Posted in community, Gratitude Journal, neighbor, Sabbath, things that catch my eye on January 6, 2013 | Leave a Comment »
AT THE BOTTOM of the bulletin,
where it lists names -
pastors, secretary, heads of various boards, etc -
the words,
at the very, very bottom,
the last words:
“Ministers: the entire congregation“
Now that seems right.
* * *
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THE GREETERS. “All before 8:30 on a Sunday morning.”
Posted in Gratitude Journal, power outage on July 1, 2012 |
BEEN A WHILE since I posted from my Gratitude Journal, but among my recent entries:
- The NEIGHBOR who invited us to plug our fridge into his gas-powered generator. My hunter-gatherer will scavenge today for gas to keep that going.
- A GRILL upon which even English muffins can be toasted. I wrapped them in a clean, white dish towel to keep them warm and I see from the photo it appears we are at a luxury hotel. 
- The JAR of preserves found in the cabinet, the remains of a Christmas gift box. It was waiting patiently for just such an occasion and feels needed and loved now.
- A simple APPLE. Refreshing!
- THOUGHTS of childhood summers in NJ – the hot nights, the single small ranch window in my room, the lack of air… but also morning’s at VBS, afternoons at Mt Hope Pond, lemonade stands, hopscotch….my annual week at Grammie Bess’ house, her plastic cow with the movable legs.
- My old-fashioned MANUAL CAN OPENER, which, it turns out, is a hot commodity during a power outage.
- The LITTLE GIRLS next door who have just appeared on their patio in the morning cool. I think I’ll dig out some board games and invite them over later.
- The HUMMINGBIRD I watched go from flower to flower yesterday afternoon and I only got to see because I was sitting still in one place long enough.
* * *
We sat half the night on the screenporch because it was cooler than the house and watched an egg-shaped moon journey across the night sky. I thought about my elderly neighbor, lacking the aid of his C-PAP machine, how he was up 4 or 5 times the previous night…which means, I know without being told, his wife was, too.
I prayed they would be given some needed rest.
Also, parents of children tossing about in rooms with small windows and little air circulating. And all caregivers, who do not rest until their charges do.
- The SLEEP that overtook us.
* * *
- In the heat, the phlox bloomed. It takes the heat sometimes for that to happen.
- I LEARNED SOMETHING, that the unusual storm that hit us Friday evening is called a derecho thunderstorm event. (Cool maps of what happened.) It’s such fun to dissect calamities in past tense, when the high winds are no longer threatening to overturn you.
* * *
Addendum: GAS has been obtained. The little girls have come over to return the can opener. We have a date to play games this evening.
Posted in community, delight, Gratitude Journal, most excellent gifts, Multitude Mondays, people, relationship, Sabbath, you can't make this stuff up on March 5, 2012 | Leave a Comment »
COFFEE WAS ALL THE TALK in the foyer yesterday morning, 8:20.
“Had my first taste of coffee when I was just a young child.”
I can’t for the life of me recall how it came up, but there I was, well-greeted by the two gentlemen who man the door.
They always look so happy to see me, possible backslider, sporadic attender. (They don’t know I’m at 9:45 the other 3 Sundays of the month.)
They shook my hand and gave me a bulletin.
“Yep, I was just a boy. My mother would pour some over a piece of toast, then sprinkle sugar on top.”
“I take mine straight up. Nothing added,” said the other, dapper in his green sport jacket.
“That was our breakfast sometimes. French toast, so to speak. That’s how poor we were. Didn’t have no syrup, so she poured on coffee and sugared it.”
WHY IS IT these little conversations seem more important to me than almost anything else I hear? Nonsensical perhaps, inconsequential, with no claims for world peace or rescue for the economy or cures for cancer. But by them I am rendered rich and made to feel the luckiest girl in the world. All before 8:30 on a Sunday morning. The real stuff of life.
* * *
The candidates descend on Ohio now and I’m fairly certain nothing I hear will inspire me as much as this minute or two with the church greeters.
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