Birthday Blessings

"You did WHAT for your birthday?" That's the response I've been hearing for much of this week and may continue to hear until this week's close. Yesterday was my birthday. I spent the day at a church several miles away, hauling and sorting a truckload of donated items. And, yes, that is exactly what I wanted to do for my birthday.

When I see or hear about someone sincerely helping another, there is this warmth and Love that wells up from deep inside me. But much of my life I've been an outcast, and often only see that loving act from the outside. Rarely could I participate in it too.

Not only was I an outcast during my school years, low income can also make one an outcast. Practically all of my local organizations that have volunteer opportunities require membership for insurance purposes. "Membership" means about $200/year per person plus a monthly meeting fee of $25-$45 each "but they do feed you a nice dinner too" (as one person told us). So far, the VFW was the only one in our town that allows my husband and I to volunteer without membership. I've even tried the Girl Scouts, which is only $10/year for adult membership, but because I have never been blessed with children, the local GS troop leaders looked quite askance upon me every time I offered my services. :(

A few weeks ago, we were visiting my in-laws in a rural part of the state. In their church bulletin was a note asking for volunteers to help. The date they really needed volunteers coincidentally was my birthday, so I opted to take a vacation day and pitch in.

As I said, there is such a special joy when I see people helping each other. There is a value added beyond measure when an outcast like myself can become part of the group - especially when part of a positive act.

Thank you.
From my heart.

-ESA

Birthday Card (Poem)

My niece presented me with a hand-made, construction-paper birthday card in which she wrote this beautiful poem. Sometimes the best presents aren't the expensive gifts found at the store, but ones crafted from the heart.

To My Loving Aunt

How fortunate I am
To have an aunt like you
Your love shows through
In all that you do

So much of yourself
You have given to me
Asking nothing in return
But a good person I be

You taught me values
That are important in life
Your guidance for me
Have always been right

I love you so much
Just had to convey
My love for you in
These words that I say

I LOVE YOU!

River of Opportunity

I spent yesterday at an amusement park with extended family. One of the attractions has the rider sit in an inflatable tube and drift lazily down a meandering river-like waterway. Anyone who has ridden in one may know how tricky it can be to navigate one's tube lying on their back with a strong current and several other tubes between you and your objective. When my niece, riding a double with me, declared she had enough, I struggled to get to the exit, finally needing one of the lifeguards to pull us toward the exit area.

When several in our family group opted to go to another ride, I stood near the departure point to literally pull in the rest of the family as they floated by, so we could all go together. While I was pulling in the group in ones and twos, there was a woman who called out to me with her hand extended. She wanted to get off the ride too but could not reach the exit and was rapidly being swept "downstream" despite all her attempts, not unlike my own attempts about five minutes earlier.

When she thanked me for the help and asked if I was part of the staff, I answered simply, "No, I'm just out here looking to pull my mother in." It wasn't until I was back in the stream looking for my mother - the last of our group to exit - that it dawned on me...

If I wasn't already out there, I never would have seen this woman struggling or been there to help her.

How many opportunities to help a fellow human being - my brothers and sisters - have passed me by because I was not already helping out there, but merely sitting back waiting for the opportunity to come knocking on its own?

How much can pass
When the river of opportunity flows past
And I am not standing in the current?

-ESA

Battle With Oreos

This past week, I've tried NOT to eat the oreo cookies in the recently-restocked vending box down the hall from my office. Recently, I read something on using root-cause-analysis to understand "temptations" I see in this world. And, to anyone who loves oreo cookies and is trying to loose weight, the call of the oreos mere steps away certainly a temptation. ;-)

Why do I want to eat those oreo cookies? Well, at first, I admitted that the kid in me likes to open it up, eat the middle and then the cookies - especially with a glass of milk, just like the commercials. But looking only a bit deeper, I had to admit a strong pull was the "comfort food" factor.

Why do I have the need for comfort food? (<-- part of getting to the root cause) I have some lack within me that seeks to be met - to be comforted and made happy. The oreo cookies take me back to a happy, safe time as a child when I didn't have worries over bills to pay, a job to keep, and other stresses of adult life. A bag of potato chips may call up happy memories of gatherings with friends or family, even when I can polish off most of it sitting alone in front of a TV...

Why do I have the need to be comforted NOW when I didn't then? With this question, still in mind, I spent the day with extended family including 7 kids. Not having been blessed with children of my own, it's amazing soon how I forget that they easily express themselves without holding to the strictures of "personal space" that adults do. Granted, this ranges from temper tantrums and tears, to sudden hugs when they are happy. Growing up, I learned strict limitations in broaching another's "personal space." Most contacts are limited to handshakes and pass the salt. There are no touches on an arm or shoulder and certainly no spontaneous hugs.

Why are there strictures of "personal space" that I obey? When a psychological aspect of "personal space", which is space in the immediate vicinity of the person's body, is looked at, am I not drawing a line that says everything within this space is "I, me, myself, mine" and everything outside is "you and yours"? But in reality, am I not interconnected to all as I live my life? Do I not rely on someone else's work for the food I eat, the shelter I live in, and everything that I need or use in this life. There is also the trees used to build my shelter, the animals/fish for my meat, the bees that pollinate the plants I eat, etc. So in essence, I am quite interconnected to both other people and other things in this world.

But when I draw a line around myself and focus on "I, me, myself, mine", I fail to recognize that interconnectedness. The simple act of a child's hug shouts gladly, "You are a part of my life; what you do makes me happy!" I may say the words "thank you" or nod, or even forget to do those simple things. I've cut myself from others and from the world around me.

And with that void, I've tried to fill that loss with oreo cookies. That is a sorry replacement indeed. So instead of oreo cookies, perhaps I should seek the company of coworkers or share a hug with someone.

Many lives
One world
Interconnected

-ESA

The Woodpecker (Story)

Once upon a time, a woman lived on the outskirts of the village. She was a proud woman, with flowing red hair, beautiful face and attractive body. She was also well-known throughout the area for her culinary skills.

One day, a visitor came to her door. By local custom, she was obligated to invite this person in and offer him some food. But this was not the kind of visitor she wanted in her home. He was rank from being unwashed, his hair and beard were disheveled, plus his patched and worn clothing clearly indicated he did not the means to help better her own life.

She roughly escorted him through the front parlor, down the hall and seated him on a crude stool beside the back door in the kitchen. Then she ransacked her kitchen pantry for the humblest morsel she could feed him.

She spied some old bread and quickly popped the small, dry piece into her warming oven to heat it up. When she took it out a few minutes later, fresh steam rose from a whole loaf providing a mouth-watering aroma of freshly-baked bread. This was too good for her visitor, so she set it aside for her own supper and continued to search.

She spied a pair of rotting apples at the bottom of a bin and smiled. She quickly assembled a small apple tart and placed that in the oven to bake. The scent of cinnamon, baking apples, buttery crust and more filled her kitchen. When she pulled it out of the oven, the flaky crust was a beautiful golden brown. This was also too good for her visitor, so she set it aside for her dessert.

