Thursday, April 30, 2009

Little Flame (Poem)

I have a little flame
At the center of my heart
I know how it got there
God was the very start
+ + +
One little flame
In a vast dark place
One little smile
That won't be displaced
+ + +
Light a flame beside me
Hence there are two
It's now a little brighter
We know what to do
+ + +
It could be a smile
Or a helping hand
All the different ways
As countless as sand
+ + +
Pass on a kindness
Or uplifting word
Light another flame
Against this dark world
+ + +
Like little ripples
On the surface of a pond
Little flames alight
When the heart is fond
+ + +
Ever-widening circles
Spread the Light and Love
As our little flames
Reflect the One Above
+ + +
Further and further
Light this shining ball!
One little flame
Can encompass us all
+ + +
When the darkness comes
To blow our flames out
There is one thing that
It hasn't figured out
+ + +
Within each heart
A little flame is found
And with a some effort
We can send it back around!


- ESA
PS: Feel free to copy, repost or share freely, provided you do not receive funds in doing so.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Inner Song

In days before Twitter
before 3G technology
before YouTube
before iPods
before DVD's
before cell phones
before CD's
before Bulletin Boards
before the Internet
before PC's
before satellite dishes
before VHS (and Beta)
before cordless phones
before cassette tapes
before cable TV
before pushbutton phones
before 45's and LP's
before color television
before television
before records (78's et al.)
before radio
before telephones....

In a time before all the distractions we've inundated ourselves with, there was a time when one could sit for a moment and listen to the silence. But in that silence, there was a song - a melody with a message that arose from within our hearts.

That song is still within us, but with all the constant and ever-increasing diversions with which we surround ourselves, we no longer hear it; nor do we take the time to listen.

When our world (personal or global) is in chaos, what do we do? Do we continue to turn to the conundrum and try to find one message that answers "What do I do?" Or do we finally break from the noise and listen to the song within each and everyone of us?

There are a few letters that people have passed around and posted (google "Jesus Letter"); one of my favorites is "Love Letter from Jesus" (or similar) within which is this passage:

"Do not be concerned with yourself.
You are My responsibility.
...
but not when you are trying.
I won't fight your efforts."

I find this to be very true, in my life and in the lives of others. If we listen to the song - the Word sung within our heart - He guides us. But when we are headstrong and seize control of our lives, He will not fight us but will stand by our side as we fumble, waiting for us to take the time and listen.

As adults, we learned to take control of our own lives. Very few have placed their complete trust in God and said, "OK - lead me. Where are we going?"

It's hard - very, very difficult, in fact -- but still possible.

How many of us choose to dance to the song found in our hearts instead of the one playing on the multimedia equipment we possess?

Only when things are out of control do we turn to God, when our world is chaos and we can no longer dance to the broken songs outside ourselves no matter how hard we try.

And sadly, more often than not, when we allow God to help us back to our feet, we take back control over our lives, forgetting the guidance that still sings within our hearts and dance again to the beat of another.

Take a moment -- today, tomorrow, each day -- to just pause and listen to the song within your heart. It's there day and night. What does it sing to you? Try to dance to that beat. Even if it's only a few steps, it's a start. And little steps lead to bigger ones.

I'm not saying cut yourself from the world (I'm not, obviously). But allocate some quiet time to listen within the silence to a song sung through the millennia into humanity's hearts, but is currently overwhelmed.

Be Still
Listen
Hear
.... and Dance!

- ESA

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Panic-->Positive Thought

I believe I'm safe in assuming that many others are blogging about the swine flu over the last few days, so I thought to throw my own voice into the communal conundrum, hopefully as a little light of hope.

Whether or not the swine flu will evolve into a global pandemic I cannot say.

But before people start to panic, start fist fights at the stores over supplies or go deep into the bunker mentality, I'd like to propose a few simple things that are much simpler and cost effective:

