Pieces of Heart

How well are you treating yourself and others lately?

Truth

“You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection”Gautama Buddha

This morning I was looking through my Facebook memory feed and I saw the entry above. It struck a chord; so I posted it again and within minutes, some of my friends started sharing it. Isn’t it the truth? Why is it so hard for the majority of humans to focus on our positive attributes rather than our negative ones?

I know the quote up there says that it’s not up to others to keep you encouraged and it’s true; but oh, does it help when we infuse this good advice with a healthy dose of kindness to one another? It doesn’t take a supreme effort to make another person feel good. In fact, whenever I am able to bring a smile to someone else’s heart, it makes my own heart smile.

command

This morning I made a quick stop on the way to work in order to pick up lunch. I stopped at my favorite grocery store and picked out something Keto-approved (because I am on a never ending quest to get healthier. That counts as self-love, right?). Standing in the checkout line I overheard the cashier call the customer in front of me by name. My first thought was that she must be a regular shopper. Still, it made me smile inwardly because the cashier was so kind to her.

When it was my turn, she asked me how I was, we exchanged pleasantries and she rang up my items. When she handed me the receipt, in the sweetest tone, she said to me, “Thank you, Bobbe…I really like your name!” I thanked her, wished her a great day, and I left the store smiling. I am sure the store management probably encouraged her to do this, but it didn’t matter to me a bit. It was kind. Her delivery was genuine and it made me feel good. As I pulled out into traffic, still smiling, I couldn’t help but think about how important it is to be kind to one another. She had just altered the course of my day in a wonderfully simple, yet highly positive way.

Last night we performed our regular once-per-week catering job. It’s the Fellowship Meal for the church where I work (doing finances), and I am Facebook friends with most of the people who attend. If you subscribe to this blog you already know that I adore cooking. Few things make me happier than mastering a new dish or preparing pretty food. I regularly share my food porn and my recipes on Facebook, because it’s what I enjoy. (Who doesn’t love food?)

Admittedly, there was a time when I wouldn’t share this blog anywhere because I feared what people may think. My food blogs could be construed as bragging; my inspirational writing could be construed as me believing I am above others; my angel musings could be construed as me being delusional or crazy. I was worried that people I work with might think I am (gasp) “new age”, even though I am actually the furthest thing from it. I was worried about offending people who don’t like what I like… You get where I am going with this.

deep

When I turned 54 a month ago today, I made the decision to live in authenticity. To me, this means the inside matches the outside; it means sharing exactly who I am without concern over what other people think or whether they believe the same as I do. It means that what others think of me is none of my business. Am I living my life in accordance to what I believe God wants? Am I feeling good in my own heart? To me, nothing else should be of higher importance.  Besides, if we were all exactly the same, where would joy live?  Ponder this a while. I’ll wait.

Last night just as we were about to serve dinner, one of the church congregants -(a lady I love to “silly-banter” with)- came across the room to tell me she wanted to tell me something. I was expecting our normal silliness, but instead she was so sincere. She proceeded to say the nicest things to me with regard to the variety of things I do well in my life; the cooking, the writing, the accounting, etc. I don’t want to repeat the entire exchange here, but it was one of the loveliest and most unexpected compliments I have ever received. Apparently, she’s been reading my blogs and so she is knowing me better. <grin> What she didn’t know, (or maybe she did), was just how timely she was, as I’ve been feeling rather low since Easter.

Driving home last night, I was telling Charlie what she said when tears formed in his eyes. He took my hand in his and said, “It’s all true, Bobbe. You don’t get enough credit or give yourself enough credit for who you are.” He doesn’t know it, but every time he gets emotional when I tell him about something like this, it cements the fact that I know I am exactly where I belong.

I don’t know if it’s true that I don’t get enough credit. (I am aware I don’t give myself enough credit because people tell me this all the time!) The reason I share this is to illustrate that kindness matters. Two times in the past twenty four hours, I’ve experienced unexpected kindnesses and my spirit has done a complete about-face. In fact, I feel transformed.

I am a generally positive person. Imagine if I wasn’t? How might these kindnesses have affected me even more?

Thank you God, for those people who unabashedly offer pieces of heart. Please help me to persist in trying to follow this path as well.

May pieces of heart sprinkle all of the paths we travel and may God grant us the insight to know when to sprinkle our own.

Happy Friday!

Love, Bobbe

 

Church Perks

This popped up in my memories today and it’s just the thing I needed to read. I love how the Universe works this way. ❤

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Very often when least expected, God sends a messenger.

