HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
May your day be filled with the love and warmth of family and friends together.
May your bodies be blessed with food that nourishes and comforts.
May your lives live out the gratitude on this special day of thanks.
Thursday, November 28, 2019
Thursday, November 21, 2019
WORDS TO LIVE BY
[I'm reposting because I spent a large part of the past two weeks getting little accomplished--part was due to flu, part to having workmen in the house replacing entry doors. After such extraordinary times, I needed a spiritual reset. Hope you enjoy this reminder from Mother Teresa.]
-----
-----
A hard copy of the above inspirations has resided on my kitchen bulletin board for years. From time to time I see it, half-covered by photos of my great-grandchildren, and I am reminded that there is a reason for me to endure what must be endured, to try to help where I can, and to continue to live and give and be. The last line says it all.
Have a blessed week.
[I'm reposting because I spent a large part of the past two weeks getting little accomplished--part was due to flu, part to having workmen in the house replacing entry doors. After such extraordinary times, I needed a spiritual reset. Hope you enjoy this reminder from Mother Teresa.]-----
The verses below reportedly were written on the wall of Mother Teresa's home for children in Calcutta, India, and are widely attributed to her.
Some sources say that the words below were written on the wall in Mother Teresa's own room. In any case, their association with Mother Teresa and the Missionaries of Charity has made them popular worldwide, expressing as they do, the spirit in which they lived their lives.
They seem to be based on a composition originally by Kent Keith, but much of the second half has been re-written in a more spiritual way.
----from prayerfoundation.org
QUICK INSPIRATIONS
People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered; forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, there may be jealousy; be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough; give the world the best you’ve got anyway.
You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God; it was never between you and them anyway.
[This version attributed to Mother Theresa.]
A hard copy of the above inspirations has resided on my kitchen bulletin board for years. From time to time I see it, half-covered by photos of my great-grandchildren, and I am reminded that there is a reason for me to endure what must be endured, to try to help where I can, and to continue to live and give and be. The last line says it all.
Have a blessed week.
Thursday, November 14, 2019
Your what hurts?
I am now nursing a sore back--the kind that causes me to walk bent over so I'm looking directly to the floor. Nothing much of interest down there on the floor, unless you consider dust bunnies and debris left by the workers (still here) and bits of fabric and thread that escaped from the sewing area.
Before you ask--I don't know what I did, or didn't do, or how I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time to end up with this malady.
(My grandmother would probably have said it was meanness coming out. Not that I was mean, that was just her way of saying, "these things happen." I think. I hope.)
Today marks the sixth day of this ongoing disability. I am not good with ill health. Nor with the inability to do my normal things. I have little patience for sick folks (just ask my kids), and even less with myself. A sore back isn't sick, for heaven's sake, more of a major annoyance.
-----
Naturally, given that I'm not 100% on top of things, this is the week for stuff to happen.
- my guys came to install new entry doors, with storm doors, on the three sides of my house where ingress and egress occurs. This is a several day process.
- I have two noontime knitting sessions with a friend; one has already been cancelled.
- yesterday was haircut day--rescheduled for the following week.
- I was two days late in getting the hymn list to the church office for next Sunday's bulletin.
- I wrote checks to pay bills, then missed the mailman's visit.
- extra-cold weather for the past and future few days dampened my interest in going anywhere--grocery store, post office drive-up box, church for my weekly sewing for the NICU babies.
-----
In the meantime, I leave you with some of the life lessons I learned (or maybe, relearned):
- Some people want to help--you just have to let them know. One of the guys who is installing doors (he's also the owner of the business) was on his way to Home Depot and asked if there was anything he could do for me. Could he stop by the Post Office and drop my bill payments in the box? He could.
- Most people will forgive you for not showing up--just make sure you tell them it's going to happen. (That's if you're not involved in an emergency. You know what I mean.) They have plans, too.
- Ask yourself (this is an oldie but a goodie)--what's the worst thing that can happen if you don't do your part? Only you can really answer that, but I figure the worst thing that can happen in my life is that people will realize that I'm human, not a machine, and therefore not 100% reliable. I'll do my share when, and if, I can; sometimes I'll go the extra mile. But--like all my fellow human beings, body parts wear out, just when you least expect them to.
-----
My back is improving, slowly, so by next week's installment of Thursday's Child I should be done with grunting, groaning, and whimpering. Or maybe not . . . I may get used to being pampered. (Assuming pampering comes along.)
