Tag Archives: believe

Rainbow Moments

A second in time,

Never before seen.

But special the colour,

In blue, red and green.

 

So very dear,

And then it is gone.

But the memory remains,

With each breath that is drawn.

 

A vision in colour,

It plays in your mind.

Your life becomes better,

The memory entwined.

 

Believe in yourself,

Be the best you can be.

And those moments of rainbows,

You always will see.

 

Swaddling Clothes

 

So long ago a child was born,

In swaddling clothes He lay.

Sheep and cattle gathered near,

And wise men kneeled to pray.

 

As time went by upon the earth,

This child had years to grow.

Once He sought a temple’s scribes,

To tell them what to know.

 

The Son did speak His Father’s words,

Of love and trust and truth.

Others must be taught to know,

The principles of this youth.

 

He lived His life each every day,

By the tenets of which he spoke.

They form the basis of our lives,

As one we must invoke.

 

So long ago a man did die,

In swaddling clothes he lay.

He gave His life for all of us,

And now it’s time to pray.

 

 

The Last Christmas Gift

Elsie looked around the room. There was carnage everywhere. A tornado passing through would have left less damage. Bodies were strewn throughout the mayhem. She chuckled. Just another Christmas morning with children.

One of the bodies stirred. A little fist came up from beneath the wrapping paper it had been curled up under. A pile of boxes sneezed. Another child was stirring. Elsie thought perhaps there were a few more to come. But she knew the fresh smell of coffee would probably wake all the adults up. Sure enough, the love of her life wandered into the room, his hands wrapped around a hot steamy mug. With no hesitation he handed it to Elsie and returned from whence he came to get another.

A few more adults showed up with coffee at hand and a tray of hot chocolate for the children. It was Christmas morning. It was after the frenzy of opening gifts. After breakfast. Everyone had been up so early for the main event that the naps became inevitable. The children slept curled around their newfound bounty while the adults found more comfortable settings. Elsie didn’t need a nap. She wanted to watch her charges. There is nothing more spiritual then the breath of a sleeping child, safe and secure in their surroundings.

There was a different feeling in the room as everyone gathered once again. They all knew what was coming. Except for one. Malcolm was new to the group, to the family. He was still getting used to the Western dynamic. He had been born into soul crushing poverty in another country. His family had been killed in a local war that no one understood.  He was alone. But he had been found by people who cared and so began his journey to this moment.

“Malcolm,” send Elsie, “There is one more Christmas gift for the family. That includes you. But you don’t know the history so I’m going to tell you how this all started.”

Malcolm set up straighter, he was interested to know how things worked here and he was curious about his new family. So, he listened very carefully.

Elsie continued: “When my Great, Great, Great Grandfather came to this country he was very poor. But his parents believed they could find a better life, a better future in the New World. They risked everything. The first few years were hard but they were a hard-working family. That first Christmas looked like it was going to be pretty bleak. There was barely enough money for food let alone presents. But there was a wise patriarch and he refused to be sad. He said the goose had wandered across the street and died. His beloved wife said nothing as she picked the buck shot out of the breast of their Christmas goose.

They said grace and gave thanks for their bounty. The light was dim and the curtains were thin but they knew that others were worse off so they gave thanks. And that’s when my ancestor brought out the Last Christmas Gift.”

Elsie sat back in her chair and smiled.  She looked at the faces around her beaming with anticipation. She loved this part of Christmas.

“Ever since then we have honoured the tradition that was started so many years ago.”

As if by magic a small beautifully wrapped package appeared in her lap. There were many ooohs and aaaahs from her audience. And not just the children!

With studied patience Elsie peeled back the wrapping paper. And then with a flick of her wrist a small wooden carving appeared in the palm of her hand. It was a little drummer boy.

Elsie smiled. “Would anyone like to tell me what gift this is?”

Malcolm looked confused. He didn’t know the story of the Little Drummer Boy. And then something miraculous happened. A little tow-hair girl stood up and walked to Malcolm. She wrapped her little arms around him and said:

“His gift is to us all. He was a little drummer boy who had no presents to give the newborn King, Jesus Christ so he played his drum. He gave all he had in his heart and it was the most precious gift of all. That’s what we all need to do. And it will be precious.”

This Christmas Morning

Christmas morning is here,

And with it the holiday cheer.