Her quest continued out the back door, and she came upon the manure pile. With a wicked smirk, she shoveled some into a tin and took it back to the kitchen. She added sugar and a few other ingredients hoping to disguise the foul stench of the original produce. The more she added the less foul it seemed. This, too, she popped into the oven, wondering what the result would be. In under an hour, she was staring aghast at the best chocolate mouse ever to grace her kitchen.

That did it! Not knowing what else to do, she grabbed a large wooden spoon and chased the stranger from her kitchen. Just beyond the doorway, the stranger stopped and turned around. His stature grew as his appearance changed. With a sinking feeling the woman quickly realized who she had as her visitor...

"You witnessed a piece of stale bread become a whole fresh loaf, yet you failed to share it with me. You saw rotten apples become a beautiful tart, yet you failed to share it with me. And you beheld the most foul creation your mind could produce become one of your finest dishes, yet STILL you failed to share even THAT with me.

"For this, you and all your children shall spend the rest of your days feasting on insects and you will work hard for every morsel you consume."

As he was spoke, the woman began to shrink - smaller and smaller she became. Her fingers became feathers of wings, as her body sprouted feathers everywhere. The nose on her beautiful face became long and hard and her long beautiful hair was gone - leaving only a patch of red on her head as a bitter reminder.

Perhaps you have seen her or her children in this world. She can often be spied on the sides of trees as she hammers out her living, eating only insects for her meals.

- ESA

Kingdom Visitor (Story)

Once upon a time, in a not too distant land there was a king that loved all the people. Because he had such love for the people, he wanted them to be happy and to love each other as he loved them. One day, he called before him all the magistrates in the land and commanded of them to design a way that would best enable all the people to love one another.

The magistrates gathered and spent much time in council determining the best methods to govern the people that would make them love each other so the king would be happy. They decided on a long list of rules that the people would have to memorize and adhere. They decided on celebration days that would, by their annual repetition, reinforce the rules they established. Further, they set up a system where there would be rewards for those who obeyed the rules and punishment for those who did not.

This, they surmised, was the best way to make the people love each other.

Over the years, the magistrates instructed the people in the rules, meted out the rewards and punishments, and watched the people carefully so they knew who to reward and who to punish. In response, some of the people would either vie with each other to do the most loving acts to gain the best of the rewards, or they followed the rules minimally when they knew they were being watched, lest they face the dreaded punishments.

Then one day, a stranger arrived and set up a temporary home among the people of this kingdom. Within a few days, one of the magistrates presented to her a thick bound volume of the rules. But the stranger handed the book back unopened and, instead, took out her visa which indicated she was not a subject of the king, and thus she was not subject to those rules. The magistrate tried to harass her, but she knew that was the law of all the lands and magistrate could not force their ways on her.

At that time, the king wondered how well the system his magistrates established was working. Were the people truly loving one another as he loved them? Was the system enabling their love for each other to flourish? Or were the people merely following the established set of rules because they sought individually to gain a reward or avoid a punishment? So the king decided to find out for himself. He disguised himself and went out among the people.

Where the magistrates were to be found, people performed all kinds of loving acts, helping one another and more. But where there were no magistrates watching, the poor were left hungry, the cold were left outside alone to fend for themselves, the sick were shoved apart from the healthy, and the outcasts were friendless. There was very little love here.

Then the king spied a young woman, a stranger in this land, and she was doing what the people were not, even when the magistrates were not watching. She shared her supper with someone that had none, she helped carry someone's heavy load, and she welcomed the homeless into the rooms she rented so they would not have to suffer the freezing rain and falling snow. Who was this woman?

The king called court the next day and called this woman before him. "I am king of this realm," he told her, "and I have seen what you have done."

"I know of your rules may be different here, your majesty, but as I am not one of your subjects, so your rules do not apply to me."

"So you do not act as you do fearing punishment?"

"No, sir."

"So you do not act as you do expecting reward?"

"No, sir."

The king's cheeks started to glisten with tears and he stepped down from his throne and faced the woman eye-to-eye. "Then why do you do the things you do?"

The woman shrugged, "It's just the right thing to do. We're all part of this world, we should help each other."

The king stepped forward and embraced the woman fiercely!

When he stepped back he announced, "Let this be known across the land, this woman has acted with Love for her neighbor, not because of reward, not out of fear of punishment - for she clearly does not expect either. She acted simply out of the Love found in her heart. THIS! This is what I sought for my people. All I simply ask is that they love one another."

Love
thy
neighbor

-ESA

Windshield Wipers

When I went to put something in my Jeep yesterday, I noticed one of my windshield wipers was gone. The other was off the hook and bent horrifically. Evidently someone tried to steal both. Reporting the incident to the police was pointless. As I walk to work, the incident could have taken place any time since last Sunday. The Jeep was parked near the back of our apartment complex parking area and easily accessible to anyone walking or driving by. It also could have been much worse; one time someone slashed all the tires of the vehicles parked back there.

I was upset. I'd have to buy new wipers when these were still fairly new themselves. And I could not drive without wipers due to the sudden summer thunder-storms common where we live. So I sat and sulked as my husband drove me.

After the initial pout fest, I tried to forgive through reasoning. Perhaps the person really needed wipers themselves and could not afford to buy replacements. Or perhaps it was just some vandal bent on destruction. In my head, I flip-flopped between the two; I could forgive one easily but not the other. I even felt a bit bad; not only was the person so desperate that they needed to steal off an old Jeep, they will also have to steal from someone else too as they bent one of the wipers, rendering it useless for both of us. I, at least, have some savings where I can get a new set of wipers, some of my neighbors may not.

I know there is much research showing both psychological (mind) and biological/bio-chemical (body) benefits to forgiveness. This morning in the stillness of my prayers I sought to forgive. One of the exercises in a book I'm reading speaks of "letting go of attack thoughts." This includes both thoughts of me attacking others as well as being attacked. And I had to face the truth, I felt attacked when I saw my Jeep yesterday.

When I let the thought of attack go - it is in the past and the past is forever gone; there is nothing I can change about it - I did find some Peace and forgiveness. More, I came to the recognition that it does not matter WHY the person did what was done. It is ALL in the past.

That, I believe, is one of the nuggets of wisdom behind the "Judge not, lest you be judged." In judging we determine what is good and bad. If they did it for one reason, I can forgive. But as long as there is anything that I hold back my forgiveness on, I - myself - bar the way to the Peace I seek. In the end, the person who did this will never know one way or the other if I've forgiven, but *I* do. And withholding forgiveness only harms me.

