Copywork: A Cheerful Mom

Is a picture still worth a thousand words if it's a picture of words?

This is first grade gent's copywork. Last month we had one of those days. Weeks? Enough, anyway, that I did a Google search for quotes on cheerfulness and good attitudes for this gent to copy into his composition notebook. Today's quote: "A cheerful friend is like a sunny day, which sheds its brightness on all around." (John Lubbock)

This fine middle gent is clever and mischievous, a bit of an imp. Halfway through copying the quote, he put down his pencil, erased the word "friend," and wrote "mom" in its place. Gave me that cheesy little grin and a kiss. After I took this picture and he'd finished copying, he drew hearts all over the board.

I've noticed that the opposite holds true as well, at least in our home. A grumpy mom is like a stormcloud. Why is it, I wonder, that anyone else in the family can have a bad day and the others just keep on going, but when I have a bad day, when I'm feeling grouchy, glum, grumpy it infects the entire family? Mom sets the tone for the whole day.

My fine young gent has inspired me to remember that I've never regretted kindness and that gentle words and a smile help set young feet on the right path. I'm going to print this picture and put it on my fridge to remind myself that I want to shed brightness on our days.

Stardust

We're made of stardust, and stardust is atoms.

Lucas Cranach the Elder (German, 1472-1553). The Nativity, ca. 1515-20

Whom have we, Lord, like you?
The great one who became small,
the wakeful one who slept,
the living one who died,
the king who abased himself to ensure honor for all,
blessed is your honor.

It is right that heavenly beings worship your humanity.
It is right that earthly beings worship your divinity.
The heavenly beings were amazed to see how small you became,
and earthly ones to see how exalted.

(4th century prayer, Ephrem the Syrian)

Read this book: Hot, Flat and Crowded

Hot, Flat, and Crowded: Why We Need a Green Revolution--and How It Can Renew America, Thomas L. Friedman.

"What kind of America would you like to see--an America that is addicted to oil and thereby fueling the worst autocracies in the world, or a green America that is building scalable alternatives to crude oil and thereby freeing ourselves from the grip of countries who have drawn a bull's-eye on our back and whose values we oppose?

What kind of America would you like to see--and America that is steadily outsourcing more and more blue-collar, labor-intensive manufacturing jobs to China, or a green America that is building more knowledge-intensive green-collar technology jobs...which are more difficult to outsource and will have to be the industry of the future, as fossil-fuel energy supplies dwindle and world population grows?

...a green America where the U. S. goverment imposes steadily higher efficiency standards, forcing a constant flow of new thinking around materials, power systems, and energy software making us the most energy-productive country in the world?

...a green America where inventing a source of abundant, clean, reliable, cheap electrons, which could enable the whole planet to grow in a way that doesn't destroy its remaining natural habitats, becomes the goal of this generation...

...a green America that is seen as the country most committed--by example--to preserving our environment and the species that inhabit it, earning the world's respect?"
(from Chapter One, "Where Birds Don't Fly," p. 23-24)

Everyone should read this book.

Make no mistake, it's hardly a light feel-good read. It's depressing and challenging. But whether you agree with Friedman wholeheartedly or not, he's right about one thing: We are rapidly outgrowing our available resources. Something has to change, and now, or humanity's ability to survive on this planet will be compromised. And our country has a choice: America can lead the way or we can get left in the dust.

We must be doing something right

For four days, my boys have been sharing their toys. Without a word from loving husband or me.

When these fine fine young gentlemen have opened multi-piece packs, say a track with several Hot Wheels, they chose which parts--cars, guys, swords--to give to their brothers. Not to play-with-for-now, or give-and-take-back. Give.

"That's mine," has almost always been followed by, "But you can try it when I'm done," or "Do you want a turn?"

I hear a fine young gent reply "Sure, you can have a turn!" or "In a minute I'll be done, then you can try" to a request of "Can I have a turn?"

They're generous with their time, too. "Want to play a game?" or "Will you help me?" has been followed by "Sure!"

Not every single time. After all, they're not perfect. Sometimes they're loud, or naughty, or cross. Sometimes they're even selfish. No one wants to share every thing, always, nor should they be expected to do so. But they're working it out peacefully together.

The desire of my heart for my young gents is that they grow up to love and treasure one another, to share good things and to speak words of peace and kindness. I am raising them not to be perfect in this moment, but to be fine gentle men who speak and live peace. I can see them growing loving hearts. Life is good.

