Eight Days (Story)

Written last year, here is a story that starts on Thanksgiving eve, when a winter storm likewise hit the Northeastern US.

~ ESA
_______________________________________________________________

EIGHT DAYS

The winds howled wordlessly outside. All the local trees had the last of their leaves torn mercilessly from the branches. Driving rain and heavy wet snow covered the northeast the day before Thanksgiving.

In the small riverside town of New Hope, PA, the residents feared the worst. The waters of the Delaware River rose alarmingly as the downpours continued. Some abandoned their holiday plans to move to higher grounds.

Up on the hill, a small Jewish synagogue prepared for both the storm and for the celebration. Wednesday night was not only the eve of Thanksgiving; it was the first night of Chanukah this year.

As the winds and blinding precipitation increased Wednesday morning, the lights around their small community were winking out, even before the full onset of daylight. Wednesday had become a dark day indeed.

The Rabbi of the local synagogue was a practical hands-on woman. She went out into the driving rain and started the generator. The lights in the little shul slowly blossomed into life again.

Shaking the rainwater from her hair as she stepped back inside, the Rabbi pulled out her cell phone, praying the reception from the cell tower would hold a while more.

"Hello?" the synagogue's Administrator answered.

The Rabbi identified herself and updated the Administrator on the situation. "The question in my mind," she added, "is how long do we have?"

"For lights, water pump, and minimal heat we have enough propane to last three days. Maybe less."

"Three days," the Rabbi signed, remembering Hurricane Sandy. "I pray this storm is not as bad."

"Will you cancel tonight's celebration?"

The Rabbi laughed at the challenge, "Of course not! This is Chanukah!"

The nor'easter continued through the day. While the winds died down in the evening, the widespread devastation in Eastern PA included their little town. Limbs were down everywhere. Power lines snaked across lawns and streets. Power was out and calls to PP&L discovered that the major trunk lines into the area were destroyed. New Hope, being a small tourist community, was nearly last on the recovery list.

The town needed to rely on its own resources for the next few days...

Being a hardy lot, the residents had weathered many snowstorms and outages before. Even if many of the roads were blocked, the residents came out on foot in droves Wednesday to assess the damage and to help each other.

By the afternoon, the Administrator had called the propane supplier in Harrisburg, PA. Then she called the Rabbi with the bad news. "With the roads into our town closed, they cannot get us anything. We were originally scheduled for a delivery Friday, but now it looks like it will be sometime next week."

The members of the synagogue helped each other to the little shul on the hill Wednesday evening, some even walking a mile or so through the last of the rain and blowing snow as the sun remained hidden behind darkened clouds.

At the end of the service, the Rabbi announced that the synagogue was ready to help any who needed a shelter. Even more, hot showers and hot meals would be provided.

The administrator approached the Rabbi with her brows drawn down in a worried scowl, "When I said three days, Rabbi, I meant heat, lights and water pump only. If we start to use the propane for hot water and cooking, we have less than a day's worth of propane! Our pipes will FREEZE! You know temps are predicted to plummet Thursday night!"

The Rabbi nodded. "That is EXACTLY why I opened the invitation. There are many in need. We should not turn them away."

The Administrator grumbled that there will be a price to pay, but the Rabbi caught her sleeve to grab her attention, "One more thing: Tell no one about the propane issue."

That night, seven families moved into the temporary shelter set up in the synagogue's community room. Hot soup, juice, coffee, tea and showers were made available. Even crayons and coloring pages were ready for the children.

The next day, the Rabbi got a call from the local Christian Church. They had fourteen families sheltering there, and their fuel tank was practically empty. "We have enough to cover Thanksgiving meals, but we'll be in the dark tonight. Can you help?" the minister asked the Rabbi.

"If we still have lights, send them up the hill," the Rabbi responded, wondering where they could get the fuel themselves. She sighed, "We will do what we can. All of us are in G-D's hands now."

The Christian Church's generator sputtered to an end around noon Thanksgiving Day. The church's volunteers served the community a hot dinner in a cooling room lit by candle light. With no generator to bring water up, they relied on portable toilets and paper plates. The kitchen pots and pans would just have to wait until there were resources to clean them.

