Kindness is Contagious

During my trip to Toronto this summer, there was a man at the Tim Horton drive thru in Don Mills begging for money at nine in the morning. He stood a decent distance from the cars and out of earshot of the drive thru speaker, but close enough so drivers could hear him mumble quietly, almost whispering, “Need money for food”. He was a mess. His teeth were rotten. His eyes looked in different directions. But he was smiling. No one was giving; no one was making eye contact. I was about to do the same.

In the few seconds it took to move up in the line I had time to think 3 things: I was about to spend $1.50 for coffee, "there but for the grace of God go I” and “whatever you do to the least of these brothers, you do to me.” I gave him a tooney. He quietly said thank you and smiled. It was the smile of someone who has nothing. Whether he uses it for food or booze doesn’t really matter. That is his journey. My purpose in that moment was to just give.

As I progressed in the drive thru lane, I looked in my rear view mirror. Everyone in the cars behind me was giving. Kindness is contagious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If not for your goodness
If not for your grace I don't know where I would be today
If not for your kindness I never could say I'm still standing
If not for your mercy if not for your love I most likely would have given up
If not for your favor I never could say I'm still standing but by the grace of God

These were the words I heard the Lakewood Choir sing, and when I sent these words out in my “if I had a blog" email I realized they applied to the friends who were receiving them. If not for your kindness I don’t know where I would be today….I most likely would have given up. Life is an amazing journey, rough and rocky at times, at other times filled with joy and blessing. My greatest joy is from the people along the way; family and friends who love and encourage me continually. You have given of yourself in many ways and even the smallest gesture means so much. Thank you.

Thank you also, to Joe. He was the one who found my cell phone at the Tim Horton near home, the day after I came back from Toronto. He said it was in the middle of an intersection in the parking lot, lying on the ground flipped open. He phoned the entry marked “home” and left me a message. It turns out he lives just a few streets from the salon where my daughter works, which is “at the stoplight” at a small village 45 minutes away. He returned it to her on Tuesday. The last I saw the phone, I had put it on the dashboard of my van. Apparently, I didn't notice it flying out the window. I'm so grateful that Joe did.

hoping kindness is contagious in your life
your friend

alexsandra

Why I read blogs

I've made a few references to ragamuffin soul, but I have not told you about his wife's blog, whittaker woman. They are a family in transition and they post most of it on their blogs. I know for some people this may seem strange. People who are very private or shy, would find this unthinkable. I can't speak for the motives of the Whittaker family, but I can guess a little.

They seem to have a huge circle of family, friends, co-workers who love them and want to know what's going on in their lives. And lots has been happening: out of country adoption, changing jobs, selling their house, moving thousands of miles away. Pastor Whittaker is starting a new job at Buckhead Church. At one point he was only coming home for a day or 2 and flying from Atlanta to Southern California every week. Here is one of the those days. If you only have a few minutes fast forward (drag the round thingy) to minute 2:00.

Their blogs are also a witness to faith. Some who read it admit this is the only link they have to church. The Whittakers are sharing with the world in the most unpreachy, real way as possible...with their lives and their family.

Last week they did the final flight to Atlanta together. They also finalized the adoption of their son. And everything is on the blogs. The inside of the plane, the inside of the cars, the inside of the court room. The good byes to family. The final good bye to Riverside California. The tears. The smiles.

In previous months there was prayer and soul searching. It seemed like they knew this was the right thing. As each part of their reality happens, we witness the wonderful journey of the Whittaker family.

Heroic Friendship

"Greater love has no man than this that he lay down his life for his friends."

~John 15:13

Today I remember someone who brought the word friendship to a higher level. In the days following my husband’s death so many family and friends supported us. But one person was with me every day and every step of the way, and that was Barb. I had met her through the RCIA program at church. I followed her to 2 churches to sing in the choirs that she led. I shared our struggles with her.
Her husband Will was the paramedic that arrived at our house the day I called 911, the day that John died. When there was nothing else that could be done, he immediately called Barb and told her to take the kids to his parents and get over right away. She was with me while I was surrounded by the police, the coroner, and victim services. She came with me to tell our daughter, who was at a sleepover. During the following days she drove me to the funeral home and the cemetery, called the church, helped plan the funeral, and the music. We cried, we laughed and we ate together. She played guitar and sang during the funeral mass, directing the choir.
Barb’s other job was as a legal secretary. She took time off work to be with us. She made a giant to do list and began the process of settling John’s estate, helping us start a new life. She helped deal with financial matters: the mortgage, the insurance, the pension, making a will.
In the years that followed, we became part of her extended family and were showered with gifts at Christmas. She was my daughter’s confirmation sponsor and sang at her graduation. Barb and Will were her COR parents.