With a glass of eggnog,

It’ll clear up the fog,

Then magic will surely appear!

 

Santa has been in the night,

And he makes everything right.

From on top of a sleigh,

He guides the new day,

And suddenly everything’s bright!

 

Now this morn I wish to impart,

Words that are said from the heart.

With love and compassion,

It is the new fashion,

Perhaps we’ll get a new start!

 

This year has come to an end,

To all that I now count as friend.

The world is so big,

But I don’t give a fig,

Blessing to you all I do send!

 

The True Spirit

Mary was angry. Here it was two days before Christmas, she was in a town she didn’t know, a new job she didn’t like, she had no friends and no family close by, and some dirty bum had his hand out looking for money.  And on top of all that, he had the unmitigated gall to be smiling as if he was happy.

Mary wasn’t smiling.  In fact, she was absolutely miserable.  Christmas was just another day on the calendar, it had no real meaning.  People went into stores and spent a ridiculous amount of money on gifts for other people that the other people really didn’t want.  Christmas wasn’t even for the children. It was just another way to teach them about how money makes the world go ‘round.  If you had money, it was a good life.  If you did not then you starved and were miserable, and you should look like you were miserable.

Mary approached the man that she called a bum.  She was frustrated, she was angry, and she needed this person to explain to her how he could be so damn happy! Maybe he was on drugs or maybe he was crazy, but Mary didn’t think so.  Of course, she did drop a twenty-dollar bill into his tin can before she posed her question.

“Are you alright? You are sitting here on a cold sidewalk asking for money.  All around you is obscene wealth.  How can you sit there and smile when you have nothing and so many people around you are spending money like it is water and on frivolous things? You look like you need food and these people are buying toys for people who really don’t want them.  How can you sit there and smile? I’ve seen you everyday for the last week and you smile everyday, you wish people a Merry Christmas, or Happy Hanukkah, or Happy Kwanza and I don’t understand how you can actually be happy.”

At this point Mary was almost in tears.  She felt so alone and so unloved that she felt jealous of this destitute individual.  She wanted to shake him to make him see what an awful place the world was but she didn’t. What she did do was pause for a breath and what she saw then took that breath away.

Just a moment before she had been looking at a dirty bum and now, he had taken on a dignity that belied her original perception.  He sat up straighter and his smile became wider.  Even his eyes seemed to twinkle with a secret knowledge. There was a beauty to his face that she had not noticed before. His voice, when he spoke, was strong and melodic.  The words he spoke were the truth.

“But I have everything.  Someone gave me a coat to keep me warm.  He gave me the gift of warmth. People stop and give me their spare change, a cup of coffee, or a sandwich. A small child gave me a penny.  A penny to a small child is like a million dollars to a billionaire. A beautiful woman gave me her scarf to warm my neck.  An old man gave me a warm pair of gloves.  All I have to offer them in return is my smile and my best wishes.  Some people are embarrassed and hurry on but others take it in the spirit in which it is given. Some people give of themselves, and that is what makes me the wealthiest of people.”

Mary thought about what this person had just said to her.  It was starting to make sense.  The importance of the season was not the gift; it was not the thought of the gift. That was all meaningless.  What was important was the giving of one’s self willingly.

The next day Mary went into work.  She felt a little lighter, a little happier.  She looked around her with a new perspective: people were giving of them selves; the gifts they were giving were simply an extension of their spirit.  Sometimes the gifts were expensive, sometimes the gifts cost only pennies and sometimes it was only a word and a hug.  But these people were giving, Mary saw that now.  And Mary started giving as well.

It was Christmas Eve now and Mary wanted to share with the homeless man what she had learned.  She stopped at the bank and took out one hundred dollars.  She placed the money in an envelope and tucked that into the pocket of her coat.  With a smile on her face, she went looking for the homeless man.

But he wasn’t there. Mary walked up and down the street looking for him.  She asked shop keepers if they had seen him but everyone was too busy and said they didn’t remember.  So, Mary continued on her walk home.  She was sad now that she couldn’t share with the man who had taught her so much.  She wondered where he had gone and what he was doing for Christmas.

Just two blocks before Mary reached her apartment building was a small church.  Mary had seen the structure before but had never ventured in.  Today her feet took her over the threshold and into the church.  She sat quietly in one of the back pews and looked up into the beautiful stained-glass windows.  She felt at peace.  As her eyes wandered over the beautiful paintings, a figure seemed to stand out:   it was of man who was seated on the ground and his hand was outstretched as if beckoning.  Her eyes widened in recognition and then she shook her head, it was not possible.