Holding on harms us so
Benefits as we let go
And grow

-ESA

Positive vs. Punished

Yesterday I received an automatic email notification that an airline, canceling and changing flights, had changed the itineraries for our October trip to Yellowstone. Instead of landing at 2:41 pm in Jackson Hole, WY, which gave us ample time to drive to Mammoth Hot Springs near the park's northern gate, we would now land at 9 pm. After that we would face unfamiliar roads (never been there before), mountainous terrain (which may or may not have guard rails), and the possibility of snow and ice IN THE DARK.

My first response was the typical: I felt life was dumping crap on me and I was pissed! I wanted to call the airline company and scream at the customer service representative - who had NOTHING to do with the change - demanding that they somehow "fix" the mess they created.

Instead, I tried a different tact. I took a few breaths, got myself a fresh cup of coffee, and calmed myself before calling. I rationally explained my concerns and worked with the rep to find a resolution. Instead of focusing on what was originally in place, I opened up my options saying simply I needed to get from "_X_" to Yellowstone on that day before dark. She found flights to Bozeman, MT, which is CLOSER to my destination (practically halving my drive time), and landing at 1:24 pm (an earlier time).

Then came the next step, with the change in flight destination, I obviously needed to change the car pickup. I can imagine it's quite a walk with suitcases from Bozeman, MT to Jackson Hole, WY. My original rental company told me the new bill would change from $661 to $786! Irk!

Again, I could have gotten upset, but I swallowed the rage, said my magic words, "I'll think about it" and set about looking around to see what other options I had available. After all, the goal was to get a working vehicle, not a car from that particular company. And I found a better deal in the long run for $431.

By stepping away from anger and ranting/raving how I was inconvenienced, or bemoaning how life was punishing me again or just being a pain in the asterisks, I focused on a positive outcome - I need to get "X" done. I was able to work with others and not only meet the goals, but I saved both drive time and $230.

I am well aware that these remarkable results will not happen every time. But it does make me wonder how many times something like this was missed because I focused all my energy on ranting and raving instead of resolving things?

Focus on the positive
Forget the anger
And watch

- ESA

Twinkies and Root Beer (Story)

This is a cute little story someone pointed me toward and found here.

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Twinkies and Root Beer

A little boy wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six-pack of root beer and he started his journey.

When he had gone about three blocks, he met an elderly man. The man was sitting in the park just feeding some pigeons.

The boy sat down next to him and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the man looked hungry, so he offered him a Twinkie.

The man gratefully accepted it and smiled at boy. His smile was so pleasant that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered him a root beer.

Again, the man smiled at him. The boy was delighted! They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.

As it grew dark, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave, but before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around, ran back to the man, and gave him a hug. The man gave him his biggest smile ever.

When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, "What did you do today that made you so happy?

"He replied, "I had lunch with God." But before his mother could respond, he added, "You know what? God's got the most beautiful smile I've ever seen!"

Meanwhile, the elderly man, also radiant with joy, returned to his home. His son was stunned by the look of peace on his face and he asked," Dad, what did you do today that made you so happy?"

He replied, "I ate Twinkies in the park with God." However, before his son responded, he added," You know, he's much younger than I expected."

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Embrace all equally!

~author unknown~

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-ESA

Forth Fireworks

It's been a long time since I posted to my blog, and it's been revised and integrated with my old story blog. Hopefully things will go smoother from here. :D

At the beginning of this month, my husband and I celebrated Independence Day/Forth of July with those in our apartment complex. What started out as four people, including ourselves, has grown over the last six or seven years. Someone estimated over 40 kids attended this year and at least a few dozen adults.

We told the kids that we would not start the show until it was "dark." To determine when it was "dark enough" we said that when we could see three stars in the sky overhead. I don't think I've ever seen the neighborhood kids look as intently at the sky as they did then. LOL Then came the debate whether or not the "evening star" counted as a planet or a star. LMAO!!!

But all in all, it was an enjoyable time. There is a certain kind of joy when you gather with people and share something together. :)

As my husband and I have no idea what the fireworks look like from the audience perspective, we asked a neighbor to use our camera to take a few snapshots. The camera was moved and the images were delightfully bizarre in themselves. So I wanted to share those with my readers, for laughs, for fun, for the joy of sharing the unexpected. :D

- ESA

PS: Rocket-type fireworks are illegal in our state, so we only had ground-type fountains.

Fear

Litany against fear

(from Dune by Frank Herbert)

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

Bad To Good

Have you ever had something happen when you sit back with a smile, wondering how something that was frustrating and seemed so wrong opened the way for something good to happen? This happened to me in back-to-back weekends now.

Last weekend, my husband and I had changed our original plans for his birthday to provide me recovery time for my surgery. Then my surgery was canceled at the last minute. But on the very day scheduled for surgery, one of my brother's went to the hospital. My husband and I were free to drive to his State and be with him and help him through the weekend.

This weekend, with the recent stresses and strains, I sought some time -- Alone. I went back to a place I always consider a home - Northeastern PA. I got out early and with delight, I wanted to surprise a friend, but I never had the chance to see him in the end. Instead, I happened upon four wayfarers far from their home, with a broken down car feeling quite alone. If I had my husband on this trip with me, I would not have been able to help them you see.

There are times when it seems life hands me lemons and asks me to make lemonade. There are also times when I sit back and realize, some of the events helped build the lemonade stand....

There is always a bigger picture
Even when we cannot see it.

- ESA

Brown-nosing in School

While at my little brother's place this morning, I saw one of his child's 4th-grade essays. It shows that kids learn early that it pays to brown-nose. Teacher's comments are in red below; typed exactly as the child typed it:

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NO ROBOT TEACHERS - by Danny _____

We cant [can't] have Robot teachers. What if there's a mountfunktion [malfunction] and the robot gos [goes] crazy! Haveing [Having] real people teach you that [crossed out "that"] provids more jobs for people. [Add that elaborating sentence --> Which we all know is important!] If you are in the hospital a real teacher would call you a robot wouldnt [wouldn't] know your gon [gone]. Also you need $ to pay for parts for the robot you dont have to buld a teacher. This is why we cant have robot teachers. Imagin beaing traped in a class with a robot talking like this, ETFBUGFYAFNGDXFFYGDYUGFWAFRGTFSF, to you. Robot teachers wouln't give you party's. I SAY ROBOT TEACHERS ARE A PUNESHMENT! I would have a liveing thing for a teacher rather than a cold hunk of metal! [great language] Electronical teachers cost mony for the electric bill. This is why we cant have robot teachers. [You have great craft (3) Danny! Organization is also important though. Keep related arguments together and make new paragraphs for each different one.]

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I confess I cringed as I typed that because all the spelling mistakes were glaringly obvious and shockingly uncorrected. Then I realized when the teacher stopped correcting the errors: where it became clear the essay promoted human vs. electronic teachers.

Let's face it; the child was stroking the teacher's ego, and the teacher was lapping it up. Only one error was corrected beyond that point, otherwise the teacher was all praises. What does this tell the child? Brown-nosing is REWARDED! You can get away with shoddy work if you are good at brown-nosing your superior!

