tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1535065631931812432024-03-12T21:50:27.442-07:00Mahlou MusingsElizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.comBlogger193125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-59248483699980859282013-02-10T14:19:00.002-08:002013-02-10T14:19:36.308-08:00Dear Mahlou Musings Blog Readers:<br />
<br />
Recently, my life has
become quite overwhelming with new responsibilities at work and a number
of activities at home along with an increasing desire to finish writing
my next book, <i>Raising God's Rainbow Makers</i>, which, I guess,
means that I really should be working on it more seriously than I have
been able to do up until now. I find that I cannot keep up with posting
on a regular basis. For that reason, I will be taking a hiatus of at
least several months. I do hope to occasionally post an installment of the "Rainbow" book as I finish various pieces. <br />
<br />
Thank you all for being
loyal and interactive readers. I have enjoyed getting to know you, and I
will continue to pray for the well being of you, your family, and
friends.<br />
<br />
Elizabeth MahlouElizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-19219359270186911292013-01-01T09:04:00.003-08:002013-01-01T09:04:49.140-08:00Happy New Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ZraHb_ZfM3OPvN-Z8faAjYNCSA_ZaNt9P59snNyCIZbahvVBHgOosP83cxZokGoS6kdg-EvUlBOb7I5tp9S7PKOfC8d-fQsH711XjUtjkEwIWcFYAVK8zxUOk0Lv_7tivoXhjmpYC7T9/s1600/New+Year.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ZraHb_ZfM3OPvN-Z8faAjYNCSA_ZaNt9P59snNyCIZbahvVBHgOosP83cxZokGoS6kdg-EvUlBOb7I5tp9S7PKOfC8d-fQsH711XjUtjkEwIWcFYAVK8zxUOk0Lv_7tivoXhjmpYC7T9/s1600/New+Year.jpg" height="293" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
May the new year bring you much of what you want and more of what you need! Thanks for taking the 2012 journey with me. Looking forward to what 2013 may bring. (I actually stayed awake through the passage into 2013, the first time in more than ten years. I hope this is a good portent of things to come -- for me and for everyone else.)Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-78320685118640944892012-10-11T07:22:00.001-07:002012-10-11T07:22:33.517-07:00Away LongerMy Syrian friends gave me two weeks of rest and relaxation, much
needed and much enjoyed. Now, they are on their way back to Scotland
where they have acquired some work and probably won't return to Syria
until and unless life calms down. Well, maybe they will visit friends
and family during the less troubled moments...much prayer needed for
them and all Syria.<br />
<br />
As for me, after one day back to
work and, seemingly, life going back to normal, things took a
not-unexpected twist. My sister-in-law who has been suffering from Stage
IV lung cancer was hospitalized and then immediately hospicized for a
pulmonary embolism. My brother called and said that if I wanted to see
her while she was still alive, I should come back home immediately,
which is what I am doing. That is easier said than done. I come from
rural Maine farm country where there is no public transportation, so the
trip will be an all-day one from San Francisco to Boston by plane,
followed by a bus trip to New Hampshire, where my brother can pick me up
in his car and take me the final hour's drive home. Once a travel agent
told me "you can't there from here," so since then I have been my own
travel agent on trips home. I do know how to get there from here. It
just takes a lot of time and a lot of conveyances.<br />
<br />
I
am hoping that I will be able to share some of her final hours with my
sister-in-law and then help my brother post-funeral with whatever I can
help. Being the oldest of the eight of us, I find that there is always
something with which I can help and for which I am wanted.<br />
<br />
Rural
Maine is not entirely on the Internet grid yet, so please bear with me
as a remain silent probably until nearly the end of October. When I am
back, you all will know. There will be a post, the first in a long time!<br />
<br />
Prayers for you all in my absence, and please pray for those in my life who need God's solace.Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-74115586502751811102012-09-14T20:05:00.001-07:002012-09-14T20:05:44.092-07:00Taking a Break<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq08upKe7IWnbgzf-AJVP3VQL28jp4VC3kGsluRTiwUs95ooMvh5roJE3vXhGhwx7q75WntgVMPibz2fZkBI1kUTyiBurOeNZKlTgEtcfVPlIopQKPgo9ICLFnXxpMIlpvjaDrjlbS45jv/s1600/relaxation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq08upKe7IWnbgzf-AJVP3VQL28jp4VC3kGsluRTiwUs95ooMvh5roJE3vXhGhwx7q75WntgVMPibz2fZkBI1kUTyiBurOeNZKlTgEtcfVPlIopQKPgo9ICLFnXxpMIlpvjaDrjlbS45jv/s1600/relaxation.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1AzoxfPK25ZNp0hU7W_hk5HcJa5oDuJtZ_iUbhsgXqmmMnGpAcjodUGf3PkVRnaCO-sr8DLZ0iRHIIp3wZRylwoyVF0dAT1LvGsevi2xKT0QmyLApEorse5im8kfjZtyB8JYK2025S5b0/s1600/relaxation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1AzoxfPK25ZNp0hU7W_hk5HcJa5oDuJtZ_iUbhsgXqmmMnGpAcjodUGf3PkVRnaCO-sr8DLZ0iRHIIp3wZRylwoyVF0dAT1LvGsevi2xKT0QmyLApEorse5im8kfjZtyB8JYK2025S5b0/s1600/relaxation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>I will be taking a break from blogging for the next 2 1/2 weeks (until October 5). I have friends arriving tonight from faraway Syria, and I really need to be able to spend undiluted time with them. They will not be here for long. So, while I regret not being able to post the Monday Morning Meditation (the other posts are of lesser importance), I know that you will be able to scroll down to the last MMM and click on Fr. Austin's link and have a nice cup of Monday morning coffee and reflection with him.<br /><br /><br /><br />And I wish to all of you who stop by in the interim a blessed day, week, month. Thank you for dropping in and being a part of my life.Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-48418375620791828462012-09-01T23:19:00.000-07:002012-09-02T02:30:05.007-07:00A Book Especially for Widows<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOaZUbIiBQElwWyyaPB0tNCcDxc11sxKLUBhhKBH5V3LHUC1kkiNCnxANGFynw4tz5Fgno9znWoMBRpIqFinNWx3Pnlmsbft8ZEOL-hEA6YZjVXjCpbJF8lyQe61G1ZlRtDrToZjUe9XM/s1600/widow+survival+guide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOaZUbIiBQElwWyyaPB0tNCcDxc11sxKLUBhhKBH5V3LHUC1kkiNCnxANGFynw4tz5Fgno9znWoMBRpIqFinNWx3Pnlmsbft8ZEOL-hEA6YZjVXjCpbJF8lyQe61G1ZlRtDrToZjUe9XM/s200/widow+survival+guide.jpg" width="200" /></a>I have no idea how many widows, especially recent widows, are among the readers of this blog, but just in case there are a few I thought I would share information about a recently released book that can be of help to recently widowed women. The title is <i>Widow: Surviving the First Year</i>. It was written by Dr. Joanna Romer, an English professor and journalist who was widowed a couple of years ago and so has first-hand experience of that about which she writes. (Donnie, by the way, did the cover photography and design.) For those interested in the content, here is information about the topics covered in the book:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
This book takes new widows on a journey from the first difficult days of widowhood through 12 months of self-discovery. Along the way, you will learn how to handle emotional challenges such as suddenly being alone;
how to tackle painful tasks including cleaning out hubby's closet; and how to re-enter the world again in terms of work, personal development and socializing. Guidelines are provided for each new phase, making this book a practical self-help book you can use for re-creating your life.</blockquote>
<br />Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-26931630449275749762012-07-28T23:02:00.003-07:002012-07-28T23:03:46.265-07:00Saturday Quickie: Publisher Looking for Spiritual WritersTruly just a quickie. For anyone with a well-written manuscript, MSI Press is looking for writers of spiritual books to expand its spiritual line. The orientation is primarily Catholic, mystical or Franciscan bent, and good writing is really a prerequisite; most MSI Press, if you check at Barnes & Noble or Amazon, are 5-star (or at least 4.5-star) books. The press is a small, traditional press with close relationships with its authors and provides much personal help and "education" to new authors, including a monthly newsletter that provides updated information on what the press is doing to market books and how authors can help those efforts and become better known, but it accepts fewer than 10% of manuscripts submitted. Still, you have lost nothing more than some time to submit a query by email. You can submit the query to editor@msipress.com. The <a href="http://www.msipress.com/">press website</a> has a form that can be used, but it is not necessary. If you have access to <a href="http://www.amazon.com/2012-Writers-Market-Robert-Brewer/dp/1599632268/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1343540077&sr=8-1&keywords=writer%27s+market+2013"><i>Writer's Market</i></a>, there is a little more information there.Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-31089698661627319642012-07-21T23:51:00.002-07:002012-07-21T23:51:27.482-07:00The Desert IslandHere is a parable shared with me by a friend from the traditions of the Talmud, a Christian monk, and Buddhism -- ironic that all come together at some point. The version below is a Talmud story.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
A very wealthy man, who was of a kind, benevolent disposition,
desired to make his slave happy. He gave him, therefore, his freedom,
and presented him with a shipload of merchandise. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Go," said he, "sail to different countries, dispose of these goods,
and that which thou mayest receive for them shall be thy own." </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The slave sailed away upon the broad ocean, but before he had been
long upon his voyage a storm overtook him; his ship was driven on a rock
and went to pieces; all on board were lost, all save this slave, who
swam to an island shore near by. Sad, despondent, with naught in the
world, he traversed this island, until he approached a large and
beautiful city; and many people approached him joyously, shouting,
"Welcome! welcome! Long live the king!" They brought a rich carriage,
and placing him therein, escorted him to a magnificent palace, where
many servants<a href="" name="page_300"> </a>gathered about him, clothing him in royal garments, addressing him as
their sovereign, and expressing their obedience to his will.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The slave was amazed and dazzled, believing that he was dreaming, and
all that he saw, heard, and experienced was mere passing fantasy.