As Mary turned over in bed that night, she replayed in her head what she had learned and she smiled.  She had left the envelope with the money in the church; she knew it was the right thing to do. Never again would she forget just how valuable it is to interact with other people.  Giving of one’s self is as simple as smiling.  He had taught her that.

 

 

 

 

A Snowball’s Chance

He was brought into being,

On a cold winter’s night.

Two warring young factions,

And a friendly snow fight.

 

He was cold and quite round,

With a definite flair.

His head full of snow,

Instead of with hair.

 

He flew through the sky,

With an abundance of glee.

Then splat it was over,

On the side of a tree.

 

He picked himself up,

And patted his head.

“No more of this!”,

I think that he said.

 

He played in the snow,

But away from the boys.

“Life is for living,

I’m not one of their toys!”

 

Seasons do change,

At least here in the north.

And soon it was warmer,

The flowers burst forth.

 

Everyone thought,

Their snow friends had gone,

Perhaps then next winter,

Once again, they’d be spawn.

 

But our hero of note,

Had just made a plan.

He’d stay though the seasons,

And come forth as a man.

 

On a warm summer’s day,

When the freezer is humming.

Behind ice cubes and creams,

He might just be slumming.

 

So, remember these words,

As you shiver with cold.

Our hero is near,

He’ll never grow old.

Thinking

What does an elephant think about,

As he stands inside a zoo?

What passes through his mind,

As he’s looking back at you?

What does a pigeon think about,

As he soars above the crowds?

Perhaps it just a simple thing,

As he plays amongst the clouds.

A single ant is scurrying,

His job it must be done.

The others they depend on him,

The many and the one.

A crow is thinking, I can tell,

He cocks his head at me.

Is he looking at my lunch,

Does he think it’s free?

Two yellow fish are playing,

Deep beneath the sea.

I wonder what they’re thinking of

Could it be of me?

A turtle swims beneath the waves,

A carefree life at best.

But then one day he wonders,

What about the rest?

Behind, beside and over there,

Are those we do not know.

But they have thoughts and feelings,

Just like that silly crow.

What does a person think about,

And he looks upon another?

Race and colour notwithstanding,

Could he be my brother?

This crazy world that we call ours,

We’re only tenants here.

If we make nice and play together,

There is no one to fear.

I Can See

I have not seen the face of God

He does not speak to me.

But I look upon the wonders

Everywhere I see.

 

A single rose does blossom,

And a sprig of grass does sprout ,

Are these the wonders of my Lord?

I think there is no doubt.

 

I stood in awe and watched

As an infant drew a breath.

I held the hand of a woman

As she journeyed into death.

 

Sunrises and sunsets

Paint a beautiful sight.

These are things that I can see,

The miracles of light.

 

A simple breath is drawn

With words that we can share.

Because we really do believe

These wonders are not rare.

 

Every second matters

You and I do too.

Love should be a part

Of everything we do.

 

And now I understand

What it means to be.

I have seen the face of God

He always speaks to me.

The Witch’s Brew

Eddy stepped back from the sign that she had just hung up outside the open door and thought about what had brought her to this point.  Edwina Roxanne Dupuis was a woman of exquisite taste.  Even if she was the only one who thought so. She had conjured up the idea of a neighbourhood coffee and tea house almost 3 years ago and it was only now getting its finishing touches.  It seemed appropriate that opening day was actually Halloween.  It was Edwina’s favourite holiday. She also felt that the name Edwina didn’t fit her character on any day so she always went by Eddy.

“Eddy do you want to use orange tablecloths or burnt umber.  And what in heaven’s name is the difference?  They both look the same to me.”

The voice that had just interrupted her reverie belonged to her not so silent partner Joshua.  They had met and become friends while both were attending university.  Years went by while they pursued their individual careers.  Unfortunately, neither was satisfied and when they met up again in a coffee shop, they were each looking for something new.  From that coincidental meeting came the idea for The Witch’s Brew.

“Burnt umber Joshua.  If you can’t see the difference then you are colour blind.”

Joshua stood for a moment looking at the two tablecloths, one in each hand.  His head went back and forth trying to discern a difference.  Instead he just shook his head.  Fortunately, each had a label so he was actually able to tell which was which.

