“It ain’t over ’til it’s over.”
If it’s fabulous,
I don’t leave the performance as the entertainer leaves the stage –
Instead, moved by the crescendo, I stand for an ovation, and more often than not, witness
* Anticipating 2015 *
Happy New Year!
“Let peace begin with me
Let this be the moment now.
With every step I take
Let this be my solemn vow.
To take each moment
And live each moment In peace eternally.
Let there be peace on earth
And let it begin with me.”
– Jill Jackson/Mark Miller, 1955
“Peace On Earth”
“Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives.
When he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?”
Clarence, It’s a Wonderful Life
My mother, the bearer of good news.
An early morning phone call:
“Your photo is in this morning’s Arizona Republic, one of three – Valley & State, page A7″
Followed by a text, copied this morning from her “daily morning text” that she sends to a friend battling cancer.
“The people who walked in the darkness have seen a great Light; those who lived in a land of darkness — on them Light has shined.”
When darkness is sounding, the Light always has the last word.
This is good news.
It’s Christmastime, and expectedly, children across the world, are making wish lists for Santa.
Sadly, far too many children are not wishing for fire engines, Barbies, PlayStations, iPhones and bicycles.
Instead, all they are wishing for Christmas is a cure – a cure for cancer – and a dream fullfilled – to have their sisters and brothers, who cancer has stolen, back on Earth with them.
What are we earthly Santas to do?
How do we fulfill such lofty dreams and wishes?
We put down our personal lists that we’re checking more often than twice
and make time for a Celebration of Life –
a celebration of lifting children up –
lifting them closer to their loved ones
and lifting us all closer to a cure.
Time stands still for those wishing so intently,
those wishing for miracles.
– Lift them up now –
so they may feel the magic of Christmas
wash over them.
Banner Children’s Hospital’s “Celebration of Life”
On this cloudy day in Phoenix, I raced home in-between jobs to walk my dog. As we walked, I repeatedly encouraged her to hurry up,
but she insisted on leading, just taking her time – sniffing every shrub, every piece of gravel.
Feeling like I had no choice,
I stopped pushing. I stopped coaxing.
By giving in and allowing her to lead, I followed my dog to this fabulous orchid tree, in full bloom, blocking today’s cloudy skies.
How many times have I led the way along this sidewalk – hurriedly led the way, while missing this place that’s home to this tree?
Too many to count.
“Let her lead and have the strength to follow.”
It feels great to learn to let go and let someone else lead the way,
especially when that someone is my dog, with a nose better than mine,
who’s able to sniff out the goodness, most definitely, better than me.
September 10, 2014
“I’ll be waiting for you at the train station with a Logan sign” – Edgar, arranging our 11 PM Ollantaytambo, Perú, pickup after our arrival from Machu Picchu.
October 12, 2014
“Hi, Edgar. It’s been 4 weeks since my family and I visited Perú and it still hasn’t left my mind. I loved the quaint cities and the ruins, but most importantly, I loved the people. We are so thankful for the opportunity to have met you as a guide, and as a friend. I hope that all is going well with your business. Until we return, God bless you. – Logan”
LCP has Edgar’s cell phone # and home address, but both can only be reached while in Perú. LCP arranges for the package to be delivered to the hotel where we stayed while visiting Urubama. The hotel staff agrees to call Edgar when the package arrives at the hotel.
LCP mails the package, and then emails the hotel each week to see if its arrived.
November 26, 2014
LCP emails the hotel and is told that her package has arrived, but Edgar’s cell phone # does not work.
December 1, 2014
LCP receives a response, an email, from the Tambo del Inka, Resort & Spa, Valle Sagrado, Urubama, Perú:
Edgar picked up his package.
Better late than never…
to let someone know that you care.