  • Wash your hands - before eating, after using the rest room, after shaking hands, before touching your face, after wiping a child's nose, after blowing your own nose, etc. Simple soap and water can go a long way. Wash front and back of your hands and rinse under running water with your fingers pointing downwards so it doesn't wash onto your wrists/arms.
  • Use tissues - sneeze or cough into a tissue and dispose of it right away; use a tissue for the toilet handle, restroom knobs/latches, or other areas where germs are high. If you must sneeze and there are no tissues around, sneeze or cough into the crook of your elbow or on the upper portion of your sleeve. If you sneeze or cough into your hands, wash them right away. But certainly cover your mouth and nose when you cough and sneeze.
  • Clean doorknobs, phone headsets / handsets, keyboards, mice and other equipment that are used by multiple people or when you become ill.
  • Use your hands to touch paperwork, shake hands, etc. unless you know for certain the person is ill or if required by local mandate. Then gloves would be recommended. We still need the human touch, don't be afraid of it. If you ARE sick, politely decline handshakes until you are well again.
  • If you are sick, stay home. Otherwise, it will not only help spread what you have but it will also make your co-workers edgy and distracted at the workplace. If possible, make arrangements to work from home or on a different schedule when you are sick and cannot afford to be out.
  • Keep informed and know from where you are getting the information. Does the person have authority or experience in the subject or are they just voicing their concerns, opinions or dismissal of what's happening? (If you're wondering, the information here is a compilation from CDC and other government sources that I've prepared to present to the company President and employees where I work).
  • Does your company have any emergency or contingency plans in place? Before you say "No" or "Of course not" check with Human Resources or the President (or similar). Many organizations have been working on these plans a little more ethusiatically since Katrina.
  • Does your community have a plan? Find out.

If you decide to take away only one thing from this post today, I would say forget everything else above and keep this one: THINK POSITIVE.

There is far more that positive thought can achieve than most people realize. Cancer patients and those who are seriously ill or hurt that have the "I will get through this" attititude, do! Those who think the worst and let the fear rise up and occupy their thoughts and conversations, fall. The same can and does apply to almost anything we encounter in this world.

Granted thinking "Your not going to hit this beach" at a tidal wave before you may not work. But then again, Someone once said that "If you tell a mountain to move and believe it will, the mountain will move." Human beings have been known to do the "impossible" time and again. Faith that we can do things often brings the impossible to the reality of the possible. If too many people believe -- sincerely believe -- this swine flu will bring humanity to its knees and end civilization, this very fear CAN become reality!

That's why I stress the need for Positive Thought. Do not just go around thinking "we'll get through this" but BELIEVE it, in your heart as well as your head. We can make a difference. If we believe, it too can become reality.

Believe.
Pass the tissues.
And God Bless You!

- ESA

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Sing A Song (Video)

Both Sesame Street and I celebrate 40 years this year. This is a song originally broadcast on that show, and I've sung it practically my whole life. Enjoy!

Song: Sing (Sing a Song) - The Carpenters

Images: My pictures from FurFright 2008 (with date stamp); otherwise from Photobucket

All rights are retained by their respective artists. I do not receive any money for this; it is simply a work of my heart.




- ESA

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Lion and the Little Mouse (Radio Play Version)

A friend asked that I send him a shorter version of a story for a YouTube video. Here's my attempt to rewrite my earlier story.

_______________________________________

Lion and the Little Mouse
(Radio Play Version)
© 2009

NARRATOR: One day a little mouse scurried through the tall autumn grass and found herself nose to nose with a sleeping lion.

LITTLE MOUSE: Oh! (as a squeak)

LION: [big yawn] Oh, what have we here?

LITTLE MOUSE: I-I'm sorry, Your Great Majesty, for disturbing your rest.

LION: Don't be afraid. What brings such a little mouse so far from her home?

LITTLE MOUSE: Oh, please, Your Majesty! I was preparing for the winter. Please just let me go and I'll be on my way. I did not wish to disturb you.

LION: Ah! But now I’m awake and I will help you.

LITTLE MOUSE: You?!? Why would the King of all the Animals want to help a little mouse like me?

LION: There may be a day when I need your help.

LITTLE MOUSE: If there is ever a time when you need my help, I am willing to do so. But you do not need to help me now, Noble Lion.

LION: Even if you believe that now, I will help you. It will make your quest easier and you will be ready for the winter. Here, I will lift you up high so you can reach what you need.

LITTLE MOUSE: Thank you, kind lion.

NARRATOR: Some days later, the lion wandered into a construction site; it was evening and abandoned by the workers for the day. There his great forepaw came down on a small steel roofing nail. The more he tried to work it out, the deeper it bit into his paw.

LION: [roar of pain]

NARRATOR: All the animals heard and ran, scampered and trotted toward the sound. But each and every one stopped at the edge of construction site.

LION: Please, help me! The nail has bitten deep into my paw; I cannot walk!

LITTLE MOUSE: Can't you see he's in pain? Why does no one help him?

PANTHER: Foolish little mouse! That's man's world. If that lion decided to enter there, he's on his own. We will not risk own hides to help him.

LITTLE MOUSE: How can you say that? Isn't he your King as well as mine? I don't care where he is, I'll go over there and help him. [sounds of scampering and panting from long run] I’m here, Noble Lion.