Take care of yourself--and if you are visited by indisposition or infirmity, do your best to get through it with your sense of humor intact. Funny movies help. Also sentimental ones--I've already watched White Christmas because it snowed a few days ago (three inches of the stuff). Talk to people, surf the 'web, read a book you've always wanted to read (or re-read). And smile!
Talk to you soon!
I am now nursing a sore back--the kind that causes me to walk bent over so I'm looking directly to the floor. Nothing much of interest down there on the floor, unless you consider dust bunnies and debris left by the workers (still here) and bits of fabric and thread that escaped from the sewing area.
Before you ask--I don't know what I did, or didn't do, or how I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time to end up with this malady.
(My grandmother would probably have said it was meanness coming out. Not that I was mean, that was just her way of saying, "these things happen." I think. I hope.)
Today marks the sixth day of this ongoing disability. I am not good with ill health. Nor with the inability to do my normal things. I have little patience for sick folks (just ask my kids), and even less with myself. A sore back isn't sick, for heaven's sake, more of a major annoyance.
-----
Naturally, given that I'm not 100% on top of things, this is the week for stuff to happen.
- my guys came to install new entry doors, with storm doors, on the three sides of my house where ingress and egress occurs. This is a several day process.
- I have two noontime knitting sessions with a friend; one has already been cancelled.
- yesterday was haircut day--rescheduled for the following week.
- I was two days late in getting the hymn list to the church office for next Sunday's bulletin.
- I wrote checks to pay bills, then missed the mailman's visit.
- extra-cold weather for the past and future few days dampened my interest in going anywhere--grocery store, post office drive-up box, church for my weekly sewing for the NICU babies.
-----
In the meantime, I leave you with some of the life lessons I learned (or maybe, relearned):
- Some people want to help--you just have to let them know. One of the guys who is installing doors (he's also the owner of the business) was on his way to Home Depot and asked if there was anything he could do for me. Could he stop by the Post Office and drop my bill payments in the box? He could.
- Most people will forgive you for not showing up--just make sure you tell them it's going to happen. (That's if you're not involved in an emergency. You know what I mean.) They have plans, too.
- Ask yourself (this is an oldie but a goodie)--what's the worst thing that can happen if you don't do your part? Only you can really answer that, but I figure the worst thing that can happen in my life is that people will realize that I'm human, not a machine, and therefore not 100% reliable. I'll do my share when, and if, I can; sometimes I'll go the extra mile. But--like all my fellow human beings, body parts wear out, just when you least expect them to.
-----
My back is improving, slowly, so by next week's installment of Thursday's Child I should be done with grunting, groaning, and whimpering. Or maybe not . . . I may get used to being pampered. (Assuming pampering comes along.)
Take care of yourself--and if you are visited by indisposition or infirmity, do your best to get through it with your sense of humor intact. Funny movies help. Also sentimental ones--I've already watched White Christmas because it snowed a few days ago (three inches of the stuff). Talk to people, surf the 'web, read a book you've always wanted to read (or re-read). And smile!
Talk to you soon!
 |
| Couldn't resist sharing this one |
Thursday, November 7, 2019
BLESSINGS - INCOMING
Remember Bing Crosby's song in White Christmas?
"When I'm worried, and I can't sleep,
I count my blessings, instead of sheep,
and I fall asleep, counting my blessings."
Yes, it's a little early for Bing & Co. But it's never too early--nor too late--to count one's blessings. Here are some of mine:
1-5: a home of my own; family who keep in touch (we have so many ways to make contact); friends and acquaintances who keep me social; neighbors who keep me from thinking my way is the only right way to live; and good people who work on my house, attend to my yard, and wait on me when I do my shopping.
6-9: living in a small town that cares about its citizens; and a country that allows me the freedom to vote as I see fit; freedom to worship in public; choices when I visit shops.
10-15: a free public library that provides books, movies, recordings, as well as digital services, public programs, and art exhibits.
16-18: good health; if health breaks down, many opportunities for treatment in my community; good medical personnel, in many specialties; a YMCA with fitness equipment, walking/running tracks, and fitness programs for individual or group work.
19-20: opportunities to serve others; places to share joy through music and the written word.
-----
When I started this post, I realized it could easily get out of hand. The above list could go on and on and on . . . one blessing recalls another, and then another. Sometimes they're right in front of my face. Sometimes they're completely visible, but I'm looking the other way.
