The Caring Catalyst

Who Cares - What Matters

A Prayer’s PRAYER

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I’ve always been a Mary Oliver fan
but I’ll also admit that I’ve read much more of her
now that she’s dead
than when she was alive
I suppose which not only makes her
not only more Alive
than ALIVE
but still doing
what she did the best
(and still is)
S H A R E

As I page
through this Anthology
I often have the same feeling
that I have when I heard her voice
reading this poem
with a resounding
E C H O I N G
of when you need a prayer
notice that nothing all around you
is miraculously short of that
with the worldly unspoken invitation:
WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE A PRAYER
B E
O N E

(The only true prayer you’ll ever need
is the one you are)

An Original Caring Catalyst

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Look familiar. . .
Even remotely aware of him. . .
The following might not be much more of a clue
to the World
or even to a select few:
On July 1, 2021, Rev. Dr. Roger Raymond Fischer, of Washington, was taken by God’s twin Angels, Goodness and Mercy, who came to pick Roger up, and they did. So God wrapped his arms around Roger and said, “Well done Good and Faithful Servant.” His was a life well done. Born June 1, 1941, in Washington, he was the son of Raymond and Louise Gartley Fischer.

Roger was a 1959 graduate of Washington High School. While in college, Roger worked as an American Red Cross, YMCA life guard and saving and swimming instructor. Roger received a Bachelor of Arts in Mathematics and Physics from Washington and Jefferson College in 1963. He received a Master’s Degree with Honors from the Lutheran Seminary at Gettysburg in 1991. In 1998, he was granted a Doctor of Ministry Degree from the Pittsburgh Theological Seminary as the author of “Christian Advocacy and the Local Congregation.” Roger was ordained January 13, 1990, in First Lutheran Church, Washington. He served numerous churches in Southwestern Pennsylvania and West Virginia. The last congregations that he served were Calvary Lutheran in Scenery Hill, Buena Vista Presbyterian and Hyland Brotheran.

While working as a research engineer for Jones and Laughlin Steel, Roger was elected to the Pennsylvania House of Representatives from the 47th District, serving from 1966 to his retirement in 1988. At age 25 he was one of the youngest members to serve in the history of the Pennsylvania General Assembly, serving also as Chairman of the House Education Committee and on the State Board of Education. Roger served for nine terms as President of the Association of Retired Pennsylvania House of Representatives and Senate Members. He was elected to the Washington School Board in 1965 and inducted into the Pennsylvania Voter Hall of Fame for voting in every primary and general election since 1962.

Commissioned in 1966, Roger served as a Lieutenant Colonel U.S. Air Force Reserve. He was a member of the American Legion Post 175, 40 et 8, Sons of the American Revolution, and Sons of the American Revolution Chaplain. He was a Boy Scout merit badge counselor and a member of the Order of the Arrow. Roger was also a member of the Washington Lodge No, 164 Free & Accepted Masons, Washington Royal Arch Chapter No. 150, Jacques DeMolay Commandery No. 3 Knights Templar, and Noble of the Syria Shrine.

Roger enjoyed a lifetime of sports and fitness as demonstrated by becoming a two time finisher of the Ironman Triathlon in Hawaii. Additionally, he ran many other triathlons and marathons including Boston (four times), New York (four times), Pittsburgh, Honolulu and Philadelphia. At age 74, Roger completed the Disney World Marathon. He was a member of the Pennsylvania Council on Physical Fitness and was founder and race director of the “Washington Express” 10K run. In 2008, he bicycled across America in sections. Roger was inducted in Washington-Greene Chapter of the Pennsylvania Sports Hall of Fame and was unanimously elected to the Executive Committee. Roger was a life member of the Appalachian Trail Club, Keystone Trail Association, Warrior’s Trail Association and the Maine Appalachian Trail Club. Across 32 years, hiking in sections, Roger completed the entire 2,174.1 mile Appalachian Trail on September 17, 2004.

