Impala

I used to spend my weekends in the summer working at a K.O.A. campground outside St. Cloud, Minnesota. One summer, my friend and the owners' grandson, Dave, decided he was going to fix up an old Chevy Impala stored out in the ball-field. Since I was Dave's steadfast sidekick, I endeavored to help fix the car.

We spent most of our time dismantling the carburetor and trying to get the Impala to go faster than 25 m.p.h. I don't recall ever being successful. Autumn came and Dave and I parted ways until the next summer when we went to work on the car again.

I think a lot about that old Impala and I'm not sure why. It may have something to do with two small dents in the hood. Somehow, I tie that image in with the idea of being dented by people I've known. People I have crashed into who left me altered, but never totaled.

Christmas

I credit Christmas for teaching me to read. My parents used to spell out the presents they were going to get me to my sister across the dinner table. After dinner, I would run to my room, grab a notebook from my backpack, and print the letters I remembered my parents saying. The next day, I would take the notebook to school and show my teacher.

"What does this say?" I would ask her.

"Oh that," she would reply, "That looks like it says 'remote control car.' You're missing a couple letters, though."

I did my best to act surprised when my family opened gifts on Christmas Eve.

Surf

When I was visiting my friend, Kiel, down in Brownsville, Texas, he skipped teaching one day to take me out to South Padre Island.

We sat in the surf, staring out at the ocean. "You know what I love about sitting like this?" I said.

"What's that?" Kiel asked.

"That you can feel the surf eroding the sand beneath you. That if we sit here long enough without moving, we will sink beneath the water."

6,000 Miles

On my way through Colorado on my way back to Minnesota during my vision quest through America, I was stopped by a cattle herd moving down a mountain highway. As I threaded my way at a crawl through the herd, I rolled down my window and called to one of the ranchers on horseback.

"Sorry for the congestion, sir," he said, "but we gotta move 'em."

I laughed. "No worries, cowboy. This is what I drove 6,000 miles to see. This moment, right now."

He smiled, tipped his hat, and cantered on through the herd.

Eavesdropping

I am a notorious eavesdropper. Odds are, if you are within ten yards of me, I am hanging on to your every word.

I was eavesdropping on a woman, her young son, and her friend this morning at a coffee shop. The mother asked her son, "Do you want to tell Janette about how you saw Jesus this morning?"

"Did you see Jesus this morning?" Janette asked the boy. He nodded and blushed.

"He saw the sun this morning," his mother explained, " and he said, 'Mommy, look! It's Jesus. Wave to Jesus, Mommy.' So we get into the car and Nicholas is waving away at the sun and says, 'Come on, Mommy, wave.' So I wave and say, 'See you later, Jesus.' "

The women laughed and little Nicholas giggled.

Anthropologist

This project, Small, Stupid, and Beautiful Things, came out of a game I started playing when I was nineteen.

I used to walk down Snelling Avenue in the Midway late at night, my maroon hoodie pulled up against the dark, and I pretended to be an anthropologist for God.

When I saw someone do something beautiful, I muttered to myself: "Do you see that? That's human beings being beautiful to one another."

If it was exceptionally beautiful, I would ask God, "Are you taking notes?"

I still play this game more often than I should. I try to keep my voice down if there are other people nearby.

Meditation on Honi the Circle-Drawer

[I have written about Honi the Circle-Drawer before.]

In the time of Jesus of Nazareth, there lived in Israel a man called Honi the Circle-Drawer. We know of Honi the Circle-Drawer because the Jewish tradition considered him and men like him to be favored sons of God.

Honi the Circle-Drawer was famous for performing a particular kind of miracle. He would go to villages throughout Israel experiencing drought and he would promise the people rain. Honi the Circle-Drawer would walk to a spot just outside of the village and pray. Then, he would crouch down, put his finger into the dirt, and draw a circle around himself in the parched earth. When he had closed the circle, Honi the Circle-Drawer would stand and face the East, resolved not to step outside the circle until God made it rain. Honi the Circle-Drawer would not move until Heaven blessed the land.

I think this is what any proclamation of love is; clutching the greater half of one's whole, drawing a circle in the dust, and refusing to budge until the heaven above open up and pour.

Honi the Circle-Drawer knew rain is always coming. Those in love know rain is always on the way and are brave enough to stand together until it rains on each and everyone of us.

Blessed Penguins

In medieval Europe, there was a myopic priest who mistook a flock of penguins for a group a Christian pilgrims and blessed them. Later, he realized his mistake and informed his bishop. The churchmen who heard the story of the myopic priest's blessing faced a conundrum. Since they were blessed, did the penguins now have souls like men and women? And if so, could they be saved? Would these penguins have a shot at heaven?

The bishop decided to bring the question to St. Theresa. The story goes that she could not help but smile as the bishop grew more and more upset about the thorny problem of the blessed penguins. The bishop asked St. Theresa what should be done.

"Give them souls," St. Theresa replied. "But only little ones."

"Why would I not do this?"

Everyday I see the small and beautiful things that make people so wonderful and human. I am a nurse assigned to an oncology (cancer) and hospice unit at a hospital.

This is a story about two patients with Leukemia. One is a younger man from the Middle East, devoutly Muslim. He is, understandably, very scared. He is anxious and just stays in his room all day preoccupied with death. I will call him Mr. A. The other is an older women who is Jewish and immigrated from communist Soviet Union in the 70's. She has been receiving chemotherapy since the beginning of June. She is as tough as nails and yet the sweetest woman. I will call her Ms. B.

I encouraged Mr. A and his wife to get out of the room and walk around to keep up his energy, strength, and simply for his sanity. Ms. B, on the other hand, needs no encouragement to walk; you can't keep her in her room because she has so much energy. Later that afternoon Mr. A and his wife were out walking and I saw them meet Ms. B. They talked for a bit and both parties retreated to their rooms.

Later on I heard a knock at a door and it open. I heard a woman yell in a thick eastern European accent, "It is time to get out of bed. Your wife wants you to walk. Let's go!"

I peeked around the corner and saw Ms. B leave Mr. A's room and out came Mr. A and they both went for a walk in their matching IV pumps, gowns, and face masks (to prevent infection).

Later, I asked Ms. B what made her do this. She replied, "I had promised his wife I would watch after him. And he is a man who is loved and who loves, so why would I not do this?" Mr. A was calm and slept for the first time in a week. My hope is Mr. A saw hope for himself and comfort in others around him.

Contributed by Kelly.

Days

Did you know that there are two days in your life you can't do anything about? That's yesterday and tomorrow. You can live only in today! Live, love, laugh, work, and enjoy it!

Contributed by Ann.