Last night I went to a dinner in honor of Fred and Joan Miller, Danville residents who have long contributed to serving our community. It was hosted by the Red Cross, and honored them as recipients of a special award.
Those of you who know me, know I love stories, and there were a couple of particularly poignant stories about the Millers that were shared last night that highlighted why they were selected to receive this award.
One was about Joan and her tireless dedication to visiting and reading to a particular resident at one of the area nursing homes. Let's just say the woman was a bit on the crabby and complaining side, and didn't make it inviting for Joan, along with her youngest son Mark, a teenager at the time, whose recollection this was, to return day after day.
Yet she did, and ultimately it made a difference.
The love and care and humble concern, true concern, of one person made a difference in that other person's life, and the barriers of hurt, loneliness and bitterness were washed away by the warmth of love and caring. Genuine love and caring, motivated by loving the other person as God does.
Then today, I had the opportunity to hear yet another story of selfless service that was truly remarkable.
I went to a performance of a play, Life in a Jar, about a Polish woman, who, during the Holocaust, smuggled 2500 children to safety from the ghetto of Warsaw. This play was written ten years ago by a group of ninth grade history students and was moving beyond belief.
Another story about a caring, loving, humble individual that served others and put her own life on the line to save the lives of others. Visit www.irenasendler.org to be inspired.
Both events and stories of different individuals were powerful reminders of the to me indisputable fact that one person CAN make a difference, and forever have an impact on those they cross paths with.
This can be just as true for us also. Do you believe that? Whose life are you making a difference in today?
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
New Memories, Old Memories...
The last time I was in Vienna was almost thirty years ago...I was in college and eurailed it around Europe for almost a month.
At the time, an old family friend, the kind who is virtually family, you know, an "Aunt" who is not a blood relative, was still alive and lived in an old stately house in Vienna, and invited me and my friend to join her as her house guests. Each morning she served us hot coffee, warm bread with butter and raspberry jam, and regaled us with tales that seemed more like fiction than fact.
Even though Tante Helene is no longer alive, once again being in this stately and regal city has brought back many memories. My biggest sadness is that I missed Die Zauberflote at the Statsopera by a mere two weeks...it would truly have made this trip complete.
But a week in the mountains with sunny, crisp days and above average temperatures and for the most part agreeable travel mates made this a great trip.
My mom had a good time, and that, after all, was the foremost goal. She misses my dad and spends too much time feeling sad, so whatever puts a smile on her face is a wonderful blessing, and I have become a fierce protector of her well being and happiness.
Today we traipsed through the city and visited a museum that I hope my dad went to the last time he was here, a glorious collection of art, including masterpieces by Egon Schiele and Gustav Klimt, then through the Hopsburg area and then winding down with a Wiener Schnitzel.
It is raining now; the first time since the night we arrived. God welcomed us with tears of joy, and I believe is now ushering us out, weeping tears of a bittersweet nature. A reminder to cherish all that is beautiful, but perhaps too fleeting in life.
I look forward to a time to come back and add yet another layer of memories to what has come before.
At the time, an old family friend, the kind who is virtually family, you know, an "Aunt" who is not a blood relative, was still alive and lived in an old stately house in Vienna, and invited me and my friend to join her as her house guests. Each morning she served us hot coffee, warm bread with butter and raspberry jam, and regaled us with tales that seemed more like fiction than fact.
Even though Tante Helene is no longer alive, once again being in this stately and regal city has brought back many memories. My biggest sadness is that I missed Die Zauberflote at the Statsopera by a mere two weeks...it would truly have made this trip complete.
But a week in the mountains with sunny, crisp days and above average temperatures and for the most part agreeable travel mates made this a great trip.
My mom had a good time, and that, after all, was the foremost goal. She misses my dad and spends too much time feeling sad, so whatever puts a smile on her face is a wonderful blessing, and I have become a fierce protector of her well being and happiness.