'Twas the night after Christmas...

...and all through the house...

wafts the smell of turkey broth, remnants of Christmas dinner, waiting to cool and go into the freezer. There's half a tin of fudge on the buffet, and there was leftover ham and turkey and sweet potatoes for lunch.

A Hot Wheels track runs across the middle of the living room floor, and Lego creations of all ships and sizes have been gathered from around the house to perch patiently at the ends of the fine young gents' beds, waiting to find out where they'll fly and what they'll be tomorrow. There's a large playground ball on the landing, resting after a day of getting bounced down the stairs and hauled back to the top to go again. A board game and a coloring book and a puzzle neatly stacked on the table, waiting for new homes on the shelf.

A brand-new dictionary (with modern words like email and internet) sits on the bookshelf, next to a new book. And yesterday I discovered that there were indeed a few things, chosen by people who know me and love me, that I needed (garden gloves) and wanted (a handmade ceramic bowl) and would love (a fat chicken for my mantel).

The fine young gents have been bathed and tucked into bed, reading books with crisp pages and that clean new-book smell.

The closets have been cleaned, and neatly labelled boxes and bags--Goodwill, The Relief Nursery, Friends--sit in the hallway. The tree is still blinking, but not for long. Boxes and ribbons and bags have piled up next to the upstairs closet to be organized and put away until next year. Soon Christmas will be packed away into the basement, up in the attic, out at the curb until we do it all again next year.

Love and peace to all, dear friends, to those of you we know and cherish, and to those we've never met.

Life is good.

I can't think of a single thing....

I love this season. The stockings, the lights, the tree. Making cards and decorating cookies and putting together paper bag gifts for our young friends. Christmas carols. Candles and poinsettias and hot chocolate and letters to Santa.

Loving husband asked me what I wanted for Christmas. We've already had snow, and the only other thing I could think of is a new dictionary. Nothing else? he asked. Really, nothing else. I got shoes and books for my birthday, and I can't think of anything else that I want or need.

I already have everything I could want or need: Health, happiness, loving friends and family, a warm home, good food to eat. And books to read. Gifts under the tree are icing on the cake.

Life is good.

...in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

Rainy Day

Today was a grey stormy windy dreary day. The rain was bucketing down.

There was fussing and fighting, grumping and groaning. There was "Do I have to?" and "I don't want to." There was blah.

So.......




There were puddles....


...and a muddy ditch and a leaf-clogged gutter...


...and umbrellas and smiles.


And after buckets of rain, the sun came out.

There were hot baths and hot chocolate and warm pumpkin pancakes with cinnamon and stories on the couch.

Life is good.

Shhhhh......

Hear that?

It's quiet. (Sort of. I hear someone whispering to himself and the sound of Hot Wheels zooming very quietly.)

It's Quiet Time.

I used to wish for a quiet time. I feel so stretched these days, stretched and tired. But we couldn't do quiet time: No time-too busy-too hard to get the kids to stay quiet-we're always gone in the afternoon-too much work to do. I had lots of excuses, er, reasons.

Lately, I've been craving quiet. As my children have become more and more involved in activities, and I've taken on some volunteer duties to support those activities, I've been tired, pulled thin by volunteer demands and school planning and lessons and "Mom, Mom, Mom!"

Remember when you were a kid and you had time to daydream? Time to think things through or to pretend you were someone else or to drowse. My children still have plenty of free time, but me?? I miss the gift of having nothing to do. How in heaven's name can I give that to my children, this gift of quiet and calm, without modeling it for them? They will do as I do. Not only do I want to meet my own need for rest and quiet, I want to teach my children that as they grow and their lives become more and more full, it's important to take time from the busy-ness of life to refresh and renew.

So I took a page from a dear friend's book, and set a Quiet Time. Each afternoon we settle in for a whole hour: One fine young gent upstairs on the Big Bed, one on his own bed, the littlest on the couch. They do their free reading, puzzles, play quietly. Even the dog flops down on the floor with a sigh and closes her eyes.

Peace.

I can read my own book. Time to read, during the day! I can write in my blog. I can daydream and puzzle. I can (dare I say it?) take a nap. Well, sort of. Littlest gent is snuggly and sweet and tries his best to stay quiet, but he's got three-year-old-talkitis. "Mom, look at this. Mom, I'm reading a book. Look, Mom, I'm being quiet! See how quiet I am?"