LION: Why is it only you come to my aide?

LITTLE MOUSE: They're afraid. I-I'm a bit frightened too, but I remembered my promise to you. I'll help if I can. But I'm so little I don't know if I can.

LION: Yes, you can help, little friend. See here; there is a nail in my forepaw and it hurts something fierce.

LITTLE MOUSE: It's such a little nail. It's actually a bit smaller than I am. I’ll try to pull it out with my forepaws. [sounds of effort]

LION: [Hiss of pain, then great sigh of relief] That is much better. You have done me a great service, little friend; I thank you.

LITTLE MOUSE: But what I did was such a small thing.

LION: Still, you have helped me where no one else would. Get up on my back and I’ll carry you home in a triumphant procession before all the animals.

LITTLE MOUSE: No thank you. I help you out of friendship, not for a reward. I'm just a little mouse, shy like all my kind.

LION: If you are certain, so shall it be, my little friend. I shall not forget this, even if everyone else does. Call on me if you ever need help again.

LITTLE MOUSE: Thank you, friend Lion. And if I can ever help you again, don't hesitate to call on me.

NARRATOR: And they were good friends ever since.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- ESA

This Little Light

In my fortune cookie today, my fortune read "Your individuality provides a light for others." I was originally going to type, "Let that light shine!" and just post the lyrics to "This Little Light of Mine." But I think there is something else to be said here.

While individuality can provide a light for others, it is also individuals who can take the feeble light they find in others and help that person's light shine as well. While the call of the spotlight is strong, it is oft the nobler act to take another's hand, and raise their light up, letting that light shine supported by the strength of your own light.

Look around you today. Who around you, in real life or online, has a wonderful message? Did you take that message, add your light to it and hold it up as your own? Or did you take the person who had that message and hold up that person to shine supported by the strength of your own light?

Or did you smile, acknowledge within your own head and heart that the message was good and simply walk away, taking your light away, leaving the other light to flicker and go out when buffeted by the wind?

It's true, we all have a little light to shine. But instead of holding up our own light, let us hold up the light of others. In doing so, our own becomes part of an even Greater Light. Without this Light, none of us would have the little light we do. And in the act of holding another's light up, our own light is supported by the Greater Light.

Forget my own little light, let the Greater Light shine!!!!

- ESA

Friday, April 24, 2009

Virtual Prayer Groups

The radio station I listen to via the internet (WGTS) has this prayer group that meets once per week and prays for the petitions that people send in. Since I live and work a 7-hour drive from the station (one-way!), I contacted the radio station and asked if I could join them "virtually."

The response was, "That is so interesting, to have a virtual prayer team as well with those who join us!! We have just started this ministry and would love to do this in the future. Please check back with us in a few months and this is something we'll be working towards in the future. Thank you so much for your willingness to help!"

While I wait, planning to follow up later, I thought to post something here and maybe encourage others as well.

It may seem that virtual prayer groups are something new, but there were many times in this world’s history where families, friends or even whole communities would pray together when they were apart. For example, in a time before cell phones or even landline phones, when people crossed the ocean on ships instead of planes, they would still unite in virtual prayer. They would pick a certain time of day when the people who stayed home would pray or read from the bible, and those traveling would do so at the same time. In this way the family / friends / community would still pray together, even though they were physically apart.

During Lent, my husband requested that we read the New Testament together every night. However, when I travel on business, I'm not home every night. Some nights we read together using my cell phone. But on two separate occasions, the only time I had available to read was while I was flying; cell phones aren't permitted. So we chose a time and both read during that designated half hour – together, even though we were physically apart.

When Christ told us that when two or more get together in His name, there He would be in our midst, He did not specify that we needed to be in the same room or even the same building, town, state or country. That stipulation was only added by our interpretation / understanding of what "together" means. As God is Omnipresent, when people gather together virtually, there is no question that He can still be in our midst when we are together, even though we are physically apart.

So if you believe that you can not join a prayer group – any type of prayer group – because you cannot be there physically, think again. You do not need to be physically present, connected by phone or internet (though that's getting easier with technology), but only need to be there in Spirit and intent. Our only limitation is what we place on our belief and faith. We can truly be together in heart, even though we are physically apart.

Believe.

