Angels of Life.

When I was a child I had a neighbor named Pat, a little girl I used to play with.
We were two angels but totally different.
She was always a Princess in her make believe world and I was always in some adventure, in a beautiful forest, surrounded by wild animals.
In real life I was always great with animals and I took great pleasure in analyzing
leaves, flowers and animal behavior. In some ways I tried emulating them thinking
geez, are they not little geniuses in how they survive without a Mom and Dad.
I think this is how man learned how to survive emulating the lives of animals.
Where ever I went I had an Angel sitting on my shoulder, guiding me, loving me and I was always safe.

Across the street lived another little girl with polio. She couldn't partake in many things as she lived upstairs and sat in a wheel chair, but sometimes her Dad would bring her down or we would go up for a visit to see her. We lived on a kind, loving street with very good families.

Then another family moved in with five children and we welcomed them but they came from a different world. The world of a down town city. They only knew how to speak with foul language. Every second word was a swear word.
It didn't work well for us and we told them that if you want to play with us, that language had to change.
Since they wanted to play with us, they tried very hard to change and within a month or so hardly ever a bad word came out of their mouth.
I often wonder what happened to my friends How they grew up, what their lives were like.
Mine whisked me away to different parts of the world where I learned so many things and came back a totally changed person.
I never saw so much sorrow pain suffering and poverty . I also saw genuine kindness in so many peoples eyes and hearts willing to share what little they had. It was another world.
Then coming home to get culture shocked by people who had much more to be thankful for, but full of cruel intent, manipulations, and unconscionable behavior.
It made me very sad.
Ayn Rand came to mind as she taught people different values and these values changed people into human beings who were just not nice to hang with.
They use bad language and insist everything is ok.
It's ok for them to free themselves while forcing others to have to sit and deal with their ignorance and callousness which forces more laws to be passed to stop them.
They become lonely walking shells, pretending to be human.

New kind of people who constantly whine and complain about everything and blame every one for their misfortune except themselves.
They are told not to do something and fall and hurt themselves and suddenly it's your fault.
They expect something for nothing and don't raise a finger to help themselves.

I look at kids today and they are so different from our generation which had chores to do and behaved well into their 20's. Parents were strict and never was a harsh word ever spoken against a parent let alone a hand raised. Today the papers are full of senior abuse.
Old people were a blessing to talk to and help as opposed to today when they fear anyone approaching them.

Kids were of stronger mind. We were all spanked. We had bullies and learned how to deal with them rather than complain and threaten to kill ourselves.
Today I listen to the news and think people have nothing to do.
If they found things to do to keep busy, their minds would not be suffering so.
Idleness begets suffering.

My Grand mothers words keep coming to mind as she always said
Keep your hands busy and so I do and creation brings me a lot of joy.

I plant a seed and it sprouts a leaf.Looking at it I become a child again, experiencing the adventure of a birth in nature. Small things.
I go back in history and do like the Indians did.
Instead of recycling boxes I put leftovers into pots and top them with a flower. The flower nourishes itself . From potato peels news potatoes emerge.
I think if every one threw their potato peels into the forests, so many potatoes would grow and feed the animals who otherwise have nothing to eat and come to man's garbage cans to feed.

I was a child and now I am grown and old but my heart is still the same.
I think man, if he lets himself, has a lot to offer nature.
Cemented cities could use more trees.Rain buckets could support fish life which would eat any mosquito larvae aiding in preventing diseases from mosquito bites.

Keeping your own grass clippings to keep your yard from eroding. Why can't people keep a goat or a sheep or bunnies to cut the grass? Small things.

Angels sit on all our shoulders and they are born every year to people as gifts from God
so man could relearn what life takes him away from.
Living around Angels is a blessing no one should be without.

Have a great day. :)

The Myth of Saints and Angels

I loved the movie with Cary Grant called the Bishops Wife.

It was a story about a Bishop who worked towards acquiring a huge Church and had no time for anything else which was meaningful, like his wife, his old parish where he had a beautiful boys' choir, and so according to his wish for help an Angel showed up, Cary Grant.

He helped fix the important things in the Bishops life by making him realize what was important and what was not.

It is hard to get these quality kind of movies today.

Today the only one which had any big impact on me was the one with Brad Pitt in the movie

Joe Black.

People don't believe in Saints and Angels any more than they believe in Santa Claus and even God but we all need these beliefs even if we don't acknowledge the need.

We all need love, kindness, help, trust, beauty, at one time or another.

We are strong and yet we are also frail.

I guess this is why we are called social beings.

We are people who need people to feed our souls.

We all need magic and miracles and fantasy in order to grow as people.

I guess we also need evil so as to force us into never forgetting who we are and who we need to become lol.

Our whole lives we feed on stories and we become stories to other people.

Every one of us is a story.

Every one of us is a legend.

Every one of us is an Angel and a Saint.

Every one of us knows evil as well as good.

Every one of us has God within us because of the soul we carry inside,

that's called life.

We may not believe things exist but we are all the things we don't believe in.

Life , being human and social, causes each one of us to play the roles of all of the above things.

Saying it this way makes it sound kinda insane.

God is one.

But then we are one with God as well.

He cannot be escaped even if we don't believe in him.

The trick is with the Devil for he tries to become God.

He tries to become one with everything.

He is the Black Swan.

He is the one which fights against perfection.