Becoming convinced of the reality of his condition, he said to some men
about him for whom he experienced a friendly feeling<br />
"How is this? I cannot understand it. That you should thus elevate
and honour a man whom you know not, a poor, naked wanderer, whom you
have never seen before, making him your ruler, causes me more wonder
than I can readily express."<br /><br />"Sire," they replied, "this island is inhabited by spirits. Long
since they prayed to God to send them yearly a son of man to reign over
them, and He has answered their prayers. Yearly he sends them a son of
man, whom they receive with honour and elevate to the throne; but his
dignity and power ends with the year. With its close his royal garments
are taken from him, he is placed on board a ship and carried to a vast
and desolate island, where, unless he has previously been wise and
prepared for this day, he will find neither friend nor subject, and be
obliged to pass a weary, lonely, miserable life. Then a new king is
selected here, and so year follows year. The kings who preceded thee
were careless and indifferent, enjoying their power to the full, and
thinking not of the day when it should end. Be wiser thou; let our words
find rest within thy heart."<br /><br />The newly-made king listened attentively to all this, and felt
grieved that he should have lost even the time he had already missed for
making preparations for his loss of power. <a href="" name="page_301"></a>He addressed the wise man who had spoken, saying, "Advise me, oh,
spirit of wisdom, how I may prepare for the days which will come upon me
in the future."<br /><br />"Naked thou earnest to us and naked thou wilt be sent to the desolate
island of which I have told thee," replied the other. "At present thou
art king, and may do as pleaseth thee; therefore send workmen to this
island; let them build houses, till the ground, and beautify the
surroundings. The barren soil will be changed into fruitful fields,
people will journey there to live, and thou wilt have established a new
kingdom for thyself, with subjects to welcome thee in gladness when thou
shalt have lost thy power here. The year is short, the work is long;
therefore be earnest and energetic."<br /><br />The king followed this advice. He sent workmen and materials to the
desolate island, and before the close of his temporary power it had
become a blooming, pleasant, and attractive spot. The rulers who had
preceded him had anticipated the day of their power's close with dread,
or smothered all thought of it in revelry; but he looked forward to it
as a day of joy, when he should enter upon a career of permanent peace
and happiness.<br />
The day came; the freed slave, who had been made king, was deprived
of his authority; with his power he lost his royal garments; naked he
was placed upon a ship, and its sails set for the desolate isle.<br /><br />When he approached its shores, however, the people whom he had sent
there came to meet him with music, song, and great joy. They made him a
prince among then, and he lived with them ever after in pleasantness and
peace.<br /><br /><i>The wealthy man of kindly disposition is God, and the slave to whom He gave freedom is the soul which He,<a href="" name="page_302"> </a>gives to man. The island at which the slave arrives is the world;
naked and weeping he appears to his parents, who are the inhabitants
that greet him warmly and make him their king. The friends who tell him
of the ways of the country are his "good inclinations." The year of his
reign is his span of life, and the desolate island is the future world,
which he must beautify by good deeds, "the workmen and material," or
else live lonely and desolate for ever.</i></blockquote>Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-35627403809414941582012-07-05T21:00:00.000-07:002012-07-05T21:00:08.051-07:00The Hermit<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:TargetScreenSize>800x600</o:TargetScreenSize>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/>
<w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/>
<w:OverrideTableStyleHps/>
</w:Compatibility>
<w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><img src="//img2.blogblog.com/img/video_object.png" style="background-color: #b2b2b2; " class="BLOGGER-object-element tr_noresize tr_placeholder" id="ieooui" data-original-id="ieooui" />
<style>
st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) }
</style>
<![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman","serif";}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><i>The following story was shared with me by a friend. He has no idea of the author, but I tracked it down to Zadig by Voltaire, a book I read in college French classes and so, therefore, the story, reworked in the version sent by my friend, sounded familiar. For me, everything was predictable from about halfway through, and the story message was evident. Not so for my friend, perhaps because his life has been more complicated than mine. I am curious about your reactions to it.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">In the
reign of King Moabdar there lived at Babylon
a young man named Zadig. He was handsome, rich, and naturally good-hearted;<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>and at the moment when the story
opens, he was travelling on foot to see the world, and to learn philosophy and
wisdom. But, hitherto, he had encountered so much misery, and endured so many
terrible disasters, that he had become tempted to rebel against the will of
Heaven, and to believe that the Providence which rules the world neglects the
good, and lets the evil prosper. In this unhappy spirit he was one day walking
on the banks of the Euphrates, when he chanced
to meet a venerable hermit, whose snowy beard descended to his girdle, and who
carried in his hand a scroll which he was reading with attention. Zadig
stopped, and made him a low bow. The hermit returned the salutation with an air
so kindly, and so noble, that Zadig felt a curiosity to speak to him. He
inquired what scroll was that which he was reading.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“It is the Book of Destiny," replied
the hermit, “would you like to read it?"</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">He handed it to Zadig; but the latter,
though he new a dozen languages, could not understand a word of it. His curiosity
increased.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“You appear to be in trouble," said the
kindly hermit.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Alas!” said Zadig, "I have cause to be
so."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“If you will allow me," said the
hermit, "I will accompany you. Perhaps I may be useful to you. I am
sometimes able to console the sorrowful."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>Zadig felt a deep respect for the
appearance, the white beard, and the mysterious scroll of the old hermit, and perceived
that his conversation was that of a superior mind. The old man spoke of
destiny, of justice, of morality, of the chief good of life, of human frailty,
of virtue and of vice, with so much power and eloquence that Zadig felt himself
attracted by a kind of charm, and besought the hermit not to leave him until
they should return to Babylon. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">”I ask you the same favor," said the
hermit. "Promise me that, whatever I may do, you will keep me company for
several days."<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: green;"> </span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span> </span>Zadig gave the promise; and they set forth
together. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>That night the travelers arrived at a grand
mansion. The hermit begged for food and lodging for himself and his companion.