While I am a strong supporter of keeping jobs for people, and use real cashiers at supermarkets instead of the electronic ones, I find it ironic that an electronic teacher would NOT have an ego to stroke and wouldn't award that paper such a high grade but correct all errors instead.

I also believe we should have human teachers, but I wish they would show some moral backbone and teach the child the correct spelling/grammar instead of rewarding brown-nosing. I'm one of those "hard-ass" HR people that would like to see good spelling in cover letters, resumes and business correspondence instead of seeing employees and candidates try to smooth-talk their way into a job or out of poor work ethic.

-ESA

Saying Farewell

A few weeks ago, my husband and I held a very private ceremony to say farewell ~ farewell to the child we lost in miscarriage and farewell to the opportunity to have biological children of our own.

The ceremony took place in Caumsett State Park on Long Island (NY). Just off the main road there is a 70-foot tree dominating a field, which I've heard called "God's tree."


At the base of the 4-trunk tree, a visitor is essentially enclosed by the tree's branches in a natural cathedral. It is there we made our peace.




With only my husband, myself and one witness, we opened the simple ceremony with a prayer to God and Jesus.

Next, my husband and I uttered, "Little one we name thee ____________" thrice. While we said this, my husband poured some water from a glass vial into the wooden bowl in my hands.

Then we both held the bowl of water together and said three times, "Little one, know that you are loved and you will be missed."

Following, we jointly poured the water from the bowl to the base of the tree, passing on some hope of life and growth back into the world as we said thrice, "Little one, you are free to return to our Creator."


We closed with another prayer and some personal words of our own in the dappled sunlight under that tree.



While we didn't realize this until a few days later, the Saturday where we could all arrange to be there happened to be May 1st - otherwise known as May Day or Beltane.


That is the traditional day of letting go and moving on, starting new plantings and celebrating life to come. What was mere coincidence was an unexpected blessing as it seemed to fit in so well with our simple farewell.


~ ~ ~


Both before and after the ceremony we walked with friends of ours, including a four-year-old who is full of the joy of life.


On our way to the site, we crossed a field with a small rise. To the boy, he had just climbed a mountain!

I also chased him around with "tickle bees."

On the way back, I demonstrated the joy of blowing dandelion seeds so they dance like white poofs in the gentle breeze that was blowing.

So bracketing our sad ceremony was another celebration - one of life, learning and sharing. While the child was not ours, he is a part of our life.

And it is a joy to share things with all those we have in our life - young, our age or those with wisdom beyond our years.


Life does not start and end when other parts are gone.
That which is gone is a stepping stone.
We learn and move on.

- ESA

Punched in the Gut

My blog is going to take a bit of detour. I still have stuff in my head and heart I want to share, but right now life keeps throwing me for a few loops. I hope my readers don't mind. What I share may be far more personal than people are comfortable about reading. But I'm inspired by others, like Hetty (@AliveInMe), who have gone through far worse situations and shared their stories. If people pay counselors hundreds of dollars to listen, maybe there is something about having an opportunity to just say what's going on in life and how we feel about it.

For those that follow me on Twitter, I know I appear happy, upbeat and positive most of the time. But I get knocked down too. Today I think I reached a point where I needed to step back - including leaving the office - just to deal with what got handed me.

As my readers don't know much of this story, I will give you some background. My husband and I have tried unsuccessfully for years to have children. In 2006, I had a seriously bad miscarriage. I bled heavily from the start, hemorrhaged badly three times - blood literally pouring out of me, several trips to the hospital and mandatory bed rest. We lost that child - for all I know children... there were "fetal tissues" lost during the first major hemorrhage, but they still had a heartbeat. I lost 30 pounds over that pregnancy, when one usually gains weight. During the D&C I hemorrhaged again so badly the doctor had to call in another doctor and performed the procedure blindly via ultrasound.

A few months later, my father passed away suddenly and unexpectedly at the young age of 64. His mother is still alive today and our family is known for longevity, so none of us were prepared for this. My mother has relied on our help since then, especially as my siblings have kids to care for and we didn't.

My husband and I were looking at adoption even before that pregnancy, and were working with DCF. We reached the point when we could go no further with them until we showed them the bedrooms we would have for the child. That required a larger home than our small apartment. We were shopping for a house and put several offers on a home we loved two months after my father died - less than a year after the miscarriage. None were accepted and soon thereafter our Realtor quit the profession.

Our house hunt faltered as helping my mother and brother, who was both ill and going through a divorce, took priorities.

All through this, every month I had my "visitor", I would flash back to those horrific moments I had blood pouring out of me and feared I was pregnant and miscarrying again. Several of these were late - and as we were trying, they may have been early term misscarriages. There were also months where I missed altogether and had my doctor confirm I was starting early menopause - younger than 40 years of age.

It didn't help matters that over the last few years I've been getting 6-month mammographies and "paps" for abnormalities and potential breast and cervical cancers. But at least I was monitoring those ready to spring into action to resolve it if something should arise.

Last summer the sole income for the company that employs me filed for bankruptcy. While I wasn't let go with all the other employees, my job barely hung on by a thread. As my husband has been out of work since 2001, I am the only income and we faced loosing it.

Months stretched on and tensions mounted. We never had time to come to emotional terms with our losses as we were busy.

Then a few months ago, I snapped! Our home was in complete disorder and disrepair, cluttered to the point we couldn't move freely. My husband and I shared less and less; we were moving apart. While we started to clear out the clutter, I uncovered the books and paperwork associated with my pregnancy and I just suddenly burst out in sobs of loss.

As grief counseling was the rational approach, I contacted my OB-Gyn for references. On one of my 6-month visits we discussed pregnancy and the doctor revealed that "it is medically determined that is dangerous for you to become pregnant." This in no way helped alleviate my fears each month.

So after careful consideration and reviewing all the options, my husband and I decided that I should go for a tubal ligation ("getting my tubes tied") as a means of ensuring I couldn't get pregnant. The surgery was scheduled for tomorrow.

I was prepared mentally, emotionally, and physically. A few weeks ago, my husband and I even had a ceremony saying farewell both to the one pregnancy we did know, and those we will never know. I may share this ceremony with my readers on a different post later.

Then I went for my pre-op appointment yesterday. Everything I could do I did, ready to face infertility, surgery and move forward ready to restart the adoption process without the "you're the alternative" mentality that could result from an unresolved miscarriage. That challenge was ready to be faced and the book ready to close.

Then we spoke with the doctor....

There are a few issues that came up. When my cervix is dilated - I hemorrhage. There is some "unknown structure" inside my uterus; any contact with which can lead to devastating results. There's no way to try to know what this "fibrous" thing except a biopsy. If they cannot open my cervix for the biopsy, that means surgery. This, as the doctor told me this morning, may mean a full hysterectomy decided by the doctor when I'm in that surgery.