- ESA

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Legend and Lessons

I have a feeling someone left me a message where I would find it. Said message read,

You can not be selfish and save all from the darkness,
As saving one from the darkness into the Light of God....
One is taken by the darkness
Because of the balance of the universe and life

There can not be love without hate
Light without darkness
Heaven without hell...
As the universe depends on the eternal balance


For those who wonder where such words can flow, they are from the movie "Legend." While they sound wise, one must also acknowledge they are being said by a devil / demon while he is in a desperate moment... His nails were dug deep - sparks eminating from the stone - as he was thrust back, back into the darkness into which he had been banashed by the Light. Evidently, this character did not want to go there and would do anything - say anything - to get another chacter --- a human character, Jack -- to help him so he would not have to return to that cold darkness away from the Light.

It saddens me that one would listen to those words spoken by that character and thow it in my face as truth. It's not truth. Not at all. All things are possible with God. If anything, we're unballanced as we are not where we are meant to be. But the more we reach that point of growing in the right direction, the darkness will redouble it's efforts and try to drag us back into the darkness.

I have to wonder when I recall the story of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. Humanity allegedly had eaten from the Tree of Knowlege; why then do we seem to be so blind to the truth? Why do we not see the lies AS lies?

In simple truth, when one moves towards God there is NO requirement for another to move toward darkness. But the darkness wants us to think there is. When more and more move toward God there is harmony and Love, not unballance. When we move toward God we move into Light and Love and our eyes are washed so we can see past these petulant little lies to the Truth.

The darkness will do its best to influence us in many different ways, but it's sphere of control is starting to shrink even as it creates the illusion that it's growing. Those the darkness attracts, seek to better themselves, in this does the darkness fall for without the unity and harmony and Love found in the Light, those in darkness will scatter and fall as chaff in the winds of change.

- ESA

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Twitterpated!

A friend of mine invited me to join Twitter. Like countless others, great and small, I did. In fact, I just posted a "tweet" (if that's the correct word) that I'm writing today's blog.

I also took my YouTube account (http://www.youtube.com/user/2008HLS) out of hiatus yesterday and started responding to all the PM's (personal messages) that arrived over the past week.

So now with FaceBook, YouTube, two blogs, and Twitter, I'm definately distracted from doing the work I should be doing. It makes me wonder if this is good or bad. I certainly cannot help thinking about a story I wrote last fall, The Ant and the Grasshopper.

In Disney's Bambi there was a term, "Twitterpated," which was essentially to mean "distracted to the point where the person doesn't see or hear what else is right there in front of them." It can be the result of a spring day or being newly in love. Of late, most of the world seems "Twitterpated" by all the different ways we now connect online, including "Twitter."

I really need to unplug from the internet and allocate some time back to what is really important in life - family, neighbors, friends - instead of perpetually being online and seeking more and more contacts worldwide. While this in itself isn't bad, it is bad when it's the only thing at the sacrifice of other relationships.

- ESA

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

April Showers (Poem)

Another April Shower

The pitter-patter on and off for days

Drags down my spirit

With its gray but life-giving ways













Even though the sun does hide
And I continue to drag my feet
There is one truth I know
That makes it so complete


If it was just sunshine
With no rain or snow
We would never be blessed
With the promise of a rainbow


For it takes both the rain
And a little bit of sun
To make a beautiful arc of color
When the two become one


So when the thunder rumbles

And darkens your life's smile

Into everyone's life, rain must fall

To shine forth a promise in a short while
































- ESA

Monday, April 20, 2009

A Little Prayer I Share (Poem)

This is just a little prayer I learned when I was an adult and pass on to my neices and nephews once they reach a certain age.

Thank You for this life
And the chance to live it well.
Help me to get to Heaven
And guide others there as well.
Please fill me with Your Light,
Your Love and Wisdom too
So others may see Your Wonders
In everything I do.

- ESA

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Everyday Heros

On the news this evening they convered the continuing story about the sea captain who was captured by pirates off the coast of Somolia. The spokesperson added: when that captain left home to go on this job, he was just an ordinary guy, but he came home a national hero - showing us that anybody ordinary has the potential to become extraordinary.

While it's very true that each and everyone of us has the potential to do something or be someone extraordinary, being a hero doesn't require being extraordinary, doing great deeds or showing uncommon valor.

Being a hero means simply placing someone else's needs above your own. It can can be for a whole crew, a nation, your town, or simply a child or animal who is in need of something you can provide.

Every day there are thousands of unsung heros, ones that take the time and initiative to brighten someone else's day. They volunteer their time to some cause, or simply help an elderly neighbor with the shopping or snow removal. They take time to help a child with homework or learn a new hobby. They take extra time to play a game of fetch or chase the string with a pet.

Everyday heros are sometimes part of a larger movement, but often they work in small, simple ways, often unnoticed by the people around them, let alone the media or the world.
It can even be something as simple as passing on a smile to a stranger on the street.