People are shocked when they learn that I suffer tremendously with internal issues of self-worth. Because of this I am nearly always questioning myself. “Did I do that well enough?”; “Am I on the right path?”;”Does anything I do even matter?”;”Does anyone even care about me, really?”;”Am I doing enough?”;”What is wrong with me?”. I could go on and on.

I say people are shocked when they learn this, because I present myself as the exact opposite. Most people who know me think I am the most confident person around and they would never dream that inside, very often I am a mess.

When depression attempts to pull me under, I go on the offense; slapping the fake smile on, forcing myself to “go the extra mile”, etc. I have learned through years of practice that when I am successful with my efforts, God always meets me half way with something glorious. This is what carries me through.

The other day I was in my tiny office in the back of the church when I heard an African man talking to the ladies at the front desk. First of all, I love that accent, so my ears perked up when he started talking.

He had been to a ministry several blocks away from our location in order to receive financial assistance with his rent. As he told his story, I could tell he was very upset. He explained that he understood we are not affiliated with them, but as he was driving by the church, he felt compelled to come inside to talk through it.

Apparently, over a month ago he’d been granted financial assistance (by the other ministry) with his rent so he thought everything was fine. However, when he retrieved his mail that morning, he found an eviction notice. Fearful, he jumped in the car and went back to the Ministry, only to be treated as if he’d never been there.

Under ordinary circumstances I am not the one who handles people who walk in the office for help, but on this day, because of the dire situation, I felt compelled to intervene. So I went out, introduced myself, asked for his paperwork, told him to have a seat, and went back to my office to call the person who leads that Ministry. As it happens, in addition to my part-time work at the church, I also do the finances for the Ministry in question.

Coincidence? I don’t believe in such things.

After a few back and forth calls, it was determined that his file had been misplaced and indeed, the payment for his rent had not been made. A few more calls were made, including one to his Landlord, who accepted the explanation and agreed to wait to receive the past-due rent and I was able to walk back out and tell him his situation was remedied. By this time, hours had passed, and this poor man who had been in the office so upset and nervous finally had relief. He thanked everyone in the outer office and then asked to speak with me privately.

Inside my office, he took both of my hands in his and asked me if I would allow him to pray with me. Tears streamed down my face as I listened to this man, a stranger, praise God for having prompted him to stop into my office. He thanked God for me; he asked God to continue to place me in the path of people who need my help; he told God to continue to use me as his instrument; to continue to allow me to minister, not just in the finance office, but in the community. He said that when he entered the office he was scared and afraid and he felt alone and hopeless and that because of my actions, he was leaving renewed and restored and secure in the knowledge that God still listens to prayers and offers aid in remarkable ways. He mentioned the angels and he called me “one of God’s earth angels”. It was beautiful.

In other words,God met me half-way with something glorious that I would never have imagined for myself. Depression lifted. Joy inserted.

It was as if the Lord, Himself, stood right in front of me and said, “Yes, daughter, you ARE worth it. You ARE appreciated. You ARE loved. You ARE doing exactly what I expect of you. I love you. I love you. Carry on.”

And so I will.

winners_never_quit

 

 

 

 

 

Weighted Words

And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Colossians 3:17

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And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Colossians 3:17


It’s always fun when I’m going through old writings and I find something that is still as applicable today as it was the day I wrote it. What’s even better is that I can remember exactly where I was and what I’d done that day. The Janitor I speak of below is someone I never knew very well, but he wrote his name in my heart on more than one occasion, with a kind word and deed. I returned the favor.

The “words have weight” phrase is something that lives in the forefront of my brain lately. I suppose it’s because I’ve been hurt quite a bit this week, so I want to be mindful of the way I speak to others, the way I speak to myself and the manner in which I carry myself.

Years from now I’d like for someone out there to be reading through old writings and find a good memory of me…just like I remember my former office building’s maintenance man. I can’t remember his name, but I absolutely remember the kindness he showed to me.

“Purpose is the foundation of a meaningful life.”

Late at night when the quiet finds me, I think about what the world and its people mean to me. Thoughts of the day’s conversations flow through my brain and sometimes land in my heart. Not everything finds a resting place there, because so often the days are filled with meaningless words and deeds.

Some nights there is utter silence inside; a stillness there that almost beckons tears. It arrives without warning, though not without purpose.