So now, tomorrow's surgery is canceled and we face a few more hurdles and decisions to make. In the interim, abstinence has become a frustrating friend of mine as I fear getting pregnant. I joked with my husband about joining a convent - lol.

It's a mental struggle and an emotional and financial roller-coaster, but a process of life all the same.

I know so many others who have it far worse that we do. But I do ask that if I fail to write in my blog or go silent on Twitter for a spell, not getting back to people as I should, please understand. Some days I need to go and hide to help me deal with what is on my own plate.

Some days life just punches you in the stomach.

- ESA

First Bike Ride (True Story)

When I was a small girl, my dad taught me how to ride my first "two-wheel" bike. Like many my age, I had "training wheels" at first to allow my limbs to grow used to the differences between a tricycle and bicycle.

Then there was the fateful day when my dad, observing me, determined it was time for the training wheels to come off. I was so very afraid that I would fall. To ease that fear, he offered to jog along beside the bicycle holding onto the back of the seat. If my balance wasn't too steady, his hand would be there to keep me from falling.

Encouraged, I let him take the training wheels off and -- still trepidatious -- got on the bike. I started pedaling on the concrete-block sidewalk in front of our house, heading down the block. The ground was level and it took some effort on my part to keep those wheels moving and the bike upright.

At the first tree, halfway across our small front yard, I looked behind. My dad was still there, hand still on the back of the seat. I got a little more courage and looked ahead again.

At the border with the neighbors yard, I peeked again. And again, he was still there, hand still on the bike. It was then I put all my trust in his guidance and focused entirely on pedaling the bike and keeping it upright.

When I reached the tree that marked the center of my neighbor's yard, I peeked again. My dad was still jogging along beside my bike, but his hand was NOT on the seat. So what happened? I became afraid. I became terrified that without his support - or my training wheels - I would fall. And what happened?

I fell of course.

With scraped knee and elbow, I cried tears of distress and betrayal. Oh, how upset I was that my dad let go when he promised he was going to hold on. He lovingly soothed my tears and explained that he only let go when he saw that I was able to ride on my own. He had faith in me.

He would not take the bike back to our house. He refused to put the training wheels back on. He would not let me walk home without the bike. The only choice I had was to get back on the bike and try again.

My dad promised he would run beside me and hold on to the seat until I had my balance back.

The scene repeated. At first, he held on, then he let go as I gained my balance was was able to ride on my own. It felt good knowing he was right there beside me. Confidence grew and I started to pedal harder, the bike started moving forward faster with renewed energy.

The third house and tree passed, then the fourth. By the time I reached the fifth tree, I started to laugh. I was RIDING A TWO-WHEEL BIKE WITHOUT TRAINING WHEELS LIKE THE BIG KIDS!!!

In the shade of the sixth tree, I glanced over my shoulder; my dad was still there. So I looked ahead and enjoyed the ride. When I reached the seventh tree, I heard a shout from my father. He had stopped at the sixth tree. I had ridden all that distance all by myself! Again, fear seized me for the moment. I was ALL ALONE!

And I fell to the sidewalk again.

And I cried - again.

Knowing I was not seriously hurt, my dad causally reached out with his arm and leaned against the sixth tree, unmoving. "Look at how far you went!" he called. "Look at what you did on your own! You can do it. You DID do it. Look at the distance."

"Now, get back on that bike and try again"

+ + +

The reason I share this memory with my readers this morning is that I came to realize something. To me, God is like my dad in this small way.

God watches over us and knows when we are ready to try something new and grow as we should. We will have help and guidance as we take those few first steps into the new experience. And there are times when we are allowed to try our wings, for that experience will help us to grow. There will be times when we are afraid, and in our fear - we fall. But God, like my dad, also encourages us to get back up and try again, because He has faith in us too.

- ESA

Goodness & Evil (Story)

Someone shared this story with me this morning. I've heard it before, but it's moral never dims with each retelling. Below is one of the versions of the story.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A young angel was having a conversation with God one day and asked, "Will you please show me the difference between goodness and evil?"

God led the angel over to two doors and bid the angel to look behind both.

The angel opened the first door. Inside was a small room with a large round table in the middle. Atop the table sat a steaming large pot of stew, the contents of which made the angel's mouth water in anticipation.

Cramped and crowded around the table were many thin and sickly people whose hands were fastened to the far ends of long-handled spoons. They fought each other over the contents of the pot as they struggled to scoop up the stew with those spoons and eat it. But alas, the handles were too long and they could not eat a morsel of the stew. It fell to the floor wasted and was ground underfoot as the fights continued over what was left in the pot.

The angel was greatly saddened upon seeing this and acknowledged, "This must be evil." God nodded and gestured to the other door.

Upon opening this door, the angel saw once again a small room, a large round table and a pot of mouthwatering stew. Likewise there were many people within whose hands were fastened to the far ends of long-handled spoons.

But they were plump, happy, singing songs, telling stories and sharing in the laughter. Inside this small crowded room the air was filled with joy, companionship and love.

The angel stood puzzling for a few moments trying to understand what difference lead to such a change in the people and environment. It was still a small, crowded room. They still had long-handled spoons fastened to their hands and could not feed themselves.

The angel turned to God and asked, "What is the difference?" God smiled and pointed back into the room. Then the angel saw it. A little boy scooped some stew up with his spoon and fed it to an elderly woman sitting across the way from him. These people were feeding each other!

They each had a goal: not to feed themselves, but to help the others around them. In this way, they all received more than enough. Tears streamed down the angel's cheeks as the answer to the question was whispered, "This is Goodness."

- ESA

Blind Trust

This was shared with me after I posted yesterday's piece:

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A man and Jesus were on a journey. When they came to a new path, the man could not see what lay beyond their toes and he turned to Jesus and asked, "Lord, light the way before me so I know where to go."

To which Jesus replied, "It is better that you should take my hand and trust me to guide you."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

- ESA

Trust in the Storm

When the winds of change buffet us and the storms of life overwhelm us, it is hard to trust. For when we trust, we must let go of what control we believe we have, of our reasoning, and at times of our very selves. When we are tossed about, letting go of the little security we have to cast ourselves into the screaming winds of the storm is frightening and even seems insane.

But there are times when we must do that and place our complete trust in God.

We may struggle for a time until we are ready to let go. Our head may even drop beneath the waves as the storms in our life take their toll. But His hand is ever outstretched, especially when we cannot see in the darkness and turmoil.

He will not fight our efforts, for our free will is something He respects. But He remains near us, ready to catch us and lift us to our feet when we acknowledge we need Him and finally place our trust in Him.

It's only when we stop insisting on doing things OUR way that we open our eyes and find that He's been holding onto our hand firmly and surely all the while.

- ESA

The Shell (Poem)

I wrote this poem about two years ago, after I tried to describe to someone what it was like being an outcast while I was growing up, and how it affects your ability to trust another. Something I read on another's blog brought this to mind and I wanted to share it with my readers.

Perhaps this may also help some understand why people that are hurting WILL hurt others...