Members of the Jewish community helped relocate the fourteen families from the church to the synagogue. An additional three families joined them as their gasoline generators died during the day. Twenty-four families crowded into the little shul's community room. Somehow, the water continued to flow, the heat, hot showers and hot food continued to be available, and the lights remained on.

The Rabbi wandered out to the generator just as the sun was making its final approach to the horizon. She rapped the propane tank with her knuckles near the bottom. It sounded sadly empty. She bowed her head in dismay. It was a matter of minutes now. There were no other shelters in the community with lights.

She wrapped her coat tightly around her as she walked back to the building. It was time to light the second candle on the Menorah.

By the morning, the Rabbi was dumbfounded; the generator continued to chug through the night. The smell of hot coffee and hot breakfast greeted her as she went through the community room, asking how everyone was doing.

She also made discrete inquires if anyone changed the tanks during the night. No one had. In fact, all were clearly unaware that there was no fuel.

She went outside and checked the tank. It was still the same tank, right down to the identifying number stamped on its side. She rapped it once again; it still sounded empty -- completely empty.

The temperature climbed from the freezing numbers through Friday. So the community got to work clearing the tree branches and shoving the dead power lines to the sides so they could travel the local roads.

Pick-up trucks ventured to the main roads into town. Some had huge swaths of limbs down as though a tornado or down draft plowed through the Deleware Water Gap's Forest. Others were washed away completely by the flash floods that ran down the steep hillsides. They were, indeed, cut off for some time to come.

The residents of New Hope took matters in stride.

As Friday evening's and Saturday's Shabbat ceremonies were held, a few new curious faces joined those in the synagogue.

While black-Friday shopping was a bust, most of Main Street was cleared by Saturday. Shop-keepers were still out of power and heat, but they used the natural light pouring in through the windows. Some even braved the elements and set out tables on the sidewalks to lure shoppers.

By Sunday, the world seemed to have forgotten their little town. PP&L still reported that they are doing their best to repair the trunk lines to get the power to their local substations. Penn-DOT reported that road clearing and repairs would begin on Monday.

Through all this time, the propane tank at the synagogue continued to supply the generator, heat, hot water and kitchen, defying all rational explanation. The Rabbi and Administrator kept this to themselves; they did not want to worry those sheltering there.

Sunday night, after lighting the fifth Menorah candle, those crowded into the little shul stared at each other as a loud reverberating noise filled the air. They gathered at windows and outside as a cacophony of roars grew in volume. Then over the mountain they saw the National Guard helicopters. With no place to land, they guided people to a location using spotlights. There they carefully lowered crates of supplies to the ground.

Food, bottled water, blankets, medical supplies... the volunteers quickly sorted through the contents in those crates. The Rabbi ran to one of the soldiers who was on the ground coordinating the supply drop. "What about propane? Any propane?"

"Sorry, ma'am," the uniformed guard shouted back over the roar of the hovering choppers. "Not this run. Maybe on the next trip. You should see the devastation. We've got towns cut off all over Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont have towns buried in snow."

The soldier studied the faces of the community, "Are there any evacuees? Anyone who needs medical attention outside your town?" The Rabbi shook her head, "As long as there is the insulin and the other medical supplies we asked for, we should be OK. What we really need is propane. I don't know how long we have before we get the power back."

The soldier nodded, "I'll relay your request, ma'am. It's a good thing you had full tanks when the storm hit."

The Rabbi shared a lopsided smile with the solider, and replied quietly, "The truth is we didn't; we only had enough for one day..."

Monday night, a new family showed up at the little shul. A few hisses and whispered comments were passed among those gathered when the family climbed out of the car. The mother and her two teenaged daughters were wearing hijabs.

Several members of the synagogue stormed through the Rabbi's office door. "We have a problem, Rabbi. There are those here that would rather stay at home and freeze than to shelter a Islamic family under our roof."

The Rabbi looked up from the pages she studied on the desk before her. "Are we not taught to help our neighbor?"

"But these are Muslims, Rabbi! They are not our People!"