The porter, who might have been mistaken for a prince, ushered them in with a
contemptuous air of welcome. The chief servant showed them the magnificent apartments;
and they were then admitted to the bottom of the table, where the master of the
mansion did not condescend to cast a glance at them. They were, however, served
with delicacies in profusion, and after dinner washed their hands in a golden
basin set with emeralds and rubies. They were then conducted for the night into
a beautiful apartment; and the next morning, before they left the castle, a servant
brought them each a piece of gold.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>“The master of the house," said Zadig,
as they went their way, "appears to be a generous man, although a trifle
haughty. He practices a noble hospitality." As he spoke, he perceived that
a kind of large pouch which the hermit carried appeared singularly distended;
within it was the golden basin, set with precious stones, which the old man had
purloined. Zadig was amazed; but he said nothing. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: green;"></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span> </span>At noon the hermit stopped before a little
house, in which lived a wealthy miser, and once more asked for hospitality. An
old valet in a shabby coat received them very rudely, showed them into the
stable, and set before them a few rotten olives, some mouldy bread, and beer
which had turned sour. The hermit ate and drank with as much content as he had shown
the night before; then, addressing the old valet, who had kept his eye upon them
to make sure that they stole nothing, he gave him the two gold pieces which
they had received that morning, and thanked him for his kind attention.
"Be so good,” he added, “as to let me see your master."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The astonished valet showed them in.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">"Most mighty signor," said the
hermit, "I can only render you my humble thanks for the noble manner in
which you have received us. I beseech you to accept this golden basin as a token
of my gratitude."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>The miser almost fell backwards with
amazement. The hermit, without waiting for him to recover, set off with speed, with
his companion. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: green;"></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>“Holy Father," said Zadig, "what
does all this mean? You seem to me to resemble other men in nothing. You steal
a golden basin set with jewels from a signor who receives you with
magnificence, and you give it to curmudgeon who treats you with indignity. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: green;"></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>“My son," replied the hermit,
"this mighty lord, who only welcomes travelers through vanity, and to
display his riches, will henceforth grow wiser, while the miser will be taught
to practice hospitality. Be amazed at nothing, and follow me." <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: green;"></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Zadig knew not whether he was dealing with
the most foolish or the wisest of all men. But the hermit spoke with such
ascendency that Zadig, who besides was fettered by his promise, had no choice
except to follow him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">That night they came to an agreeable house,
of simple aspect, and showing signs of neither prodigality nor avarice. The owner
was a philosopher, who had left the world, and who studied peacefully the rules
of virtue and of wisdom, and who yet was happy and contented. He had built this
calm retreat to please himself, and he received the strangers in it with a
frankness which displayed no sign of ostentation. He conducted them himself to
a comfortable chamber, where he made them rest awhile; then he returned to lead
them to a dainty little supper. During their conversation they agreed that the
affairs of this world are not always regulated by the opinions of the wisest of
men. But the hermit still maintained that the ways of Providence are wrapped in mystery, and that
men do wrong to pass their judgment on a universe of which they only see the
smallest part. Zadig wondered how a person who committed such mad acts could
reason so correctly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>At length, after a conversation as agreeable
as instructive, the host conducted the two travelers to their apartment, and
thanked heaven for sending him two visitors so wise and virtuous. He offered
them some money, but so frankly that they could not feel offended. The old man
declined, and desired to say farewell, as he intended to depart for Babylon at break of a day.
They therefore parted on the warmest terms, and Zadig, above all, was filled
with kindly feelings towards so amiable a man.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>When the hermit and himself were in their
chamber, they spent some time in praises of their host. At break of day the old
man woke his comrade.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>"We must be going," he remarked.
"But while everyone is still asleep, I wish to leave this worthy man a
pledge of my esteem." With these words, he took a torch and set the house
on fire.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>Zadig burst forth into cries of horror and
would have stopped the frightful act. But the hermit, by superior strength,
drew him away. The house was in a blaze; and the old man, who was now a good way
off with his companion, looked back calmly at the burning pile.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">"Heaven be praised!" he cried.
"Our kind host’s house is destroyed from top to bottom!" <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: green;"></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>At these words Zadig knew not whether he
should burst out laughing, call the reverend father an old rascal, knock him
down, or run away. But he did none of these things. Still subdued by the
superior manner of the hermit, he followed him against his will to their next
lodging.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>This was the dwelling of a good and
charitable widow, who had a nephew of fourteen, her only hope and joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She did her best to use the travelers well;
and the next morning she bade her nephew guide them safely past a certain bridge,
which, having recently been broken, had become dangerous to cross over. The
youth, eager to oblige them, led the way. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>“Come,” said the hermit, when they were half
across the bridge, "I must show my gratitude towards your aunt;” as he
spoke he seized the young man by the hair and threw him into the river. The
youth fell, reappeared for an instant on the surface, and then was swallowed by
the torrent.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>“Oh, monster!” exclaimed Zadig, "oh,
most detestable of men!” <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: green;"></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>“You promised me more patience,"
interrupted the old man. “Listen! Beneath the ruins of that house which Providence
saw fit to set on fire, the owner will discover an enormous treasure; while
this young man, whose existence Providence cut short, would have killed his aunt
within a year, and you yourself in two." <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: green;"></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>“Who
told you so, barbarian?" cried Zadig, "and even if you read the issue
in your Book of Destiny, who gave you power to drown a youth who never injured
you?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>While he spoke, he saw that the old man had
a beard no longer, and that his face had become fair and young; his hermit's
dress had disappeared: four white wings covered his majestic form, and shone
with dazzling lustre.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>“Angel of heaven!" cried Zadig,
"you are then descended from the skies to teach an erring mortal to submit
to the eternal laws?" <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: green;"></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span></span>“Men,” replied the angel Jezrael,
"judge all things without knowledge; and you, of all men, most deserved to
be enlightened. The world imagines that the youth who has just perished fell by
chance into the water, and that by a like chance the rich man's house was set on
fire. But there is no such thing as chance; all is trial, or punishment, or
foresight. Feeble mortal, cease to argue and rebel against what you ought to
adore!” <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: green;"></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">As he
spoke these words the angel took his flight to heaven. And Zadig fell upon his
knees. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-75033854999781341892012-07-03T20:33:00.004-07:002012-07-03T20:33:54.875-07:00The World Is MineFrom the Internet -- <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span id="ecxyiv34477576role_document" style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Comic Sans MS; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Today, upon a bus, I saw a
very beautiful woman<br />And wished I were as beautiful.<br />When suddenly she
rose to leave,<br />I saw her hobble down the aisle.<br />She had one leg and used
a crutch.<br />But as she passed, she passed a smile.<br />Oh, God, forgive me
when I whine.<br />I have two legs; the world is mine.<br /><br />I stopped to buy
some candy.<br />The lad who sold it had such charm.<br />I talked with him, he
seemed so glad.<br />If I were late, it'd do no harm.<br />And as I left, he said
to me,<br />"I thank you,<br />You've been so kind.<br />It's nice to talk with
folks like you.<br />You see," he said, "I'm blind."<br />Oh, God, forgive me when
I whine.<br />I have two eyes; the world is mine.<br /><br />Later while walking
down the street,<br />I saw a child I knew.<br />He stood and watched the others
play,<br />But he did not know what to do.<br />I stopped a moment and then I
said,<br />"Why don't you join them dear?"<br />He looked ahead without a
word.<br />I forgot, he couldn't hear.<br />Oh, God, forgive me when I whine.<br />I
have two ears; the world is mine.<br /><br />With feet to take me where I'd
go..<br />With eyes to see the sunset's glow.<br />With ears to hear what I'd
know.<br />Oh, God, forgive me when I whine.<br />I've been blessed indeed, the
world is</span></span></span></span> </blockquote>
-- Anonymous (wish I knew who wrote it!) <br />
<br />