You don't have to make a list to count your blessings. Just think of three or four ways you know you are blessed. Before you realize it, you'll go far beyond those three or four.
Have a blessed week!
Remember Bing Crosby's song in White Christmas?"When I'm worried, and I can't sleep,
I count my blessings, instead of sheep,
and I fall asleep, counting my blessings."
Yes, it's a little early for Bing & Co. But it's never too early--nor too late--to count one's blessings. Here are some of mine:
1-5: a home of my own; family who keep in touch (we have so many ways to make contact); friends and acquaintances who keep me social; neighbors who keep me from thinking my way is the only right way to live; and good people who work on my house, attend to my yard, and wait on me when I do my shopping.
6-9: living in a small town that cares about its citizens; and a country that allows me the freedom to vote as I see fit; freedom to worship in public; choices when I visit shops.
10-15: a free public library that provides books, movies, recordings, as well as digital services, public programs, and art exhibits.
16-18: good health; if health breaks down, many opportunities for treatment in my community; good medical personnel, in many specialties; a YMCA with fitness equipment, walking/running tracks, and fitness programs for individual or group work.
19-20: opportunities to serve others; places to share joy through music and the written word.
-----
When I started this post, I realized it could easily get out of hand. The above list could go on and on and on . . . one blessing recalls another, and then another. Sometimes they're right in front of my face. Sometimes they're completely visible, but I'm looking the other way.
You don't have to make a list to count your blessings. Just think of three or four ways you know you are blessed. Before you realize it, you'll go far beyond those three or four.
Have a blessed week!
Thursday, October 31, 2019
LIGHT
[We're back to the subject of Light vs. Dark, as in the end of "daylight" time and return to "standard" time. When I read this post published a year ago, I couldn't think of anything more to add to the topic. I even enjoyed reading it again . . . hope you do, too.]
Three more days . . . and we're going to "gain an hour" by setting our clocks back before we go to bed. Or, if we're lucky enough to have current technology ticking away our minutes and hours, our atomic clocks, cell phones, and computers will do the changing for us.
That's all I'm going to say about going back to Standard Time.
And the only reason I bring it up at all is that for a little while, maybe a couple of weeks, we'll have sunrise in my neck of the woods around 7:00 AM.
Which means, in case you're not already asleep from this convoluted intro, that we will have a little more light in the morning, and not so much at night.
-----
Light, as a topic of interest, has intrigued me for a long time.
Who among us can say we've never--never--felt we were stumbling around in the dark?
It doesn't have to be literal darkness--power goes off, or light bulb burns out, or we're out camping and the only light is the campfire, so don't go wandering off to the latrine unless you have a flashlight.
Darkness can be metaphorical--we simply can't see/understand/perceive a way out of our dilemma. We often need someone to guide us back to the light.
At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.
The flip side of that metaphor is that each of us becomes the guide.
-----
I've never been a good traveler--going into the unknown was, and is, 'way beyond my comfort zone. (Pretty much everything is outside my comfort zone, but that's a story for another day.)
Anyway, when I found the above quotation from Christopher Columbus, who, in the 15th Century made numerous explorations by sea far from his homeland of Italy, I recognized in those eleven words a profound statement: We followed the sun, we left our home. But the important part is this: They followed the light of the sun. They didn't sail off into darkness. They may not have known exactly where they were going, but they followed the light.
I find that thought comforting.
-----
At first this would seem to be a Duh statement--but when Francis Bacon wrote it in his century, it held great truth: We recognize light only when we also know the darkness is there. It's the contrast that determines the brightness of the light.
And you don't have to be a creationist to understand that God brought light into being and separated it from the darkness--day and night.
Ursula K. LeGuin, an American author, expressed it this way:
Artists, especially painters, know the value of light and shadow. In fact, many painters make small "value studies" to indicate where color changes from light to dark.
May your days be filled with light.
 |
| Erasmus - 15th Century Dutch Christian humanist and scholar |
[We're back to the subject of Light vs. Dark, as in the end of "daylight" time and return to "standard" time. When I read this post published a year ago, I couldn't think of anything more to add to the topic. I even enjoyed reading it again . . . hope you do, too.]
Three more days . . . and we're going to "gain an hour" by setting our clocks back before we go to bed. Or, if we're lucky enough to have current technology ticking away our minutes and hours, our atomic clocks, cell phones, and computers will do the changing for us.
That's all I'm going to say about going back to Standard Time.