"The Christians we brought under our roof are not Jews, yet we sheltered them."

"That is different. We have done a lot of work for our community with them. We know them. This family... is different; they are strangers. There is no mosque in New Hope! Let them go across the Delaware to find help. They are not welcome here."

The Rabbi closed the book on her desk and wordlessly met the eyes of each and every person gathered there.

Then she quietly responded, "We were strangers in Egypt. Yet Our G-D heard our cry and led us out of Egypt to Israel. This family is now crying to G-D. They are cold and hungry. When we were cold and hungry those 40 years in the desert, did G-D abandon us? No! G-D sent us food. Now we have a family whom G-D in His Wisdom has led here, with whom we can share G-D's Love and Providence."

One of the men growled through his beard, "Remember, Rabbi, you are an employee of this synagogue's counsel. If you push this upon the community, you will find yourself out of a job before the end of December!"

The Rabbi sat back, then resolve filled her heart and soul. "If that is what this synagogue community wants, then I will accept what G-D has in mind for my life." She gestured toward the propane tank visible through her window. "Do you see that tank?"

Those gathered were taken aback by the sudden change in topic. One of them inquired, "What about the tank?"

The Rabbi smiled a knowing smile. "We only had enough propane for one day."

She fell silent to let the meaning of the words sink in. That fuel had lasted for over six full days and still continued.

One of the women began to cry. One of the men hit his knees and began to pray. The others wordlessly shuffled out of the Rabbi's office and began to spread the news.

The Rabbi went outside to greet the newcomers personally, welcoming them to their little hilltop shul.

On Wednesday, Penn-DOT finally cleared one of the roads into town. The Administrator put in the call to the propane supplier; they would be there the next day.

As the final candle was lit on the Menorah that night, the generator outside sputtered and died. Those gathered in the synagogue blinked in the darkened room. Only the menorah provided light for the room, and those gathered gazed upon it in silence and wonder.

Then the lights came back on. Not from the generator; the main trunk lines into town had been restored, and the small town of New Hope, PA was back on the main grid.

The Rabbi walked toward the light switch as tears streamed down her cheeks. She snapped off the electric lights and in the soft glow of the lit Menorah, she began the ritual prayers.

Let We Forget...

This weekend, America celebrates Memorial Day.

While there is ever-increasing focus on the military, I'd like to take a moment to also note - and thank - others who give life and limb in a different line of service.

Firefighters

Both paid and volunteer firefighters are the primary responders to fires, accidents and many other calls, ranging from routine to bizarre.

They put their life on the line many times, from entering blazing buildings and forest fires, to working at roadway accidents on rainy nights, to entering icy waters.

In addition to helping fellow man, they are also called to rescue animals from family pets, to farm livestock, to a wide variety of wildlife.

Some leave loved ones in the middle of dinner or the dead of night to answer the call, and never come home again...

Police

Police officers and auxiliary volunteers, put themselves at risk, from high-speed chases and gunfire, to domestic fights and bomb responses, from mass evacuations to search and rescue.

Many officers are killed in line of action; some even when they simply walk to help a disabled motorist and are struck by a distracted driver.

EMT and Paramedics

These ambulance crews are mostly volunteers across this country, yet they put themselves at risk on a regular basis.

They race through traffic, where impatient drivers may ignore the siren and jump out into their way; they work roadside at accidents with cars whizzing past.

Many don't realize that these dedicated men and women also go into very dangerous situations, such as over the side of a cliff or into dangerous neighborhoods to help the fallen or sick.

I didn't realize the extent of danger until a New York City Paramedic friend walked up in bullet-proof vest. She told us that on many calls where someone was shot, the bullets are still flying when they arrive...

Rescue Workers and
First Responders

This includes those who go into dangerous situations immediately following a tornado, flood, hurricane, tsunami, earthquake or similar.

They brave churning waters, collapsing debris, open gas lines, and/or flames to help complete strangers. 

In times of emergency, often these people are NOT the trained emergency responders, but simply caring hearts who first arrive on the scene and realize that someone needs help! 

And the most important...

