Monday, December 26, 2022
Cherish
Sunday, December 25, 2022
On the first day of Christmas
Friday, December 23, 2022
how do you say thank you?
Friday, December 16, 2022
From a New York taxi driver
I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked..
'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.
She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'
'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive through downtown?'
'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly.
'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice. 'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired. Let's go now'.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.
'Nothing,' I said.
'You have to make a living,' she answered.
'There are other passengers,' I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.
I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
Thursday, December 15, 2022
9-8-8
Wednesday, December 14, 2022
Happy holidays?
Thursday, December 8, 2022
archair activist
Tuesday, December 6, 2022
Good old Saint Nick
Thursday, December 1, 2022
Still no cure
Saturday, November 26, 2022
Not yet Christmas
Thursday, November 24, 2022
Let us give thanks
Tuesday, November 8, 2022
it's My Right
Monday, October 31, 2022
In reverse
Monday, October 10, 2022
Love those health care workers
Tuesday, September 27, 2022
Hero Headquarters
The many activists who stand up for justice and equality belong in this category too. The unconditional love - the "making a difference" kind of people: heroes. There seem to be more and more folks coming out and changing the world. You can be a hero too! You can make a difference. Perhaps you already are. I'd love to hear about it in the comments below. Tell me about the heroes in your life!
Monday, September 26, 2022
A Facebook Post About Changing The World
Tuesday, September 13, 2022
End discrimination
Sunday, September 11, 2022
Reflections from Twenty One Years Ago
On Friday, September 14, the day of national mourning, I knew my place was here in New York with those who were courageously struggling with the aftermath of the hideous events of the previous Tuesday. A police van picked me up at the Church Center and transported me through checkpoints to the Seaman's Church Institute within the restricted area where police, firefighters, National Guard, rescue workers and Con Edison technicians were being cared for with food, fresh changes of clothing, and words of thanks and encouragement from tireless volunteers.
In the midst of the chaos I was asked to celebrate the Eucharist. It was Holy Cross Day, and how appropriate and right it was that our mourning and grief be rooted and grounded in the mystery of the cross. St. Paul speaks of sharing the sufferings of Christ. I thought that every act of violence, and all that it produces, is an instance of Christ's own suffering with and on behalf of those he came to reconcile to one another through the cross.
In the Gospel reading for the day, we hear Jesus proclaim: "When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself." The cross is Jesus' facing into all the subtle and obvious forces of evil the divide the human family, drawing us all to himself in order that we might be transformed and live in new patterns of relationship: patterns which are grounded in the awareness that - at the heart of all differences of language, race, culture and ways of believing and naming God - we are profoundly one in the mind and heart of our Creator. That this terrible act of terrorism has provoked blind and indiscriminate blame directed against our Moslem and Arab neighbors is to allow the evil we are suffering to catch us up in its ongoing destructive force, and make us its victim in yet another way.
After the Eucharist, Phoebe and I were taken through more checkpoints to "Ground Zero." This close to the impact, gray ash lay everywhere and coated the silent and abandoned buildings, among them St. Paul's Chapel where George Washington worshiped. Outside the church the American and Episcopal Church flags, stained and torn, fluttered at half-mast. An ancient tree had been uprooted and its branches rested on the gravestones. The building was intact, but the churchyard was thick with ash and debris and thousands of bits of paper. The iron gate was ajar. I pushed it open and climbed the littered and ash covered steps to the open door of the church. In an eerie way, everything seemed to be in order, except for the covering of dust. I found myself in tears. Here, at the heart of all the chaos and destruction was a place of solace and prayer.
The sacristy door stood open. I went in and found a piece of paper and a pen and wrote "I have been here and you have my prayers and my love. Frank Griswold, Presiding Bishop." I turned to leave and just then the priest arrived. "I'm here and the church is open," he said. What more could one ask for at a time like this than the ministry of presence.
As we left, I looked up at the crucifix above the altar and had the sense that the extended arms could receive and embrace all the madness and hatred and destruction and suffering that lay close by and in all the places in our fragile world where violence and death and innocent suffering are a daily reality. Somehow this terrible event has joined us in solidarity with the suffering of the world.
That evening I took part in a service at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. At the end of the service, the congregation with lighted candles in hand followed us out onto the cathedral steps where people, instead of dispersing into the evening, drew close to one another, still holding on to their candles. Passersby joined them, some stopping to buy candles in nearby shops.
Spontaneous singing began…"We shall overcome…." I thought of the overwhelming generosity of spirit that had flowed through the day. I thought of the selfless volunteers and their eagerness to be useful; the many workers and their gratitude; the congregation bound together in mutual support. I was seeing evil overcome by good which is the only way in which our world can be healed. I was also seeing our church in action and prayer and hospitality mediate the real presence of Christ.
How grateful I am for our Episcopal household and for its clear witness at this time. The days ahead will be difficult and demanding for us all, and I pray that we will be able to live them with the courage and strength that are ours in the risen Christ.
XXV Presiding Bishop and Primate
The Episcopal Church, USA
Friday, September 9, 2022
Death of the Queen
Elizabeth II became queen of Great Britain and Northern Ireland way back before most of us were even born, following the death of her father, King George VI. Her face and even her manner is so known to just about everyone. As her son and daughter-in-law face new duties ahead, they and they rest of the family are so busy with official duties, that they hardly have time to grieve. Losing a mother is tough. I know. To lose your mother though and then need to immediately replace her officially, has to be a difficult chore.
I have no idea about the funeral plans or the official transfer of power. We will all certainly hear a lot about those things in the days ahead.
I know many people are anti-monarchy. There are many reasons, but right now that doesn't matter. Queen Elizabeth always cared about the people of the Commonwealth. For good or for bad, she cared. From everything I have seen, Charles cares too. It would seem to me that the kind thing right now would be to show decency and respect. Let the family grieve. Remember the good, and there is so much good. There will be plenty of time later on to address any changes.
Thursday, September 8, 2022
Wednesday, September 7, 2022
Table cooperation
The process of working together to the same end, is called cooperation. It isn't a new concept, but it doesn't happen nearly as often as it should. I've even told you this particular story about cooperation before, but I really like it, and it's important, so I thought I would tell this story again.
Tuesday, September 6, 2022
Inspired by Kennedy
Monday, September 5, 2022
honoring labor
Have fun today. Enjoy whatever it is you may be doing. Remember though the real meaning of today, and give your support to labor!
Sunday, September 4, 2022
Harvey said
Friday, September 2, 2022
happiness
Thursday, September 1, 2022
No Bullying Zone
To put an end to bullying, we ALL need to get involved. There is no neutral zone. There is no standing by and saying it isn't our concern. Justice and fairness is EVERYONE'S concern. Bullying too often leads to a lifetime of self-hating or even suicide. We need to say "No more!" I'm talking about ALL bullying too. None of it is ever acceptable.