Babies Don't Hate

This is a baby. Yes, I know that is obvious, but there are a few other obvious things about babies that I would like to point out.

 

Babies don't hate you because of your skin color and they don't hate you because of your race or your gender identity or your sexual orientation. Babies don't hate you because of your weight or your religion or your sex. Yes, it may be obvious, but in fact babies don't hate you for any reason at all! Do you know why? They don't understand the concept. They don't know how to hate.

 

A wonderful article several years ago titled See Baby Discriminate said that children as young as six months could judge others based on their skin color. Where are they getting these ideas? Who is teaching our children? The answer of course is that we are. We are teaching discrimination. We are teaching hate. We are taking away the innocence of our children.

 

Parents and teachers are not bad. That's not my message here. What I am saying is that babies come into the world without any notion of hate. Let's not give it to them! 

The Boy and the Starfish

All good stories begin with "Once upon a time," right? Well here's one, that was adapted from The Star Thrower by Loren Eiseley (1907-1977). You might find it reminding you of a similar story I recently told about a dog, and the message is really the same, so read on.

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.

One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a little boy, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"

The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."

"I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?" said the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the boy replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "It made a difference for that one."

Indeed. It made a difference for every single starfish the boy threw into the water. The message this morning is clear, and it's one I have I shared over and over. WE can make a difference. WE can be superheroes. WE can do some pretty incredible things. If we throw our hand up in surrender and don't even try to make this a better world, of course we won't be giving back, but each of us can and should give back in our own way. If it seems overwhelming and that our contributions won't make a bit of difference, remember the story of the boy and the starfish!

Let's eat Daddy

"Let's eat Daddy!"  What?!  Of course nobody has any interest in chowing down on their father.  There is a missing coma which changes the whole meaning.  We are actually suggesting to our father that it is time for a meal.  "Let's eat, Daddy!"

Right about now you are probably thinking that I have lost my mind but hold tight dear readers.  I do have a point coming up.  Mom used to always refer to today as a command.  When you pronounce it, there is no difference of course.  The difference comes in the spelling.  We can all march forth on March Fourth.  The point of all of this my friends is that today is also National Grammar Day. Martha Brockenbrough, founder of the Society for the Promotion of Good Grammar and the author of Things That Make Us [Sic], established National Grammar Day back in 2008, deciding that a date and an imperative was the perfect time for such an observance.

 

Good grammar is not just about proper placement of commas of course.  Good grammar can help us to be better understood.  That can be a key to our communication.

 

There is a historical connection to March 4th too.  That is the date on which our federal government used to begin and in fact our earlier presidents were inaugurated on March 4th. Today is also National Pound cake Day!  So march forth on this March Fourth and improve your grammar, while enjoying some delicious pound cake, and then march on and change the world!

Give Me A Number

One day at the hospital where I volunteer, I overheard family members talking about an elderly patient.  "I'm not spending money on that," said one.  "She probably won't be alive much longer anyway so it wouldn't be worth it."

This isn't the first time I heard people talk numbers.  During the COVID-19 pandemic I heard several times that some people would die, but not enough to be worried about.  When should we be concerned then?  Please, give me a number.

There are many wonderful people in this world doing great things, and it gives me pleasure to be able to write about some of them here and about things we can all do to make a difference.  From time to time though I just have to comment on the other side of the coin.  There sadly are people who just don't care about others.  I don't get it.  I really don't.  I especially don't understand the preoccupation with numbers.

Every single person is entitled to the chance at happiness from the moment they are born until the day they day.  It's not a case of some being expendable.  It isn't that someone has lived a long time and therefore no longer deserves to live.  That is simply nonsense.  It doesn't matter who says otherwise - they are wrong.  There isn't an age when people are no longer worthy.