The Shell

When the waters grow deeper
The world darkens before your eye
You reach and you search
Find nothing no matter how you try
+++
God's Light diminishes
As you hide behind that wall
Protect yourself from the darkness
With a wall strong and tall
+++
A knock at the door
A lance of pain sears
You lash out at the invader
As you fight off your tears
+++
The blow you make hits
But no matter how you try
The invader persists
Trying to make you cry
+++
A crack at the wall
Light floods inside
Fearing the unknown
Into the shadows you hide
+++
A hand reaches in
You lash out again
The hand is still there
Bloody and grim
+++
A gentle voice coaxes
Get out of that shell
Place your trust in Me
I will make you well
+++
Bewildered and frightened
You shrink back some more
Afraid heart and soul
Of the voice at the door
+++
The hand is still there
No harsh words are said
No scolding, no reprimand
No curse from the dead
+++
You place your hand
In the hand of the other
As you leave that shell
You may find a Brother

-ESA

Floral Blizzard

On the walk home from work today, I saw a bit a blue sky and sunshine between the stormfronts. My husband and I decided to take a drive down to this park we know.

There, we walked around the grounds as the sun slowly sank into the cloud-draped western horizon. Our spring jackets were zipped to our chins and our fingertips grew cold in the chilling air. But we didn't seem to notice that.

The flowers had pushed up from the ground in the thousands and the trees were in bloom, especially the pink ones down by the main pond/lake. Whenever the wind blew it produced a snowstorm of pink petals that my husband and I strolled through. Eddies of wind currents swept the petals that were already on the ground, making them stir and sway like pink rivers along the winding roadways.

We strolled along each small streams and hopped from rock-to-rock across one of the icy waterways. And, as if that wasn't childish enough, on our way back to the car, we scooped up handfulls of pink petals and dumped them on each other and tossed them high into the air to stir up our own floral blizzards lit by the setting sun, dancing on the wind currents to the music of our laughter.

Spring time
Heart of a child
Simple Joys in life

- ESA

By Your Side (Video)

Today's rain brought one of my videos to mind. Since I closed my YouTube account, I thought to share it here. Enjoy.

Song: By Your Side by Tenth Avenue North
Images found on Photobucket
All rights are retained by the original artists.




Why are you striving these days
Why are you trying to earn grace
Why are you crying
Let me lift up your face
Just don't turn away

Why are you looking for love
Why are you still searching
As if I'm not enough
To where will you go child
Tell me where will you run
To where will you run

And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night
Whenever you call
Please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Look at these hands and my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life

(Chorus 2x)

Cause I, I love you
I want you to know
That I, I love you
I'll never let you go

(Chorus 2x)

- ESA

In the NOW

There exists a sweet moment when my mind and my being are completely in the NOW - in the moment, connected with all that is around me and aware of what flows through me.

It's a moment when my heart is open to Love and open to loving all that is around me.

My head isn't thinking about what will be, isn't making plans, isn't looking back on the past but is only observing and taking in what is here in the NOW.

My awareness extends beyond myself to touch all that is there - the tree, the grass, the bee dancing among the blueberry flowers, the people waking up in the apartments, the ones driving by in their cars, the child struggling on the grass as she learns to ride her two-wheel bike... and the overwhelming feeling/understanding that God is there touching/within/with/through all of these and more. It's a connectedness beyond words.

Sadly, I can only catch rare glimpses of these moments and my mind is distracted and pulls me away - to a thought, to a memory, to a worry, to respond to the greetings of a neighbor walking by. But at the same time, I know God is still there, even when I am unaware.

Such sweet moments,
More precious than pearls.
And they happen anywhere in the world.

- ESA

Why Not Now? (Poem)

It is with some reluctance
I admit this here and now
I've been negligent in my faith
I will let you know how

There was a time
when I'd go for a walk
one-on-One time with God
and I'd try not to talk

The key to this time
was to listen instead
I'd open my heart
and empty my head

But as months went past
these times became few
as I filled all my days
with much nonsense to do

I'd say my prayers
at day's start and end
but didn't have time
to listen and mend

Excuses come up
games and `net too
chatting and playing
instead I would do

I need to take on
my responsibility
I need to make time
for just God and me

I don't need to go far
whether outside or in
it's in still listening
where this will begin

I listen to God's Voice
as it sails past my ear
I'm reprimanded and reminded
God's ALWAYS near

Give some of my time
to strengthen my heart
Give some of my time
to understand from the start

Give some of my time
a waste it won't be
Give some of my time
to step towards Eternity

Take some time to open my heart
and pause to clear my head
Step away from the cares of this world
and spend time with God instead

-ESA

Enemy Action

I believe there are fallen angels that delight in misleading human souls away from God's Grace. But I also believe there is much laid at the adversary's feet that ... well, let's just say it's undeserved credit.

I remember a silly custom my grandmother tried - and failed - to pass on to my generation. If you spilled the salt or knocked over the salt shaker, you had to scoop salt up with your right hand and throw it over your left shoulder. Why? Because the devil, sitting on your left shoulder, made you spill the salt, so you hit him in the eye with it.

While that is just a silly little superstition, there are many things people will blame on the adversary. While interference does happen, it is not anywhere near the regularity some accuse. "The devil made me do it" has become a common phrase today, included with some humor. But many still wholeheartedly believe that every little wrong they do is because of the adversary.

Please, people take some credit for your own actions and inactions! Blaming the adversary on our own shortcomings leaves us wide open to two grave issues.

First, we do not take responsibility for our own actions and continue to do as we have done, never learning nor correcting the error of our ways. Saying "the devil made me do it" enables people to alleviate themselves of both the blame and the responsibility.

Second, we give the adversary more power over our lives. When we believe that we can be swayed to the adversary's will, that belief opens a door we do not want opened. We become more readily swayed and, coupled with not accepting the responsibility, open ourselves to further mischief and malevolent behaviors.

When I fail, I can be tempted to say, "Ah, the devil's messing with my life." But after some thought, I take greater delight shouting out, "Heck, I'm not going to give that bitch the credit. I'm going to fix it and move on!" :D

Take responsibility
For our thoughts
For our actions

- ESA

Understanding the Difference

I want to share something I've learned with my readers, an understanding I came to realize. There are times, when I fail to reach a goal, falter in my steps or otherwise not perform as I should. Once I realize my error, one of two things can happen:

+ + +

I am repulsed by the act or failure to act on my part. I sincerely regret what I have done, see where I have gone wrong, and try to learn HOW to do it correctly. Then I am motivated to be stronger and do it right the next time. This way, I am enabled to learn from the mistake and grow.

Then there is a much darker path my head and heart can go....

I look at my failures and truly hate myself, my life, my being, my spirit, and my soul. I am filled with self-loathing, self-revulsion, and self-hatred; I am repulsed by what I see and can actually embrace the ideas that I am not worthy of another chance and that even God could not love me. I stick my head in the proverbial sand and hide - from myself, from what I have done, from God.

