The value of you

Note: This blog post is dedicated to the memory of MaryAnne Coyle, who died last night after suffering a burst anuerysm. She was an activist dedicated to the realization of hopes for a nuclear-free world. Thank you, MaryAnne, for the gift of you. You will be missed.

The flowers have been beautiful this year, and it has been my joy and my honor to be able to tend to gardens. The work is very life affirming. In the midst of a world filled with violence and heartbreak, there is still the garden. There are still plants dressed in vivid colors and perfumed with delightful aromas.

All the plants have to do is to exist. They bring joy, just because they exist.

And so do you. All you have to do to have value is to exist. You need do nothing more, just like those flowers, arrayed in their colorful finery.

Maybe you formed pottery with your hands. Maybe you planted the flowers or carefully dug out the weeds.

Maybe you patiently waited for a flower to open, to show its face to the world. Maybe it took as long for you to open, to shine, to share your gifts with the world. Some people take longer to shine than others. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was a child prodigy who was composing music, at an age where most are attempting to write their own names. Grandma Moses' gift for painting didn't come until she was an older adult. The child prodigy and the late bloomer blossomed when they were ready, and the world is richer for it. 

Maybe you were looking forward to the visit of a frog. Not a prince. A frog. The frog is beautiful, too. It is vivid green. The frog, like the plants, brings joy just by its existence.

Maybe you were watching the cone flowers, as they attracted bees. Perhaps you weren't afraid of the bees. Or maybe you were, but you were brave enough to watch the bees doing their bee dance around the cone flowers.

Maybe you were just walking, lost in thought, but you saw these flowers, which attract the eye, just because of their colors and their shapes.

Maybe you saw this. This feels like magic, sort of like life. There are times when just being feels like magic. It feels that way when I can feel the flowers and smell the newly turned earth. It feels that way when a friend tells me a story. It feels that way when you smile.

Maybe you watered the plants or danced in the rain. 

Maybe you got dressed up for the one you love most.

Maybe you offered help and support to someone who is shy.

Maybe you watched the sun rise and then set and the moon shine above the earth. Maybe you counted the stars in the sky, stopping only when you were mesmerized by the twinkling of just one star.

 

Maybe you arranged flowers into a colorful setting.

You are one of many bright lights in the world. Too many to count. And, if you try to count the bright lights in the world, you may stop when you become mesmerized by just one.

Thank you for reading my stories and for sharing your light with me.

Restaurant review! Taj Grill!

Yesterday, Jean and I went to eat Indian food at the Taj Grill. It is located in the City of Buffalo, at 2290 Delaware Avenue. It is a small strip mall that was recently developed. 

This is north Buffalo. If you like to eat a variety of foods, this is the place to go. Not far from this strip mall is Hertel Avenue, with a plethora of restaurants. You can enjoy Palestinian food, Italian food, Thai food, and much more. You can eat in a casual setting or in a very formal setting. On one long street in Buffalo, you can explore the world via its food.

At the Taj Grill, Jean and I were able to make our selections of food at the luncheon buffet. I enjoyed arranging the food on my plate, and, of course, I also enjoyed eating the food! Since I am a newbie at eating Indian food, I had to write down the names of everything that I chose so that I would remember what they were. I had chicken tandoori, chicken meatball xacutti (spicy chicken curry), chana bhatura (garbanzo beans in an onion and tomato curry sauce), fresh cut beans with potatoes, idli (a savory South Indian cake), and basmati rice.  According to the menu, the chicken tandoori is "marinated in yogurt and fresh ground herbs and spices and baked in a clay oven." The menu also describes the oven: "Tandoor is a traditional Indian clay oven fired by charcoal in which food is baked." I also had a piece of naan, which is an Indian flat bread. That bread is also baked in a tandoor clay oven.

Yummy. It was an interesting, and delicious, combination of foods, with varying textures and flavors.

This lovely gem was sitting on the bar. The restaurant was comfortably cool. The noise level was reasonable. Music was playing at a moderate level, and it was easy to carry on a conversation.

This lovely dessert was also available at the buffet. It consists of kheer (rice pudding) and a mango custard. The dessert was sweet and very light. 

Lunch was delightful. For just a little more than ten dollars each, we had plenty of delicious food. If you find yourself in Buffalo, this is a great place to visit to enjoy a great variety of food.