Calling all heroes

Here in this space I write about all kinds of heroes.  Some are enduring heroes and some only for a moment for one action they did.  There is also a lot of disagreement about who is a hero.  I have written here that Colin Kaepernick is a hero, but I got a number of responses disagreeing with me.  Can singers and dancers be heroes?  What about an actor?  How about politicians?  Perhaps your big brother is your hero.

Who do YOU call a hero?  What is it that makes them a hero?  Is it one thing or many things that they do?  Did they perform some incredible act? Do we need heroes in our lives these days?  What do YOU think?  Let us hear from you in the comments section below.  Is there someone who is a hero to you?

Maybe there is a better word for it.  I'd like to know about that too.

Let's Make A Difference

It's time to play everyone's favorite game (which can easily become everyone's favorite way of life) .   .   . Let's Make A Difference!

 

So do we choose what is behind door number one?  Perhaps we would rather go to door number two?  What do you think?  Is number three the best choice?  Life isn't really a game, but we are faced with many decisions along the way.  Which ones should we choose?  Which ones are best for us, and best for others as well?

 

There are many ways to make a difference in this world, and it isn't just about trading that boiled egg in your purse for a new car (huh?  how many of you got that one?).  Think about it.  What can you do to bring positive change to this world?  What can you do that will be good both now and for generations to come?  What can you do that will really make a difference?

 

The clock is ticking.  It would be nice if we could all make it to the bonus round!  Let's do it!  Let's Make A Difference!!

 

(My guilty pleasure is watching old game shows on buzzr and GSN).

Give peace a chance!

One of the things that humans do, that I will never understand, is fight.  The whole idea of war just doesn't make sense to me.  Overnight, as I am sure you have heard, the United States military participated in an action that claimed lives.  It is not over.  I don't understand it.  For as long as I can remember, I have been hearing people cry out for peace, yet it never seems to stay for very long.  There are always wars somewhere in the world (or the threat of war, which is also bad) and so there is always suffering and dying.  It does not have to be that way though and thinking about war (and peace) this morning, reminded me of a poem I first heard many years ago (early 70s, I think).  It's called The Box, and I'd like to share it here with you:   

The Box
by Kendrew Lascelles

Once upon a time, in the land of Hush-a-Bye,
Around about the wondrous days of yore,
They came across a sort of box, all bound with chains and locked with locks,
And labelled, "Kindly Do Not Touch... It's War."
A decree was issued 'round about, all with a flourish and a shout,
And a gaily-colored mascot tripping lightly on before:
"Don't fiddle with this deadly box, or break the chains, or pick the locks,
And please, don't ever mess about with War".
Well, the children understood; children happen to be good,
And were just as good around that time of yore.
They didn't try to break the locks, or break into that deadly box,
And never tried to play about with War.
Mommies didn't either; sisters, aunts, nor grannies neither;
'Cause they were quiet and sweet and pretty
In those wondrous days of yore.
Well, very much the same as now, they’re not to the ones to blame somehow,
For opening up that deadly box of War.
But someone did...
Someone battered in the lid, and spilled the insides all across the floor:
A sort of bouncy, bumpy ball, made up of flags and guns and all.
The tears and the horror and the death that goes with War.
It bounced right out, and went bashing all about.
Bumping into everything in store;
And what was sad and most unfair, was that it really didn't seem to care
Much who it bumped, or why, or what, or for.
It bumped the children mainly, and I'll tell you this quite plainly,
It bumps them everyday, and more and more;
And leaves them dead and burned and crying,
Thousands of them sick and dying,
'Cause when it bumps, it's very, very sore.'
There is a way to stop the ball... it isn't very hard at all;
All it takes is wisdom, and I'm absolutely sure
We could get it back inside the box, and bind the chains and lock the locks,
But no one seems to want to save the children anymore.
Well, that's the way it all appears,
'Cause it's been bouncing 'round for years and years,
In spite of all the wisdom whizzed since those wondrous days of yore;
And the time they came across the box,
All bound with chains and locked with locks,
And labeled, "Kindly Do Not Touch... It's War".