Eli's latest picture got me thinking about Peace on Earth. When my children were small they would get so excited around the time of our anniversary and ask me what I wanted for a gift. I would always say, "Peace on Earth", to which they would cry, "For real, Mom, what do you want?" I would then sigh heavily and say that I wanted my own apartment, which went over just as well. Finally I said, "For really and truly, I want something I don't have to dust!" So if they listened and I was lucky, I got my favorite perfume or a gift certificate for a manicure, if not, I was luckier still and got little ceramic kitties. Which I had to dust, but not very often. When I saw this pic of Eli, it got me thinking of the peace on earth days and I thought, what if:
What if for just one minute the whole entire world held it's breath?
Peace on Earth for one minute; no
dying or
crying or
sying.
Peace on Earth and this is what it would look like...
How you know you're doing good.
One day I walked past Amber's bedroom door and overheard her talking to her favorite baby, April Rose. Apparently, April Rose had misbehaved and was being corrected. I don't remember the exact words after all these years, but something on the order of " It's ok April Rose, everybody makes mistakes, I know you didn't mean it." She hugged her baby and loved her and didn't make her cry.
Yesterday, Jiro was playing with some toys on my bed while I was doing something on the computer when I heard him singing a vaguely familiar tune. I turned slowly to watch him without disturbing him and saw that he was rocking Buzz and as I listened I recognized the tune (the phrasing here is very interpretive):
The words were:
Huss eyo baby, no tay erd, by oo bird...
The tune was:
Hush little baby, don't say a word,
Grandma's going to buy you a mockingbird.
I have been singing that song to him since he was born. We don't even have it on cd. I turned my head and cried, just like that day with Amber. I knew I had done good.
I have known the silence of the stars and of the sea,
And the silence of the city when it pauses,
And the silence of a man and a maid,
And the silence of the sick
When their eyes roam about the room.
And I ask: For the depths,
Of what use is language?
A beast of the field moans a few times
When death takes its young.
And we are voiceless in the presence of realities --
We cannot speak.
A curious boy asks an old soldier
Sitting in front of the grocery store,
"How did you lose your leg?"
And the old soldier is struck with silence,
Or his mind flies away
Because he cannot concentrate it on Gettysburg.
It comes back jocosely
And he says, "A bear bit it off."
And the boy wonders, while the old soldier
Dumbly, feebly lives over
The flashes of guns, the thunder of cannon,
The shrieks of the slain,
And himself lying on the ground,
And the hospital surgeons, the knives,
And the long days in bed.
But if he could describe it all
He would be an artist.
But if he were an artist there would be deeper wounds
Which he could not describe.
There is the silence of a great hatred,
And the silence of a great love,
And the silence of an embittered friendship.
There is the silence of a spiritual crisis,
Through which your soul, exquisitely tortured,
Comes with visions not to be uttered
Into a realm of higher life.
There is the silence of defeat.
There is the silence of those unjustly punished;
And the silence of the dying whose hand
Suddenly grips yours.
There is the silence between father and son,
When the father cannot explain his life,
Even though he be misunderstood for it.
There is the silence that comes between husband and wife.
There is the silence of those who have failed;
And the vast silence that covers
Broken nations and vanquished leaders.
There is the silence of Lincoln,
Thinking of the poverty of his youth.
And the silence of Napoleon
After Waterloo.
And the silence of Jeanne d'Arc
Saying amid the flames, "Blessed Jesus" --
Revealing in two words all sorrows, all hope.
And there is the silence of age,
Too full of wisdom for the tongue to utter it
In words intelligible to those who have not lived
The great range of life.
And there is the silence of the dead.
If we who are in life cannot speak
Of profound experiences,
Why do you marvel that the dead
Do not tell you of death?
Their silence shall be interpreted
As we approach them.
Edgar Lee Masters
Blog from 05-28-09
When my girls were very young I took them to all kinds of classes so they could find something they would like to do. They both fell into roller skating just like the proverbial stone. I dreamed of the things they would do, maybe even bring artistic roller skating to the Olympics. Fast forward 25 or so years and darned if they aren't making waves with their skating skills. Of course the waves are all over their opposing teammates who dare get in their way. Watch Out World, there are 2, count'em, TWO, Flat Track Furies in the family as of yesterday. I would like to introduce you to the new Reign of Tara, as well as one of the OG's, sensational Ambruisia. I love the Furies and I am SO glad that I can still keep rooting for my favorite team!!! You girls are Furious!
Signed,
A Derby Mom