And the only reason I bring it up at all is that for a little while, maybe a couple of weeks, we'll have sunrise in my neck of the woods around 7:00 AM.
Which means, in case you're not already asleep from this convoluted intro, that we will have a little more light in the morning, and not so much at night.
-----
Light, as a topic of interest, has intrigued me for a long time.
Who among us can say we've never--never--felt we were stumbling around in the dark?
It doesn't have to be literal darkness--power goes off, or light bulb burns out, or we're out camping and the only light is the campfire, so don't go wandering off to the latrine unless you have a flashlight.
Darkness can be metaphorical--we simply can't see/understand/perceive a way out of our dilemma. We often need someone to guide us back to the light.
 |
| Edith Wharton - American Author - 1862-1937 |
Albert Schweitzer
The flip side of that metaphor is that each of us becomes the guide.
A smile is the light in your window that tells others that there is a caring, sharing person inside.
Denis Waitley
-----
I've never been a good traveler--going into the unknown was, and is, 'way beyond my comfort zone. (Pretty much everything is outside my comfort zone, but that's a story for another day.)
Anyway, when I found the above quotation from Christopher Columbus, who, in the 15th Century made numerous explorations by sea far from his homeland of Italy, I recognized in those eleven words a profound statement: We followed the sun, we left our home. But the important part is this: They followed the light of the sun. They didn't sail off into darkness. They may not have known exactly where they were going, but they followed the light.
I find that thought comforting.
-----
 |
Francis Bacon - English - 1561-1626
|
And you don't have to be a creationist to understand that God brought light into being and separated it from the darkness--day and night.
Ursula K. LeGuin, an American author, expressed it this way:
 |
| American novelist - 1929-2018 |
Artists, especially painters, know the value of light and shadow. In fact, many painters make small "value studies" to indicate where color changes from light to dark.
May your days be filled with light.
Thursday, October 24, 2019
GIVE ME PATIENCE . . .
The rest of that little petition goes, "and give it to me NOW!"
Last week's post about wishing for autumn colors to fill my world reminded me that I could do with a good dose of Patience. Capsule, liquid, painted on . . . whatever works, the faster, the better.
I'm happy to report the trees are getting into their autumnal clothing, and more and more of them are dressed in every color on the wheel, except blue--that's in the sky. (October-blue ought to be a crayon in the big box.) And I have to admit, my very public whine last week had very little to do with autumn colors appearing.
-----
Let's talk about Patience--that's a virtue, right? As children, we were encouraged (in various tones of voice) to just be patient--Santa is coming, school is almost over, your birthday is nearly here . . . . Then we had to endure adolescence and its endless waiting--for school to be over for good, to be old enough to drive (or drink alcohol), to find the one person we wanted to spend our life with, to find a job and make a lot of money. (We did dream big, didn't we?)
There was the long, long, looooooong wait for a baby to be born. (Did anyone ever discover why nine months is so much longer than a year?)
Adult waiting-with-patience seems to lurk around every corner of life. Patience while the children grow and explore and discover and nearly get themselves in deep do-do, or hot water. Patience while a spouse goes through a life crisis--family problems, health issues, job concerns.
Everybody has had to wait in line for something or other--at the bank, the pharmacy, the movie theater. Somebody always has advice about how to endure such waiting--nowadays, it seems everybody just glues to the phone and reads texts or sends messages. (However, some of the big stores now offer us self-checkout; beats waiting in line, huh?)
Then there's Patience with oneself during times of doubt and worry and discouragement. Will this ever end, we ask? Am I doomed to live like this until I finally wither on the vine? Will the workout program or the yoga ever make a difference?
-----
Have you ever watched a fisherman with a line in the water? (I never had the patience to wait for a bite.)
Or how about a kid watching the cookies bake through the glass door in the oven?
And then there's the teddy bear or blankie running through the wash and dry cycles . . . . Charles Schulz got a lot of mileage out of Linus and his anxiety over the blankie in the dryer.
Most of us experience a modicum of impatience while waiting for the latest update to load on our phones or computers.
Gardeners are among the most patient people I know--my family has two avid gardeners. They till the soil, plant (and sometimes replant more than once when rain torrents down and washes everything away), water the plants in dry times, weed, chase critters and birds away--all in the expectation of crops to can and freeze and preserve when summer's waning. Their patience is rewarded--I can attest to the delicious results--and many of us receive jars of homegrown food for Christmas gifts.