He says to people we are not perfect and it is hypocritical for us to think we are or can ever be.

So when we see perfection we covet it, hate it, try to destroy it.

Every time perfection is destroyed, it is replaced by imperfection.

The Devil wants all perfection to be destroyed and everything to become one with him in

imperfection.

This would then make him equal to and more powerful than God

and therefore perfect. lol

And what is perfection?

Perfection is God.

No matter what he does, the only way the devil can rule, is under the perfect God.

So God can never be replaced.

People fight against the word perfection.

It is not easy to reach this level because you have to be better than other people at what you do.

There are many ballerinas but not many perfect ones.

There are many doctors but not many perfect ones.

Some stand out more than others and they are both liked and disliked for being who they are.

What people do not understand is that we cannot escape being perfect.

We are all perfect at something no matter how miniscule it may seem.

The only thing we can hope and wish for, is that whatever we become perfect in,

it is not at something dreadful because all that does is make a person work against himself .

The Devil is known as a liar for he does not disclose the truth to mankind.

He is not forthcoming in what the true meaning of the word

PERFECTION

is.

Perfection exists as do Saints and Angels and Santa Claus.

Saints and Angels are not myths.

We need them all to function as social beings.

My Guardian Angel sits on my shoulder every day to guide me.

Sometimes he makes me cry cause I make decisions I am against making.

He shows me my frailties as a human being, my imperfections.

but then I believe in God.

With God and my Angel, I know I will over come and correct my mistakes and forge on towards the light,

toward perfection which will make a bigger and better impact on the universal plane.

As people, we all have the capability, to achieve this end.

As long as there is the word, there is existence.

Have a good Day :)

TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE STAR

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

When I was a little girl, around two years old, I still remember the quality time I spent with my grandfather.He would always be at work but when he was home, he would sit at the kitchen table, with a pencil and paper figuring some math thingy.

He had the nicest hand writing and I would love to watch him scroll.

I would sit at the other end of the table in my high chair.

My Grand dad never got angry. In all the years I have known him, he never so much as raised his voice.

I still picture him sitting at the end of the table smoking his cigarette and looking at me with a twinkle in his eye.

Then he’d say KOONYA ( I still don’t know what that means) to draw my attention. Then he’d take his fore finger and point it first to his head and then to the table to show me I was as empty headed as a piece of wood. Then he would stick out his tongue and bite it and I'd giggle away and he would watch me with great satisfaction.

I was empty headed because I thought he was cool and looked forward to him sitting down at the table every day, just to beat him to the punch and call him, Deda,…..then I would do the same, point to my head and then almost break my little finger poking the table and stick my tongue out at him.

He would sit and laugh with this twinkling that I loved so much and I would too.

My Grand mother and Mother would be upset with me but they blamed him for teaching me to be rude, saying, she only does this to you.lol

But he and I had a relationship and I knew I was very special to him.

When I got older, around five or six, I went to my grand mother and I asked her if my granddad was a Saint.

She raised her eye brows and began to laugh . A Saint??? Oh no my dearest. He is not a Saint .

She walked away laughing and made sure to tell the whole family what I thought of her husband.

But my Grand dad was a Saint.
Who but a Saint would walk on the streets when bombs fell like hail while every one hid in bunkers? They thought he was crazy but he knew he was safe.

He had a Saints twinkle in his eye. He would always take me to the corner store to buy cigarettes for him and a bag of 5 cent candy for me. He always worked, never yelled, never took part in arguments. Didn't like to be a part of social spectacles. People would party and he would sit and nap.
He never boasted or drank.
He was always working or tinkering with some tool or machine always thinking about how he could invent something or make something work better.

He was a simple man putting on no airs and he loved me.
We did not need to talk to understand each other and I'd love sitting beside him.

He was my Saint and now that I think about it, maybe I was his Angel.
I was the one he liked to look at to inspire him.
At least I'd like to think so but I am sure he loved all his grand children.

A few days before my 13th birthday, he died.
That night, he visited every home to say good bye.

I woke up at night (it seemed around 11:30) and looked up, to find his kind face looking down at me with the same twinkle and smile

I said good night Grand Dad feeling safe and warm knowing he was watching over me, turned on my side and went back to sleep

The next morning my Mom said she was washing dishes and when she turned around he was sitting at the table like he usually did and asked her for a cup of coffee. She said sure Dad and then it dawned on her that he died. She turned around but he was gone.

It is funny we both had a story to tell the next morning.

We both saw him clear as day.

Christmas is a day of miracles . It is a day of birth and celebration. It is a day of Angels and Saints.

The true gifts lie in the simple, innocent and true relationships we have with our family and friends .My grandfather gave me many gifts without giving me anything.
He was my Saint.

The token gifts are for appreciating having this time to be born to celebrate the true nature of the holiday, a new born babe in swaddling clothes,
who looks into your soul with twinkling eyes, innocence, love, and pure joy.

There is nothing like it in the whole world.

My Grand father had a twinkle in his eye.
The Wise men saw the eye of God twinkle that night of nights, showing them the way to the child who would shepherd us and show us all the way.

Some of us still lose the way but all we have to do is look up into the sky and he will still be there, filling our lungs with the essence of nothing short of splendor.

Lungs full of air ,swell up the heart and feed us with energy, hope, the will to succeed . This in turn, helps us seek and find the path to follow to reach our goals
All from a twinkling twinkling little star.

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star