My daughter remembers laughing so much during that time. What a wonderful memory. That is Barb. Some might call her irreverent. But I think that when someone of great faith makes you laugh, you know God has a sense of humour. I had several friends named “Barb” who had never met each other so we labeled them appropriately. There was Toronto Barb, work Barb, neighborhood Barb. She was choir Barb or legal Barb. But she wanted to be known as Malibu Barb.
Well, here’s to Malibu Barb. Even though we don’t see each other as often as we used to, she is always in my heart. It is 20 years since we met and she has shown me more than a lifetime’s worth of kindness, love, friendship and compassion. She inspires me to be a better friend.

hoping you will experience heroic friendship when you need it most
your friend
alexsandra

...another post from the "if i had a blog" series of email

The words, they find me.

I have had these words from St. Arbucks (that's what the cool kids are calling it) on my coffee cup two out of three times in 2 weeks:

The Way I See It #275

When I wake up in the morning, I want to know that my family, friends and fans know what I believe in and what I'm all about. That's what should be important.
~Robert Randolph, musician

In Loving Memory

This was one of the email blogs that I sent through the summer. It was to remember the anniversary of my husband's passing. Today I post it on my new blog, to remember our wedding anniversary. It would have been our 27th.

“…like the rush of a mighty wind…. God raised him up, having loosed the pangs of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by it…..therefore my heart was glad, and my tongue rejoiced; moreover my flesh will dwell in hope.”

Acts 2: 2, 24

When I found these words last week, I was reminded of what we felt at my husband’s funeral. The priest gave the final blessing at the graveside and I heard him say “this is no one’s fault….we are here to celebrate this man’s eternal life”. Immediately I felt a wave of cool air on what was the hottest day of the summer. It rose up from the grave touching my face as it rushed skyward. I turned to Frances and asked her if she felt the cool breeze and she nodded yes. I said “Daddy turned on the air conditioning for us” He was some skilled tradesman.

He had bravely fought depression and alcoholism for many years; was the best father and husband he could be; a man of integrity and humour who worked 7 days a week so that he would not drink, went to therapy and detox. When he was sober he was grateful for every good thing in his life. When the addiction took hold, he was tormented and despised his perceived weakness. He lost the battle to suicide. Overnight, he was gone.

Standing at the grave, I knew in an instant, that John was finally at peace and I felt that peace deep inside. I walked away from the grave, smiling, knowing he was really ok now…the darkness was over. I asked a few people if they felt the breeze. What a strange question when the temperature was over 100 degrees. I could see the pain on their faces and the sweat pouring down. No one felt it. Weeks later I was with his best friend’s wife, and I asked, did you feel a cool wind at the grave? She did! She said she thought it was John’s spirit lifting up to heaven.

I found this joke just in time for his anniversary, and with his Scottish humour, he would see this as a fitting memorial:

A heating and cooling technician trained a small chimpanzee to help him. The chimp was the perfect assistant. He wasn’t afraid of heights. And because he was small, he could squeeze into ducts to work on them. Best of all, the technician didn’t need to pay him. One day, a customer called because his air conditioning was running and running. But the house didn’t seem to be cooling down. The technician examined the cooling system and found a problem in the ducts. The customer asked if it would be difficult to fix. “Nope,” said the technician, “I have a little duct ape that will fix the problem”.

hoping words of comfort and humour fill your life
your friend

alexsandra

I understood these words

Today I experienced something very beautiful. I went to a French Church to attend the funeral for the father of a friend. Even though I didn't understand the words it was poignant, lovely and filled with God's Grace.

One reading was said in English and it began "God is love..."

The priest spoke with love. I could tell that he knew this man as he related anecdotes and moved close to the family. I could see them nod their heads and at times people chuckled at the stories. People also cried. I heard the word sacrifice a number of times. "Le grande sacrifice..." The sacrifice a father makes for his family, the sacrifice a man makes for a friend. As I sat there listening to words I could not understand I could see the Cross and I realized my faith is built on love and sacrifice.

Love...

Sacrifice...

These are the words I understood.
God bless you my friend and God bless your father.

My neighbourhood

Yesterday I was sitting in a chair beside my house soaking up the September sun. My daughter was about to cut my hair. This is one of the benefits of giving birth to a hairstylist: getting your haircut outside in the sun. I heard her talking to someone so I walked to the front. It was our friends mom who is a visiting nurse. She was there for Stella, who is in her 80's and is not well. There was an ambulance to take her to the hospital for a "checkup". Stella should not be living alone. She has had some falls. She has help coming in everyday to help with meals and housework.