The Peacemakers and
Human Rights Activists 

These bold hearts who stand up for others, often those who cannot do so themselves. Some face ostracization, job loss and prison; some pay the full price with their lives.

Over these recent years, there are many reports from around the world where people die protesting against unfair or inhumane leaders and/or laws. 

 We in United States should not forget our own similarly fallen. Our largest generation, the Baby Boomers, lived through a time when many people ~ men and women, black and white ~ were injured and died simply because they stated in words and non-aggressive actions that treating another human being differently is WRONG. 

Some, likewise, died on American soil while protesting for Peace during a time of war. 

On this Memorial Day Weekend, in addition to fallen military, may we remember those who have NEVER raised a hand to harm another, but lost life or limb in helping others and in making this a better world. 

Not just those in the United States, but all those around the world...

In Memoriam

~ESA

Eight Days (Story)

Here is a new story for the Holidays.

~ ESA
_______________________________________________________________

EIGHT DAYS

The winds howled wordlessly outside. All the local trees had the last of their leaves torn mercilessly from the branches. Driving rain and heavy wet snow covered the northeast the day before Thanksgiving.

In the small riverside town of New Hope, PA, the residents feared the worst. The waters of the Delaware River rose alarmingly as the downpours continued. Some abandoned their holiday plans to move to higher grounds.

Up on the hill, a small Jewish synagogue prepared for both the storm and for the celebration. Wednesday night was not only the eve of Thanksgiving; it was the first night of Chanukah this year.

As the winds and blinding precipitation increased Wednesday morning, the lights around their small community were winking out, even before the full onset of daylight. Wednesday had become a dark day indeed.

The Rabbi of the local synagogue was a practical hands-on woman. She went out into the driving rain and started the generator. The lights in the little shul slowly blossomed into life again.

Shaking the rainwater from her hair as she stepped back inside, the Rabbi pulled out her cell phone, praying the reception from the cell tower would hold a while more.

"Hello?" the synagogue's Administrator answered.

The Rabbi identified herself and updated the Administrator on the situation. "The question in my mind," she added, "is how long do we have?"

"For lights, water pump, and minimal heat we have enough propane to last three days. Maybe less."

"Three days," the Rabbi signed, remembering Hurricane Sandy. "I pray this storm is not as bad."

"Will you cancel tonight's celebration?"

The Rabbi laughed at the challenge, "Of course not! This is Chanukah!"

The nor'easter continued through the day. While the winds died down in the evening, the widespread devastation in Eastern PA included their little town. Limbs were down everywhere. Power lines snaked across lawns and streets. Power was out and calls to PP&L discovered that the major trunk lines into the area were destroyed. New Hope, being a small tourist community, was nearly last on the recovery list.

The town needed to rely on its own resources for the next few days...

Being a hardy lot, the residents had weathered many snowstorms and outages before. Even if many of the roads were blocked, the residents came out on foot in droves Wednesday to assess the damage and to help each other.

By the afternoon, the Administrator had called the propane supplier in Harrisburg, PA. Then she called the Rabbi with the bad news. "With the roads into our town closed, they cannot get us anything. We were originally scheduled for a delivery Friday, but now it looks like it will be sometime next week."

The members of the synagogue helped each other to the little shul on the hill Wednesday evening, some even walking a mile or so through the last of the rain and blowing snow as the sun remained hidden behind darkened clouds.

At the end of the service, the Rabbi announced that the synagogue was ready to help any who needed a shelter. Even more, hot showers and hot meals would be provided.

The administrator approached the Rabbi with her brows drawn down in a worried scowl, "When I said three days, Rabbi, I meant heat, lights and water pump only. If we start to use the propane for hot water and cooking, we have less than a day's worth of propane! Our pipes will FREEZE! You know temps are predicted to plummet Thursday night!"

The Rabbi nodded. "That is EXACTLY why I opened the invitation. There are many in need. We should not turn them away."

The Administrator grumbled that there will be a price to pay, but the Rabbi caught her sleeve to grab her attention, "One more thing: Tell no one about the propane issue."