<br />Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-5817413380054671602012-06-21T21:27:00.003-07:002012-06-21T21:27:40.148-07:00<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">Worth sharing, from the Internet--</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">The surgeon said, "I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it."</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="color: black;">Sally said, "Why do little children get cancer? Doesn't God care anymore? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?"</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="color: black;">The surgeon asked, "Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to the university."</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="color: black;">Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said goodbye to son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair. "Would you like a lock of his hair?" the nurse asked. </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="color: black;">Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.</span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">The mother said, "It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for study. He said it might help somebody else. I said no at first, but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.'" She went on, "My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could.</span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;">"</span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;"><br />Sally walked out of Children's Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car.</span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;"><br />The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them She lay down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Lying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said</span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;">:</span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">Dear Mom,</span></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span> </div>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say "I love you." I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Some day we will <br />see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things we boys do. You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know.</span></span></span></div>
</div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what, Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you<br /> asked Him: where was He when I needed him? God said He was in the same place with me as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children.</span></span><span style="color: black;"> </span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;"></span><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool? I have to give God His pen back now He needs it to write some more names <br />in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great.</span></span></span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore; the cancer is all gone. I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore, and God couldn't stand to see me hurt so much, either. That's when He sent the Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?</span></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">Signed with love from God, Jesus & Me</span></span></span></blockquote>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">-- Author unknown </span></span></span></div>
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"></span><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span>Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-90917396817983224002012-05-17T13:12:00.004-07:002012-05-17T13:12:46.750-07:00The Gospel of Damascus<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkYBLALtVlkvmQMhni-QpQhgh2FUHF_qxykQUWDEvalEYWmLW1V59A6BcAkLMRrP177luF443r6gGlvECrbN3xfBvd-x453LoweP2OqfBvWzM_izSRXdK5tmkkHnW5ROMA1Zb35mccJcF_/s1600/Gospel+of+Damascus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkYBLALtVlkvmQMhni-QpQhgh2FUHF_qxykQUWDEvalEYWmLW1V59A6BcAkLMRrP177luF443r6gGlvECrbN3xfBvd-x453LoweP2OqfBvWzM_izSRXdK5tmkkHnW5ROMA1Zb35mccJcF_/s200/Gospel+of+Damascus.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGczgDKDoGZlc4v2RzuxL6KXljA6rWbmmy8mUQKbObn8x2vfld3RGCtbFb_2dPpusgUdh_YkH-sf9ex7sRm2rD1YYPElKIdvwSUX94S8pcrMPHNzcnNcAUyJ0QZzcTTuceECQsbEdl7I3/s1600/Shoved+Metaphors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGczgDKDoGZlc4v2RzuxL6KXljA6rWbmmy8mUQKbObn8x2vfld3RGCtbFb_2dPpusgUdh_YkH-sf9ex7sRm2rD1YYPElKIdvwSUX94S8pcrMPHNzcnNcAUyJ0QZzcTTuceECQsbEdl7I3/s1600/Shoved+Metaphors.jpg" /></a>My friend Omar Imady, Sufi poet from Syria, living in Jordan, where I met him, has written his first novel, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Gospel-Damascus-Omar-Imady/dp/1933455101/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1336918284&sr=1-1"><i>The Gospel of Damascus</i></a>. I don't think I am just being partial to Omar and his work to say that the book is very well written. Those who have read it really like it. It takes amazing turns as you proceed through the story, and I, at least, found it impossible to put down. It just came out April 1, and Omar is looking for people to review it. If anyone is interested in reviewing it and putting a review on line at Amazon or Barnes &Noble, please let me know (elizabeth.mahlou@gmail.com) because Omar is willing to send a free copy to any reviewer. Otherwise, if you are just interested in reading it, you can find it in the usual places, all the online bookstores and in some brick-and-mortar ones, too. Omar has also set up a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Gospel-of-Damascus/161204483982532">web</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyhX5Dor-roAI-E_ufr10MgptC6N2PRor7rXsNeZv3tAxHh5hsUz7dWyzyb5eIG4rRi3PNedli_iNt91-9xQ1f2pUxV6i60vYBG2j6N8n_ytKxDmM0Ze-RHDLGdECI6JGuQyKib8lln-eY/s1600/Muslim+Civil+Society.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyhX5Dor-roAI-E_ufr10MgptC6N2PRor7rXsNeZv3tAxHh5hsUz7dWyzyb5eIG4rRi3PNedli_iNt91-9xQ1f2pUxV6i60vYBG2j6N8n_ytKxDmM0Ze-RHDLGdECI6JGuQyKib8lln-eY/s1600/Muslim+Civil+Society.jpg" /></a><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Gospel-of-Damascus/161204483982532"> page about the book on Facebook</a>. He also wrote a book earlier of Islamic short stories that has been quite popular with my friends. Even our priest used one of the stories in his homilies he was so taken by it. That book is called <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/When-youre-shoved-right-look/dp/1933455055/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1336918699&sr=8-2">When You're Shoved from the Right, Look to Your Left: Metaphors of Islamic Humanism</a></i>. And yet one more of his that is available in the United States and through the regular channels, for sure, at least, through the online bookstores is <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rise-Fall-Muslim-Civil-Society/dp/1933455039/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1336918699&sr=8-4"><i>The Rise and Fall of Muslim Civil Society</i></a>, an interesting read for anyone with an academic interest in the subject. I think the book is actually a revamping of his doctoral dissertation.<br />
<br />
Just thought I would share some good reads...Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-62185653239700640892012-02-14T01:30:00.000-08:002012-02-14T01:30:00.407-08:00Ask Forgiveness<br />
It is often easier to ask for help than to ask for
forgiveness. However, forgiving someone usually brings a sense of satisfaction
and even pleasure and being forgiven even greater reward.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How does one go about asking forgiveness? First, expect to
be forgiven. Expectation is often the greatest factor in whether or not something
happens.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Second, ask simply. Say, for example, “I hope you will have
the grace to forgive me,” or even more simply, “I’m sorry.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not everyone is ready to forgive, and that is a risk one
takes in asking. However, few can resist a direct request. And when they do
forgive, they feel good about themselves, and so do you. When this happens,
don’t forget to say “thank you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My sister, Danielle, says that admitting one’s own humanity
(i.e. the frailties that go with being human and the mistakes that one makes
because of being human) can go a long way toward defusing hostile situations.
Her approach is to say, “Well, that was less than perfect. Some days I just
seem determined to prove how human I can be. I guess I get to cancel the angel
wings and halo for another week.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She says that generally people laugh or give her a hug. Even
the sternest will relent and say something like “Well, as long as the problem
gets fixed…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Laughing at oneself in the act of asking forgiveness,
Danielle, a psychiatric nurse, claims, allows the other person to step away
from his or her perfectionism or excessively high standards for a moment and to
relax and enjoy being human. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here is another important part of forgiveness. Give credit
to the other person for being “big” enough to forgive.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As a young soldier stationed at Goodfellow Air Force Base in
San Angelo, Texas, I found my check missing one pay day, and, it turned out, it
would be missing for some time to come because of problems with the financial
paperwork associated with my belonging to the Army while stationed at an Air
Force base.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Military regulations allowed only partial cash payment in
such cases, which put me in a financial bind and would be a hardship for some
time to come. I was certain that the error was the fault of the finance
sergeant in charge of processing pay information. SSG West (not his real name)
and I exchanged some acrimonious words, but that, of course, did nothing to
improve my financial situation. A few days later, I learned that the fault was
not his and that everything that he had told me was accurate. I returned to his
office, told him what I had learned, and apologized for my earlier words. He
quickly forgave me and redoubled his efforts to help me. A few months later –
and much sooner than anyone had expected – my finances were back on track. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Soon after that, SSG West and I ended up working together,
as I was assigned to casual status in the combined personnel and finance office
while action was being taken on my application for a direct commission to
officer ranks. SSG West became my strongest advocate, and he was as pleased for
me when the commission was awarded as he would have been for himself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is a tradition in the Army that the first person to
salute a newly commissioned officer gets a silver dollar from the officer.
After the commissioning ceremony, SSG West jumped up to salute me, but the
First Sergeant (Top) of my unit beat him to it. As I handed the silver dollar
to Top, I saw disappointment on the face of SSG West. Later that day, I stopped
by the finance office and handed a silver dollar to my advocate. You would have
thought I had given him a million silver coins, not just one. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My apology in this case led to much more than forgiveness.
