Dignity January 17, 2014

UNCONSCIOUS DIGNITY:

He is four, still has baby fat and sweet little voice. He’s just back from a birthday party.

He borrows my big scissors to carefully cut around the tattoo stickers that came in his loot bag. After spreading them precisely across the table top, he asks for a wet cloth. He places it at the back of the table, then says, “Now, Grandma, which one would you like?”

I make my selection. He places the paper on my arm, image-side down, covers it with the cloth, then wraps his hand firmly around my wrist and begins counting to 30. A professional confidently doing his job.

DIGNITY STOLEN:

My neighbour pulled into a gas station and asked for $20.00 of gas. A short time later the attendant came to her window and said, “That will be $34.76.”

“$34.76!” She was indignant. “I asked for $20.00.”

“The machine’s broken,” he said, not bothering to hide his smile at her anger.

“What if I haven’t got 34.76?” she asked, decibels mounting. “And what if you’re waiting to skim my credit card? I asked for $20.00 and $20.00 is what I wanted. I asked for $20.00, clear as a bell. You were standing right there. $20.00!”

He was laughing outright now.

In the end she paid it, emptying her wallet. No treat for her after work today.

INNATE DIGNITY:

My father was in a nursing home. It had a distinctive odour, though the staff was always pleasant and there was a large black cat that thrived on attention.

That day, Dad was sitting with the others around the edge of the recreation room, waiting to be served birthday cake at the monthly celebration. He didn’t need to be tied into the chair, as some did, but his once sturdy frame slumped, watery blue eyes had trouble focusing on me when I greeted him. He didn’t seem to recognize me and didn’t talk…until someone handed him a small plate with a square of cake in the centre. He took it, then looked her in the eye, nodded and said, “I thank you.”

1. noun: dignity: the state or quality of being worthy of honour or respect.(Free On-Line Dictionary)

2. Dignity is a term used in moral, ethical, legal, and political discussions to signify that a being has an innate right to be valued and receive ethical treatment.(Wikipedia)

Raspberry Cane Blessing November 20, 2013

They were ordinary looking young men, those two outside my door on a wintry November afternoon. Their clean-cut appearance identified them as much as the brass name tags that showed them to be elders, missionaries of the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saint. Mormans.

On another day I would chat with them, fellow Christ-followers, although in a different tradition and of different theology. But I wasn’t up for it today. I had just made a large mug of ginger tea, promising myself that after it was gone I WOULD cut the rest of the raspberry canes for yard waste pick-up in the morning. My croaky voice supported my excuses.

One was prepared to go quietly, but the other said, “Do you need help with anything? If you’re not feeling well, what can we do to help?”

When I hesitated, thinking of those raspberry canes, he affirmed his willingness by offering again. I was too weak to refuse.

We met at the back deck. They declined my offer of a hot drink, asked for a glass of water instead. I supplemented it with some fresh mixed nuts. While they ate and drank I got three clippers from the shed—blessing the half-price sale that had enticed me to buy a spare.

I showed them what had to be done; we worked, all three, and soon two bins were filled with dead raspberry canes. I was thankful and asked them to drop them at the curb for pick-up. But that one elder noticed my bountiful crop of windfall apples and asked if I would like them gathered.

A short time later they carried two bins laden with canes and apples to the curb, picked up their back-packs, and graciously allowed me to pray a blessing over them. It was the same one that I have prayed over my son and his Jewish wife and over my Moslem neighbours.

May the Lord bless you and keep you,
May the Lord make his face to shine upon you,
May the Lord life up his countenance upon you
And give you peace.

But as they went down the street, it was Jesus words that echoed in my mind. “Inasmuch as you have done it unto the least of these, you have done it unto me.”

I, the least of these, was truly blessed.

Through the Eyes of a Small Child November 4, 2013

He was talking about something, like a car crash, that might happen, this four year old boy.

“Then,” he concluded, “I’d go right to heaven and see Daddy.”

He thinks a minute.

“I’d take him chocolate.”