Today we traipsed through the city and visited a museum that I hope my dad went to the last time he was here, a glorious collection of art, including masterpieces by Egon Schiele and Gustav Klimt, then through the Hopsburg area and then winding down with a Wiener Schnitzel.
It is raining now; the first time since the night we arrived. God welcomed us with tears of joy, and I believe is now ushering us out, weeping tears of a bittersweet nature. A reminder to cherish all that is beautiful, but perhaps too fleeting in life.
I look forward to a time to come back and add yet another layer of memories to what has come before.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Joy in the Small Stuff, and May it all be Small Stuff
There truly is joy in the small stuff.
My hope and prayer is that it may all be small stuff.
The morning light reflected off the fresh snow on the mountain peaks.
The foam on the capucinno looked like clouds and had just a sprinkling of cinnamon on top.
Apple Strudel that is to die for.
Trains that glide seamlessly and soundlessly through the mountains.
My mother finding trinkets she wants to buy and she has never been a shopper.
And down duvets.
All delightful, simple pleasures and treasures of life.
May you find delight in your own.
Kathy
My hope and prayer is that it may all be small stuff.
The morning light reflected off the fresh snow on the mountain peaks.
The foam on the capucinno looked like clouds and had just a sprinkling of cinnamon on top.
Apple Strudel that is to die for.
Trains that glide seamlessly and soundlessly through the mountains.
My mother finding trinkets she wants to buy and she has never been a shopper.
And down duvets.
All delightful, simple pleasures and treasures of life.
May you find delight in your own.
Kathy
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Austrian Update
I can't believe it is Wednesday already.
There have been so many times I have had thoughts that spurred an impulse to blog, but the computer and Internet haven't been immediately accessible, so it simply didn't happen. So I guess I have to make up for lost time.
So, in thinking back, I last checked in on the 25th which was Sunday. Since then we have had a variety of experiences.
I must say, the group of us do travel well together, despite a recent breakup between Chris and Erin. It is all good.
The primary objective of this trip is to bring my mother joy. God is present in every detail of our lives, every day, if we just pause long enough to recognize Him. I am learning to love my mother with a tenderness I didn't realize was within me. Perhaps it was dormant for more years than I care to admit, and it took my father's death to awaken it.
So we aim to include her in our days at her pace as if she were the Queen mother. We walk with her, wait for her, serve her, and agree with her on most things. As long as there is a smile, and there have been many, it is a good day.
So the days have developed their own rhythm. Deb and Erin sleep in, Connie and I go for morning walks, and my mom does her own thing at her own pace, and we all come together around noon...
Monday was a National Holiday here in Austria, we still aren;t sure exactly what, but my Austrian neighbor will be able to inform me...and we went to Felsum Bad, a large collection of pools and springs in the center of Bad Gastein. It was glorious. My mom deferred enterance, which didn't surprise me, and sat and read her book while we cavorted from pool to pool and even to the sauna. Like I said, glorious...
Then yesterday we went to Salzburg. It has always been one of my favorite places, because it is the birthplace of Mozart.
Mozart and I have a long history, you see. It started when I was six and went to my first opera, Die Zauberflote, in New York at the Met, and got to go backstage and visit with Ted Upman, who sang the role of Papageno, and the whole event was chronicled in Opera News, as the dad of one of my elementary school classmates was the editor.
My dad also used to listen to Mozart a lot, and now those CD's are at my home. I have taken to listening to one of Mozart's symphonies of late, as the tempo and character of the music at times is haunting (especially the oboe) and at other times is inspiring. The beauty of the music propells me forward in living in a way that I hope and believe honors my family. My mother who is here, and my dad who is not physically present, but whose spirit is.