It led to a special relationship between an unlikely pair of friends: a black
guy from the deep South and a white girl from New England, and, later, between
a non-commissioned officer and a commissioned officer – a friendship that began
with an apology and solidified by a silver coin.</div>
<br />
----<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Excerpted and adapted from a collection of vignettes I published, copyright 2003.</span>Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-45921371348325349692012-02-09T08:13:00.000-08:002012-02-09T08:13:00.079-08:00Letter Home from a Redneck Farm Kid in the Marine Corps<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Another goodie from the Internet -- </span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"></span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Dear Ma and Pa,</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I
am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Marine
Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up
quick before all of the places are filled.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I
was restless at first because you get to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m.
But I am getting so I like to sleep late. Tell Walt and Elmer all you
do before breakfast is smooth your cot, and shine some things. No hogs
to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Practically nothing.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Men
got to shave but it is not so bad, there's warm water. Breakfast is
strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but
kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie and
other regular food, but tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the
two city boys that live on coffee. Their food, plus yours, holds you
until noon when you get fed again. It's no wonder these city boys can't
walk much.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: small;">We
go on 'route marches,' which the platoon sergeant says are long walks
to harden us. If he thinks so, it's not my place to tell him different. A
'route march' is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city
guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The
sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags a lot. The Captain is like
the school board. Majors and colonels just ride around and frown. They
don't bother you none.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: small;">This
next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for
shooting. I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk
head and don't move, and it ain't shooting at you like the Higgett boys
at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You
don't even load your own cartridges They come in boxes.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Then
we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle
with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real
easy. It ain't like fighting with that ole bull at home. I'm about the
best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in Silver
Lake. I only beat him once ... He joined up the same time as me, but I'm
only 5'6' and 130 pounds and he's 6'8' and near 300 pounds dry.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Your loving daughter ,</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Alice</span></span>Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-47210614672740748142012-02-07T01:30:00.000-08:002012-02-07T01:30:02.034-08:00Listen<br />
Listen. Such a simple idea. One we all know is important.
And yet, one that we rarely incorporate into our busy lives.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We may her many things; we listen to few. Take birds, for
example. They have marvelous songs. Each one is so different. Some years ago I
spent ten days teaching a seminar for teachers in Chisinau, Moldova. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We were at
a conference center that was very much a resort. It was located in the woods,
and each morning before the teachers (my students) arrived, I enjoyed opening
the windows and hearing the songs of the swallows that sat on the branches
outside and created background music for my instruction.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My very earliest memories of birds’ songs and the joy of
listening come from toddler days. My father would come into my bedroom in late
evening in the house we moved from when I was three, and we would sit together
by the open window each night and listen to the whip-poor-wills. The bitterroot
bouquet that came from listening to the whip-poor-wills remained in the toddler’s
mind throughout childhood and into adulthood and for nearly thirty years since
my father’s death. Although I no longer live near an area where whip-poor-wills
congregate, whenever I hear any kind of bird song, I also hear the
whip-poor-will, and I am transported back to a special moment.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Listening to people can be equally enjoyable. “How are you?”
we often ask in passing, and the expected answer is “Fine.” We do not usually
anticipate a response that is detailed, and, if we get one, we are often annoyed
that we are being detained from the destination to which we were heading when
we asked the question. Yet, when we take the time to ask the question for real
and to listen to the answer, we often find out many things we did not know, as
well as the ways in which we just might be able to help a friend or colleague
in need. If nothing else, we have just made someone feel better because
everyone likes to be listened to.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Excerpted and adapted from a collection of vignettes I published, copyright 2003.</span></div>Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-36122960989247289992012-01-21T00:54:00.000-08:002012-01-21T00:54:00.238-08:00Make Your Desire the Other Person's, TooThe easiest way to make your desire the other person's, too, is to ask questions. Often, a very simple question, asked sincerely and unemotionally, gets another person to see things your way very quickly. The following questions were raised at Individualized Education Plan (IEP) meetings for my children. They are just a few of the many situations where simple questions, calmly asked, can create an immediate change of heart.<br /><br />Before the beginning of one IEP meeting that my husband and I feared would produce verbal promises for Noelle's education that the school had no intention of fulfilling or putting into writing -- we had had experience in this area before -- we asked a very simple question, "May we tape this meeting?"<br /><br />By law, we had the right to tape, so the question was understood as <span style="font-style:italic;">pro forma</span>. We did tape the meeting, but we did not need to. All agreements at that meeting were put into writing and accomplished.<br /><br />Here is another question that will get an administrator's attention very quickly. When my younger, multiply-handicapped son's high school refused to put reading and other academic goals into his IEP, saying that such goals were inappropriate for Doah, I asked, "May I share with the media the view of school officials that literacy is not an appropriate goal for all children in the public schools?" Very quickly, reading was added to the IEP. <br /><br />At an even more difficult meeting, when the best program for Doah was at a school that was not conveniently located in our home area, officials arbitrarily and adamantly refused to place him there, clearly because of transportation inconvenience, not for educational reasons. Pressed for time to get Noelle to a medical appointment, I suggested that we had obviously reached an impasse in discussions and that I had to leave but would let the group, without me, choose how to answer my final question. I told them I could be completely flexible: I would accept either option they preferred.<br /><br />My question? Would they prefer to have a few days to figure out how to place Doah in the most appropriate program (the one we had identified) or to figure out how to present their position in court?<br /><br />They did not even ask for time to discuss the question. They immediately agreed to the placement we wanted -- which worked out so well that when the teacher was transferred to another school, Doah was transferred with her!<br /><br />In all cases, our desire quickly became the other person's when we reframed the question. In all three cases, we developed warm, long-term relationships with the administrators involved.<br /><br />----<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Excerpted and adapted from a collection of vignettes I published, copyright 2003.</span>Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-18597886955745202202012-01-14T00:16:00.000-08:002012-01-14T00:16:00.058-08:00Make Your Option the Only Possible OnePeople quickly acquiesce when there are no other options. Getting your own way is usually as simple (and complex) as making your option the only one possible. I have watched two of my own children as middle schoolers do that quite effectively.<br /><br />Each time we have moved into a new school district the tendency had been to place Noelle in special education because of her paraplegia. However, she preferred to be in regular education and was able to handle the academic work there quite well. When we moved to California from Washington in Noelle's eighth grade year, the school administration's proposal was once again to place her in special education.<br /><br />When Noelle indicated her preference for regular education, the principal explained that all children who cannot walk had always been placed into special education, and, therefore, she would, too. <br /><br />"Well, then," Noelle commented, "I wonder how you are going to handle the problem that comes with that placement."<br /><br />When the principal asked what problem she was talking about, she said, "Clearly, I'm the one who has to go to the classroom every day, and I do not intend to go to that one." She was placed in regular education and was very happy there.<br /><br />The principal met his match, as well, in her younger, gifted brother Shane, who was in her grade because he had skipped some earlier grades in school. The principal wanted to place Shane in the Gifted and Talented Education (GATE) program. however, Shane looked through the materials and found them unchallenging. He preferred to make his own program through the Independent Study program. Frustrated by Shane's lack of appreciation for the GATE program (and probably feeling the need to have another GATE student in the school program), the principal explained that being in the Independent Study program would bar Shane from school dances and other such activities. Shane replied that he preferred books to social activities and willingly accepted that restriction.