Cut from the same cloth
Woven from threads of love, hope
Yet each one unique
You. Your neighbors. Your family and friends. Those you have yet to meet.
We are all cut from the same fabric of humanity.
Skin and bone, flesh and blood.
Fear and worry, hope and possibility.
So this Christmas, as you pause to reflect upon the story of Jesus joining the ranks of humanity, remember that you are part of something bigger and know that your life and work matter.
You are both cut from and in the process of helping weave the fabric of humanity.
May you feel the strands of Love that are woven into you and
May you weave strands of hope, joy, and peace into the lives around you,
Each one the same, yet each one unique.
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Monday, December 5, 2016
A Trip To The Walmart
I skipped my Thursday post again last week. I was out for a night on the town with my friend Stacey.
Stacey is blind. She was my guest speaker in my special needs class that night. After class, as we were heading home, Stacey and I decided that neither of us wanted to cook when we got home. First Friday was last Friday. Stacey and I were both supposed to take desserts or sweets. After working all day and sitting in class that night, we didn’t have baking in us. So we went to the Walmart.
Going to the Walmart with someone who is blind is interesting. As I searched the clearance aisle for good finds, I found myself saying, “Look at this!” Then I remembered that Stacey couldn’t see with her eyes, so I put the item in Stacey’s hands so that she could see with her hands. The most interesting of these finds was a huge mouse trap. I triple checked to make sure the trap wasn’t going to go off when I gave it to Stacey to see. It didn’t. And she agreed that it was a huge mouse trap! Don’t worry. I didn’t buy it.
After we’d walked the aisles of the Walmart—that Stacey had memorized—and found everything we needed to provide proper desserts and sweets for Friday—including a fruit cake—we went to the checkout line. I wish I could have recorded the people behind me as they watched Stacey in the checkout line. True to form, she did everything herself—unloaded her cart—stacked it on the conveyor belt—separated her stuff from mine—and paid with her card. The paying part was what got the onlookers. Without seeing a thing with her eyes, Stacey got out her card, put the chip into the reader, and completed her transaction. The people behind me just watched. She didn’t have to sign her name on Thursday night. I asked what she’d have done had she had to sign her name. She said that she’d have just tried to get an S on the screen and then scribble everything else. I told her that I basically did the same thing—just put a D and scribbled the rest of my name on a screen.
“Miss D, we need to do this more often,” announced Stacey as we made the final leg of our journey. I agreed. And the next time we hang out, I’ll feel more comfortable leading Stacey to the passenger side of my car and I’ll remember to describe the weird things I’m seeing as I drive instead of saying, “What is that?!”
There are people in this world who inspire us simply by being themselves. Stacey is one of those people to me.
Stacey is blind. She was my guest speaker in my special needs class that night. After class, as we were heading home, Stacey and I decided that neither of us wanted to cook when we got home. First Friday was last Friday. Stacey and I were both supposed to take desserts or sweets. After working all day and sitting in class that night, we didn’t have baking in us. So we went to the Walmart.
Going to the Walmart with someone who is blind is interesting. As I searched the clearance aisle for good finds, I found myself saying, “Look at this!” Then I remembered that Stacey couldn’t see with her eyes, so I put the item in Stacey’s hands so that she could see with her hands. The most interesting of these finds was a huge mouse trap. I triple checked to make sure the trap wasn’t going to go off when I gave it to Stacey to see. It didn’t. And she agreed that it was a huge mouse trap! Don’t worry. I didn’t buy it.
After we’d walked the aisles of the Walmart—that Stacey had memorized—and found everything we needed to provide proper desserts and sweets for Friday—including a fruit cake—we went to the checkout line. I wish I could have recorded the people behind me as they watched Stacey in the checkout line. True to form, she did everything herself—unloaded her cart—stacked it on the conveyor belt—separated her stuff from mine—and paid with her card. The paying part was what got the onlookers. Without seeing a thing with her eyes, Stacey got out her card, put the chip into the reader, and completed her transaction. The people behind me just watched. She didn’t have to sign her name on Thursday night. I asked what she’d have done had she had to sign her name. She said that she’d have just tried to get an S on the screen and then scribble everything else. I told her that I basically did the same thing—just put a D and scribbled the rest of my name on a screen.
“Miss D, we need to do this more often,” announced Stacey as we made the final leg of our journey. I agreed. And the next time we hang out, I’ll feel more comfortable leading Stacey to the passenger side of my car and I’ll remember to describe the weird things I’m seeing as I drive instead of saying, “What is that?!”
There are people in this world who inspire us simply by being themselves. Stacey is one of those people to me.
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