At any rate, Salzburg was beautiful. The old city was charming, its cobblestone streets meandering and crisscrossing eachother. We followed them to the fortress that provided a view that was maginificent of the city, both old and new. Even though the weather forecast called for forties and wet snow, we have been blessed with clear days in which the blue sky provides a crisp contrast to the snow capped peaks. This morning there was a frost that covered the grass of the valley and lent an even more surreal image of the place we are staying, which I am convinced is a slice of heaven.
No trip to Salzburg would be complete without a visit to Hotel Sacher, which is home to the original Sacher Torte, a wonderful Austrian concoction which is dense, with apricot preserves in between the layers and frosted in the most delicious and silken dark chocolate imagineable...I know my father would have approved of our purchase of a torte large enough to take back and keep us in chocolate heaven for two nights.
We also discovered a Loden factory outlet, and I was thrilled my mom found a jacket she wanted to buy. Rarely does she submit to treating herself, so the fact that she found a jacket she liked and wanted to buy it was a big deal.
Today Connie and I walked to town and frequented our favorite bakery for coffee and fruhstuck (breakfast) and then meandered our way back before gathering the troops (no small feat) for the afternoon excursion to Bad Hofgastein for mudbaths and massages. Another trip to heaven, if you aske me...and that is where we discovered the thrift store.
Now we are back and ready to tuck in. Deb cooked us a wonderfull meal, Connie is going for a swim, Erin is knitting, I am writing, which I love, and my mom is reading Danielle Steele, and we are all content.
Community is beautiful, and is how God intended us to live.
May you also find your community of peace.
There have been so many times I have had thoughts that spurred an impulse to blog, but the computer and Internet haven't been immediately accessible, so it simply didn't happen. So I guess I have to make up for lost time.
So, in thinking back, I last checked in on the 25th which was Sunday. Since then we have had a variety of experiences.
I must say, the group of us do travel well together, despite a recent breakup between Chris and Erin. It is all good.
The primary objective of this trip is to bring my mother joy. God is present in every detail of our lives, every day, if we just pause long enough to recognize Him. I am learning to love my mother with a tenderness I didn't realize was within me. Perhaps it was dormant for more years than I care to admit, and it took my father's death to awaken it.
So we aim to include her in our days at her pace as if she were the Queen mother. We walk with her, wait for her, serve her, and agree with her on most things. As long as there is a smile, and there have been many, it is a good day.
So the days have developed their own rhythm. Deb and Erin sleep in, Connie and I go for morning walks, and my mom does her own thing at her own pace, and we all come together around noon...
Monday was a National Holiday here in Austria, we still aren;t sure exactly what, but my Austrian neighbor will be able to inform me...and we went to Felsum Bad, a large collection of pools and springs in the center of Bad Gastein. It was glorious. My mom deferred enterance, which didn't surprise me, and sat and read her book while we cavorted from pool to pool and even to the sauna. Like I said, glorious...
Then yesterday we went to Salzburg. It has always been one of my favorite places, because it is the birthplace of Mozart.
Mozart and I have a long history, you see. It started when I was six and went to my first opera, Die Zauberflote, in New York at the Met, and got to go backstage and visit with Ted Upman, who sang the role of Papageno, and the whole event was chronicled in Opera News, as the dad of one of my elementary school classmates was the editor.
My dad also used to listen to Mozart a lot, and now those CD's are at my home. I have taken to listening to one of Mozart's symphonies of late, as the tempo and character of the music at times is haunting (especially the oboe) and at other times is inspiring. The beauty of the music propells me forward in living in a way that I hope and believe honors my family. My mother who is here, and my dad who is not physically present, but whose spirit is.
At any rate, Salzburg was beautiful. The old city was charming, its cobblestone streets meandering and crisscrossing eachother. We followed them to the fortress that provided a view that was maginificent of the city, both old and new. Even though the weather forecast called for forties and wet snow, we have been blessed with clear days in which the blue sky provides a crisp contrast to the snow capped peaks. This morning there was a frost that covered the grass of the valley and lent an even more surreal image of the place we are staying, which I am convinced is a slice of heaven.