I swallow and think hard before I speak.

“It would be wonderful to see Daddy,” I agree, “But he might want you to wait a little while. He was quite old, wasn’t he, when he went to heaven?”

No answer from the backseat so I forge on.

“Daddy might want you to finish school and have fun doing lots of sports, and get a job you love, and meet a special girl, the way he met Mommy and loved her and she loved him and they loved each other and had you and your brother to love too.”

There’s a kilometer of silence from the backseat before I hear a small “Yeah.”

 

 

Basic Dirt Love August 29, 2013

I have two grandsons, aged nine and four, who have a unique set of circumstances to work through, circumstances that are not of their doing but which affect them profoundly.

Because of my love for them, I would like to be the wave that carries them past the sharp, hard reef; I would like to be the parent who gives an excuse note the day they’re set to write the hardest exam of the school year; I would like to be lemon balm and lavender and cool evening breezes to rock them to sleep. But each of these wishes is beyond me.

This is what I can do: I can give them a garden for picking berries and digging dirt, I can read with them stories of adventures and heros and joy at the end of trial, I can pray with and for them that the God of all power will lift, protect, and make them know His love to the end of their days.

Parking Lot Perspective July 21, 2013

Yesterday was sticky hot, as Ontario sometimes is in July. But I had a great day to enjoy—some errands to run, including present-buying for #1 Son who has just submitted his doctoral thesis, and then lunch with my friend, Cheryl.

Before that, I decided to quickly nip over to the Rec Centre for some wood chips to finish off a gardening project. I worked quickly to load containers into the trunk of my car because I knew the heat would be building. I worked so quickly that I left my purse, with cell phone in it, on the front porch.

The parking area behind the Rec Centre was empty so early in the morning. This was a good thing because I was wearing baggy, earth-stained pants and a misshapen straw hat—great for gardening but not for socializing.

“I’ll be in and out in five minutes,” I thought as I rounded the curb of the driveway and headed toward the pile of woodchips.

Hah!

The car lurched and began making a high decibel clunking, grinding, scraping noise. It felt a little like driving over a curb. But the curb was behind me.

I jammed on the brakes and leapt out to see what was happening.

Nothing. The car was standing alone in a large parking lot, touching nothing.

Puzzled, I got back into the car and started to drive away. But the car didn’t move. I applied more gas, and it still refused to budge. What? A little more gas and it inched forward, as if the handbrake was on and I noticed a smell—as if I were driving with the handbrake on. Needless to say I desisted and went out for another look.

This time I got down and looked under the car.

Good idea!

There was a huge piece of detached curb wedged under the passenger side of the car—not quite suspending the car but pretty effectively suspending operation. I was going nowhere. My phone was back home. Temperature and humidity were rising by the minute along with my blood pressure.

Just about then two city maintenance trucks rolled into the parking lot and summer students got ready to mow and trim grass. I swallowed my pride, borrowed a phone from one of them, called my daughter who called CAA, then waited in the shadow of their truck until I was rescued 45 minutes later.

The tow truck driver who pulled the chunk of cement out from under the chassis marvelled that my little Corolla had managed to drag it so far. Tough little car! That assessment was borne out later when mechanics took me under the hoist to show me there was only cosmetic damage. I was weak with relief. Then I asked for the bill. No charge.

The morale(s) of my story: enjoy every sticky, hot errand that you are able to do, always carry your cell phone and do good deeds every chance you get; it can make a big difference to the recipient and it grows your heart as well.

Fully green May 19, 2011

Yesterday, between morning and evening, the tree in front of our house came completely into leaf.  It happens like that sometimes.

From My Kitchen Window May 15, 2011

Today is still cloudy, though the rain has stopped. The garden is green and lush. I look past it and past my neighbour’s thick spruce, to my neighbour’s neighbour’s tall deciduous tree. As it moves in the wind, the branches farthest from me wave to the left while the closer limbs move to the right.  I don’t remember seeing that before.

Like the winds of day to day living.