<br /><br />Seeing that his words had no effect, the principal said in a rather frustrated tone, "You don't understand! You have to have a behavior problem to get into the Independent Study program!"<br /><br />Very calmly and pleasantly, Shane indicated that he would be willing to meet that entrance requirement, saying, "I could develop one if you would like." He was placed in Independent Study and was very happy there.<br /><br />Noelle made her option. Obviously, no one could physically force her to go to a particular classroom on a daily basis and monitor her to be sure she stayed there all day. The alternatives to her choice were simply too cumbersome, impossible, or undesirable.<br /><br />Shane also made his option the only choice. Of course, the principal did not want another child with a behavior problem. He could avoid that in only one way -- by meeting Shane's request.<br /><br />These two children very much enjoyed their middle school years. Noelle learned far more in regular education than she would have learned in special education and passed the state exams just fine for regular education students. Shane immensely enjoyed his learning situation. His teacher had been a gifted education teacher in earlier years and was one of the few teachers who did not fear Shane's ability to inhale information and question assumptions. For math, the teacher asked Shane to work with a tutor from the local college because Shane learned too fast for the middle-school teachers to keep up with him. She learned incredible amounts of math that year, in addition to completing most of the high school program in other subjects -- all while being in a "punitive" program rather than the GATE program that, ironically, would have asked far less of him. It was, indeed, a good year.<br /><br /><br />----<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Excerpted and adapted from a collection of vignettes I published, copyright 2003.</span>Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-53378237792114570052012-01-07T04:22:00.000-08:002012-01-07T04:22:01.787-08:00When Someone Kicks You, Still Your LegWhen someone kicks you, kicking back is not always the answer. Sometimes it seems that a nice swift kick, especially in a vulnerable spot, would garner a wonderful feeling. However, holding one's leg back from doing what it wants to do sometimes ends with even better results than any amount of revenge would have brought. In short, don't get mad, and don't get even: get what you want.<br /><br />In my own life, I have written three doctoral dissertations in order to finally finish one doctoral degree. For one fabricated reason after another, my department chair did not accept the first two. (Rumor told me that he blamed me for his not being hired at the institute where I worked and had told one of the other graduate students that I would finish my degree only over his dead body -- a rumor that appeared to be true at face value although he would not state something like this publicly and I never cared enough to expend the effort to confirm the details. Since I was a slow learner, apparently, it took two dissertations for me to realize that perhaps the rumor was true and at the very least something was wrong.) I could have sued the university, had I had the inclination, money, and energy, and I might have won. I could have taken on the chair in other ways, but I did not. I chose to move on from a painful situation, still the leg that wanted to kick back, make my career through competent work and publication, and wait for serendipity to help with the dissertation and degree issue.<br /><br />Many people along the way offered to help, and that made me feel validated. The department chair of another department at the same university wrote me a note of encouragement, suggesting that I complete the degree elsewhere and let her know when I could put the initials behind my name; that comment kept me going for years, and I was able eventually to let her know that she could, indeed, use those initials.<br /><br />Colleagues treated me as if I had "punched" the dissertation ticket, and I have not been held back in my career. In fact, I would not trade my career for any other. For that reason, too, I have not felt the need for revenge. As for the dissertations I wrote, they proved useful in other ways -- another reason for not taking revenge.<br /><br />The first dissertation topic was quite esoteric. I received a couple of fellowships to conduct the research for it in Siberia during the height of the Cold War, a time when Americans did not go to Siberia, least of all for research. I not only went there, but also <a href="http://mahlou.blogspot.com/2009/11/more-on-lizzie-back-in-ussr.html">I took my oldest daughter, Lizzie, with me</a>. Through the years, the Siberian connection has been of professional and personal value. I have many friends there, have provided much consultation there, and was able to <a href="http://mahlou.blogspot.com/2009/09/from-siberian-taiga-to-california-coast.html">bring a child artist from there to the United States for medical treatment</a>. If I had not worked on that dissertation, none of those connections would have been made. Besides, I made a conference presentation and published an article on the dissertation.<br /><br />The second dissertation topic was less exciting, but it helped me land a dream job in my specialty, a job that most people get only at the end of their careers but which I got at the beginning of mine. Although my advisor never read the dissertation, it has been published piecemeal as several articles, presented at numerous conferences, and cited in the works of others. That is better than revenge.<br /><br />The best outcome was that the trajectory of the kick landed me in an extraordinary position much later. I have now completed a third dissertation, this in in Russia, at a university that is better respected than my original university. Had either of the other two dissertations been read and processed, I would not have been eligible to do the later degree. Perhaps thanks to my earlier negative experience, I appreciated all the more the comment that was made by the department chair in Russia at the end of my dissertation pre-defense: "We don't know why you need us, but we feel fortunate that you came to us."<br /><br />----<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Excerpted and adapted from a collection of vignettes I published, copyright 2003.</span>Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-35544696798650451482012-01-01T10:18:00.000-08:002012-01-01T10:18:39.851-08:00Happy New Year! Welcome, 2012!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHvaeH9oORhyphenhyphenKPGyigiOP60FaKVzAw9N0RGcge_ixckTyzcSDmR7PZ60NYDawrF3yml5awsRDpJuHsfkAigf0qyTeOm-PlSxdYAGgYH65WDScaiHUXMYbvt5MLXdXgiJttlPOCqa_M1j2/s1600/new-year-2012-in-different-styles-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHvaeH9oORhyphenhyphenKPGyigiOP60FaKVzAw9N0RGcge_ixckTyzcSDmR7PZ60NYDawrF3yml5awsRDpJuHsfkAigf0qyTeOm-PlSxdYAGgYH65WDScaiHUXMYbvt5MLXdXgiJttlPOCqa_M1j2/s400/new-year-2012-in-different-styles-12.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Wishing one and all a blessed 2012, which has dawned bright and sunny here in San Ignatio. Along with it has arrived my first decision of the new year: whether or not to take revenge on Donnie.<br /><br /><br /><br />As usual, Donnie and I had made plans to welcome in the new year with a mini-party. Some champagne. A few snacks. And Doah.<br /><br /><br /><br />As usual, I feel asleep and became nigh onto comatose around 10:30. Doah lasted another hour, then toddled off to bed, emerging, according to Donnie, around 12:30 in the morning, like a groundhog on Feb. 2, saw his shadow, and scurried back to the bedroom.<br /><br /><br /><br />As for me, I never did wake up. Donnie, ever the photographer -- and, in this case, as is typical of our New Year's eve celebrations, the lone celebrant -- took a picture of me zonked out on the couch and pasted it on Facebook. Of course, that brought it a lot of comments!<br /><br /><br /><br />Now, he is sleeping in after all his heavy partying, and I am wide awake, greeting the sunny day and new year. Doah is dancing about, demanding breakfast, and I am ever so tempted to take a picture of Donnie, zonked out in bed, and paste it on Facebook!<br /><br /><br /><br />Happy days and interesting decisions, my friends, I wish you in 2012!<br /><br /><br /><br /><i>(note: image from stunningmesh.com -- it stunned me; hope you like it)</i><br />Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-70772097785056566042011-12-28T09:55:00.000-08:002011-12-28T09:55:00.043-08:00A Little Boy's Explanation of GodAnother gem from the Internet:<br /><br />This was written by an 8-year-old named Danny Dutton, who lives in Chula Vista, CA. He wrote it for his third grade homework assignment, to "explain God." Could anyone have done as well?<br /><br />EXPLANATION OF GOD:<br /><blockquote>One of God's main jobs is making people. He makes them to replace the ones that die, so there will be enough people to take care of things on earth. He doesn't make grownups, just babies. I think because they are smaller and easier to make. That way he doesn't have to take up his valuable time teaching them to talk and walk. He can just leave that to mothers and fathers.<br /><br />God's second most important job is listening to prayers. An awful lot of this goes on since some people, like preachers and things, pray at times beside bedtime. God doesn't have time to listen to the radio or TV because of this. Because he hears everything, there must be a terrible lot of noise in his ears unless he has thought of a way to turn it off.<br /><br />God sees everything and hears everything and is everywhere which keeps Him pretty busy. So, you shouldn't go wasting his time by going over your mom and dad's head asking for something they said you couldn't have.<br /><br />Atheists are people who don't believe in God. I don't think there are any in Chula Vista. At least, there aren't any who come to our church.<br /><br />Jesus is God's Son. He used to do all the hard work, like walking on water and performing miracles and trying to teach the people who didn't want to learn about God. They finally got tired of him preaching to them and they crucified him. But he was good and kind, like his father, and he told his father that they didn't know what they were doing and to forgive them and God said O.K.<br /><br />His dad (God) appreciated everything that he had done and all his hard work on earth so he told him he didn't have to go out on the road anymore. He could stay in heaven. So he did. And now he helps his dad out by listening to prayers and seeing things which are important for God to take care of and which ones he can take care of himself without having to bother God. Like a secretary, only more important.