Her husband died about 6 years ago. They have no children, no family in Canada. They came here after the war from Poland. She has stories of hardship and separation. She told me she sees Jesus everyday and one day He will be taking her with Him.

"Not today"said the nurse.

"Greap" Tomatoes

That's what the sign said at the roadside veggie stand I visited on Saturday. The stand sits at the front of a very long vacant lot that has a huge garden tended by a grandfatherly European man with a thick accent. He was tending the garden while I chose tomatoes from the table. Beside the tomatoes was a jar that said "donations for a new church". There was another sign that said "flowers...pick up yourself". When I walked back to pay for the tomatoes I admired the flowers and asked how much. Spreading his arms widely he said:

"Anything you want...it's all for the Glory of the Lord"

This is why I read blogs...

Today I viewed the blog of Kodak employees. The pictures and posts are worthy of your time. Especially the ones of Vera Sytch. She visits the Ukraine and takes pictures that make me melt into a blubbering idiot.

There are pictures of women especially widows, whose lives are very different from ours in North America. There is also a picture of a hole in the ice where she nearly died during a dive. She was with her partner and husband to be. She was resuscitated. He was not.

While coming to terms with the trauma, loss, and physical recovery she describes seeing every detail of life differently. She documented this new sight with pictures and beautiful words about seasons, grasshoppers, wildflowers, memories, icicles. It reminded me of the way I feel transformed by words and the extraordinary moments in my life. I too came to see life differently through loss.

In Vera's words:

"...I realized just how completely I'd accepted death under the water's surface. I felt I was privy to a great secret: each moment on this earth is a special gift. It saddened me that most people rush through life and don't appreciate this gift."

Today, in this moment, let's appreciate the gift together.

your friend
alexsandra

Laughing all the way to the recycling box...

I Power Blogger

I've chosen to use Blogger as my blog host. I wanted to be at Wordpress. The cool kids have blogs at Wordpress. Artists, scholars, musicians, photographers, ragamuffin soul. I know there's a few of those at Blogger(not ragamuffins...). But there's a lot of "others" also. I'm not going to elaborate. You know what I'm talking about. There's some really bad neighborhoods around here so be careful.

I started out at Wordpress. I just couldn't figure it out. Oh I had a nice little template and I made a few posts. But that's as far as it went. I tried to look at the FAQ's, but I couldn't even figure out the questions let alone the answers. In one post my font size is really tiny and in another it's REALLY BIG...

It's a much better neighborhood at Wordpress. When I blog surf there it's an endless surprise of treasures. Lots of great words. I drive through the neighborhood and it seems all good. But for now at least I am here. And I wonder whether I am supposed to be here afterall. Because The Guy that I believe in, you know, That Guy, didn't hang out with the cool kids or in the best neighborhoods either.

I'm Still Standing

another "if i had a blog this would be today's entry..." from the email archive

If not for your goodness
If not for your grace I don't know where I would be today
If not for your kindness I never could say I'm still standing
If not for your mercy if not for your love I most likely would have given up
If not for your favor I never could say I'm still standing but by the grace of God

On Friday I was in Toronto, shouting these words as they were sung by the Lakewood Church Choir from Houston. I wasn’t even going to go to the concert, even though this music makes me jump up and down, cry, laugh, put my hands up and PRAISE! I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do that in public. There were lots of other reasons not to go: I have few vacation days, I’m not familiar with the venue, it would be hard to walk around, and I need the weekends to prepare for the busy week.

A friend called and said there was a bus tour to the concert. The tour cancelled. I made numerous calls to the ticket agent, the venue, fan services, the corporate office, the parking office, trying to get answers to simple questions like where is the elevator, and how many stairs to my seat? That day was booked at work. Then my friend cancelled, so I would have to drive alone. This day had so many strikes against it; it would have been easy to give up. Sometimes it seems easier to give in to circumstances.

Well, my supervisor gave me the day off. And the drive was perfect. I navigated through rush hour traffic and arrived on time. My wonderful Toronto friend prepared a dinner of grilled tuna and mango salad and the best gluten free bread I have ever had. She invited friends: 5 amazing women. I sat next to Heather from Dallas who has lived gluten free for 10 years. Then we went on to the concert, to reserved parking in the underground. My name was on a “list” at the gate. I have never had my name on a list at an event! They scanned our tickets as we drove in, a cheerful elevator attendant took us to the concourse for our level; no crowds, no turnstiles, no lineups. We had seen all the crowds at the gates outside. I went to guest services and was given an easy to reach alternate seat. A woman in line next to me was told, repeatedly, there was “absolutely no alternate seats” (my name was on a list there too). The concert started and they sang my favorite songs, the ones that make me cry, laugh, jump up and down and raise my hands in PRAISE and I did all that in public. I was inspired by the speakers and the message.

