Monday, December 26, 2011

active prayer

He calls me with a complaint and I tell him about her. It could be said or at least insinuated that by conveying such tragedy I am disregarding his need for sympathies. This, I swear, is not the case or at least not how I see it. You're one upping me, He says. You're competing with the greatest tragedy. That's it. You won.

No. No, that is not the case. I do understand that ants coming out of a ceiling, pouring even, is a bad, bad thing and it makes me not want to look at my ceiling 'cause I'm kinda scared I'll see an ant and one ant is likely to send me into a panic attack. It's just that when Mom told me about Jill it struck me silent. A long pause while my mind raced on what the hell can I do, what in the world, has she got someone, what about her other two kids, who has them, what does it feel like to feel that, Oh. Dear. God. I am so blessed. Please bless her. Amen.

Spontaneous prayer, a wish floating out into the universe with a big push from me. They say this works and I've seen it happen. Some may say it is silly, and I get that. To those people I say, It's okay. Don't wish or pray.


***********


The tip of the day came late. Two children, a brother and sister, felt a tragedy larger than their joy. This sent them on a journey across a street with a handmade card of we know he existed, we saw him, he was a nice guy, we just wanted you to know we knew. Right now even I wonder about their walk to that mother's door. Facing the face of the hand of the woman who opened a home of such grief, those two caring children let her know that they knew she still existed even if she was doubting that herself.

Later when Madison told Angie about how grateful the lady was, how she went on and on about how sweet they were, what a thoughtful thing that was for them to do, Angie looked at Madison and said, Now you know what Christmas is about, Madison.

It's about love, eleven year old Madison replied.






Gratitude steeped in humility.






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