<br /><br />You can pray anytime you want and they are sure to help you because they got it worked out so one of them is on duty all the time.<br /><br />You should always go to church on Sunday because it makes God happy, and if there's anybody you want to make happy, it's God!<br /><br />Don't skip church to do something you think will be more fun like going to the beach. This is wrong. And besides the sun doesn't come out at the beach until noon anyway.<br /><br />If you don't believe in God, besides being an atheist, you will be very lonely, because your parents can't go everywhere with you, like to camp, but God can. It is good to know He's around you when you're scared, in the dark or when you can't swim and you get thrown into real deep water by big kids.<br /><br />But...you shouldn't just always think of what God can do for you. I figure God put me here and he can take me back anytime he pleases.<br /><br /><br />And...that's why I believe in God.</blockquote><br /><br />I wonder if an adult could have come up with a better explanation!<br /><br />The picture above is available as an oil painting from this website: <a href="http://mike-ivey.fineartamerica.com/">Mike Ivey</a>.Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-77348618450222040252011-12-24T17:51:00.001-08:002011-12-24T17:51:43.475-08:00Merry Christmas! God Bless Everyone!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifhref="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDoi-UGtD42K4VllIv3AdhdjTVblQ987F3GDIfdqCKPuUOmlPlOPFQbOc6A3ezZSPcjBnlBhYAvPAm_x2ksrB2FzK-245obQuslMc63A0EXJUvs-PJGp60otzQ-_3uYIuz_NfGwCTQyySr/s1600/Finnegan+in+the+manger.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDoi-UGtD42K4VllIv3AdhdjTVblQ987F3GDIfdqCKPuUOmlPlOPFQbOc6A3ezZSPcjBnlBhYAvPAm_x2ksrB2FzK-245obQuslMc63A0EXJUvs-PJGp60otzQ-_3uYIuz_NfGwCTQyySr/s400/Finnegan+in+the+manger.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689874402415577506" /></a>Since I do not blog on Sundays, I will post a Christmas message tonight, Christmas eve. Plans? With all the kids having flown from the nest a decade ago, Donnie and I will be having our Christmas eve dinner at a local Chinese restaurant, run by Korean, prior to midnight Mass, which is at 10:30 this evening. (It finishes at midnight, so the name is not entirely misleading.)<br /><br />As he does every year, <a href="http://emahlou.blogspot.com/2011/11/sad-black-cat.html">Finnegan</a>, our priest's cat, has wandered from the cold into the warmth of the manger. Both he, and <a href="http://emahlou.blogspot.com/search/label/Sula">Sula</a>, are parish cat, take turns sleeping in the manger. Sometimes they share it.<br /><br />Sharing warm Christmas wishes with all! May God bless each one of you tomorrow and all days of this happy season!Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-41240205938140049042011-12-20T07:45:00.000-08:002011-12-20T07:45:00.415-08:00A Christmas PoemBelow is a poem, written by a marine and shared with me through the Internet by a friend. I imagine some have seen it already, but just in case...<br /><br />TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,<br />HE LIVED ALL ALONE,<br />IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF<br />PLASTER AND STONE.<br /><br />I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY<br />WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,<br />AND TO SEE JUST WHO<br />IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.<br /><br />I LOOKED ALL ABOUT,<br />A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,<br />NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS,<br />NOT EVEN A TREE.<br /><br />NO STOCKING BY MANTLE,<br />JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,<br />ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES<br />OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.<br /><br />WITH MEDALS AND BADGES,<br />AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,<br />A SOBER THOUGHT<br />CAME THROUGH MY MIND.<br /><br />FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT,<br />IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,<br />I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER,<br />ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.<br /><br />THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING,<br />SILENT, ALONE,<br />CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR<br />IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.<br /><br />THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE,<br />THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER,<br />NOT HOW I PICTURED<br />A UNITED STATES SOLDIER.<br /><br />WAS THIS THE HERO<br />OF WHOM I'D JUST READ?<br />CURLED UP ON A PONCHO,<br />THE FLOOR FOR A BED?<br /><br />I REALIZED THE FAMILIES<br />THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT,<br />OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS<br />WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.<br /><br />SOON ROUND THE WORLD,<br />THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,<br />AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE<br />A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.<br /><br />THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM<br />EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,<br />BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS,<br />LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.<br /><br />I COULDN'T HELP WONDER<br />HOW MANY LAY ALONE,<br />ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE<br />IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.<br /><br />THE VERY THOUGHT<br />BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE,<br />I DROPPED TO MY KNEES<br />AND STARTED TO CRY.<br /><br />THE SOLDIER AWAKENED<br />AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,<br />'SANTA DON'T CRY,<br />THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE;<br /><br />I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM,<br />I DON'T ASK FOR MORE,<br />MY LIFE IS MY GOD,<br />MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS.'<br /><br />THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER<br />AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP,<br />I COULDN'T CONTROL IT,<br />I CONTINUED TO WEEP.<br /><br />I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS,<br />SO SILENT AND STILL<br />AND WE BOTH SHIVERED<br />FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.<br /><br />I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE<br />ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,<br />THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR<br />SO WILLING TO FIGHT.<br /><br />THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER,<br />WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE,<br />WHISPERED, 'CARRY ON SANTA,<br />IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE.'<br /><br />ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH,<br />AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT.<br />'MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND,!<br />AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.'<br /><br />The following is the author's request:<br /><br />Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many<br />people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is<br />due to our U.S. service men,women, and Canadian Forces for our being<br />able to celebrate these festivities.<br /><br />Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we<br />owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead,<br />who sacrificed themselves for us. Please, do your small part to plant<br />this small seed.<br /><br />Merry Christmas<br /> &<br />Happy New YearElizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-6044937323626576642011-12-17T16:02:00.000-08:002011-12-17T16:02:00.670-08:00Look Beyond the Broken FenceA popular magnet bears the inscription, "A friend is someone who looks beyond your broken fence and admires the flowers in your garden." What the saying refers to is the separation of person (flowers) and problem (broken fence).<br /><br />The separation of person and problem is the basis of unconditional love. Those who make love, friendship, or even collegiality conditional on specific behavior -- or the lack of specific behavior -- are destined to miss out on the wonderful experiences of real love. After all, the person is not the problem; the person's behavior is. Certainly, we can stop the behavior by killing the person, but then we are left with no future opportunities to receive the many blessings this person could have brought us.<br /><br />Much unhappiness in this world results from people equating person and problem. Disliked behaviors are translated into dislike for the person exhibiting the behavior, and hurt feelings result from an unwillingness to overlook behaviors that offend. I know several people who say that they never forgive or forget and avoid all people who have ever offended them. Since no one is so perfect as to never offend anyone, it is not surprising that these people tend to have few friends and lead generally unhappy and difficult lives. They seem unaware that they have the power to bring love and happiness -- and blessings -- into their lives by looking beyond all the broken fences that they see, rather than telling their neighbors that they intend to move out of the neighborhood unless the neighbors get their act together immediately and repair their fences.<br /><br />Couples who have been happily married 30, 40, and 50 years have learned this strategy. Without unconditional love, their marriages would have failed years earlier. They typically address the problem while supporting the person.<br /><br />It has been one of my tasks in life to "fix" broken educational programs. Usually this means working with teachers who are afraid of "newfangled" ideas when the old ones have worked just fine, in their opinion, for years. However, obviously the old ones have not been working find in recent days, or I would not have been brought in as a consultant. If I were to treat each of these stonewallers (and sometimes worse -- I've been called names and had scathingly negative letters written about me, sometimes even before I have arrived on site) as a personal enemies, I would never have been able to get the programs in shape (and to date, I've had no failures -- knock on wood). In nearly all cases, there was a common enemy: fear of the unknown, i.e. fear to try new things because they might not work as well as the old things. By separating the problem (resistance due to fear of the unknown) from the person, I have been able not only to fix programs but also to build teams even in places where there previously had been enmity among colleagues. It begins with deliberately separating the person from the problem and ends with not even being able to see an equation between person and problem.