It comes as a reminder that the words I speak during the day very often carry no meaning at all. Why would I think someone would be interested in the man who cut me off at the corner or the bank teller who was rude to me or what silly thing a friend encountered? Is anyone ever truly interested when someone relates such a story?
Is this type of speech important in daily life? What is it I said during the day that really meant anything?

Thinking back I realize…

I wished the janitor a happy day and then I hugged him for no reason. This was the single important, purposeful thing I’d done. I’d touched him with my wishes and with my hug. Everything else was wasted air. I hadn’t touched anyone else’s heart. No wonder the silence beckons tears of emptiness.

Which begs the question, can we be fulfilled on a daily basis if we fail to touch another’s heart? Could it be possible this is why there is so much depression in our society?

What would I speak of if I were prevented from relating the days events or of my interactions with others?
What would anyone speak of?

Obviously there is a choice to be made at any given moment each day. We can choose to pollute the air with tales that mean nothing to us or to our captive listener OR we can choose to make a difference by touching others.

Yes, you guessed it. Random words of kindness and love coupled with acts of love where appropriate.

Go ahead. Experiment. I dare you to.


From The Angels:

divine-guidance Divine Guidance:
Trust and follow your intuition. It is God and the angels speaking to you.

You are being Divinely guided right now. The gut feelings you have, the knowingness, the visions, or the inner voice are all trying to tell you something, and it is very important that you trust and follow this guidance.

If you drew more than one card, pay close attention to the cards that are on either side of the “Divine Guidance” card-they contain important instructions for you. These nearby cards feature facets of the message that the angels seek to impress upon you.

new-beginnings New Beginnings
A clean slate is presented to you as you now encounter fresh opportunities and novel experiences.

Embrace the new in your life, including new opportunities, people, and projects. The angels know that change can be frightening, and they surround you now with loving energy. Call upon them whenever you feel afraid of facing novel situations. They will boost your confidence and energy so that you can enjoy your new beginnings.

Sometimes we cling to old routines because they are familiar. By drawing this card, the angels ask you to be open to new approaches to life. Perhaps they will teach you a new way of looking at situations. Or maybe they will call on you to learn a new skill. Whatever the new beginning is for you, allow yourself to be stretched by the fresh circumstances. We learn about ourselves through new experiences.

freedom Freedom
The angels guide you to freely express your true thoughts and feelings with love.

You may feel trapped right now by life conditions. By drawing this card, the angels ask you to realize that you are the only jail keeper that ever surfaces in your own life. Whenever you realize that you have the power to be free, freedom follows. Everything that you do in your life is by choice, and you are free to choose again. Even prisoners are free to choose their thoughts so that they feel peace and happiness under any conditions.

The next time you begin a sentence with the words, “I have to ______,” please stop. Ask God and the angels to show you some alternatives. They will either help you complete the task from a loving mind-set so that you don’t feel trapped, or they will guide you to do something else that you will love.

Self-Acceptance
You are a perfect child of God, and every part of you is wonderful. Your angels guide you to let go of negative self-judgments and to enjoy being you!

“You are much too hard on yourself,” your angels say to you through this card. Although you enjoy having high standards, it’s important to view yourself through loving eyes. Berating yourself only makes your spirit sink. Self-improvement comes from a positive mind-set.

See yourself through your angels’ eyes, and you will see someone who is a perfect and holy child of God. Although you have made mistakes in the past, there is nothing that you could have ever said, thought, or done that would change God’s love for you. The angels see past your surface mistakes; they see the beating heart of God’s love within you. They love you unconditionally, and they ask you to love yourself in the same way!


Lord, I cry unto thee: make haste unto me;
give ear unto my voice, when I cry unto thee.

Let my prayer be set forth before thee as incense;
and the lifting of my hands as the evening sacrifice.

Psalm 141:1-2

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.
Serve the Lord with gladness;
come before his presence with singing.
Know ye that the Lord he is God;
it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves;
we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
Enter into his gates with thanksgiving,
and into his courts with praise;
be thankful unto him, and bless his name.
For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting;
and his truth endureth to all generations.

Psalm 100

Church Perks

This popped up in my memories today and it’s just the thing I needed to read. I love how the Universe works this way. ❤

381455_484719604916428_702273273_n

Very often when least expected, God sends a messenger.

People are shocked when they learn that I suffer tremendously with internal issues of self-worth. Because of this I am nearly always questioning myself. “Did I do that well enough?”; “Am I on the right path?”;”Does anything I do even matter?”;”Does anyone even care about me, really?”;”Am I doing enough?”;”What is wrong with me?”. I could go on and on.