The drive home was “magical”, all the little fans of a popular book being released, dressed up and walking around the twinkle lit city night. More highlights: relaxed late night conversation, lunch with my favorite cousin, meeting her new grandson, driving home on 3 hours sleep and staying awake, discovering a new Christian radio station in Chatham, hot Timmy's coffee for the journey, gluten free chili from Wendy’s.

I am going to tell you a secret: I have never really understood what the grace of God meant. I thought I knew, but I wasn’t sure. Now I know. I stepped out in faith and I received God’s grace. Goodness, mercy, kindness, favor, love, grace; I’m still standing!

may you be showered with grace
your friend
alexsandra

Calvin Cooke

Here's one of the songs from Gospel Music Fest that got the neighbours rocking.

There is something very special about open air concerts. While Calvin Cooke and his steel guitar were singing so were the people who were not within the fenced off concert area. It was awesome to watch.

On the grassy field next to the audience kids were tossing a football. They were moving, singing and shouting this song while they threw their football. There was a lady sitting on her porch holding a small dog and moving to the rhythm of the steel guitar. She was dancin' with that dog. There were people walking dogs who stopped at the fence. Some were sitting on porches clapping and toe tapping, their white sneakers moving in the distance. We were all part of that moment, singing these words together. Here’s Calvin, who is in his sixties performing this song at Purdue IN. When you see this you'll be singing too.

Help me make it through...

"Grandma"

this was one of the emails sent with the title "if i had a blog this would be today's entry"

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself." Luke 10:27

This weekend I had the delight to drive 4 hours with “Grandma”. She is not my grandma but I think I may adopt her. She turned 90 last December. She stills lives in the house that her and her late husband bought in 1947, tends to the double lot garden, shovels snow for herself and the neighbours and cleans out the eaves. “I do everything, but I don’t get up on the roof...not the high part”, she says.

She has broken both hips, one many years ago while doing the bunny hop at a wedding, wearing high heels. The other hip was broken taking butter tarts to a neighbour on a snowy day. She can still fit into her size 6 wedding dress and, every Sunday, attends the church where she was married. She walks to get her groceries because she gave up her car last year. Not because she couldn’t drive; she successfully navigated me through the back roads of Southwestern Ontario without a map. Her mechanic said her car was so old it wasn’t worth putting any money into it. She didn’t want a new car, since she could drop dead in a month and then her children would have to sell it.

When I said that everyone told me to take a certain route to our destination, she said they were wrong and she would tell me her way. She eats lots of fresh vegetables and fruit, but she also finished her coffee and donut with a “chaser” of straight cream out of the container just to take away the coffee taste. When we were arranging this trip, I was told to call her from 11:30am to 12:15pm or after 7pm. She is busy volunteering at a nursing home.

Even she can’t believe that her children are senior citizens. She has decided not to clean out her packed recipe drawer. “When I die they can just dump it all in the garbage. Why waste my time?” She is my hero.

hoping we will all live so well, for so long
your friend
alexsandra

The 23rd Psalm

I found prayer cards everywhere when my husband died. They were in his lunch box, his pockets, his van, on the nightstand. They were all the 23rd Psalm. I think he would have liked this child's version. Thanks to MCT for sharing it.

My landscaper

He knocked on my door and said he would cut my grass for "5 bucks". He even had his own lawn mower. He works fast and does a great job. He pushes that lawn mower about 8 blocks to get to my street. He trims the hedges, puts down mulch, cleans out the garage, washes windows and cleans my car. As soon as he is done he knocks on the door and asks if there is anything else to do. He just turned 15.

We were chatting on his last visit, the day before his 15th birthday, talking about some upcoming projects that he could do around the house. I mentioned my appointments for exercise therapy to restore my knees and walking ability. I said I wanted to be able to travel and be mobile again. He looked me straight in the eyes and said:

"You can do anything if you believe in yourself."

Father's Day 2007

This was the first email I sent out with the title "if i had a blog this would be today's entry". I had to tell everyone about this and an email seemed like the best way...

...we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us.... Romans 5:3-5

Today was an amazing day....to honour fathers that are still with us and to remember those who have gone before us. I was blessed to be with good friends who provided a bounty of wonderful food and thought provoking conversation.

