Book Tag

Mamalee, over at Full Plate tagged me. Now, not knowing what proper "tag" etiquette is (can I ignore it? will a plague be visited upon my house if I do? what happens if I don't send it out to three people?) and having the means at hand, I decided to participate. Of course, I also had an ulterior motive - to "advertise" some of my favorite books!

The "rules" for the 123Meme are as follows:

For those tagged, here's what you've got to do:

1. Grab the closest book to you.
2. Open to page 123, look down to the 5th sentence.
3. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog.
4. Include the title and the author's name.
5. Tag 3 people.

Well, this morning I finished a book for a book club I belong to. The book was right next to my computer when I read the tag. For tonight's discussion we are reading complementary titles, one of which I am quite passionate about and have discussed in one of my early blog entries, Blood Done Sign My Name.

The other is a well known book that I have read before. When I asked my children if either had a copy that I could borrow to read, they both offered me copies; my daughter said it was her favorite book (and that she wanted her copy back!) Here are the three sentences from page 123, as required by the tag "rules":

"Slowly, painfully, the ten dollars was collected. The door was opened, and the gust of warm air revived us. Zeebo lined On Jordan's Stormy Banks, and church was over."

Of course, this is from To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. If you haven't read it in a few years, do yourself a favor and read it again. If you have never read it, please, please do! It is a beautiful, but non-sentimental story, of the Depression-era South - with all the innocence, prejudice and moral crises of the time. It is also the story of a family, of a single father raising his two children and how he teaches them values in his own quiet manner. Gregory Peck won an Oscar for his starring role in the film, based on the book - a film that did justice to the book. While you're at it, find Blood Done Sign My Name. I don't know anyone who has read it and not been changed by it.

As for tag etiquette - I'm more of the mind that you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. So consider yourself tagged if you have a particular book you would like to share. Let me know in the comments. I'll be looking for at least three of you!

"Christmas" or Christmas?

Letter from Jesus:

It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season. Maybe you've forgotten that I wasn't actually born during this time of the year and that it was some of your predecessors who decided to celebrate My birthday on what was actually a time of pagan festival. Although I do appreciate being remembered anytime.

How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth just, GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER. Now, having said that, let Me go on.

If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all My followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.

Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can and may remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: I actually spoke of that one in a teaching, explaining who I am in relation to you and what each of our tasks were. If you have forgotten that one, look up John 15:1-8.

If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it.

1. Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.

2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.

3. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.

5. Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.

6. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take their own life this season because they feel so alone and hopeless? Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile - it could make the difference. Also, you might consider supporting the local suicide hot-line: they talk with people like that every day.

7. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn't make so much money on that day they'd close and let their employees spend the day at home with their families.

8. Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them (and I suspect you don't) buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Marines, the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me and they will make the delivery for you.

9. Finally if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine.

PS - Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above and get to work; time is short. I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love and remember,

I LOVE YOU - Jesus

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

A friend emailed me the above and I got a good chuckle out of it. But then I started thinking - always a dangerous thing, I know, LOL. There are a lot of truths in it. Yes, I know the ACLU and other organizations are trying to "shut down" religious references in public. Christmas bears the largest brunt of this effort because Christians are the largest religious group in America. (for an explanation of the ORIGIN of the phrase "separation of church and state" please look to my reply in comments section of Don't Drag ME into This!; 19th comment down, or so, with posting time of 6:14 AM.)

The Bible teaches Christians to "do good" in secret and to not be boastful. When did everything get to the point where we are clamoring for public displays of nativity scenes and menorahs and God knows what else? When did it become important which religion had more or bigger or equivalent symbols out there? There are other ways to stand up for your faith besides all this silly bickering that is in the newspapers every other day.

I am Christian, but I think my thoughts would apply to other religious groups. Is it my town's job to bring Christmas to me? Or is it MY job, as a Christian, to bring what Christmas teaches me to the world? A "Christmas" tree - not so important. A Christmas meal and gifts delivered to an underprivileged family - very important. A "Christmas" nativity scene in the village square - not so important. Attending a Christmas church service with gratitude and love in our hearts - very important. The furor caused because a salesperson is mandated to wish us happy holidays instead of Merry "Christmas" - not so important. Treating everyone we meet with respect, patience and a smile - very important.