River world haiku

The sun has risen
Flower petals open up...
a glorious day.

Stretch to the blue sky
maybe you'll reach, maybe not,
try with all your might.

Clusters of daisies,
little bright rays of sunshine
grow from the soft ground.

lavender and green
prickly orange centers,
lovely cone flowers.

Paint-splattered center
of flower shaped like trumpets:
horticulture's song.

Magical orange
of dramatic marigolds
arranged in baskets.

Delicate purple
of itty bitty flowers
growing on a stem.

Bright Rose of Sharon
set off by vivid green leaves
on a sunny day.

Wascally wabbit
going to gardens for snacks?
"Where is my carrot?"

Line up of boats
waiting to be steered away.
Niagara River.

Geese gather in groups
for an early morning date,
they cackle and honk.

A view of the dock
of the blue sky and water,
a mid-summer's day.

The sunflower's face
looking toward the yellow sun
with petals outstretched.

Soft yellow roses
protected by sharp, sharp thorns,
grows near river world.

summertime in river world (a tribute to Doctor Seuss)

Summertime and all is green and bright.
When bees and fish and mice are dancing and singing all night. 

What do you do in summer?
It's for sure never a bummer.
You could look for a cat
wearing a super tall hat
or you could play with a chicken.
A chicken named Rickin.
"Rickin?" you say. "But Rickin is a silly name for a chicken."
Can you think of a new name for the chicken?
Hurry, because the time, it is a-tickin'

I'll smack at that chicken
who calls himself Rickin.
I'll wave my stick
That will do the trick.

With a good swing,
I can do anything.

I swing with a flair
as it waves in the air.

And down comes the bird
with nary a word

I watch it fall,
spilling out candy for all.

Back by the river stand the trees, tall and small,
birds, large and small, sing out and call.
They sing their bird songs,
their very long bird songs.

Oh, says that cat, who rides in the boat.
I think that I will hop out for a float.
But no, says the dog, a cat does not like to swim.
Are you a barber? You could give my hair a trim.

Back on land, the cat wandered off to look for some berries
or grapes or cherries or some extra fine cherries.
He had fallen from the boat into the drink.
Causing his nose to become a strange shade of pink.

At the end of the day,
the cats go out to play.
They write,
they fight,
they bite,
they fall in a space
that is very
very
very
very
tight.

Then the cats go to visit the mice
They bring something nice.
A bit of cheese
a toy that the squeeze
to make a squeak
because that is mouse for speak.

They plant a lovely flower
to show off the mousy power
to show that the cat will be a friend
far beyond the end.

Remembering April

Eight years ago, I met a lady named April. She was 67 years old and not in good health. She had been sent to federal prison to serve a six-month sentence.

April was a sweet lady. She had a ready smile. Some of us discovered that April was very ticklish. She even giggled in anticipation of the tickle. In fact, she started giggling when she saw fingers coming in her direction. Everyone in the federal prison camp in Danbury, Connecticut, loved April.

Being in prison was very hard on April. She always seemed a little sad at being taken away from home. One time, I asked April, "How long will you be here?"

"Oh, a long time," April said. "A very long time."

Her time turned out to be longer than I could imagine, longer than her sentence would indicate.

April had a heart condition. One day, she was taken to the hospital for a medical procedure. She was away for several hours, and then, she came back. That was on a Thursday. I had heard that the doctors wanted to keep her in the hospital overnight, but that prison officials said that April's furlough had expired and that she had to be returned to the prison.

On Saturday morning, I was asked to draw a "get-well" card for April. I was given card stock and colored pencils. I drew the card. Everyone in the camp signed the card.

I did not see April receive her card, but I was told that she liked it very much. The card was full of sentiments of love and support for April.

That afternoon, April was taken back to the hospital. She collapsed and became unresponsive.

I had heard that someone asked the corrections officer how April was doing. He said that she was not doing well and for everyone to please pray for her. We prayed for April.

A few days later, April passed away. Her family, I was told, was with her when she passed.

Eight years ago, on July 26th, there was a memorial service for April in the federal prison camp in Danbury, Connecticut. We got together and shared our feelings about April. We sang and we read Bible stories.

I will never forget April. She was a gem.

She was taken away from the world too soon.

Rest in peace, April, and know that you were loved and that you have not been forgotten.