ATTENTION VETERANS!!!!

Did you know that if you have had medical care in a VA facility in the past 6 months you qualify to receive art and craft kits.
I have received bird houses, leather wallets and mocasins, paintings etc.

Contact HHV Special Projects Office at (888)567-8387ext105


It's Free!!!

Christmas

I wrote this last Christmas... thought i would share it again... 

Christmas

I didn't get caught up in the hustle and bustle of the Christmas season this year. I am not sure if it is because I broke my traditions and just took life as it came this year. Yes I still had to get that last minute gift yesterday and got caught in the god awful lines at walmart, but I didn't rush here and there and go overboard. I think Christmas has lost its meaning or maybe it has gained meaning. I am not sure how to explain it. I wasn't worried so much about getting Malachi the newest thing out there and fulfilling all of his desires. (not that I could anyways. the kid asked for a butler LOL). Yes, I did get him a few gifts I knew he would love, but I definitely downsized this year. I think next year I am going to beginsome new traditions. It was nice to see my son sacrifice his favorite toy this year and give it a needy child whose wish was to have a bakugon collection. Malachi gave him his along with his bakugon costume that he got in october. He even offered to open his home up to this child and to make him part of our family. If only things were that simple. He gave with a servants heart. there was nothing in it for him. He saw a need and filled a need. On sunday we went to a christmas program at a local church. We have been there a couple of times in the past few years. Not enough for me to know anyones names. I still park in the guest parking because that is how seldom I go. The church had taken teddy bears to the elderly and hospitalized. My son took the only two dollars he had and said he wanted to give it to a child who was having surgery. However, he put the money in the plate with out letting anyone know the monies purpose and it went to the help the church put a fence around the childrens playground. He was very upset when he heard this. I gave him some money and he walked up to the pastor and handed him the money and said this is for bears for kids in surgery. Most kids would have spent that money on themselves. He has a servants heart. I want to be like him. I want to do for others and I find the feeling I receive so much more fulfilling when I give sacrificially. I don't feel that Christmas should be about a tree with beautifully wrapped boxes underneath.

First Glance

First glance; judgment is passed. Upon meeting; the first words I speak, judgment is passed.  The look on my face, the way I carry myself; judgment is passed. Never really given a chance to show my true being; not being seen for my true value, misjudged. I am more than face value.

In college I was forced to take an elective. I chose woman’s studies. BLAH!!! Even though I wasn’t thrilled about the course I went into it like I do everything else, 100%. I made the most of each assignment, stretched the limits, placing a product on my instructor’s desk that usually left her jaw dropped. She had a preconceived notion about me. She is human, I can’t be mad. “You have a beautiful literary voice,” she said, “Why don’t we hear more of that in class?” Fear.  I mention this course because one particular assignment comes to mind and though I don’t have the paper sitting here in front of me today I still recall it because it had meaning to me and it has stayed with me for over 14 years (plus it was short…lol).

I looked around the classroom. It felt like the eyes of the other students penetrated me. Our desks formed in a circle to encourage full class participation. I am sure no one was looking at me. They were more than likely deep in thought, or processing what the teacher was saying. But all the same it felt like all eyes were on me. What were these people thinking? What were their expectations? Was anything good going through their minds? I rolled the assignment over and over in my head, trying to rap my brain around it; contemplating my approach. Write a paper about the image you portray and how others opinions affect your view of yourself.  For the first time, I looked around the room and looked at the people around me. There were mostly men in my women’s studies class. Why would they sign up for this class? What did they think we would be studying? Did they think we would be analyzing our anatomy for 3 hours a week? Really? Surprise!!!! Women’s studies had to do more with empowering women and seeing our potential as women to rise above by taking a deep look at other women’s accomplishments.

I left the class room that day a little scared to take a real look at myself. It had to be done though, and I had to rise above my fears and take the assignment seriously. I stopped at the store on the way home and bought one of those over-priced flimsy full length mirrors. I set the mirror up at home, in my room where no one else could see.  I tried to view myself through the world’s eyes. I looked frumpy, thrown together. My hair was a mess. I had these thick ugly glasses that took over my face.  I was nerdy, oblivious to the ways of the world; trapped in the confines of my sheltered childhood.  I stripped down to the nude. Twisting and turning and posing at all sorts of odd angles trying to see myself from all points of view. What I was seeing was still only skin level. I couldn’t see my heart, which showed passion and concern and love for others. I had to remind myself I had to see myself the way others do and identify how it affected my feelings and behavior. The assignment was shallow and a frivolous.