I say people are shocked when they learn this, because I present myself as the exact opposite. Most people who know me think I am the most confident person around and they would never dream that inside, very often I am a mess.

When depression attempts to pull me under, I go on the offense; slapping the fake smile on, forcing myself to “go the extra mile”, etc. I have learned through years of practice that when I am successful with my efforts, God always meets me half way with something glorious. This is what carries me through.

The other day I was in my tiny office in the back of the church when I heard an African man talking to the ladies at the front desk. First of all, I love that accent, so my ears perked up when he started talking.

He had been to a ministry several blocks away from our location in order to receive financial assistance with his rent. As he told his story, I could tell he was very upset. He explained that he understood we are not affiliated with them, but as he was driving by the church, he felt compelled to come inside to talk through it.

Apparently, over a month ago he’d been granted financial assistance (by the other ministry) with his rent so he thought everything was fine. However, when he retrieved his mail that morning, he found an eviction notice. Fearful, he jumped in the car and went back to the Ministry, only to be treated as if he’d never been there.

Under ordinary circumstances I am not the one who handles people who walk in the office for help, but on this day, because of the dire situation, I felt compelled to intervene. So I went out, introduced myself, asked for his paperwork, told him to have a seat, and went back to my office to call the person who leads that Ministry. As it happens, in addition to my part-time work at the church, I also do the finances for the Ministry in question.

Coincidence? I don’t believe in such things.

After a few back and forth calls, it was determined that his file had been misplaced and indeed, the payment for his rent had not been made. A few more calls were made, including one to his Landlord, who accepted the explanation and agreed to wait to receive the past-due rent and I was able to walk back out and tell him his situation was remedied. By this time, hours had passed, and this poor man who had been in the office so upset and nervous finally had relief. He thanked everyone in the outer office and then asked to speak with me privately.

Inside my office, he took both of my hands in his and asked me if I would allow him to pray with me. Tears streamed down my face as I listened to this man, a stranger, praise God for having prompted him to stop into my office. He thanked God for me; he asked God to continue to place me in the path of people who need my help; he told God to continue to use me as his instrument; to continue to allow me to minister, not just in the finance office, but in the community. He said that when he entered the office he was scared and afraid and he felt alone and hopeless and that because of my actions, he was leaving renewed and restored and secure in the knowledge that God still listens to prayers and offers aid in remarkable ways. He mentioned the angels and he called me “one of God’s earth angels”. It was beautiful.

In other words,God met me half-way with something glorious that I would never have imagined for myself. Depression lifted. Joy inserted.

It was as if the Lord, Himself, stood right in front of me and said, “Yes, daughter, you ARE worth it. You ARE appreciated. You ARE loved. You ARE doing exactly what I expect of you. I love you. I love you. Carry on.”

And so I will.

winners_never_quit

 

 

 

 

 

Day Three – More on Community

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I grow weary of hearing people say, “All organized religion is nonsense created by humans, for profit and control”.

First, I hate generalizations.  It’s funny because I can remember a time growing up when that’s all my father used to say to me, “Stop generalizing”.  At the time, I didn’t really understand what he meant, but he was right.  I used to make statements like, “You always find fault in anything I say”; “This person is always wrong.”; “You never listen to a word I say.” etc… At fifty, I finally understand what my Dad meant.

I admit for a time, when I was being lazy in my faith and wallowing in self pity, I used to say things about organized religion too. I would tell myself that I didn’t need to go to church because God lives in me, etc.  “Church is a building”; “Faith is what’s in my heart.”; “God lives everywhere, I don’t have to go there to talk to God.”, etc.”

I was right (on some level), until I landed in the finance office of a church that isn’t of my own religion. (I laugh these days, because God absolutely does know what He’s doing at any given time.) I started there as an account temp because they lost their finance secretary to a full time job. I thought this job would be pretty clear cut: I’d do their finances and leave each day. NOT.

I never expected that as the finance secretary of a church, I would be the only person who got to see what good “a church” actually does in a community. As a lifelong Catholic, my only experience with church was going to Mass on Sundays, receiving the Sacraments and tithing each week or month.  I never stopped to think or find out just where my tithes went.  I thought they were supporting the church building and the school, period.  I never went beyond this in my thinking. Why would I? I just showed up on Sundays, gave what I could, and left.

Until I landed at my current work place.