<br /><br />While it would be nice to have no broken fences or to see that all our neighbors are mending their fences, the fences are far less important than the flowers beyond them. If our neighbors have time to tend only to one of the other, let it be the flowers. They bring greater warmth and happiness into our lives.<br /><br />----<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Excerpted and adapted from a collection of vignettes I published, copyright 2003.</span>Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-55781773965828269922011-12-13T03:19:00.000-08:002011-12-13T03:19:00.089-08:00Saying Grace at a RestaurantHere is another one of those stories sent to me from the Internet that is too good not to share. I have no idea who the author is.<blockquote>Last week, I took my grandchildren to a restaurant.<br /><br />My six-year-old grandson asked if he could say grace.<br /><br />As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good, God is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if Nana gets us ice cream for dessert. And liberty and justice for all! Amen!"<br /><br />Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray. Asking God for ice cream! Why, I never!"<br /><br />Hearing this, my grandson burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?"<br /><br />As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table.<br /><br />He winked at my grandson and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer."<br /><br />"Really?" my grandson asked. <br /><br />"Cross my heart," the man replied.<br /><br />Then, in a theatrical whisper, he added (indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing), "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes."<br /><br />Naturally, I bought my grandchildren ice cream at the end of the meal. My grandson stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life. <br /><br />He picked up his sundae and, without a word, walked over and placed it in front of the woman. With a big smile he told her, "Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes, and my soul is good already."</blockquote>Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-21812179269535914512011-12-11T00:29:00.000-08:002011-12-11T00:30:37.524-08:00Two Anti-Hunger Websites for the Holidays<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNRyn0i4QAyMqM4Z2hXk2J0N6Nc8EcwmtJIOGZdXFpQwfO6L-4HxLxubaoYfPxfTrvZ9pcDFxkLh8rcafd7zMdfN0tKo8Bcg9w5CdNccnQXnWJMPYB9x9X_zdeV2DDVjxFJWPWakpwJ2lG/s1600/christmas+wreath.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 160px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNRyn0i4QAyMqM4Z2hXk2J0N6Nc8EcwmtJIOGZdXFpQwfO6L-4HxLxubaoYfPxfTrvZ9pcDFxkLh8rcafd7zMdfN0tKo8Bcg9w5CdNccnQXnWJMPYB9x9X_zdeV2DDVjxFJWPWakpwJ2lG/s400/christmas+wreath.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684783671054256034" /></a>As the holidays -- and all the yummy treats that most of us will be eating -- approach, I wanted to share with readers of my blogs two wonderful sites that help those who may not be feeling full during the holidays, or any time during the year for that matter.<br /><br />The first site, No Kid Hungry, is fledgling group with a good objective: www.nokidhungry.org. The leaders of the movement are asking visitors to their site to take a pledge to reach this goal by 2015.<br /><br />The other site has been around for years (at least ten years) and does wonderful work: www.thehungersite.com, and I posted about it on H2Helper a while back. This site can be visited every day, and just by spending 2-3 minutes at the site, without any investment other than time, you can help feed hungry children worldwide, contribute to saving the rain forests, help autism research, promote literacy, support veterans, and help abandoned animals -- it is an amazing site.<br /><br />Happy holidays!Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153506563193181243.post-91968094839085871612011-12-10T01:52:00.000-08:002011-12-10T01:52:00.124-08:00Learn Someone Else's LanguageLearning someone else's language, even if only partially, can go far toward allowing one a more candid view of a society or toward establishing stronger interpersonal relations. Since English seems to becoming, if not already is, the international common language, speaking the local language can cultivate much good will. Speaking the local language implies that you consider the culture and the people worthy of effort and attention. Knowing another language has stood me in good stead on many occasions, one of which is described below.<br /><br />In the spring of 1990, I went to Prague on business. One piece of business was to determine what books were being used in classrooms for Czech students so that my institute could import them for use with American students of Czech. Through a colleague, I was able to set up a meeting with senior members of the State Publishing House. Although several representatives of the State Publishing House, their assistants, and the interpreter that the State Publishing House provided, and I were seated formally around a large table, we were able to establish rapport. Soon, the State Publishing House had brought out its wares and was showing me its schoolbooks.<br /><br />Then the interpreter was called away. Almost immediately a pall came over the room. It was apparent that no one there spoke English. Using Russian, which was clearly a <span style="font-style:italic;">lingua franca</span> for all of us, would have been a cultural affront, given that I was an American, not a Russian, and given the history of Soviet domination of Czechoslovakia and its recently acquired freedom. My Czech was only a little better than survival level, but I made a gallant attempt to use it. The publishing house representatives were impressed. As a result, not only did I find out what books the students were using, but the publishing house donated one copy of every book on each subject of interest to my institute!<br /><br />On that same visit, I stayed in a local hotel. The date was May 1, 1990, the 45th anniversary of the freeing of Czechoslovakia in WWII by the United States. There was no room in the hotels in town, and the contact who was supposed to have made my reservation had been so busy preparing for the formal celebrations of the political holiday that he forgot about me.<br /><br />I quickly found out that trying to speak Czech bought me many brownie points with local hotel managers, and at one rather nice hotel, the manager found me a room for May 1 and promised to find me a room for each night I was in town. However, the room would change daily. She kept her promise, and even when she was off duty, she left instructions to her staff to find me a room.<br /><br />This arrangement sent me room-hopping daily. While I was not overburdened with luggage, it was still a bit of a hassle to be always on the move. The maids, however, came to my rescue. I would pass the time of day with them in Czech, and they got to know me. They also got to know that I was room-hopping, and they began to help me move each day even without being asked.<br /><br />I struggled with the kinds of language needed to communicate about topics that had never come up in a classroom. The maids, in turn, did an admirable job of understanding me.<br /><br />On the last day there, I found the maids on the way to the elevator and gave them some herbal tea, at the time a new concept in the United States and not yet known in Prague. Straining the limits of my Czech, I explained what herbal tea was and then bid adieu to the maids. As the elevator doors closed, a British visitor entered the elevator.<br /><br />"Cheerio," he called to the maids.<br /><br />"Have a safe trip back home," one of them responded.<br /><br />I leapt out of the elevator and confronted the maids. "You speak English?" I asked. Ironically, having become accustomed to speaking Czech with them, I instinctively asked even this question in Czech: "Vy mluvte anglicky?"<br /><br />"Ano, mluvime (yes, we do)," they replied in Czech, "but we did not tell you that because it is so wonderful to hear an American speak our language. Most people, especially Americans, do not think Czech is important enough to learn."<br /><br />No wonder they had gone out of their way to help me each day! They were proud that someone thought them important enough to talk to them in their own language even if it was painful or maybe precisely because it was painful.<br /><br />learning someone else's language does not necessarily refer only to a foreign language. Although it may be non-PC to say so, the reality of any society is that it is broken into layers (some folks might call them classes). Sociolects (language used by a particular layer of society) differ among classes. Thus, people who work in factories tend to speak somewhat differently from people who work on farms, and they speak differently from college professors -- all of whom speak differently from politicians. There is great room for miscommunication when we do not understand or even know anything about the life experiences that form the basis of sociolects used by people with whom we need to interact. Time spent learning about these differences can determine how effectively we will be able to cultivate good relationships in general.<br /><br />Also, dialects (the words and accent used in a particular geographic location) differ from region to region. Given differences in dialects, there is a great opportunity for miscommunication and for estrangement between any two individuals. We cannot create friendships if we do not know what our words mean in the dialect of the person with whom we are interacting. Nor can we expect friendship from people who do not understand us.<br /><br />Having grown up on a farm, studied at the university, and lived in every major region of the United States, I have found myself using different dialects and sociolects, depending upon the person with whom I am speaking, just I change language when I hop from country to country. Changing sociolect or dialect to match the communicative situation is equivalent to changing clothes to match the social occasion. It results in being called "one of us. "One of us" is good. "One of us" is much more likely than an "outsider" or "one of them" to get a wish granted from or to establish a true friendship with from another "one of us."<br /><br />----<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Excerpted and adapted from a collection of vignettes I published, copyright 2003.</span>Elizabeth Mahlouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00334700057953625321noreply@blogger.com0