“There is no difference,” he whispered quietly to himself.  They might be partners but she was still the boss.

A little louder he said, “The place looks fabulous!  You’ve done a great job Eddy.”

The woman in question came in to the coffee shop proper and she was smiling. “We did a great job Joshua.  I may have been the driving force but you provided the money and the moral support.  I’ll never forget that.

Joshua smiled.  Maybe she’d start to look at him a little differently.  There was more to him than friendly support and a buck or two.  He had been nursing a crush on Eddy since the day they met more than 10 years ago.  Unfortunately, circumstances did not allow them to explore a relationship.  Maybe now it would.  She just had to see him as more than a business partner.

“I’m curious, why did you choose Halloween as the opening day?”

“It’s my favourite holiday.  It’s nice when people are able to let go of convention, and be something they are not.  Or perhaps it’s when their real characters are allowed to shine.  We have no idea who and what people really are unless they tell us.”

As she spoke Eddy moved behind the coffee bar and started to polish an already gleaming counter.  She didn’t look at Joshua as she talked and he wondered if the words she used were meant for him specifically.

“Okay boss lady, what do we still need to do before tomorrow’s grand opening?  Geez, do I have to wear a costume?”

Eddy stopped fussing and looked at Joshua. “Of course you have to wear a costume!  It’s Halloween! And all that’s left to do is put out some flowers and put on a couple of pots of coffee.”

Joshua looked slightly alarmed. “I can handle the coffee, but a costume?”

“Oh and everything is going to be free tomorrow morning, just up until

12 o’clock.  I can’t think of a better way to get people to come into our shop.  It’ll cost a few dollars but I think it will be worth it in the end when people realize what a great place it is.  Are you okay with that money man?”

“Sure Eddy what ever you want.” He seemed somewhat distracted, “I could go as a pirate. They’re macho.  What are you going as?”

“Well as a witch of course.” Eddy’s laughter brightened the room immensely. “Don’t worry Joshua I promise not to turn you into a toad, unless of course you use orange tablecloths instead of the burnt umber!”

The two friends shared a good-natured chuckle.  There was only one problem: the two people in the room were not exactly what they appeared to be.  Each one had a secret they were hiding from the other.

*******************

The day was finally over and with a satisfying click the front door was closed and locked.  One individual was already sprawled over a couch, his shoulders sagging with relief.  The other was slowly patrolling the room picking up the odd cup and saucer.

“We did it Joshua.  And I think it was a huge success.  Now I am so tired I could cheerfully sell this place for a dollar.” With that Eddy sat down in the nearest chair, her chin slowly sliding towards her chest.

The figure on the couch stirred for a moment, his hand raised and a very small voice uttered only one word: “Sold!”

After a moment the two laughed quietly.  Several more minutes went by before Eddy forced her head to rise up and survey the newest hip spot on the street.  The Witch’s Brew was a success!

“Wake-up Joshua, there is still a ton of work to do.  We have to tidy this place up and get it ready for tomorrow morning.  And we have got to hire some staff. . . .”  Eddy’s voice continued on.  She was outlining the necessary steps for the successful run of their joint venture.  While she straightened up, she continued to talk.  She assumed that Joshua was listening.  But he was not.

Some movement had caught his eye.  From his comfortable perch on the couch he could just make out a piece of black wool that seemed to be undulating from behind a coffee bag.  He was mesmerized. For the life of him he could not understand why someone would have draped a piece of wool on the shelf.  Maybe he was still sleeping.  But that piece of wool seemed to be beckoning him.

With a quick glance to be sure that Eddy was otherwise occupied, Joshua slowly approached the wayward wool.  He was pretty sure he was over tired and hallucinating which is why he didn’t want to let Eddy know what he was doing.  After only half a dozen steps he could actually reach out towards his vision.  A fraction of an inch away from the piece of wool he stopped, inhaled deeply and thrust his hand forward.

“Ahhhhhhh! Oh my….!!!!  Call 911! It has eyes!” In his hurry to get away from the apparition, Joshua backed into a chair and sat down, hard.  The chair tilted back and he was on the floor with his legs in the air.  His mouth opened and closed repeatedly as he tried to speak.  All that came out was a guttural “Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!”

