the earth,
more famous than the dress shoe,
which is famous only to floors.
The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it
and not at all famous to the one who is pictured.
I want to be famous to shuffling men
who smile while crossing streets,
sticky children in grocery lines,
famous as the one who smiled back.
I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do.
-Naomi Shihab Nye
Great Boston Molasses Tragedy!!
The Boston Molasses Disaster, also known as the Great Molasses Flood and the Great Boston Molasses Tragedy, occurred on January 15, 1919, in the North End neighborhood of Boston. A large molasses tank burst and a wave of molasses rushed through the streets at an estimated 35 mph, killing 21 and injuring 150. Residents claim that on hot summer days the area still smells of molasses.Near Keany Square, at 529 Commercial Street, a huge molasses tank 50 ft tall, 90 ft in diameter and containing as much as 2,300,000 gal collapsed. Witnesses stated that as it collapsed there was a loud rumbling sound like a machine gun as the rivets shot out of the tank, and that the ground shook as if a train were passing by.
The collapse unleashed an immense wave of molasses between 8 and 15 ft high.
It took four days before rescuers stopped searching for victims; many dead were so glazed over in molasses, they were hard to recognize.
It took over 87,000 hours to remove the molasses from the cobblestone streets, theaters, businesses, automobiles, and homes. The harbor was brown with molasses until summer.
- Wikipedia
Tip of the Day
If you habitually and inexplicably set off alarms when you exit stores, try checking your clothing for anti-theft tags. One of those tags might be doing it, particularly if you remember that every time you set off an alarm you were wearing the same pair of jeans...
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