The key to successful quiet time is making it a number one priority. Not just for the children, but for myself as well. Laundry to fold? No can do, it's Quiet Time. Kids haven't practiced piano? Too bad, it's Quiet Time. Schoolwork isn't quite done? After Quiet Time. After only one week, the fine young gents look forward to Quiet Time too. Yesterday I gave them a choice: Quiet first, then play? Or play first, then rest? "Quiet time first!" they shouted. (Yeah, well, they're quiet once they get to their cozy spot.) The day before, a tired gent leaned his head on my shoulder, asking "Is it Quiet Time yet?"

After our hour of rest, we're refreshed. We come together ready to play and laugh and be silly. I've had a chance to pursue something interesting uninterrupted...mostly...and I've had a break from noise. The fine young gents aren't grating on one another's nerves or jumping up and down on mine. Afternoon squabbles have all but disappeared, I feel more prepared for the demands of dinner and housework, we've laughed together a little more. We've all met our need for quiet and peace and reflection, and we're ready to rejoin the world with energy and enthusiasm.
------------------------------------------------------

Quiet Time Rules:

• Quiet
• Everyone finds a cozy spot to be alone. Take your toys, books, puzzles with you.
• No phone, no housework, no schoolwork except free reading, not even for Mom.

I had to make one more rule: No hollering, "MOM! MOM! Is Quiet Time over yet?" I will tell you when Quiet Time is over.

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

Quiet time is over. It's finishing up right now. Today I've chosen to write in--on?--my blog for my contemplative time. My middle gent just came to hug me. He's leaning on me as I type.

He said, "Anyway," as though continuing a conversation, "I don't want to be mean."

"Okay."

"I don't want to be mean in this world. I just want to be happy in this world. I want a happy heart."

I asked him what brought that on. "I just want to make peace. I just want to share."

Apparently quiet time gives my deep thinker a chance to slow down and think deep thoughts.

Birthday Girl

My lovely young lady is a teenager. Thirteen. It seems only a couple years ago that I was a new momma, terrified and smitten all at once. She's so grown-up and still such a child, all at once, just like most thirteen-year-olds. Yesterday I was bitten by the nostalgia bug, and the poor girl had to listen to stories of me holding her when she was brand-new, the story of her daddy falling head over heels the first time he held her hand, the story of the cradle in which she slept, the story about how she tickled my side with her tiny hand every time she nursed. "Moooo-ooom," she groaned, but I could tell she was secretly a little pleased. It helps to remember our big girls as little babies sometimes, knowing that precious tiny being is still cradled in all the layers of years. It reminds me to treasure who she is in her heart and mine as we navigate the stormy waters of adolescence.

Look at that smile.

She wanted to decorate her own cake, with the help of a friend. Her little brothers made birthday cards out of construction paper, decorated with stickers and crayon drawings. Then we sang and she tried to blow out her candles. She even graciously let her annoying little brother help.

One year ago today my baby was one day old, and we were still in the hospital. As I said above, I was terrifed and smitten all at once. Not sure what to do with this tiny little person. Wondering what the future held for us. She had difficulty nursing, and I was patiently trying and trying to get her latched on. The nurse came in and watched for a minute and I was finally successful. "You're going to be such a good mommy," she said. I cry when I remember her words. I still remember the nurse's name, Christine. I wish I could go back in time to tell Christine that her moment of kindness gave me a lifetime of courage, and I have needed every ounce of it.

A moment of kindness, of reaching out does not cost much. We can be angels on this earth for those around us, and we may never know the impact of courage offered, kindness spoken, love given to another.

Peace to you and yours.

From the CSA newsletter...

From the Food for Lane County Youth Farm page:
"Established in 1998, the Youth Farm is an innovative program combining hunger relief with youth services and education. The three-acre farm provides paying work, job training and education to at-risk teenagers throughout the spring and summer, and serves as an educational work site for local alternative schools and programs serving at-risk youth throughout the year."

"The core of the program is the summer Youth Farm Crew. Every year the Gardens hire 12-18 crew members, ages 14-17 years, from low-income backgrounds who have significant barriers to employment. Our youth crew plant, care for and harvest diverse vegetable crops, learning and growing while they work."