This is what will poison us from within. This kind of self-revulsion - not for the wrong we have done but to hate our very selves to the point where we cut God from our lives. We do not give ourselves the chance to seek forgiveness. We do not yearn for the opportunity to try again, to do better. We are just stuck in a rut, hating ourselves.

This hate can lead to other forms of self-infliction ~ cutting, self-mutilation, alcohol and drug abuse, as they are seen as an escape from this pain. Even worse, when we cannot love ourselves, we choke off our ability to love one another; those around us suffer too.

+ + +

My understanding came when I had the rare opportunity to feel both of these side-by-side. First I felt the darker emotions, and started to hide from God. Then I somehow realized what I was doing and felt penitent for letting myself get caught by such dark emotions and turning away from God, and I deeply desired to correct that.

Side-by-side, it become so clear. One helps you to be sincerely sorry, learn from it, and lifts you up to try again. The other tries to mire you down with self-loathing and helps you to hide from God's Loving heart.

Now I know the difference and strive to not only learn, but pass on what I know.

- ESA

Shredding the Bride's Gown

Today I read yet another statement from a religious group who claimed to know how to identify a false religion. Then they proceeded to list all that differed from their particular flavor. That alone stirred something very deep within me that wants to weep and rave and shout all at once!

The enemy doesn't have to fight against those who stand for God. We fight each other and the enemy just stands on the sidelines LAUGHING at us!!! Why can no one see this????

Why do so many continue to stand up and claim that their belief is the one true belief and all that follows another are doomed? Can they not see that by claiming this they expose one of the REAL ways they fail?

Those that are true to the calling:

• Teach that we should reach out to one another in Love - ALL people, including those who do not believe as we believe and even those who hate and persecute us.

• Do not ostracize, do not play favorites, do not hold themselves or their religion above others.

• Encourage people to reach out and help one another, to work collectively toward a greater good, to be the example.

• Do not do any work, good deed or act for their own benefit or the benefit of their group, but understands that ideally one performs this unseen or as unknown as possible and lets the good of that stand on its own with no name attached.

• Does not threaten, bully, scare, or use terror tactics, but reaches out with an open hand and an open heart, unafraid to listen to another to see how many more similarities there exists than differences ~ to connect the bridges, not build the walls.
  

• Does not count how many people they convert or teaches its followers to associate ONLY with those that believe as they do; that "groupthink" is how many are lead astray collectively.
  

Please, stop the fighting, both inter-denominational and inter-religious. A force divided can not stand as strong. Humanity was granted a very special gift that together we can do far more than the sum of our individual efforts.

Can you not see, what our fighting is doing? We are failing to realize that gift - that potential! And in the meantime we, ourselves, are bringing about our own defeat.

Please stop
Open our eyes
Open our ears

-ESA

God is Not Vanilla!

Recently I've corresponded with a fellow Christian from a different denomination. Curious about the specific beliefs, customs, practices and interpretations, I asked some questions. Before long, I was deluged with everything from sermons, to lessons, to videos and songs, to news and even the recent announcement from the head of their denomination.

Perhaps the sender hoped I'd join the same flock. But much of what I received left me with a very bitter taste in my mouth. While I've seen this with other religious groups - Christian, non-Christian and even some atheists, this recent interchange brought it home once again...

There are people that believe that THEIR way is the one and ONLY way. That everything they say about God is 100% correct. And that those who do not agree with them are going to suffer - anything from ostracism and insults in this world to eternal damnation in the next. This is the BIGGEST turnoff for me and even disgusts me when I see it taken to extremes!

GOD IS NOT VANILLA!

The best description I know is "God is unknowable." Period! Human beings are not able to fully understand all the myriad and mysterious aspects of God.

Those that limit God to their beliefs / understandings and cast judgment, cut off or ridicule others loose so much by their actions. They do such a grave disservice, both to God and to their own attempts of truly getting to know God.

I may not get them to see as I do. But I do try to keep my eyes, hand and heart open even if theirs are closed.

He drew a circle
That shut me out.
Heretic, rebel,
A thing to flout.
But Love and I
Had the wit to win;
We drew a circle
And took him in!

-Edwin Markham

- ESA

Twit-Gusted!

Those that follow my Twitter account closely may have noticed I dropped off twitter for a bit. Before I disappeared, I stopped thanking people publicly for re-postings/"retweets" (RTs), follow recommendations (FF), and mentions of my user-name in general.

While I still believe it's polite to thank someone when they recommend me, send greetings my way and sharing (RT) one of my posts that they liked, I came to realize that people like to see their user-name mentioned publicly on Twitter - including me. In order to perpetuate the mention of their user-name, some would re-post anything containing their user-name, including posts where I thanked a group of people.

This produced multiple copies of the same list, as one person would re-post it and others would re-post the re-postings, and so on. Soon my inbox was inundated with more nonsense re-posts than there were tribbles on the Enterprise!

All this is simply because people enjoy stroking their own and each other's egos. No useful information, inspiration, motivation, conversation or humor are in those posts, just repeated strings of usernames for the sake of seeing your name again and again.

It disgusted me when I realized what it was. Not only when I saw people do this earnestly every day, but also because I kept adding fuel to it when I continued to thank them publicly. I was also shamed because I also took delight in getting my ego stroked too as I jumped into the mutual masturbation circle.

I started to thank people privately through direct messages (DM's) on twitter and will probably continue to do so. But I had to take a step away from twitter - in disgust and shame.

How easy it was to start to love the feeling that welled within me when I saw my name mentioned, when I basked in the glow of recognition, and when I let that feeling steer me away from what I want to do with the tool twitter provides.

- ESA

Lament (Poem)

I heard the news today and with much fuss,
I curse the distance that stands between us.

Can it be true?
What they say about you?
From occasional drink to mind-numbing every night?
My dear friend, that is just not right.

Were I able, I'd be at your home this very night,
Throwing out the liquor and any alcohol in sight!
Think to get more; you wouldn't get far.
I have thrown myself atop someone's car.
But I'd rather damage a friend's car
Than bury that friend ~ by far!

My poor friend, I hope you come to know
I love you dearly and curse the miles so!!!
Acknowledge your struggle and pain I certainly do.
But I can not stay silent knowing what abuse can do.
You've started down that path; I've seen it before.
Job loss, totaled car, illness, death, so much more.
:(

Pain, disgust and despair;
These I know can lead you there.
Please don't let yourself this way be.
I thought you FOUGHT all things from the enemy.

Tell me to shut up, that I don't know anything.
That my words are nonsense; that I can be downright mean!
That I don't have the right to tell you how to live.
I'd rather you'd hate me, than face the alternative.

My dear friend, before I loose you,
Please, please open your eyes!
The unnumbered miles between us
Would not encompass my desperate cries!