That night, seven families moved into the temporary shelter set up in the synagogue's community room. Hot soup, juice, coffee, tea and showers were made available. Even crayons and coloring pages were ready for the children.

The next day, the Rabbi got a call from the local Christian Church. They had fourteen families sheltering there, and their fuel tank was practically empty. "We have enough to cover Thanksgiving meals, but we'll be in the dark tonight. Can you help?" the minister asked the Rabbi.

"If we still have lights, send them up the hill," the Rabbi responded, wondering where they could get the fuel themselves. She sighed, "We will do what we can. All of us are in G-D's hands now."

The Christian Church's generator sputtered to an end around noon Thanksgiving Day. The church's volunteers served the community a hot dinner in a cooling room lit by candle light. With no generator to bring water up, they relied on portable toilets and paper plates. The kitchen pots and pans would just have to wait until there were resources to clean them.

Members of the Jewish community helped relocate the fourteen families from the church to the synagogue. An additional three families joined them as their gasoline generators died during the day. Twenty-four families crowded into the little shul's community room. Somehow, the water continued to flow, the heat, hot showers and hot food continued to be available, and the lights remained on.

The Rabbi wandered out to the generator just as the sun was making its final approach to the horizon. She rapped the propane tank with her knuckles near the bottom. It sounded sadly empty. She bowed her head in dismay. It was a matter of minutes now. There were no other shelters in the community with lights.

She wrapped her coat tightly around her as she walked back to the building. It was time to light the second candle on the Menorah.

By the morning, the Rabbi was dumbfounded; the generator continued to chug through the night. The smell of hot coffee and hot breakfast greeted her as she went through the community room, asking how everyone was doing.

She also made discrete inquires if anyone changed the tanks during the night. No one had. In fact, all were clearly unaware that there was no fuel.

She went outside and checked the tank. It was still the same tank, right down to the identifying number stamped on its side. She rapped it once again; it still sounded empty -- completely empty.

The temperature climbed from the freezing numbers through Friday. So the community got to work clearing the tree branches and shoving the dead power lines to the sides so they could travel the local roads.

Pick-up trucks ventured to the main roads into town. Some had huge swaths of limbs down as though a tornado or down draft plowed through the Deleware Water Gap's Forest. Others were washed away completely by the flash floods that ran down the steep hillsides. They were, indeed, cut off for some time to come.

The residents of New Hope took matters in stride.

As Friday evening's and Saturday's Shabbat ceremonies were held, a few new curious faces joined those in the synagogue.

While black-Friday shopping was a bust, most of Main Street was cleared by Saturday. Shop-keepers were still out of power and heat, but they used the natural light pouring in through the windows. Some even braved the elements and set out tables on the sidewalks to lure shoppers.

By Sunday, the world seemed to have forgotten their little town. PP&L still reported that they are doing their best to repair the trunk lines to get the power to their local substations. Penn-DOT reported that road clearing and repairs would begin on Monday.

Through all this time, the propane tank at the synagogue continued to supply the generator, heat, hot water and kitchen, defying all rational explanation. The Rabbi and Administrator kept this to themselves; they did not want to worry those sheltering there.

Sunday night, after lighting the fifth Menorah candle, those crowded into the little shul stared at each other as a loud reverberating noise filled the air. They gathered at windows and outside as a cacophony of roars grew in volume. Then over the mountain they saw the National Guard helicopters. With no place to land, they guided people to a location using spotlights. There they carefully lowered crates of supplies to the ground.

Food, bottled water, blankets, medical supplies... the volunteers quickly sorted through the contents in those crates. The Rabbi ran to one of the soldiers who was on the ground coordinating the supply drop. "What about propane? Any propane?"

"Sorry, ma'am," the uniformed guard shouted back over the roar of the hovering choppers. "Not this run. Maybe on the next trip. You should see the devastation. We've got towns cut off all over Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont have towns buried in snow."

The soldier studied the faces of the community, "Are there any evacuees? Anyone who needs medical attention outside your town?" The Rabbi shook her head, "As long as there is the insulin and the other medical supplies we asked for, we should be OK. What we really need is propane. I don't know how long we have before we get the power back."