Each of us should strive to be everyday hero. When our life is through and we look back upon what we have done, very likely we'll see that at least one of those times we only did "a little something" that what we did mattered a lot to someone who needed our help. And it's these "little something" efforts that makes this world a much better place to live.

- ESA

Friday, April 17, 2009

Dollar Donation Does It

Skimming the headlines today, this article (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30252318/) titled "Mystery donors give $45 million to colleges" caught my eye. At first I was as impressed that so much was given anonymously, and I also questioned "where did that money come from?" It seems like the money is honest and that is quite an impression donation - moreso if it's just one person instead of a group or company. No one knows except the lawyers who represent this donor.

But then I got to thinking.... While my husband has been out of work for a while and I don't earn that much, we still donate where and when we can -- a dollar here, a dollar there. But compared to $45 million, what does a mere dollar do?

But if 45 million people contributed just one dollar - and there's far more than that in this world - collectively we can do quite a lot with just one little dollar. Many charities are feeling the pinch as much, if not more than, everyone affected by today's economy. But if enough people could donate just a little - a dollar donation does it - collectively we can help those in even greater needs than ourselves.

- ESA

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Signs of Spring

Last evening, I actually got out of work before sunset for the first time in a long time. So my husband and I walked the two-and-a-half miles round trip to the supermarket in the cool but sunny New England late afternoon. As we crossed the broad expanse of parking lot, we faced the setting sun and had a spectacular view of twin rainbows on either side of the sun. They were just small striped Stradivarius clouds, but they made it appear like multicolored sideburns.

On the way home (when the sun wasn't in our eyes), we could see that the first signs of tree buds were starting to finally emerge around us (Southern New England). Flowers have been pushing up from the soil for the past three weeks, but the trees seemed to be half-asleep this year. My husband pointed out that it doesn't feel like Spring where Mother Nature just explodes with life, color and scents all around. Instead it's like Ma Nature is dragging herself from a restless winter's sleep and really doesn't have her heart in it this year.

One thing that crossed my mind early this morning was if nature is affected by people's emotions. I've read several reports that argue plants can recieve impressions from people as well as from other plant life. With the global recession, fears of the future and overall unease in people today, can we actually be affecting the plant life around us collectively? It's an interesting thought.

But if it IS true. I wonder if people went around purposely being happy as they strolled down the sidewalks and through parks, would the trees start to sprout with their own signs of life and vitality.

It's already been shown that a nice day does brighten our own outlook. Maybe our outlook can help brighten the day.

- ESA

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Random Acts of Care

One of the stories my father told me, and I included in his eulogy years later, was one of caring for our fellow human beings. He was driving along this road late one night and saw someone parked on the shoulder with a flat tire, struggling to change it. As this was well before cell phones, and in a place where it may be hours before a police cruiser passed, my father stopped to help him. It was evident from the start, the man did not know what he was doing, so my father took the tire iron and changed the tire for him. When the man took out his wallet and tried to pay for the job, my father refused the money and, instead, told him this. "You know how you can repay me? Next time you see someone in need where you can do something, help them. If they offer you payment, tell them to pass on the act as payment in full."

While skimming through the headlines this morning, all sorts of horrors were reported, from the Taliban killing a young engaged couple to a 13-year old being accused of theft in Illinois. But then one link caught my eye and I read it through (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30092624/).

In this story, a team of Wyoming snow plows escorted a gentlemen through a blizzard with white-out conditions to the hospital 250 miles from his home so he could receive a long-awaited transplant. I think it wasn't so much the fact that this man finally received his transplant as the fact that several others (a 911-dispatcher, a police officer, and a WDOT boss) took it upon themselves to steer away from their job's official procedure and choose to do what they could to help a fellow human being. In today's economy, jobs are getting scarce. I can easily envision a WDOT accountant complaining that the State shouldn't have wasted the money on a convoy of plows for one man. Sadly, any of those people who helped may have jeopardized their job, and even their family's welfare, in doing so. But they did it anyway.

Too many times in our lives, we just follow the procedures. We move like sheep following one shepherd or another, but rarely the One in our hearts whose only request was to love one another. With that loving flows the incentive to help one another, reaching out to others who may not be part one group or another we proclaim ourselves to be members of, but out to another human being who shares this small blue planet with us.

I'm certain if I hunted for them, I could find other news stories like these. But I think most "good deeds" go unrecorded, best paid if we return to the favor to a fellow human being in need.

- ESA

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Tempered by Fire (Story)

One of the DJ's at WGTS just shared this wonderful story.

