Sometimes,
between the wall that divides us,
grows a single rose.
Being Less Blind
He started with a solo
unexpected, unplanned
It was more than a quartet when others joined in.
A sad event in American history
a funeral
an amazing song by Joan Baez
incredible drawing and animation
and a wonderful memory and reminder of the compassion of
President Barack Obama.
via Quartet
Growing Into Your Skin
I face less fears than I once did
those growing pains while still a kid
have turned into a pyramid
of learning tools and skills.
– C. Dennis-Willingham ©
daily word prompt: Faceless
If More of Us Would Follow in His Footsteps
Over 25 years ago, I had the great pleasure of meeting this true celebrity. He was the real deal – the same person I saw on PBS stood before me, thanked me for my service to young children, had his assistant take our picture (when he noticed my disappointment that I hadn’t brought my camera), and reminded my mother of the importance of being a grandmother.
A few weeks later, as promised, I received the photos in the mail.
To this man, no person was “foreign.” They were someone that he had not yet had the pleasure to meet.
I just bought the new “forever” postage stamp.
Also watch for upcoming films about him and his limitless love for humanity.
Thank you, Mr. Rogers. You are still an inspiration.
via Foreign
Dumbest Teacher
The first day of school, I’m sitting in the back hoping she won’t see me. But she does.
“Cono,” she says, “Sit on up here in front, where I can keep’n eye on you-uh.”
I hate it when she says “you-uh,” like it’s two words instead of one.
Mrs. Berry doesn’t like anything I do. She doesn’t like the way I look, the way I walk, the way I smell, the way I put on my shoes. Well, I don’t like her neither. She stares at me with the corner of her crinkled up eyes, just to find something else she doesn’t like.
“Cono, you’re pressin‘ down too hard with that pencil, you’re gonna break it.” “Cono, I can barely read what you’re writing, it looks invisible.” “Cono, you-uh got something to say or don’t ya?”
She thinks that she’s higher and mightier than God Jesus himself. She walks with her nose so far up in the air that, if she were a turkey, she’d drown. Turkey’s do that. They’re so stupid that if it starts raining, they look up to see what’s dropping on them and sniff!. That’s all it takes. They’ve plumb drown in a drop of rain. You’d think they would have caught on after a while. Like they would have seen their loved ones plop down dead after looking up, that they’d be onto something. No way. They ever look up just to see the pretty stars? Nah. They only look up when it’s raining. Sniff!
The only thing dumber than a turkey is the man that owns them and he’s dumber than a box’a hammers. Just like Mrs. Berry and Principal Pall.
Excerpt from No Hill for a Stepper by C. Dennis-Willingham
image credit
via Invisible
Nope, Not Me
You Can’t Rush the Blush
The conditions, in its favor
The moment of magic, short-lived
But when it happens, we all stop
to look
to admire
to take pictures for safe-keeping that will always be a reminder –
There might not always be a pot of gold, but if you remember to look,
there will always be something that will blush for our benefit.
via Blush
“Eternity Don’t Sound So Good”
It’s Sunday, revival time at the Baptist church. I don’t like it much, but the punch and cookies are good, that is if I can hold my patience until the end when all the “amen-ing” is done.
I stuff those cookies in my mouth two at a time. “Gracious me, Cono,” says Mrs. Allridge, “looks like you ain’t eaten anything for a month.”
Almost every time I get to one of those revivals, the grownups say, “Cono, don’t you want to be saved?”
“From what?” I say.
“Why the Devil hisself,” they say and then they add a bunch of amen’s to go along with it.
Unless they’re thinking about my Dad being the Devil, I just say, “No thank you.”
“But what are you waitin for? We could baptize you right now and all your sins would be forgiven and you would have eternal life.”
As far as sinning goes, I guess I’ve done my fair share of it, Amen.
“What’s eternal mean?” I ask.
“Well, it means you’ll live forever with Jesus right next to you.”
I picture Jesus standing right next to me, while I was thunk, thunk, thunkin’ on a woodpile forever and ever into eternity. And it doesn’t appeal to me one iota. Last year when we lived with Aunt Nolie, I didn’t have much chopping to do. But now, I have to chop all the time, Chop, chop to make sure Mother has enough wood for the cookstove at the Tourist Court. Chop, chop so Dad won’t lay into me.
Anyway, I’ve heard stories about how some churches take a poor person’s last dime, so they can put more gold up by the Jesus statue. Then, a penny-less old woman with only one shoe and five starving children crawls away with her head all covered up, as if she’s ashamed of being broke.
It doesn’t make no sense to me whatsoever. It seems to me that Jesus would want you to keep most of your money, so you don’t have to starve and die and can at least make it to church to pray. What gets me is watching them churchgoers and knowing that they talk all big about Jesus, but when they get home, they just keep doing their sinning anyway, like they’d forgotten every word they’d learned.
Maybe all you have to do is say you believe in Jesus and then you’ll be saved no matter how you act. But what do I know? I ain’t been saved yet.
Excerpt from No Hill for a Stepper by C. Dennis-Willingham
image credit
via Patience
Be Open to the World
I wait for you to come out of your shell
for you to incubate and percolate
into your perfect self
The world is not always a scary place
Concentrate
Communicate
Fear will dissipate
You can become the Goddess of Love
Just open your gate
Make this your world to punctuate
And we will celebrate your glory.
image credit
via Incubate
Not All Noise Hurts
But if you prefer silence …
image credit of snail
image credit of children laughing
image credit of carousel
image credit of Preservation Hall
image credit of waterfall
via Noise