I love me. Every out of place hair on my head, the extra jiggle in the tummy, my one crooked tooth, my tiny tits, flat ass, I loved my style of clothing. I loved me for me. I didn’t need the mirror. I don’t need to see myself as others do because I know what is under all of that, deep inside me. I am that girl that will give the shirt off her back, the last penny in her pocket. I have taken in the homeless. I have fed the guy on the corner that sleeps on the bus stop bench. I have provided for the children of needy families. My clothing didn’t make me. My make up or hairstyle didn’t make me. I was composed of strong morals and values that were my driving force. That led me through my path in life. I didn’t care about what other people thought.  I took the mirror and threw it away. I had no use for it. It did not justly reflect who I was. If someone didn’t take the time to see past the outside mess then they didn’t deserve the pureness of my heart. 

I turned in a paper that only said, “This is me. If others opinions held value they wouldn’t be giving them to me for free.  I realized, who I am cannot be seen in a mirror or a photograph. I run deeper. Open your eyes.”  I got an A+.

I know that most of you have never met me. Maybe one day I can share my full story and you can see what has made me evolve into the wonder I am today.  

What made you into the wonder you are today?

Read My Lips: Hands so Small

Read My Lips: Hands so Small: I couldn't sleep. Paced back and forth across my kitchen. Sometimes thoughts plagued my mind interrupting my rest. I stepped outside. Gaze...

Hands so Small

I couldn't sleep. Paced back and forth across my kitchen. Sometimes thoughts plagued my mind interrupting my rest. I stepped outside. Gazed at the blackness of the sky. Too many street lights to appreciate the stars I knew illuminated the sky, blotted out by man made beams that only shed more rays on the reality I now faced. I crossed the street, to the playground, where my son ran and played on warm summer days. I followed the sidewalk surrounding the jungle gym. Pressed within the cement were hand prints so small. I placed my hand beside the imprints and realized how far I have come, how much time had passed. Where did things go wrong? or did they go right? Nothing according to plan, but was that a good thing? I still don't know. I thought of the dreams that I had back when my hands were so small. I thought of the imprint. What kind of imprint was I leaving on my son whose hands were that small? Does he dream like I did? Where will he end up? He trusted me enough to put his hand in mine and let me lead. Each day his hand filling more of mine.

Time... A concept I still struggle with; a minute can drag or fly by. Warped by the interpretations of my brain. He was growing up fast. A moment of time, gone, only a memory. With me forever even if burried within the abyss of my brain. 

I found myself still circling the playground. Around and Around, my head was spinning. I didn't know which way I was facing. I didn't know where I was going. I make no plans. I just simply put one foot in front of the other and I found myself standing in front of the door to my house. Did I follow my feet? Or did I follow my heart? All I knew was that I was Home... Everything I needed and wanted was on the other side of that door. I just had to go through the now open door.

Are you comfortable?

I have always sort of blended into the back ground. Not completely forgotten about, but not really noticed either. Kind of like a picture on the wall you have looked at so many times you sort of start to not even notice it as you walk by. You take for granted it is there. Someone could steal it and it would take you weeks to notice it is missing. Your mind naturally fills that spot on the wall with the image of the picture. We go through our lives like this. Doing things day in and day out, following the same old routine, not mixing it up. Every morning I make myself a cup of coffee. Several times on the way out the door I have turned around and gone back inside to make sure that I turned the coffee pot off because I couldn’t remember doing it. Each and every time I turned around and checked; it was off. I blindly went through my morning, every day predictable. What if one day we did things differently? Got up early to take the longer, more scenic route to work, would the world spin out of orbit? It might feel that way. Throw you off balance for a while, but possibly in the long run it would be worth the dizziness. Some of us will never find out because we are comfortable, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, if you like getting cheated.

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