-ESA

Sunrise Service (Poem)

Awake before the hours
of pre-dawn light
I don my work clothes
with much delight

Before the eastern horizon
is touched by the sun
Driven to a New England church
my in-laws and I have done

Before small children have started
their annual egg hunt
Cartons of eggs, ham and equipment
were hauled by this runt

Let's not forget one important part
We also helped start up the coffee pot

Eggs were scrambled
Ham was baked
Kitchen crew was busy
Make no mistake

From set-up to break-down
And all in between
We were an efficient crew
Left every thing clean

But when it came time
And there was no praise
Some felt we deserve...

The true message
of that day reminds us...
We all called to Serve

-ESA

Crying Wolf

Yesterday, I celebrated Easter with my family. While I was gathered with some on the east-coast (US) just north of New York City, another part had gathered on the west-coast in San Diego. Through Skype, we had a nice, long face-to-face, coast-to-coast chat individually and in groups.

Then it happened.

The 7.2 quake hit Baja California and rolled their section of San Diego while we watched.

It was a silent rolling, unlike the rumble-and-shake we east-coast folk see in the movies. Those on the west-coast struggled to convince us that there really WAS an earthquake going on.

Why?

My younger brother is a practical joker, and he's mastered how to do it with such a straight face he has pulled the wool over our eyes many times. When he reported, "We're having a quake right NOW!" none on the east-coast believed him.

All through the long interval where the earthquake continued to roll and sway their home, we kept arguing from the safe distance that he was "just trying to trick us again.

For those that do not know it, there is a story where a bored boy shepherd keeps running to the local town and cries out there is a wolf attacking the sheep. After one too many times of falling for his pranks, the town's folk no longer believe the lad. Then the wolf does come; he makes off with the sheep because the town's folk were convinced the true warning was another trick.

The very same thing happened to my brother yesterday.

It's not just a folk's tale.
There is a lesson there.
Never cry wolf!

- ESA

Innocence of Eggs (Story)

The fat hen opened one eye and glared at her husband, “What’s a-a-all that ru-ru-ruckus?” she clucked.

The rooster pulled his head out from under his wing and stretched his neck toward the wall. “I’ll g-g-go see,” he replied and fluffed his feathers against the cool desert night.

With a few awkward flaps, he crested the stone and mortar wall and looked down into the courtyard. “I-i-i-it looks as i-i-if they’re br-br-bringing a cr-cr-criminal to the high pr-pr-priest,” he reported to his wife.

Before he could turn around to return to their warm nest, the hen was beside him, feathers equally fluffed against the coolness.

“Th-th-the eggs!” the rooster reprimanded.

The hen shrugged and stretched her neck as far as it could go toward the gathering crowd. “I wa-wa-want to see this,” she hissed in reply.

The majority of the crowd moved into the building, but a number of people remained outside in the courtyard, building a charcoal fire to keep warm. While the gathering outside remained peacefully quiet, there was a rising ruckus within the building.

The rooster fluttered to an open window to witness the scene inside. The sounds of buffets and cries of “Prophesy!” drifted through the window where the cockerel sat, the glint of battle and bloodlust sparkling in his eyes.

At that moment, a woman left the building on some errand. Spotting the small group gathered near the fire, she eyed one of them closely and remarked, “You also were with Yeshua (Jesus) of Nazareth.”

The man shook his head vehemently, shrugging his head deeper into his head-cloth. “I neither know nor understand what you are saying,” he replied.

Seeing a seed of potential for more conflict and violence, the rooster alighted onto the courtyard wall and crowed, “His words are tr-tr-tr-tr-TRUE!”

The hen was shocked. She knew as well as her husband that those words were a lie. Could his desire for a fight drive him to this?

She kept silent, for she didn’t want the fight brought to her nest. What would her friends and neighbors say? No, it’s best to stay silent and let the fight go on elsewhere. She turned her attention back to the group around the fire.

The woman had now turned to the others around the fire; gesturing to the man she had spoken to and said, “This is one of them.”

Again, the man denied it.

By now the rooster was hopping from foot to foot; a wicked gleam in his eyes as he watched the scene unfold below.

One of the others turned toward the man and added, “Surely you are one of them, for you are also a Galilean.”

The accused man began to curse and swear at the others gathered around the fire. “I do NOT know this man you are talking about!” he shouted at them.

With glee, the rooster tossed up his head and crowed again, “His words are tr-tr-tr-tr-TRUE!”

And the hen remained silent.

Upon hearing the rooster’s crow a second time, the man paused as if poleaxed and then broke down and wept, fleeing from the courtyard in tears.

The rooster and hen did not see what became of that man, nor of any of the others gathered around the fire, nor of those still inside the building. For at that moment, an angel of the Lord wrapped in the brilliance of Heaven appeared before them both.

Turning wrathful eyes to the rooster, the angel proclaimed, “Because you have crowed such blasphemy not once, but twice, you shall not live to see another sunrise.”

Then the angel’s glare fixed upon the hen. “Because you knew his words were false and you did NOTHING and said NOTHING, you shall also never see another morning.”

In her horror, the hen finally remembered her nest of eggs cooling in the night air. “I-i-i-if I go, wh-wh-who will ca-ca-care for our ch-ch-chicks? Wi-wi-without one of us he-he-here, how wi-wi-will they sur-sur-survive?”

The angel’s eyes moved to where the nest lay at the foot of the courtyard wall, and the wrath in those eyes became tempered with mercy. “Your chicks are innocent of these crimes. The children should not bear the burden of the sins of the parent. So I will take these with me and they will be kept safe.”

With these words, the angel gathered up the eggs, nest and all and vanished. Where they went, neither hen nor rooster knew, for they did not see the next sunrise.

But we know what became of those eggs.

For you see, on the very next Sunday morning, a very special Man walked out of a lonely tomb into the rosy light just before sunrise.

Nearby, a rabbit was nibbling quietly on some greens. This rabbit paused and shyly approached this Man. The fact that the feet of this Man had holes, as did the hands that lovingly petting it, did not disturb this rabbit at all.

The Man smiled and said to the rabbit, “Because you are the very first of My Father’s creatures to greet me this day, I have a very special task I will ask of you."

As the Man straightened, an angel appeared at His side. In his hands, the angel held the nest full of eggs, but this time additional branches had been added to the nest, woven in an arc over it. This handle enabled one to carry the nest as a basket, gently keeping the eggs safe.

The Man took the basket and handed it to the rabbit saying, “The world is full of children as innocent as these eggs. I ask that you bring these eggs to the children everywhere. Do this every year, in memory of this morning.

"In their joy of innocence, they know Me. But as their innocence fades, they must strive to seek Me, for the world will try to hide Me from their eyes. So you must hide the eggs so the children must seek them. Perhaps in this way, when their innocence fades, they will remember these mornings and seek me with the same enthusiasm and joy in their hearts. Do this in memory of Me.”

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The above story is free for all to copy/share, provided you do not make any profit from it nor change it in any way.

- ESA