Whether you substitute Chanukah and menorah, or other religions and symbols, I think it all boils down to one thing. Don't look at what the world "owes" your faith - but look to find what good your faith can bring TO the world.

Merry Christmas!

A small santons crèche that I keep out all year round.
Santon means "little saint" and is a type of folk art
from the Provence region of France.
For an idea of the scale, the sheep is only an inch, tip to tail.

Don't Drag ME into This!

Several weeks ago, before the election, I read an article written the day after the NJ Supreme Court ruled that gay couples were entitled to the same legal/financial rights and benefits as heterosexual couples. President Bush's quote caught my eye. He reiterated his stance that marriage was a union between a man and a woman and said:

''Yesterday in New Jersey, we had another activist court issue a ruling that raises doubts about the institution of marriage. . . I believe it's a sacred institution that is critical to the health of our society and the well-being of families, and it must be defended."

Sacred? Defended against what?

I started thinking about this from my vantage point of 28 very happy years in a heterosexual marriage. When we got our marriage license at our local municipality, there was nothing sacred about it, just an exchange of paperwork, money and blood test results. Come to think about it, I'm not even sure we're legally married! A friend came with us as our required witness. She had to fill out a form where she had to put down how long she knew us. She put down ten years. I just gave her an incredulous look and we finished up. Out of earshot of the county clerk's office I asked her WHY she had lied and put down ten years when she had known us for four years. She said she was afraid that they wouldn't give us the license if she didn't put down that she knew us for a really long time. We were all hysterical laughing! To this day, we kid her about it. The next week our civil union was followed with a church ceremony.

But back to serious matters - the president's use of the word sacred bothered me. Merriam-Webster Online shows multiple definitions for "sacred," three being related to religion and one meaning "highly valued and important." I wonder which version of "sacred" President Bush meant? As the leader of this diverse nation, with separation of church and state part of the fabric of our country, I hope it was not any of the religious meanings. If he meant that marriage is "valued and important," well, yes, I agree with that. What I don't understand is, if marriage is "critical to the health of our society and the well-being of families," then why not try to include as many people as you can?

I also don't understand the part about how marriage "must be defended." Against what? I have read and heard people talk about how allowing gay people to marry will change their own marriages. I can't see this at all. My marriage is between my husband and me, thank you - it is certainly not going to be affected by what someone else does with their relationship. Could anyone seriously think that any of the following could possibly be true:

"Oh, Honey, a married gay couple just moved in next door - I can't deal with it, I'm going to have to divorce you."
"Dear, that married gay couple looks happier than us - I'm going to try being gay for awhile."
"Oh, no, a married gay couple in the neighborhood, keep the children away, it may be contagious!"

I really don't get it. Defend against WHAT? I'd appreciate it if someone could tell me how someone else's loving and committed family could be a bad thing for me or my family. I can't even imagine a scenario where a gay marriage would affect my own.

As for the school situation where a child has two "mommies" or two "daddies" - teaching tolerance and respect for all other people can only be a plus. Having a child who needed special education services because of learning disabilities, I am aware that there is far too much taunting and bullying that goes on in schools. If tolerance and ethical behavior were taught in every classroom, it is my opinion that this country would be in much better shape.

I would love to see a system where the government issued only civil union licenses, giving all couples the same legal and financial benefits. Then, if a couple wanted to pursue a religious marriage ceremony, that would be for them to work out with their own religious institution.

So for the record, President Bush, my husband and I are doing quite well. We really do not need any defending from gay couples, families with gay parents, or any of the gay people legally married in Massachusetts. Maybe you can concentrate on more pressing matters that we do need defending from - things like terrorists, the cost of healthcare, or the tax structure that favors the very wealthy.

Dona Nobis Pacem - Grant Us Peace

"There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Jesus Christ." Galatians 3:28 NRSV

Whether you believe in Christ or not is immaterial to the meaning of the verse. African, Asian, Australian, European, North or South American - we are all members of the human race - we all have the same DNA. One's country, social standing, wealth or gender does not make one person more "valuable" than another. Yet, everyday, people are killed senselessly, without a thought to the fact that each one is a precious person.

I am greatly troubled by the war and violence throughout the world. Three more soldiers dead in Iraq today; one newborn baby found dead in a recycling plant by workers sorting through paper; rape and killing continuing in Darfur. Everyday we see too many examples of inhumanity in our country and around the world - both within countries and between countries.