After dinner I went on to mass. Sunday night is Life Teen Mass, and is open to all ages. There are many young people and young families. I was alone and could not help but think of my father and my husband who are no longer with us. I was so moved by a young father who sat in front of me. His hands and feet tapped through all the music, and then when he went for communion, he knelt on one knee. That act of respect and reverence filled my heart with gratitude as I received Communion....I started to cry; I could hardly make it back to be seated as tears glided down my cheeks. Why could I not stop crying?

I tried to wipe the tears and then I just gave up. I decided I would stay longer in my seat to compose myself after the mass ended. Everyone but a handful of people had left, when a young man came up behind me and said "I don't know who you are, or what you are going through, but I want you to know I am praying for you...and you are loved" He hugged me, smiled and walked away. The tears started again.

I talked to our coordinator as she was shutting off the lights and blowing out candles and shared these moments. I said that I don't know why I can't stop crying and called myself a blubbering idiot. She said, at least you are a blubbering idiot for the Lord!

that's me…a blubbering idiot for the Lord

may God bless you and give meaning to your every moment

your friend

alexsandra

Driving home a different way

I decided to go home a different way. I stayed a little longer at work to chat so it was 1am. I didn’t have my cell phone so I thought it would be safer to go a well lit route even if it takes longer and there are too many stop lights.

I got to the first main cross street and a red van pulled up on my right in the turning lane honking and the woman driving was waving at me. I rolled down the window and she asked how to get to The Regional Hospital. I quickly told her just keep on this road and told her to pull out in front of me. It started to rain. As she went ahead I followed and realized I should have given better directions, should have said it’s on the left, should have said follow me I live near there. She slowed down at intersections so I knew she didn’t know where she was going. I passed her and signaled to follow me. Every stoplight was green. I drove her right to the emergency entrance and turned to circle out of the parking lot. She followed behind me so I slowed down as she pulled up beside me again, opened her window and said “God Bless you…my daughter is sick, it started to rain, I didn’t know the way. God Bless You”.

I mumbled something although I can’t remember what. I looked back to see her pulling her car into a spot near the ER door. The whole thing was over in under 10 minutes.

Every week since I started sharing my words and transformed moments , I wonder if I’ll have something to write about. I've stopped wondering.

your friend

alexsandra

My blog name

Some people may wonder how our family got a nice Irish name like Kelly.

The story I heard was that when my grandfather opened a butcher shop in Toronto's Cabbagetown the customers couldn't pronounce his Macedonian name. To them it sounded like Kelly because most of them were Irish. The name stuck. When we get together it is a Kelly reunion.

So Kelly is a real name in our family. Just not my legal name. And I like that with my first name beginning with the letter A it reads " a" kelly because that's what I am and always will be. A Kelly...from Cabbagetown.

transformed by words

Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind... Romans 12:2

I don’t remember when I thought of it. The thought was just there.

I was dealing with loss, working through it. I realized I could concentrate on death or life. This phrase came to mind: “Transformed by Words”.

Every day was a choice. Do I think about my husbands last tragic moments or the love he left with us? Do I think about my mother dying with dreams unrealized or her last 5 words to me that healed all the hurt we ever had between us. I came across my gratitude journal where I had listed the 5 things I was grateful for each day in the 6 months prior. They were poignant reminders of joyful moments. Loved ones now gone, yet their lives were so much more than their deaths and all their goodness lived on in us. I found the words and they would forever change my life. The inspirational words I held on to, the words of family and friends who cared, the important words said and unsaid; and most of all, The Eternal Word.

I didn’t know what it was going to be, but I started to write about it. I couldn’t imagine sharing this writing, because it just seemed like a journal to me. Who would want to read my journal? 10 years later and there are online web logs (blogs) and email.

I was afraid to share my words, but once I did, those who were touched by them gave me courage. I realized it wasn’t about me. These are the words that I keep in my heart to remind me everyday what is most important in my life. These are the words I am sharing with you. I am sending these words to find those who need them today.

hoping your moments will be transformed,

your friend

alexsandra

Christening the Blog

For Serious Words for a Christening read a more recent post by clicking here.

(This post is my silly words for my blog.)

This is the official Christening picture of my blog.
I haven't changed much, although I do have more hair now.
Haven't worn a frilly dress in years.
Wanna share your Christening/Baptism pic?
Or your baby pic? (I wanna see what a cute baby you were!)
Email it to me and I will post it!

(I mentioned my lack of an arch to my daughter who does my eyebrows...she says this picture proves that I never had an arch and it is not her fault.)

Nancy the Cat

This is Nancy.
She is a very intense yawner.
She also works the afternoon shift.

Can you write a caption for this photo?