And from the weekly newsletter:
"At the Youth Farm teens love to eat the produce they grow. The most popular day at the farm is Wednesday, aka Harvest or CSA day. We spend all morning harvesting everything that is ripe and ready for your boxes, and by mid-morning break, the youth farmers are already planning what produce they want to bring home to share with their families. Last week zucchini was the all-around favorite, several of the youth farmers were going to take home the larger zukes that got away from us to make zucchini bread, usually with a mom or grandma. Bryn planned her evening salad of lettuce and cukes and radishes; Ryan was going to cook dinner for his foster family with produce from the farm. Justin admitted to me that he brought home kohlrabi the week before and he and his mom couldn't figure out what to do with it. At lunch, I shared some of my kohlrabi slaw with him and a recipe, and he couldn't wait to try it at home.

So much pride in the food they help to grow. May it nourish you and your families well."

Well. I'd add my own words, but I think that says it all. It's a privilege to participate in this program, nourishing to the body and to the spirit for all of us.

Peace to you.

Joy

i thank you God for most this amazing

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

~e.e. cummings

There are no strangers.....

There are no such things as strangers, only friends we haven't met yet. -- Anonymous

This week our Oregon Children's Choir hosted a children's choir visiting all the way from China. We volunteered to house four girls.

We were nervous:
Will they like us?
Will they speak English (They did, beautifully.)
Will they like our food?
Will they have fun?

What an wonderful adventure! The unexpected snow made it difficult for some families to meet the bus, so we brought eight girls home, scrambling at midnight for enough extra blankets and pillows to make up beds on the floor.

We all felt shy at first. Pets make good ice breakers. The cats, and even our excitable puppy Poppy, were oohed and aahed over. The boys were oohed and aahed over too. The oldest fine young gent found a fellow Harry Potter fan. Middle gent was delighted to suddenly have eight more big sisters in our house. Youngest gent was shy, but talked about the girls non-stop while they were gone, and even giggled a little when he got tickled on the belly. Our lovely ladies enjoyed their new friends too, although lovely lady with autism mostly hid in the basement playroom, as she felt very shy with all of the new people.

Highlights:

Hearing Chinese spoken in our home. Delightful.

Cheers when we served food from the Asian market.

Listening to the girls sing a Chinese song with our daughter.

Hearing the choir. We attended an evening concert, and it was absolutely wonderful.

Hugs. Hello hugs and goodbye hugs.

Isn't this what these kinds of exchanges are really all about? Meeting new people. Trying new things. Learning that a smile goes a long way. Making new friends.

It was hard to say goodbye after such a short time. I wasn't ready for the girls to go.

"Mom," five-year-old gent asked me tonight, "When are our Chinese girls coming back to our house?"

That's what the boys called them, "our Chinese girls," as though the girls somehow belonged to us. I suppose in a way they did. They stepped into our hearts when they stepped in through our door, just as though they were all a part of our family.

I told him that they were on their way back to China soon, and his face fell.

"But I want to play with them some more, Mom. I will miss them."

Me too, bunny.

"I know!" my little problem-solver says. "We can go to China tomorrow to see them!"

Dear young friends, you are in our hearts. If you ever make your way to Oregon again, you are welcome in our home, always.

Earth Child: Starlight, Star bright

Earth Child 2000: Earth Science for Young Children Games, Stories, Activities, and Experiments, Kathryn Sheehan and Mary Waidner.

Earth Child 2000 is filled with activities intended to develop environmental awareness in young children, with a focus on developing that awareness by creating personal connections between children and nature. Activities are divided into sections with titles like "Circle of Day and Night" and "Trees Are Terrific!" and "Let There Be Peace on Earth," with activities that correspond to the theme of each chapter. The activities range from nature walks and observations to imaginative and cooperative games to ways to advocate for the environment.

The subtitle of the original edition included this phrase: "and Other Ideas About Living Lightly on Planet Earth." Isn't that lovely? "Living lightly on Planet Earth." I think that idea, the philosophy of the book, is what drew me to this book in the first place. "I don't need another nature study book," I'd tell myself every time I visited the bookstore. It was always still there on the shelf. I checked every time, and each time I pulled it off the shelf I'd read an activity that sounded like something we'd love to do. Finally I just bought it. My instinct was right, this book absolutely belongs on the Poohsticks bookshelves. It sat on the shelf for a few months because I just wasn't quite sure what to do with it, so I wrote "Earth Child" on the weekly school schedule, chose a few activities, and wrote down a plan. With that, Earth Child has been the perfect addition to our nature studies, the kinds of activities I might not think of on my own, educational and nature-connected so that it suits our family and school philosophy.