What can we do? Sometimes it all seems so depressing and daunting, the quest for peace. I started thinking about some of the the generic things we can do. We can vote. We can write letters to our representatives voicing our opinion. We can write letters to the editor of our local paper.

I spent the morning pondering what else I could do to make a difference in the world. I was in the grocery store parking lot and a woman was turning into the spot next to mine. There was a shopping cart in the way that she hadn't seen when pulling in. I put my hand up for her to stop and I moved the cart out of the way. She gave me a big, cheery and very surprised sounding "Thank you so much!" I had barely gone out of my way - yet she was so appreciative. That's when it hit me. I may not be able to stop the war in Iraq, single-handedly - but I can do a kindness for my neighbor. Isn't being kind to one another what peace is all about?

I challenge you all to do a kindness a day. Just one. Volunteer at a soup kitchen. Compliment someone. Donate blood. Go without a meal and donate the money to a charity. Give up a seat on the bus to someone who looks more tired than you feel. Leave a supermarket coupon on the shelf where someone else can use it. Let the mom juggling a baby go ahead of you at the bank. Use your imagination. Your kindness might turn someone's day around - it might even cause a chain reaction of kind acts.

It will take time and effort to achieve peace in the world. But meanwhile, we can try to achieve peace in our hearts and in our towns.

Many thanks to Mimi for her wonderful dream and call to action for world peace. Dona Nobis Pacem.

Namaste

Blood Done Sign My Name

Well, I've tried thinking of things to write about in this brandy-new blog of mine. But every time I do, my mind heads to the same place. So I have no choice but to share a bit about a non-fiction book I read recently. It's not a clever or fun topic, so I understand if you pass this one by. But I really do hope you read on.

Blood Done Sign My Name by Tim Tyson, was the book selected for this year's "One Read" program, at my son's college. I can't say the last time I was so affected by a book - it gave me the chills. Tyson, who grew up in Oxford, NC, relates the story of how his friend's father - a white shop owner - chased, beat and murdered a young black Army veteran in cold blood. I was thinking how horrible the racial strife was in the South and how I'm glad those days are long over. Until I read that this murder occurred in 1970. I couldn't get over the fact that this happened in MY lifetime. My goodness, I remember 1970!

Tyson fleshes out the book with his personal experiences, growing up as the son of a minister during the fight for civil rights. Now an adult who is a Professor of African-American History, he has placed his experience within a historical context. He talks about how English law originally stated that the status of a child, free or slave, was the same as the status of its father, However the American slave owners changed the the law so that the status of a child derived from the mother. When a white slave owner fathered children with his slaves, not only were there no repercussions, but the slave owner was increasing his slave population, or his property holdings. Tyson talks about the history of slavery in this country - and how the crime of slavery was so great that the monstrous lie of white supremacy was devised to ease the white conscience. Well, I knew the crime of slavery was huge, of course - but I never recognized it as the reason for the birth of white supremacy. It all makes sense, doesn't it? I was a math/science person, never liked history and I guess I never put it all together until I read this book. What an admission of my stupidity! In my own defense though, I don't think the history books of 40 years ago delved into the matter in quite the same way as BLOOD.

Tyson, a white man, relates how he saw black people being treated as less than human, not so very long ago. He talks about what his father did to aid the civil rights movement through the pulpit. He discusses segregation, which resulted from the big taboo, of needing to keep black men away from white women - because of the old idea of a child's status being derived from the mother, how could one then justify keeping down a child born of a white mother and a black father? He also discusses the continuing intellectual and emotional toll on black people, caused by the idea of white supremacy.

The book is full of Tyson's observations and includes many interviews with those involved in the civil rights movement. He is able to discuss the civil rights movement extensively as an eyewitness; the peaceful marches, as well as the violence used to gain equality. Civil rights were never just "generously" bestowed on black people by the whites - they were a hard fought and hard earned "right."

When we went to Parents Weekend at my son's school, they had a Parents Book Club discussion about BLOOD. The large lounge was SRO and the refrain I kept hearing was "I can't believe I was so ignorant of what was really happening." That is exactly what I thought. I'm now 50, just three years older than Dr. Tyson. I grew up in NYC and had friends of all colors. I never considered myself a racist. But when I finished this book, I really had to take a good, hard look at myself. The following from the book really hit home for me - "Many people who care are mired in guilt, as if the agonies of history could be undone by angst." I care and I feel guilt, but I don't even know why and I'm sure it doesn't serve any purpose. I am first generation in this country; my parents are from France. Perhaps I feel guilt because I know my parents to harbor various degrees of racism? Perhaps I feel guilt for just being white and having a white person's privileges? Or is the guilt there because I see the injustice still existing today and have not stepped up to do anything constructive about it?

