Thursday, April 27, 2017


Thursday’s Child:
Some years ago, Liz Flaherty quoted William Martin's poem "Making the Ordinary Come Alive" and I saved it to read over and over. In searching for the poem to share with you today, I came upon this short meditation by David Lose on his blog, “. . . in the Meantime.” I hope you enjoy what he says.

David Lose:

I don’t have a lot to say about the following poem. Sometimes that’s the only fit response when you encounter sheer wisdom. There is nothing to say, just a great deal to ponder.

William Martin’s counsel isn’t only for parents to children, I believe, but for all of us. For how can we give or ask for that which we haven’t experienced ourselves. And so before we can invite our children to see the extraordinary in the ordinary, we ourselves need to practice that discipline.

A meal cooked by a friend. The quiet fidelity of a spouse. A warm fire to banish for a moment the chill of winter. A good book. A shoulder to cry on. A hand to hold. Crocus – soon, we pray! – bursting through the snow. A quite (sic) moment to rest and reflect. A poem that makes you sit up and take notice.

Each of these is a small, even mundane thing. Yet each also has the capacity, if we are open to it, to usher us into an experience of grace, when God’s goodness presents itself not as a prize to be sought but a gift to be received. May it be so with our children…and with us.

Make the Ordinary Come Alive

Do not ask your children
to strive for extraordinary lives.
Such striving may seem admirable,
but it is a way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find the wonder
and the marvel of an ordinary life.
Show them the joy of tasting
tomatoes, apples, and pears.
Show them how to cry
when pets and people die.
Show them the infinite pleasure
in the touch of a hand.
And make the ordinary come alive for them.
The extraordinary will take care of itself.

[Thank you, Liz, for sharing this poem.]


  1. I'd forgotten it, but thanks so much for the reminder. I still love the words and still cherish ordinary.

  2. Me, too. So many ordinary things to cherish...they keep on connecting us.