Earth Child inspired our lovely star-wishing activity. The original activity called for me to teach the fine young gents the "Starlight, star bright" rhyme then take them outside to choose their own special star. While we didn't follow the activity suggestion exactly (it was daytime, for one), it provided us a perfect jumping-off spot for one of the most peaceful and creative activities we've done for some time. The fine young gents weren't sure what to wish for at first.

"More Legos!" piped one young man. "I want more Hot Wheels!" shouted another.

"We've already got Legos and Hot Wheels," I responded. Truth be told, I was a little disconcerted by my materialistic concrete thinkers, especially since the point was to start creating more of an Earth focus. "We'll be making our wishes on special stars, so let's think of the most fun and fantastic wishes we can."

And they got it. One gent's wishes would inspire the other to make a new wish, and back and forth they went, choosing for me to write down their most special wishes. At bedtime, in their pajamas, they bundled up and we went into the back yard to tell our wishes to the stars.

Tomorrow we'll be visiting the planetarium, another Earth Child suggestion. Loving husband is planning to take the ladies and gents outside with the telescope on the next clear night. We'll be delving into the "Wonders in a Garden" and "Wet and Wonderful" sections in the spring. We'll learn more about living lightly on Planet Earth.

Life is good.

Suluhisha, Suhuliana

Suluhisha, suluhiana.
Suluhisha, suluhiana.
(Swahili: Make peace, make peace with each other. )

And when there's hope in our hearts,
The world can't stop what we start.
We are the children, the children of peace,
Seeking the pathways of love and harmony.
When one by one we stand up, and believe.
We can be the children of peace.

I will be the one to reach out my hand.

Suluhisha, suluhiana.
Suluhisha, suluhiana.

(from Children of Peace (Suluhisha, Suhuliana))

Last year I listened to a lovely lady's choir sing "Peace, peace peace on Earth..." and they brought the room to stillness. Everyone stopped to listen. This year, they sang another song of peace, during a morning church service, that nearly brought me to tears. Listening to the girls sing songs of peace, all of those beautiful young voices singing words of hope brings tears to my eyes. From last year's post:

'When these children sing "Let us all sing together of peace on earth," they still believe that peace is possible. They imagine still nights, and dream of people around the world holding hands and greeting one another with love. A choir made up of grownups with the finest of voices could never sing that song the way those girls did. Whatever challenges the girls may face in their individual lives it is likely that most of them didn't wake up in the morning to read a story in the paper about three little boys...little boys...blown up because their father works for a government with which the bombers disagree. (Why do I read the paper? Stories like this bring me to tears. "What's the matter, Mom?" asks the six-year-old gent. Do I tell? Or not?) Stories of poverty and famine and war from all across the world. Knowledge of the truly horrible things that human beings can do to one another. Once we grow up and start to see the world, I don't think we can truly sing the words "Peace on earth" without regret and grief mingled with our hopes for peace on earth, goodwill to all.'

I think about how precious these girls are, how lovely, how innocent. As we grow into adulthood, we become jaded by the world and the possiblity of peace seems to fade and grow dim. War, murder, bombs, guns, hatred all chip away at our belief that peace is possible. Thanks to God for these lovely young women, for their hope and belief in peace. Their hope revives my own hope. Their belief inspires my own belief. Not the naive hope that suddenly the world's leaders will begin speaking words of peace, nor the belief that the people of the world will put down their weapons tomorrow and embrace one another. But hope and belief that as long as we hold the dream of peace alive, practice peace in our daily lives, look for ways to promote peace we can make a difference. Even a small difference. It's better than giving up.

Our hopes for the world, for our children: Live in peace. Speak peace. Teach peace.

Make peace, make peace with one another.

The stockings were hung....

Peace, Peace, Peace

Peace on earth, good will to all.

This is a time for joy,

This is a time for love,

Now let us all sing together

Of peace, peace, peace on earth.

(from Peace, Peace/Silent Night)

Last night eleven-year-old lovely lady's choir sang at a nursing home (or retirement community or assisted living facility or whatever it was called). The girls were relaxed and confident. They were only a few feet from their audience, singing songs that they love. And something magical happened. They forgot they were performing and they just sang together. Beautifully. Sweetly. Simply. "Peace, peace, peace on earth...."

The elderly woman next to me stopped talking. The staff stopped to listen. I had tears in my eyes. A woman sitting in the front row quavered "Beautiful. Beautiful," when the girls finished their song.