I am still reeling from this book - it has altered a perspective that I did not think needed altering. I have asked my family to read it - my husband was just as affected by it. It should be required reading in every high school. But what are the chances of that happening? Every high school in NC now has a classroom set of BLOOD with a study guide. It's a start. I have called my local school district to ask them to consider putting this book in the humanities curriculum. It is a gripping book, but very readable because of the personal context. If you get the chance to read it I guarantee you will not come through the experience unchanged.

I guess we still haven't come as far as we pat ourselves on the back for, when it comes to equality for all Americans.

Addendum - Just reread this post this morning - I don't want to give the impression that this was a dry book of just legalities and interviews. This is Dr. Tyson's engrossing memoir of growing up in Oxford, from the age of 10 to young adulthood. It is a life story, placed within the greater context of the civil rights movement. I don't care what color you are, it is a book not to be missed - and no, I am not getting any kickback royalties on it. Shucks.

A Beautiful Day

It was a beautiful day. The sky was a deep blue, with no clouds to water down the brilliant color. The weather was somewhere between warm and crisp - past summer's heat, but not chilly enough to require a sweater. You couldn't ask for a finer day.

I had gone to work and was glazing a client's master bath, about eighteen feet up on a scaffold. I was concentrating on the decorative painting and listening to my discman. All of a sudden my cell phone rang, which was unusual. My children were in high school; my husband was at work in the city. It was my daughter screaming "Where's daddy, where's daddy?" I was confused and told her he was in the city. She kept screaming at me "I know, but WHERE in the city?" I told her he was probably at corporate, and I asked her to calm down and tell me what was going on. She told me about the WTC getting "bombed" - details were still sketchy. She calmed down a little when I told her that her father was uptown and I told her I would try to call him. I was on my hands and knees on the scaffold, shaking and not trusting myself to be able to climb down. I knew when he went in for a corporate meeting they frequently had off-site breakfasts or presentations. He could be anywhere. No luck reaching him. Then my daughter called again and told me about the Pentagon. I couldn’t begin to understand what was happening.

My client came in from her tennis lesson and told me New York City had been attacked. She turned on the TV, but I was too frantic trying to reach my husband to watch. My husband's secretary finally called - they had been able to get a call out from corporate to my husband's office and she in turn was calling families to let us know our loved ones were okay.

My first instinct was to get my children and keep them safe at home. But was home safe anymore? I decided the distraction of being in class and with their friends was better than watching the horror on TV. I went back to work, so that I wouldn’t have to think; art has that power, to absorb one’s being.

When I finally got home and turned on the TV, my brain couldn’t take it all in. The wound in this city I was born and raised in, my city - where everything between Wall Street and Ft. Tryon Park had been part of my playground growing up. I could only watch the news for short bits at a time. We went to a special church service. We came home and watched again, all the while not believing, not understanding. I can still feel the love and community of that day – also the sorrow, grief and helplessness. For months after, the NY Times printed daily pages with a small picture and bio of each of the victims. I read every single one and said a silent prayer for each of them and their families. How could I not?

In the years to follow, whenever there was an especially spectacular fall day, I could never figure out why a chill would suddenly run through me. In 2004, I finally realized it was because of the similarity to that beautiful day, 9/11/01. I thought it was just me, that I was being freakishly sensitive. But no, after speaking to many other New Yorkers, I find it is a too-common eerie feeling.

I’m not a poet or a writer. I’m just a New Yorker. I am so very proud of my city, all it has overcome, how life and living continues despite the immense shadow of those towers that no longer exist. I can’t forget the enormous evil, the murder of all those poor souls. To echo the bumper stickers I still see every day, “I will never forget.” 9/11 is never very far from my consciousness, or any New Yorker's.

Today was another beautiful and perfect fall day. But here it is, five years later, and the wound is still as raw as if it happened yesterday. We lost 2,948 people - people like you and me - on 9/11. We have lost another 2,657 service men and women in Iraq since then. When does it end?