No trip to Salzburg would be complete without a visit to Hotel Sacher, which is home to the original Sacher Torte, a wonderful Austrian concoction which is dense, with apricot preserves in between the layers and frosted in the most delicious and silken dark chocolate imagineable...I know my father would have approved of our purchase of a torte large enough to take back and keep us in chocolate heaven for two nights.
We also discovered a Loden factory outlet, and I was thrilled my mom found a jacket she wanted to buy. Rarely does she submit to treating herself, so the fact that she found a jacket she liked and wanted to buy it was a big deal.
Today Connie and I walked to town and frequented our favorite bakery for coffee and fruhstuck (breakfast) and then meandered our way back before gathering the troops (no small feat) for the afternoon excursion to Bad Hofgastein for mudbaths and massages. Another trip to heaven, if you aske me...and that is where we discovered the thrift store.
Now we are back and ready to tuck in. Deb cooked us a wonderfull meal, Connie is going for a swim, Erin is knitting, I am writing, which I love, and my mom is reading Danielle Steele, and we are all content.
Community is beautiful, and is how God intended us to live.
May you also find your community of peace.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Arrived in Austria
Why do computer woes even follow me internationally? I don't have internet in our apartment, so I need to traipse up to the lobby to connect via wireless, so I figured I would be smart and wrote some thoughts in a word document to simply copy and paste, but it didn't work. Some HTML thing.
Argh...
At any rate, the same group of us who were together in May in Paris are together again in Austria. It is me, my mom, Connie and Erin and her mom Deb.
But there are some major differences than the last time. Erin broke up with Chris and my mother has slowed down even more.
Deb and Erin made the plans to join us before she broke up with Chris, which did come as a big surprise, and to make things a bit more awkward, we own half the house Chris is still living in with her mom Deb. So ground rules were no talking about houses, Chris or relationships. But it is a bit odd.
We are in the mountains and not all the ground is totally flat, although we did discover some short cuts and flat promenades today, but my mom is slow, painfully slow when she walks, so really double the time needs to be allowed to go places, but she is fairly content to just stay put.
But Connie and I like to be on the go, so we got up this morning and walked to the bakery we discovered and sat and had some coffee and plum cake. When we returned, at just past noon, Erin was still in bed, my mom in the shower and Deb in her jammies. We were glad to have each other to explore with.
It is nice to be somewhere where there isn't a pace to keep (admittedly noon and still in bed is even extreme by jetlag standards) but we are simply allowing the week to unfold, allowing a rhythm of its own to develop that allows us to appreciate the beauty of the surrounding mountains.
Take a moment to slow down your own pace and breath in the beauty that surrounds you.
Argh...
At any rate, the same group of us who were together in May in Paris are together again in Austria. It is me, my mom, Connie and Erin and her mom Deb.
But there are some major differences than the last time. Erin broke up with Chris and my mother has slowed down even more.
Deb and Erin made the plans to join us before she broke up with Chris, which did come as a big surprise, and to make things a bit more awkward, we own half the house Chris is still living in with her mom Deb. So ground rules were no talking about houses, Chris or relationships. But it is a bit odd.
We are in the mountains and not all the ground is totally flat, although we did discover some short cuts and flat promenades today, but my mom is slow, painfully slow when she walks, so really double the time needs to be allowed to go places, but she is fairly content to just stay put.
But Connie and I like to be on the go, so we got up this morning and walked to the bakery we discovered and sat and had some coffee and plum cake. When we returned, at just past noon, Erin was still in bed, my mom in the shower and Deb in her jammies. We were glad to have each other to explore with.
It is nice to be somewhere where there isn't a pace to keep (admittedly noon and still in bed is even extreme by jetlag standards) but we are simply allowing the week to unfold, allowing a rhythm of its own to develop that allows us to appreciate the beauty of the surrounding mountains.
Take a moment to slow down your own pace and breath in the beauty that surrounds you.
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