Why? Their voices were sweet and pretty, but not perfect, not professional, not angelic. And those sweet girls are no angels. They're just regular kids. Sweet and good and kind and snotty and thoughtless and rotten. Just like the rest of us.

But in that moment they sang of peace on earth and meant it. When these children sing "Let us all sing together of peace on earth," they still believe that peace is possible. They imagine still nights, and dream of people around the world holding hands and greeting one another with love. A choir made up of grownups with the finest of voices could never sing that song the way those girls did. Whatever challenges the girls may face in their individual lives it is likely that most of them didn't wake up in the morning to read a story in the paper about three little boys...little boys...blown up because their father works for a government with which the bombers disagree. (Why do I read the paper? Stories like this bring me to tears. "What's the matter, Mom?" asks the six-year-old gent. Do I tell? Or not?) Stories of poverty and famine and war from all across the world. Knowledge of the truly horrible things that human beings can do to one another. Once we grow up and start to see the world, I don't think we can truly sing the words "Peace on earth" without regret and grief mingled with our hopes for peace on earth, goodwill to all.

Did I say those girls aren't angels? Maybe they are, just a bit. Their choir director asked them to please visit with the audience for just a little while-- to say hello, and introduce themselves, and maybe tell a little about their lives. Those sweet girls, they were truly lovely ladies. Almost every single girl made a real effort to reach out and talk to the men and women in the audience. My lovely lady said that it was her favorite part of the whole visit. Even better than the cookies and card-making party afterward? Yes, she said. She was thrilled that she'd met a woman who is 93 years old. She wants to go back to visit sometime.

Peace and goodwill to all.

Since you cannot do good to all.....

Here's what I did this afternoon. I sewed bags to make school kits for children in Darfur. One of my lovely ladies helped me shop and one of the fine young gents helped me fill the bags.
I was inspired by a column in yesterday's paper about a community challenge-- send 1000 school bags to children in the Darfur region of Sudan in Africa. What the heck, I have a sense of community and compassion for others, right? I had a little extra fabric, notebooks were on sale at Target for only ten cents each, and it might make an interesting project for the kids-- expand their awareness of the world and help them to be grateful for what they have.

As my daughter helped me shop for supplies she started asking questions. Along the lines of "Do I have to do this?" To her credit she asked some really good questions once she got a fuller picture. Loving heart, she wanted to choose sparkly shoelaces to tie the bags so that the children could have something special. Anyway, I started trying to give her a mental picture of what it must be like for the children living in refugee camps. Because she's very literal I started an "Imagine what it would be like if you...." story. Right there in the middle of Target I started imagining. Homes burned. Sickness. Heat and dirt and crowding. Mothers harmed and fathers killed. Fear and homesickness and despair. Imagine what it would be like if my daughter, the light of my heart..... I had to stop talking for a minute because suddenly the idea of my precious babies, well let's just say that I had to shut up so that I wouldn't turn into the weird lady sobbing in the school supplies aisle.

My fine young gent, so happy to help, asked lots of good questions too. "Mom, are the kids Christians?" (I don't know, mostly Muslim, I think.) "Mom, why did the bad guys burn their houses?" (I don't know, bunny. There's a war and people do bad things in wars.) "Mom, why do people do bad things in wars?" (Oh baby, I wish I knew. I wish I knew.) Now I am in tears again.

Two things occur to me as I write this. One, thanks to the internet I now know the answers to some of my kids' questions. I'll tell them as much as I know tomorrow. But I still don't know why people do such terrible things to one another. And two, my awareness of the world has stretched a little, and not comfortably. And, oh I am grateful for everything I have. So grateful.

I look at the completed bags, just two little fabric bags with some notebooks and pencils, and they seem so small. So insignificant. Then I remember our school motto: Since you cannot do good to all, you are to pay special attention to those who, by accidents of time, or place, or circumstance, are brought into closer connection with you. (St. Augustine) Usually I think of this as a reminder to care for the people I meet, for the children who bless my home, for people I actually see as I go about my life. Instead, today, we paid special attention to two children who by accident of circumstance are brought close to our hearts. Whose pleasure at being offered a small gift is something we'll have to imagine. Whose lives are unimaginable. All I have to offer is a little cloth bag, some school supplies and some tears. For today since I cannot do good to all, I can help do a tiny bit of good to a few and that will have to be enough.

Peace. Hug your little ones and your loved ones tight today.