A firefighter was going through a house that was completely destroyed by fire. Sifting through the warm ash, his fingers found these white ceramic pieces. All it took was lightly dusting the ash from them, and the pieces shown bright and beautiful, practically the same as the day they arrived at the house. Everything else was gone.

Later, when that firefighter spoke with friends who were going through a very period in their life, he pulled a white ceramic piece from his pocket and explained how he came to find it. Holding it up, he explained, "This was tempered in fire before it was ever brought into that house. While everything else in that house was destroyed by that terrible fire, these pieces survived. If they hadn't gone through the fire first, they would have been destroyed."

Sometimes we need to go through one fire to become strong enough for even greater challenges in life that would otherwise destroy us completely.

- ESA

Crossing Bridges

Last night, I took down one of my YouTube accounts and prepared the other for a long hiatus. I've also closed my DailyMotion account. It's hard leaving that behind and untouched as I would check on them several times a day. (This is why I avoid Twittering. :D )

I'll try to write a little something here each day as well as continue to add stories to my other blog.

My feet reach the last boards, the hollow thumping has now become a firm thud of supported surface. I turn and glance over my shoulder, seeing the place I have just departed. I've closed all avenues between there and here, except for the bridge I just crossed. Shall I burn it completely too, or do I leave this one span open in case someone wants to find me? There were many good memories from that last place, some even connecting to far older memories that have long since been cut from the tapestry of my life, only to be stiched back in, creating a patern anew.

I step off the bridge and face the path before me, head held up and heart ready for what awaits me in the future. May God guide me on this new path as well.

Time to move on.

- ESA

Monday, April 13, 2009

Time for a change

Blogging isn't as easy for me as writing in my journal or crafting short stores. Perhaps when I get more comfortable with this medium, it will be easier to post things close to my heart.

I also have been making videos and posting them on YouTube and DailyMotion for the past year. While that was a fun medium, my love is and will always be words. As YouTube is now deleting videos upon WMG's request, I believe it's time to move on and try a different medium.

*Steps up to the microphone*
Tap, Tap, Tap
"Uh, is this thing on?"
Silence......
"I just wanted to say, 'hi'."
Silence......
"Thanks for listening."
Silence......
*Looks out past the glare of the spotlights into the darkened auditorium known as the world wide web and squints trying to see what is out there and what the reactions of the next few posts will bring.*
Silence......
"Bye for now."
*Walks off stage, leaving the mic behind to pick up fading footsteps.

We'll see what the future holds on this site. :)

Thanks for reading.

-ESA

Friday, April 10, 2009

Awaiting His Return (Story)

© 2009

Amit was jostled by the crowds near the city gate. Short for her seven years of age, she couldn’t see what the commotion was about, but her young ears caught the exclamation, “He’s returned! Rabbi Yeshua (Jesus) has returned to Jerusalem!” Her heart leapt in joy. He came back! She vividly remembered the last time she saw him; the gentle voice and smile that lit up his eyes as he told stories to the children.

Squirming her way through the myriad thicket of legs, she dodged her way through the crowd, toward home. Dashing headlong across the small courtyard, she threw all her weight against the heavy wooden door to open it, stumbling into the cool dark interior. Rushing to the hearth where two small bread loaves cooled from the morning’s baking, she carefully wrapped the better of the pair in a clean cloth. Cradling the still-warm loaf, she stepped out of the two-room home into the bright desert sunlight, pulling the door closed behind her.

She ran through Jerusalem’s narrow streets back to the gate, but the crowd was gone, leaving only dust motes sparkling in the sunlight. With a rising panic, she glanced around and discovered a path of palm branches strewn in the street, clearly indicating the procession’s direction. Green branches crunched under her worn leather sandals as she panted up that street. The scent of newly cut palms rose from the dust, mingling with the scents of humanity and animals common to the city of her birth.

When she finally caught up with them, Yeshua was dismounting the young donkey he rode into the city, and a great crowd of followers and curious onlookers gathered. Using her small stature to advantage, she clutched the loaf close to her heart and ducked between the people, pushing her way to the front where he stood. When one of his followers stopped her, Yeshua spied her and said she could come forward. With reverence and the unconscious grace only the young can exhibit, she approached smiling and held out her gift. “Here, Rabbi, it’s the first I’ve ever made!”

The cloth was now dusty from its journey, but warm to his fingertips as he accepted it; the aroma of fresh baked bread drifted out from the folds to greet his nose. He smiled kindly with twinkling eyes and lowered himself on one knee, meeting her gaze levelly. “Thank you, Amit.”

“I’m glad you came back, Rabbi Yeshua. I knew you would return to Jerusalem.”