In 1998, Roger received an Honorary Doctor of Divinity from Washington and Jefferson College and delivered the Baccalaureate sermon for his son Steven’s commencement. In 1994, Roger delivered the main address for W&J’s Honors Convocation.

Roger treasured his time with his family. He enjoyed world traveling with his wife Kitty to places such as Europe, South Africa, Australia, Tahiti and China. He was very happy to have visited all the continents except Antarctica.

Roger is survived by Catherine “Kitty” Trettel Fischer, his wife of 48 years; two sons, Roger Raymond II (Marcia) and Steven Gregory (Heather); and a daughter, Catherine “Katy” (John) Herold; and five grandchildren, Abigail, John “Jack” and Maxwell Fischer, and Elijah and Ezekiel Herold; and a brother, Terry.

Obituaries are almost the Charlie Brown teacher of the newspaper or what’s left of them. They are the Wawa Wawa Wawa summations of Someone’s life. At best, they provide a summary of how a person was; what they leave behind, and specifically who is most affected because of their death. But make no mistake, there’s much,  very much that they leave out. 

Roger’s obituary gave no smidgen of a hint of all of the lives he Touched, specifically mine. I’ve heard it said that when we are born each of us are given a fingerprint which is distinctive to ourselves; it’s a fingerprint that no one else has or can ever have so that we can make an imprint on other lives that no one else can or ever will. Roger more than did that for, TO ME!

I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know Roger; but specifically he was a Sunday school teacher of mine in seventh and eighth grade and also taught our Catechism class at First Lutheran Church in Washington, Pennsylvania. It was there that I remember one Saturday morning when I was not allowed to go to basketball practice because I had to go to Catechism class at 9 o’clock in the morning and I literally erupted in the class, complaining about how stupid this was and how much I did not want to be there and how I really HATED the Church; ANY CHURCH! Even though there was about 14 or 15 in the class, Roger treating me like I was the only one that was there that day, at that moment and he didn’t react; he responded. The fact he congratulated me and told me how brave it was for me to speak my truth was huge and affirming. And then, with one simple question, he convicted, changed my life path:

“WHY DON’T YOU DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT?”

Which made me irrupt even further as if you could reload a fire crackers it was already burning hot. 

“DO SOMETHING,!” I yelled. “I’M JUST 13 YEARS OLD!  WHAT CAN I DO?”

And again, in pure Roger fashion, he replied back as if I was the only person there, the only person in the World that had his ear, his attention:

“ANOTHER GOOD POINT, CHARLIE, (something I hated anyone to call me) BUT IT HAS BEEN MY EXPERIENCE IF YOU WANT TO CHANGE SOMETHING, YOU DON’T COMPLAIN ABOUT IT FROM THE OUTSIDE, YOU GO INSIDE AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!”

B U S T E D
and even more
C O N V I C T E D

Up until that point when people would ask me, “what are you gonna do when you grow up?” I would, without hesitation answer, I was going to be a professional basketball player and I was going to be a teacher and a coach but never, no way ever, EVER a minister.

Now countless times over the past nearly 50 years when people ask me why did you become a minister, they kind of wait for me to give him this great spiritual, unbelievable mountaintop experience testimony, and instead I tell them it’s because I hate the church and then I tell them the story about Roger and me one Saturday morning at a Catechism class that I didn’t want to be at, but now ever so grateful that I attended that day. 

We kept in touch throughout the years and he knew the personal impact of that story because I made sure that I told him and with every chance that I got and profusely thanked him and the times I blamed him for what he did to me by making me go into the ministry. He told me never to expect an apology and I told him I wasn’t asking for one. 