-----
Yes, Patience exists. I've had it (fleetingly) throughout my life. Now that I'm slower of foot and possibly even kinder of thought, I find Patience easier to access.
The big challenge now is to discover how to slow down the clock so we can enjoy the waiting. I can be patient, I promise. But really--only two months till Christmas?!
The rest of that little petition goes, "and give it to me NOW!"
Last week's post about wishing for autumn colors to fill my world reminded me that I could do with a good dose of Patience. Capsule, liquid, painted on . . . whatever works, the faster, the better.
I'm happy to report the trees are getting into their autumnal clothing, and more and more of them are dressed in every color on the wheel, except blue--that's in the sky. (October-blue ought to be a crayon in the big box.) And I have to admit, my very public whine last week had very little to do with autumn colors appearing.
-----
Let's talk about Patience--that's a virtue, right? As children, we were encouraged (in various tones of voice) to just be patient--Santa is coming, school is almost over, your birthday is nearly here . . . . Then we had to endure adolescence and its endless waiting--for school to be over for good, to be old enough to drive (or drink alcohol), to find the one person we wanted to spend our life with, to find a job and make a lot of money. (We did dream big, didn't we?)
There was the long, long, looooooong wait for a baby to be born. (Did anyone ever discover why nine months is so much longer than a year?)
Adult waiting-with-patience seems to lurk around every corner of life. Patience while the children grow and explore and discover and nearly get themselves in deep do-do, or hot water. Patience while a spouse goes through a life crisis--family problems, health issues, job concerns.
Everybody has had to wait in line for something or other--at the bank, the pharmacy, the movie theater. Somebody always has advice about how to endure such waiting--nowadays, it seems everybody just glues to the phone and reads texts or sends messages. (However, some of the big stores now offer us self-checkout; beats waiting in line, huh?)
Then there's Patience with oneself during times of doubt and worry and discouragement. Will this ever end, we ask? Am I doomed to live like this until I finally wither on the vine? Will the workout program or the yoga ever make a difference?
-----
Have you ever watched a fisherman with a line in the water? (I never had the patience to wait for a bite.)Or how about a kid watching the cookies bake through the glass door in the oven?
And then there's the teddy bear or blankie running through the wash and dry cycles . . . . Charles Schulz got a lot of mileage out of Linus and his anxiety over the blankie in the dryer.
Most of us experience a modicum of impatience while waiting for the latest update to load on our phones or computers.
Gardeners are among the most patient people I know--my family has two avid gardeners. They till the soil, plant (and sometimes replant more than once when rain torrents down and washes everything away), water the plants in dry times, weed, chase critters and birds away--all in the expectation of crops to can and freeze and preserve when summer's waning. Their patience is rewarded--I can attest to the delicious results--and many of us receive jars of homegrown food for Christmas gifts.
-----
Yes, Patience exists. I've had it (fleetingly) throughout my life. Now that I'm slower of foot and possibly even kinder of thought, I find Patience easier to access.
The big challenge now is to discover how to slow down the clock so we can enjoy the waiting. I can be patient, I promise. But really--only two months till Christmas?!
Thursday, October 17, 2019
WISHING . . .
Today is October 17th, on the downhill slide to the end of the month. And I'm wishing for autumn colors. Outside my big window I see nothing but green--lots of different shades and tints, but still, green.
A couple of my favorite trees in town have made a half-hearted attempt to color up. Half-hearted, I say, because there's a small area of colored leaves, and the rest, about 85%, still green.
Leaf color, I've read, comes about because of a couple of factors: (1) less light as autumn days "grow shorter," and (2) changes in temperature. Chlorophyll breaks down and the leaves stop the food-making process. Ergo, less green, more red/orange/yellow.
Okay, so I get up in the dark, and I go to bed in the dark. Sometimes I eat supper while the sky changes from day to night. I can attest to less light. Temperature? Our highs are ranging from 49 to 70 during the next 10 days. We certainly have changes, but consistently lower temps haven't found their way to my neck of the woods.
Looks like I'll be wishing for leaf color for a while yet.
Clearly, wishing for the leaves to turn their autumn colors is not going to have much effect. I can wish with all my might, pray without ceasing, and do any happy dance I can contrive--won't affect the leaves at all. (Magic wands don't work for me, either.)
-----
A better use of my time might be sending "good wishes" to folks who need support or encouragement. Notes, emails, texts, phone calls . . . . And there's always prayer time to petition for good results, happy events.