The soldier nodded, "I'll relay your request, ma'am. It's a good thing you had full tanks when the storm hit."

The Rabbi shared a lopsided smile with the solider, and replied quietly, "The truth is we didn't; we only had enough for one day..."

Monday night, a new family showed up at the little shul. A few hisses and whispered comments were passed among those gathered when the family climbed out of the car. The mother and her two teenaged daughters were wearing hijabs.

Several members of the synagogue stormed through the Rabbi's office door. "We have a problem, Rabbi. There are those here that would rather stay at home and freeze than to shelter a Islamic family under our roof."

The Rabbi looked up from the pages she studied on the desk before her. "Are we not taught to help our neighbor?"

"But these are Muslims, Rabbi! They are not our People!"

"The Christians we brought under our roof are not Jews, yet we sheltered them."

"That is different. We have done a lot of work for our community with them. We know them. This family... is different; they are strangers. There is no mosque in New Hope! Let them go across the Delaware to find help. They are not welcome here."

The Rabbi closed the book on her desk and wordlessly met the eyes of each and every person gathered there.

Then she quietly responded, "We were strangers in Egypt. Yet Our G-D heard our cry and led us out of Egypt to Israel. This family is now crying to G-D. They are cold and hungry. When we were cold and hungry those 40 years in the desert, did G-D abandon us? No! G-D sent us food. Now we have a family whom G-D in His Wisdom has led here, with whom we can share G-D's Love and Providence."

One of the men growled through his beard, "Remember, Rabbi, you are an employee of this synagogue's counsel. If you push this upon the community, you will find yourself out of a job before the end of December!"

The Rabbi sat back, then resolve filled her heart and soul. "If that is what this synagogue community wants, then I will accept what G-D has in mind for my life." She gestured toward the propane tank visible through her window. "Do you see that tank?"

Those gathered were taken aback by the sudden change in topic. One of them inquired, "What about the tank?"

The Rabbi smiled a knowing smile. "We only had enough propane for one day."

She fell silent to let the meaning of the words sink in. That fuel had lasted for over six full days and still continued.

One of the women began to cry. One of the men hit his knees and began to pray. The others wordlessly shuffled out of the Rabbi's office and began to spread the news.

The Rabbi went outside to greet the newcomers personally, welcoming them to their little hilltop shul.

On Wednesday, Penn-DOT finally cleared one of the roads into town. The Administrator put in the call to the propane supplier; they would be there the next day.

As the final candle was lit on the Menorah that night, the generator outside sputtered and died. Those gathered in the synagogue blinked in the darkened room. Only the menorah provided light for the room, and those gathered gazed upon it in silence and wonder.

Then the lights came back on. Not from the generator; the main trunk lines into town had been restored, and the small town of New Hope, PA was back on the main grid.

The Rabbi walked toward the light switch as tears streamed down her cheeks. She snapped off the electric lights and in the soft glow of the lit Menorah, she began the ritual prayers.

Lest We Forget

Today, America celebrates Memorial Day. While there is ever-increasing focus on the military, I'd like to take a moment to also note - and thank - others who give life and limb for the sake of others. 

Firefighters, both paid and volunteer, who are the primary responders to fires, accidents and many other calls, ranging from routine to bizarre.

They put their life on the line many times, from entering blazing buildings, to working at roadway accidents on rainy nights, to entering icy water.

In addition to helping fellow man, they are also called to rescue animals from family pets, to farm livestock, to a wide variety of wildlife.

Some leave loved ones in the middle of dinner or the dead of night to answer the call, and never come home again... 

Police, both paid and auxiliary volunteers, put themselves at risk, from high-speed chases, to gunfire-fights, from domestic fights, to bomb responses, from mass evacuations, to search and rescue.

Officers are killed in line of action; also when they simply walk to help a disabled motorist and are struck by a distracted driver. 

EMT, Paramedics and ambulance crews are mostly volunteers across this country. They also put themselves at risk on a regular basis. They speed through traffic, where cars jump out into their way; they work roadside at accidents with cars whizzing past.