So after all the Wawa Wawa Wawa Wawa–ing of a Charlie Brown teacher during this blog, you may still not know personally Roger Raymond Fisher, or even care that much, but mine is a shore his Tsunami has radically wrecked that made it impossible to rebuild in a way my imagination could ever conjure up; it’s caused severely significant after shocks that have created tidal waves in me that have touched countless other shores, Roger had no understanding or fathoming; still are. Little did I know that Roger was A Caring Catalyst long before I knew what one was, let alone striving to be a better one each day. There’s only five true words that are left to be said by me. But oh my, are they most sincere:

THANK YOU;
SEE YOU LATER

WAWAWA THAT, Charlie

A Dad’s DAD

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Dick Hoyt died on March 17 and yet he’s never been more alive. . .
WHO???
Who exactly. . .
I never met Mr Hoyt
but I read/heard about him years ago
when I was still running marathons
at a pretty good clip
and an even better speed
but nothing like
Dick Hoyt
did. . .

STRONGEST DAD IN THE WORLD

RICK REILLY is a great writer and a very frequent contributor to SPORTS ILLUSTRATED and I not only bow to his craft but instead of even trying to rephrase or even poorly plagiarize him, I thought I’d share what he had to say but I deeply felt:

I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots.

But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.

Eighty-five times he’s pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he’s not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars–all in the same day.

Dick’s also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much–except save his life.

This love story began in Winchester, Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs.

“He’ll be a vegetable the rest of his life,” Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. “Put him in an institution.”

But the Hoyts weren’t buying it. They noticed the way Rick’s eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. “No way,” Dick says he was told. “There’s nothing going on in his brain.“

“Tell him a joke,” Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain.

Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? “Go Bruins!” And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, “Dad, I want to do that.”

Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described “porker” who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. “Then it was me who was handicapped,” Dick says. “I was sore for two weeks.”

That day changed Rick’s life. “Dad,” he typed, “when we were running, it felt like I wasn’t disabled anymore!”

And that sentence changed Dick’s life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.

“No way,” Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren’t quite a single runner, and they weren’t quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year.

Then somebody said, “Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?”

How’s a guy who never learned to swim and hadn’t ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried.

Now they’ve done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii. It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don’t you think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you’d do on your own? “No way,” he says. Dick does it purely for “the awesome feeling” he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.

This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992–only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don’t keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.

“No question about it,” Rick types. “My dad is the Father of the Century.”

And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. “If you hadn’t been in such great shape,” one doctor told him, “you probably would’ve died 15 years ago.”

So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other’s life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass., always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father’s Day

That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy.

“The thing I’d most like,” Rick types, “is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once.”

To see a photo gallery of Dick and Rick Hoyt, go to SI.com/teamhoyt. If you have a comment for Rick Reilly, send it to reilly@siletters.com.

“Dad, when we were running, it felt like I wasn’t disabled anymore!”

Dick Hoyt gives his son that feeling as often as he can.

Kind of gives
FATHER’S DAY
a whole new meaning, huh. . .
M A Y B E
m a y b e
all those years
all those races
all those marathons
all those Ironmen Triathlons
he wasn’t pushing his son, Rick so much
as he was pushing me
and anyone else who took notice
TO BE A NO LIMIT
d a d
TO BE A NO LIMIT
p e r s o n
TO BE
what it took
when it took
how it took
TO BE
what was truly needed
instead of merely
wanted. . .

KAZE NO DENWA (Phone of the Wind)

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“Hello. If you’re out there, please listen to me.” On a hill overlooking the ocean in Otsuchi Town in northeastern Japan is a phone booth known as the “Telephone of the Wind.” It is connected to nowhere, but people come to “call” family members lost during the tsunami of the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake. Many visit the phone booth including a mother and 3 children who have lost their father. This documentary looks at the unique role that this phone is playing in helping the grieving process of many.

KIND OF CHILLING, huh. . . ?
QUESTION:
WHO WOULD YOU CALL
on the Wind Phone

Kaze no denwa (phone of the wind)

curling whispers from the depths of the earth
carried by the wind
through every crack and crevice
finally reaching my ear

i’ve missed your smile
your warm glow
gentle touches
please come back to me

i want to hear your voice again.

in a little town
on the coastline of Japan
stands a white phone booth 
in a small backyard

in the booth is a telephone
rotary, the clicking numbers
line going nowhere 

but the wind carries words
of the lost loved to us
so we can speak to them again

“grandpa, are you well?”
“i won a prize in school today!”
“is it cold over there?”

maybe i can’t hear your voice
for real again
but
if for one instant
i could say “i love you”
i’d be happy.