Or offering up gratitude for blessings I enjoy--especially the ones I didn't work for or earn. Maybe that's the best definition of a blessing--a benefit unsought; a grace bestowed.
-----
As a much younger person, I know I wished for things--material goods, what I wanted to take place, a sudden bodily makeover (never did get taller, no matter how much I wished).
Sometime along the way, the obvious began to sink in--if I wanted something a lot, I ought to throw away my magic lamp and think about working for it. Earn the money to buy the material goods--a house or car, clothing appropriate to my job; consider the event I wanted to happen to see if it really was a good thing for me--did I really want to be a best-selling author, devoting time to publicizing my book? As for the makeover, I (wisely) gave up on that one; I can affect my strength and stamina, even find a hair style that isn't too weird for my age and stage in life, but the only way I'll be taller is to go back to wearing three-inch heels. My feet tell me that's out of the question. (I always listen to my feet.)
-----
There's an old saying: "If wishes were horses, then peasants would ride." The occasion it was used would often be to a child who "wished" for something.
So, what's the point of wishing, you ask?
Maybe wishing is related to vision--seeing possibilities in the future. Perhaps encouraging ourselves to try something different.
Maybe it's also related to hope--we keep hope alive, until it becomes clear that what we wished for, what we hoped for, isn't going to become fact. (The important part is that we continue to hope.) And we can learn something about ourselves--an important life lesson.
The best lesson--the one that stays with me always--is that what I wish for may not be the best thing for me; but what I get, is always the best. Thanks be.
 |
| Not my house...but definitely "my" tree |
Today is October 17th, on the downhill slide to the end of the month. And I'm wishing for autumn colors. Outside my big window I see nothing but green--lots of different shades and tints, but still, green.
A couple of my favorite trees in town have made a half-hearted attempt to color up. Half-hearted, I say, because there's a small area of colored leaves, and the rest, about 85%, still green.
Leaf color, I've read, comes about because of a couple of factors: (1) less light as autumn days "grow shorter," and (2) changes in temperature. Chlorophyll breaks down and the leaves stop the food-making process. Ergo, less green, more red/orange/yellow.
Okay, so I get up in the dark, and I go to bed in the dark. Sometimes I eat supper while the sky changes from day to night. I can attest to less light. Temperature? Our highs are ranging from 49 to 70 during the next 10 days. We certainly have changes, but consistently lower temps haven't found their way to my neck of the woods.
Looks like I'll be wishing for leaf color for a while yet.
Clearly, wishing for the leaves to turn their autumn colors is not going to have much effect. I can wish with all my might, pray without ceasing, and do any happy dance I can contrive--won't affect the leaves at all. (Magic wands don't work for me, either.)-----
A better use of my time might be sending "good wishes" to folks who need support or encouragement. Notes, emails, texts, phone calls . . . . And there's always prayer time to petition for good results, happy events.
Or offering up gratitude for blessings I enjoy--especially the ones I didn't work for or earn. Maybe that's the best definition of a blessing--a benefit unsought; a grace bestowed.
-----
As a much younger person, I know I wished for things--material goods, what I wanted to take place, a sudden bodily makeover (never did get taller, no matter how much I wished).
Sometime along the way, the obvious began to sink in--if I wanted something a lot, I ought to throw away my magic lamp and think about working for it. Earn the money to buy the material goods--a house or car, clothing appropriate to my job; consider the event I wanted to happen to see if it really was a good thing for me--did I really want to be a best-selling author, devoting time to publicizing my book? As for the makeover, I (wisely) gave up on that one; I can affect my strength and stamina, even find a hair style that isn't too weird for my age and stage in life, but the only way I'll be taller is to go back to wearing three-inch heels. My feet tell me that's out of the question. (I always listen to my feet.)
-----
There's an old saying: "If wishes were horses, then peasants would ride." The occasion it was used would often be to a child who "wished" for something.
So, what's the point of wishing, you ask?
Maybe wishing is related to vision--seeing possibilities in the future. Perhaps encouraging ourselves to try something different.
Maybe it's also related to hope--we keep hope alive, until it becomes clear that what we wished for, what we hoped for, isn't going to become fact. (The important part is that we continue to hope.) And we can learn something about ourselves--an important life lesson.
The best lesson--the one that stays with me always--is that what I wish for may not be the best thing for me; but what I get, is always the best. Thanks be.
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