His smile broadened and he placed his hand lovingly on her slim shoulder. “I tell you this, child. I will always return to those who believe.”

She grinned back and replied, “Thank you, Rabbi.” She bestowed a kiss on his bearded cheek and then simply turned and pushed her way back through the crowd towards her awaiting chores.

The following days passed in bliss; she rushed through chores as her parents attended Yeshua’s teachings. Then she gathered with the other children to hear wondrous stories. At night, her family listened as their father recounted Yeshua’s teachings.

Four days after the memorable entrance, she helped her mother clean and prepare their home for the Pesach (Passover). She loved this holiday and even helped with the matzoh and Seder Plate for that first night. Her father read from the Haggadah (Exodus) and asked the youngest child the traditional questions, starting with “Why is this night different?” The family prayed together and sang the familiar songs, eating with the dishes reserved for this special holiday. While she hunted for the Afikomen with her younger siblings, Amit wondered where Yeshua celebrated the Seder that night, and how long he would be in Jerusalem.

The next day arrived with a tumult in the streets. Her father departed early and returned quickly, demanding that she stay home with her siblings. “Do not even venture beyond our gate, Amit,” he admonished, knowing her tendency to be headstrong.

“Honor your father’s wishes, Amit,” her mother added as she draped her head-covering over her head and shoulders, following her husband down the street.

With her mother gone, she drew the water, tended the fire, baked the matzoh, ground the grain into flour, and other household tasks she could do. Her curiosity grew as the hours passed. At one point, she heard a great crowd moving through the city. Laboring to get the ladder against their home, she clambered onto the rooftop. But the crowd was too distant to see anything of interest as it traveled down the hill and out the gate. The girl sighed disappointed and returned to her chores.

Three hours later, she shivered and looked up from the small grinder in her lap. The sky had grown ominously dark, moreso because sunset was three hours away. Fearing a storm, she told her siblings to shutter the windows. She also prayed to God that if the storm was bad, her parents would find shelter; they were away a long time.

Gathering the grinder and bowls with wheat kernels and flour, she started across the courtyard. But before she reached the doorway, the ground violently shook, throwing her to her knees; bowls and grinder clattered to the ground, spilling her day’s work. Heedless of the loss, she shouted to her siblings above the unknown roar and frightening shifting and explosions of stone and mortar from the surrounding buildings as though she suddenly found herself beneath a giant’s grinding stone. Hearing dismayed cries, she pulled herself to her feet and stumbled over heaving ground to the doorframe, bracing herself there. Her two siblings inside clung to each other, crying with wide, terrified eyes. Maintaining her grip on the doorpost just below the Mezuzah, Amit threw an outstretched hand toward them and grabbed a sleeve, yanking the pair through the door with a strength she did not know she possessed.

As the three tumbled to the ground, the earthquake ended as abruptly as it started. An eerie silence surrounded them; their coughing exceedingly loud in the air thick with dust under a dark, ominous sky. As the event began to register in her seven-year-old mind, she clung to her siblings and wept with them. Not long after, their parents scrambled up the rubble-strewn street, entering their courtyard. Relieved to find their children alive and their home relatively intact, both parents clutched their offspring to their breasts, thanking God.

After a while, Amit found her voice and asked, “What happened, Abba?”

Her father gently grasped her hands, meeting her curious gaze. “Today they crucified Rabbi Yeshua.”

She stood there, shaking her head wordlessly; silent tears streamed down her dusty cheeks. She mouthed the words “No” and “Why” but no sound escaped past the lump in her throat. He embraced her, stroking her hair as the words sank in. After a few moments, she snuffled and pulled her head back, asking, “But Rabbi Yeshua will return, won’t he?”

He gently shook his head, tears welling in his own eyes. “He’s gone, child. He died today.”

“But… But he said he’ll always return to those who believe…. He said so….” The last words were a whisper fading into the dusty silence. He tried to draw his distraught daughter back into his embrace, but she was pulled away. With all the determination she could muster, she marched to the side of their home and uprighted the fallen ladder, climbing back onto the rooftop.

Shaking his head, he mounted the ladder and poked his head above the roofline. The child stared toward the city gate through which Yeshua was escorted to Golgotha. Evening fell early under the dark sky, but there was an inner light shining in his young daughter’s eyes. He gently asked, “What are you looking for, Amit?”

“I’m watching for Rabbi Yeshua’s return, Abba.” she quietly replied.

Tears rolled over his cheeks into his beard as he climbed onto the rooftop, standing beside her. Wordlessly, he placed his hand on her slim shoulder, watching with her as the environs slowly grew darker. Sunset approached; it was time for his wife to light the candles and for them to recite the Kiddush. He helped his daughter down from the roof and inside.