Eddy raced to his side and knelt down, concerned.  Her eyes followed the direction of his finger that was pointing in desperation at the path from which he had just fled. A small black figure raised its head and stared pointedly at the two people in the middle of the floor.  The demon in question then opened its mouth and uttered one syllable “Meow!”

With no regard for her fallen partner’s about to be bruised ego, Eddy burst out laughing hysterically.  She patted Joshua on the shoulder and then move towards the shelf.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding Sebastian.  I wondered where you’d been.”

The aptly named Sebastian was cleaning his whiskers when he was unceremoniously picked up.  Eddy cuddled the tiny black kitten with the big-name and turned to face poor Joshua.

“Did I forget to tell you that The Witch’s Brew has a mascot?  Sebastian this is Joshua.  Joshua meet Sebastian.”

Joshua could do nothing more than stare at what he thought was a demon.  It is doubtful that the small kitten weighed more than a pound or two.  He was completely black except for those mesmerizing green eyes and a very tiny pink tongue.

Eddy was nuzzling the furball and her voice was muffled.  “I know you love me Joshua, and I love you too but you have to love my cat as well.”

Stunned, Joshua stood up. “I do, you know, love you.  I always have.  I didn’t know you knew.” He approached Eddy and put his arm around her and the small kitten. “Yes, your little demon is lovely and what a wonderful idea for the shop.  I guess every Witch needs her familiar.” The two chuckled, comfortable with themselves and with each other.

“Well, I guess we have a lot of work to do and we had better get at it.” Joshua left the two after a few moments and continued on with tidying the café while Eddy continued to cuddle Sebastian. It was almost as if the two were in deep conversation.

“I think it’s going to work.  But no magic Sebastian, you have to remain a cat.  And I have to make sure he never finds out that I am a real witch.”

 

The end

At Peace?

She slowly made her way through the brush and the trailing  vines. She knew where she needed to be, she felt drawn to one spot and one spot only. She felt that she had been doing this for an eternity: every night the desperate need to be here.

Eventually she made it to the one place where she could sit and breathe. She desperately wished that she could remember. So much of her life was blank, unknown. She heaved a sigh and looked out at the heavenly vista displayed out in front of her. From this vantage point she could see the ocean with the waves crashing on the shore.  Dolphins frolicked in the surf. Large sea birds dived beneath the waves, returning seconds later with a fish squirming in their beaks.  She could see the forest and the deep restful green of its leaves. She was at peace here.

”Hello.”

For a moment she was startled, she’d never heard a voice here before. She started to stand up and turned towards the voice.

” You have nothing to worry about, I mean you no harm.  Please sit, I would like to talk to you.”

She did as she was instructed. She felt no fear, no anxiety. She felt….. calm.

The voice in question materialized into a young man, a young handsome man. He strode with purpose towards her and still she felt no concern.  He sat near her, crossed his legs and smiled. It was a lovely smile.

”I know why you come here every night. I know where you go everyday. I know your name.”

The woman who moments ago had been comfortable, even accepting of the things that she could not remember now came alive with the thought of knowing.

“Who am I?”

With these three little words her entire world changed. She was about to know the answer to things that she had not thought to question.

“Stacy Ann. Wife, mother, mother-in-law, grandmother, friend. All you ever wanted to be was Stacy, a woman. You were drawn in so many different directions. People needed you and you answered their call. You did everything for anyone and never took time for yourself. People loved the person you were at the moment. But they never knew who you really were.”

The woman now known as Stacy Ann looked sad. She glanced at her hands resting in her lap and with the small voice asked:

“Why?”

“It was the time.  It is what was expected of women at that time and you were the best of them. You knew the role you were expected play and you did exactly what was expected of you.”

Stacy looked up. There was a smile just lurking at the corners of her mouth.

“Something has changed. I’m not that woman anymore. I feel free. I feel blessed.”

The nameless gentlemen stood and offered his hand to Stacy Ann. Together they stood and faced the seat she had been sitting on for all this time.

“You’ve been given the time to notice the beauty that is everywhere around you. You were too busy before. Perhaps you have been enjoying the peace for the first time.  But now it is time to come home.

Stacy Ann look at what she thought was a bench that she had been sitting on and suddenly everything made sense. She was at peace.

Stacy Ann Cooper

Beloved Wife and Mother

Grandmother and Friend

You will be missed!

Born 1817

Died 1898