Yes, it is true that tithes do go to the upkeep of the building and the staff. Church’s are non profit organizations, which means that they do depend on weekly/monthly tithing and gifts from estates and outside entities.  Without the kindness and faith of others, they don’t get to exist.

I worked for about six months just trying to find my way in the finance office. No one could help me because the business of the finance office of a church is completely confidential. Thankfully, my life long accounting background afforded me the experience and knowledge to be able to create the statements etc.

What I did not expect, however, was learning just what it means to be a church.  What I get to experience every single day is happiness and love.  While we do have a small number of staff, who are paid, the place where I work is largely governed and staffed by volunteers who give of their time freely and willfully day in and day out.  This doesn’t mean that they just write checks to the church.  It means that they come into the office to answer phones, they write thank you notes when we receive memorial donations, they go out to visit the shut-ins and those who are hospitalized, they organize visits to the home-bound, they plan picnics for new members, they create ministries for the elderly and the youth and the children, they buy beds and clothes for people new in the country, they walk in parades, the list is endless.  In short, wherever there is a need, they are there.

My “ah-ha” moment came one day the first year of my employment, when a random envelope of cash was received and on the outside it simply said, “Please give to the church”. It was a substantial amount of cash and we worked hard to find out where it had come from so I could give tax credit. In the end, a random person had given this envelope to a congregant who was leaving Sunday services…he didn’t care about “credit”.

The day we finally figured this out, my heart just opened and I cried. Not knowing the story, I envisioned some stranger saving his pennies until he felt he had enough and then he gave it to the first person he saw coming out of services. The person who received this money and turned it in could only say that this was a foreign person who offered the envelope.

My workplace caters to foreigners and refugees and I love it.  Several times I’ve gotten to use my Spanish to help visitors looking for the “English as a Second Language” classes, which are hosted by the church. (I have a degree in Spanish yet have never gotten to use it for any reason until now.) (PS-Thanks God!)

The Minsters of this place work 24/7.  If a person has a medical emergency in the middle of the night, they jump up and go. Often times during the day, I witness the Minsters going on countless “appointments” to pray with the sick, the lonely, the depressed or those who are trying to figure out “God”, period. They go when they are called, period, and it doesn’t matter how many times per day they are called…they GO.

In short, I’ve been at this place for three years part-time. I’d be there full-time in a heart beat because I’ve finally learned what a church really is. It’s LOVE actualized.

Yes, you can love and pray and worship God all on your own and HE IS there, but a church is a community of people all working together to help others.  At least, this is MY experience.

Lots of times I’m the only person who gets to read beautiful letters attached to checks that talk about what this church has meant and why “this donation” is being made and I feel so honored.  I look at it as God entrusting me as the go-between.  I make sure the donation gets where it’s supposed to, I get to write the thank you note and I get to keep the secret of who gave it.  (That’s between God and me and the donor and it’s so fun!)

So.  Yeah, I’m weary of hearing that organized religion sucks because it doesn’t.  I didn’t even mention all of the money that my workplace donates to local charities OR what it does to take care of refugees from other countries. We receive calls daily from people wanting help on their rent or utility bills and we work in conjunction with other area charities to help as much as possible. I’ve seen our Ministers (and members)buy clothes and shoes for children  (sometimes out of their own pockets), buy a bus ticket to get a stranded traveler home, deliver food to those who need it; I’ve even seen them invite a person in to sit in our church parlor to eat a meal and just chat with a fellow human. I could go on and on.

If you think, for one moment, that organized religion sucks.  I hope you will do some more research.  We give away most of what comes in and what we don’t have to give away, we make up with our own money, time and effort.

I’m so Blessed.

Those who used to know me on Myspace have to KNOW that God led me here to this place and that I’m happy as a clam.  I don’t make much money, but my heart is FULL times infinity.  I haven’t even scratched the surface here.

I think it’s time for all of us to either re-discover or discover for the first time, what it’s like to be a real member of a real community.  Church might just be the first stop.  No. I’m certain it should be.

Praise God. (I do.)

 

Day Two – Resurrecting Kindness.

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I remember when I was growing up it was customary for a neighborhood to welcome a new family with gifts of food. Sometime during the first week of getting unpacked and settled, the front doorbell would ring; and behind it would be standing, a family of smiling faces, bearing a basket of homemade cookies or a pie or a casserole; ready to say, “Hi, we’re the William’s family and we live across the street, in that house over there.  We just wanted to say welcome to the neighborhood and if you need anything, here’s our number.”