All through the Shabbat (Sabbath), Amit was quieter than usual, much quieter. She was deep in thought with a determined look that never left her features. When the first three stars appeared that evening, she approached her father, “Rabbi Yeshua has been gone for over a day now,” she started matter-of-factly. “He’ll be hungry. Let’s prepare some food we can leave out for him to eat when he returns.” Her mother was about to countermand her wishes, but her father solemnly nodded his assent. She practically skipped to the chicken coup in the courtyard, gathering the eggs to boil. As the hearth fire cooked the eggs and slowly heated the baking stones, she helped her mother prepare the matzoh and the evening’s meal.

A few hours later, Amit wrapped a warm shawl around her head and shoulders and gathered the basket containing a skin of wine, the hard-boiled eggs and matzoh. Her father held a lit lamp aloft, illuminating the dark road before them. While she had been out after dark before, for some unknown reason this night felt different, and her skin pimpled with a chill as the words of the first Pesach question echoed through her mind, *Why is this night different?* The familiar streets and known lamps in their stands, as well as the flickering light in the unshuttered windows and open doorways did not appear changed, but it felt as though she was seeing it all for the first time.

He escorted her down several streets; the aromas of the evening meals and fresh-baked matzoh filled the early night air, mingling with the scents of woodsmoke and heated lamp oil. Those scents faded as they exited through the city gates lit by smoking torches and made their way into a nearby garden. There he paused and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. “Child, I’m taking you to the place where they laid the body of Rabbi Yeshua after he died on the cross.”

She nodded gravely; her determination only growing stronger. So he gestured with the lamp which path they should take. In a quiet part of the garden, there was a freshly-hewn tomb with a large stone rolled before the entrance, sealing it shut. Two bored guards entertained themselves with a dice game under the light of fluttering torches on poles to one side.

Her father gestured for silence and took the basket from her, passing her the lamp while indicating that she should hide its flame. Hugging the ground, he slowly and carefully made his way along the rocky outcropping opposite where the guards sat. Still several feet from the tomb, he gently placed the basket in a nearby bush and quietly retreated to his daughter’s side. Firmly grasping her hand, he led her quickly away from the guards. When they were a safe distance, she returned the lamp and whispered, “Did you leave the basket where Rabbi Yeshua would find it, Abba?”

He smiled and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Child, if God in his wisdom led a serving woman to find the infant Moses in his basket among the river reeds, I’m certain God can help Rabbi Yeshua find that basket we left for him.”

She studied his face in the lamplight as they walked quickly. “You believe Rabbi Yeshua will return too, Abba.” It was not a question.

He paused and lowered himself to one knee, meeting her gaze levelly. “Amit, my daughter, I have heard of the many wonders Rabbi Yeshua has done. I believe he was, indeed, sent by God to our people. If he told you he’d return, perhaps… just perhaps he will. We shall see.” He stood upright, affectionately squeezed her hand in his and together they headed home in mutual peace and understanding through the night air filled with Pesach songs.

In the darkness before the dawn, someone gently touched Amit’s cheek, awakening her from a deep sleep. A soft voice whispered in her ear, “Be quiet, child, and come outside.” Careful not to disturb her siblings sleeping in the same bed beside her, she slipped out of the warm covers and shivered in the chill desert night air. Barefooted, she left the sleeping room and padded across the main room past the banked hearth fire and out the open door. Under a moon only days past its full face, Yeshua stood smiling at her as he stood there in brilliantly white robes. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and drew her unkempt hair away from her face. “Rabbi? Is that you?” she whispered.

His teeth showed clearly in his beard as he grinned broadly. “It is I, Amit,” he whispered back. He held out the empty basket. “Thank you for your gift.”

She accepted the basket and was about to reach up to bestow a kiss upon his cheek, but he stepped back. “Touch me not, child, for I have yet to go to my Father.”

She pouted. “You are leaving Jerusalem again?”

“For a time, but I will Return to those who believe. I will always return.” With another smile and a friendly wave, he passed through the courtyard gate.

Racing to the gateway, she looked up and down their street, but he was nowhere in sight. Closing the gate, she clutched the basket to her heart and told herself, “He’ll return someday, and I’ll be waiting.”

- ESA

Saturday, April 4, 2009

The Little Girl (Video)

This video was created for the song "The Little Girl" by John Michael Montgomery. Images are collected from Photobucket. All rights are retained by the respective artists. I do not, nor ever have, received funds for this. I produced this out of the Love in my heart.

- ESA