Many don't realize these dedicated men and women also go into very dangerous situations, such as rescuing some over the side of a cliff. They enter dangerous neighborhoods to help the fallen or sick. I didn't realize the extent of danger until a NYC Paramedic friend walked up in bullet-proof vest. On calls where someone was shot, the bullets are still flying when they arrive...


Rescue Workers/First Responders include those who go into danger immediately following a tornado, flood, hurricane, tsunami, earthquake or similar. They brave collapsing debris, churning waters and/or flames to help complete strangers.

In times of emergency, often these people are NOT trained emergency responders, but simply caring hearts who first arrive on the scene and realize that someone needs help!

And the most important...

The Peacemakers and Those who stand up for the rights of others, especially those who do so at the cost of their own lives. The news reports deaths in other parts of the world where people die protesting against unfair or inhumane laws or leaders. We in US should not forget our own similarly fallen.

Our largest generation, the Baby Boomers, lived through and should not forget the 1960's, where many people ~ men and women, black and white ~ died simply because they stated in words and non-aggressive actions that segregation is WRONG.

Some, likewise, died on US soil while protesting for Peace during a time of war.

On this Memorial Day, in addition to fallen military, may we especially remember those who have NEVER raised a hand to harm another, but lost life or limb in helping others and in making this a better world. Not just those in the US, but those all around the world...

In Memoriam

- ESA

Peace

Yesterday the news of the Israeli "preemptive strike" on Syria shook me.

This morning started with a barrage of tweets calling for Peace.

At Church today, the call for Peace was in the reading, the homily and some of the songs. The Mass ended with the Prayer of St. Francis: "Make me a channel of your Peace."

I truly believe that Peace is what God wants for us. If only we desired it for each other more. We have the tools within us. It is only our egos that stand in the way.

Only when we reach out to each other without weapons in our hands, that we will create a world that's quite grand.

May Peace come to our heart.

May Peace come to our home.

May we always remember,

We are NEVER alone.

~ESA

Lest We Forget

Today, America celebrates Memorial Day. While there is ever-increasing focus on the military, I'd like to take a moment to also note - and thank - others who give life and limb for the sake of others.

Firefighters, both pay and especially volunteer, are the primary responders to fires, accidents and many other calls (from flooded basements, to the proverbial cats stuck in trees). They put their life on the line many times from standing out at roadways accidents on rainy nights to entering blazing buildings. Some never go home from the call...


Police, also put themselves at risk, from high-speed chases to gunfire-fights. Sometimes it's unintentional, such as those officers killed when they were simply walking to help a disabled motorist and they get struck by a car whose driver wasn't paying attention.


EMT, Paramedics and ambulance crews are often not thought about on Memorial Day. But they also put themselves at risk. Speeding through traffic, where cars jump out is one hazard, working roadside at accidents another. One many don't realize is those dedicated men and women also go into dangerous neighborhoods to help a fallen or sick human being. I didn't realize this was an issue until I noted the bullet-proof vest of a friend who's a NYC Paramedic. She pointed out that some calls where someone was shot, the bullets are still flying when you arrive.



Rescue Workers and First Responders include those who dig through the debris of fallen buildings immediately following a tornado, hurricane, tsunami, earthquake or similar. They brave churning flood waters to rescue stranded motorists or people in homes. Many of these aren't trained emergency response but just the caring hearts who first arrive on the scene and realize there is someone that needs help.



And the most important...


The Peacemakers and Those who stand up for the rights of others, especially those who do so at the cost of their own lives. The news reports deaths in other parts of the world where people die during protests against what they see as unfair or inhumane laws or leaders. We in US should not forget our own similarly fallen. Our largest generation, the Baby Boomers, lived through and should not forget the 1960's, where many people ~ men and women, black and white ~ died simply because they stated in words and non-aggressive actions that segregation is WRONG. Some died for protesting for Peace.

These too, as well as fallen military, should be remembered on this Memorial Day. Not just those in the US, but those all around the world. May we especially those who have NEVER raised a hand to harm another, but lost life or limb in helping others and making this a better world.

In Memoriam

- ESA