I was a little kid when we moved a few times, but I never forgot how nice those little gifts of food were. It wasn’t the food really, it was the kindness that even a wee kid like me, recognized.  Somehow it made me feel “official”, like the move was complete and I was now a “real” part of my new neighborhood.

Fast forward to high school carpool. The year had just started and we had a new person added to our pick-up list.  Their family had moved in over the summer -but on a street not very close to ours. First day in the car, someone asked Clara George (name changed to protect the innocent) how she liked her new house and the neighborhood.  She exclaimed, “Oh I like the house just fine, but this is the most stuck up neighborhood in the world! Do you know not ONE person has come to the door with cookies or ANYTHING!”.  I laughed my head off.

Thirty two years later, I still remember that moment and even where I was sitting in the car and how loudly I snorted. Everyone giggled and told her that she was right, in our neighborhood, this wasn’t a tradition any more. Sad reality. (Even though when we moved in, I do recall neighbors coming by and also a lady from “The Welcome Wagon” who had a whole basket of assorted treats.) What a difference a few years had made.  When we moved in, I was in the 5th grade and when Clara moved in, it was six years later and there was no more “Welcome Wagon”. I wonder why?

When I moved into my first condo it was a snowy January day. We were on the second floor of our building and I was so excited about being on my own. I envisioned being great friends with all of my neighbors and feeling secure having people near by. The second night one of my best friends and I were in the kitchen lining the cabinets when the doorbell rang. I exclaimed to her, “It’s my first neighbor come to welcome me!!”.  Sure enough when I opened the door, there he stood. Nervously, but cheerfully, I introduced myself and he said, “I’m Eric and I live beneath you. I don’t know what you are doing- but you are being too loud.” I explained that I had just moved in and I was only lining my kitchen cabinets. (We weren’t even using a hammer! ha!) I apologized and shut the door feeling utterly deflated. (Thanks for the lovely welcome, Eric.) Sad to say that most of the people in that complex were of similar nature. I didn’t last there long. It hurt my soul.

Three moves later and a little over a year ago, my husband, Charlie, and I moved into our town house. The tradition of neighbors bearing gifts and smiles long forgotten and no longer expected, we introduced ourselves to neighbors in passing. One day there was a knock at the door and there stood our next door neighbor with a beautiful plate of Indian food. (She was from India). I almost cried. She didn’t really say it was to welcome us, but rather she said, “I hope you enjoy.”

It didn’t matter. It was kindness (and it was delicious!)

Sadly, they moved away and not too very long ago, two lovely 24 year old girls moved in.  Charlie and I decided to welcome them with a lasagna dinner, complete with salad and desert. They were floored, but very grateful! They told us that they both teach autistic children and neither of them cook, so a home-cooked meal meant a lot. I floated back into my home so happy! (There is no high so great as the feeling one gets in doing something nice for another.)  So now, we make a habit of sharing our meals with them whenever we make something especially yummy. I like to think that they will always remember this and that perhaps one day, they will do the same for a new neighbor in their next dwelling place. I wonder how many people their age do not even remember a time when this was a tradition?

I know that these days, not everyone can afford to gifts of food for new neighbors. (Honestly, did I just write that statement? Is that really a true statement? Who cannot afford just one cupcake or cookie or even just a card with your phone number in it?) Kindness doesn’t cost much and it goes such a very long way. I know there are people out there who will use the argument that it’s not safe to knock on doors any more or that people won’t trust food made by strangers. I say that is just an excuse based in fear.

We are a people so stuck behind computer screens, immersed in cell phones, attached to video games, etc. that we’ve lost our sense of community. (For the record, Facebook doesn’t count as community!) I think if it’s out of our comfort zone, we don’t make the effort any more and that’s just wrong. I would love to see the tradition of welcoming and caring for one’s neighbors resurrected.

I have so much fun packing up dinner for the girls next door. This morning one of them stopped Charlie and I in the driveway and just went on and on profusely thanking us. She said, “We are 24 and if we are going to eat pasta -it’s coming out of a can or it’s frozen! You have no idea how much we love the food!” She’s told Charlie before that they work crazy hours for little money and that often they are so tired when they get home. So yes, I will continue to feed them when the opportunities present themselves because it makes my heart smile and they are starting to feel like family.

That’s exactly what kindness does. It is so true that in giving we DO receive, OH and also, FOOD IS LOVE!  😉

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020 <—Bobbe’s Lasagna & garlic bread.