In Otsuchi, Japan, there is a telephone booth with a rotary phone with an unconnected phone line. It was built by Itaru Sasaki after his cousin died in 2010 as a way to talk to him and have closure. Many from Otsuchi use the phone to talk to loved ones lost in the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami. Some come for one long talk to say things they could not, and some regularly visit to talk to the deceased about everyday things. It’s become a way to connect to the past and the one’s they’ve lost, since many Japanese do not usually tell people that they love them often to their face. It’s a way to lay regrets to rest. Sasaki said that he wanted the line to not connect to anything, so that his words would be carried on the wind to his cousin. And so, the wind phone remains. 

. . .R E M A I N S
to let us know that
L O V E
is the one thing
IN AND OUT OF THIS WORLD
that CONNECTS US
and with or without a phone
it’s the clearest connection
you’ll ever experience. . .
Now,
about THAT Call. . .
get to dialing

The Luckiest

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My parents would have celebrated
their 69th Wedding anniversary
TODAY
June 7, 2021
I believe they still do
because that
“till death do us part”
never really separates.          .          .
Tomorrow
June 8, 2021
Erin and I are celebrating our
35th Wedding Anniversary.

On June 8, 1986
the odds makers gave us a 35% chance of surviving our second marriage
which blended two families together
and it even went down a few percentage points when we had
o       u       r
two children within the first four years of our marriage.

T     O     D     A     Y:

the odds makers are ruling in our favor.

T     H     E     Y
say
77% of couples married since 1990 reached their 10-year anniversaries according to recent census figures.  It’s a supposed slight increase from 74% in the 80’s when divorces were at an all-time high.

N      O      W

Fifty-Five percent of all married couples have been married for at least 15 years, according to the Census report, while 35 percent have celebrated their 25th anniversaries and a special

S     I     X          P     E     R     C     E     N     T
have made it to 50 years.

The Social Scientists are giving us all kinds of reasons why couples have not only leveled off the divorce train but actually turned it around:

Better Communication

More Equal Rights and Pay

Being Friends First

Compatibility

Financial Stability

Bradford Wilcox, the Director of the National Marriage Project at the University of Virginia tells us,

“Marriage is actually becoming more stable in America and divorce is becoming less common.”

He goes on to say,

“There is sort of more of a soul mate model of marriage today. . .50 years ago, this was one of the things you did when you became a young adult.  You found a boyfriend or girlfriend and if you were pretty happy you’d go ahead and get married. . .Today the bar for marriage is much higher because people want a soul mate, not just a spouse.  And a soul mate should be someone who is capable of providing you with emotional fulfillment, an intense relationship.”

What do I know after 35 years?

I know

that I can give the World, but Erin can bring me home.

I know

that we can show each other what we can never see by ourselves

I know

that she’s a beautiful blue ocean and I’m an extensive sandy shore

I know

that her Better

conquers my Worse

I know

that her Richness

obliterates my Poverty

I know

her Health

cures my Illnesses

I know

her Love is my never ending Christmas Day

I most ultimately know

I’m not

the strongest,

the bravest,

the smartest,

the brightest,

the thinnest,

the fastest,

the surest,

the most handsome

but no one can ever convince me

that  I’m  not  the

l       u       c       k      i      e      s      t

The one thing after all of these years

I absolutely-for-the-life-of-me-cannot-figure-out:

Why   she   said

Y       E       S

but I’m in heaven now and forevermore

because she

did.        .        .

Great relationships aren’t  the ones that last a lifetime,

they’re ones that last a second past eternity.

I don’t know what the percentages of

T            H            A            T

a r e.        .        .

but when you have it.           .           .

you no longer care;

It’s a Math
you can’t figure out
but  adds  up
a     n     y     w     a     y

(and we just can’t stop smiling)

DON’T LOVE

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There really is a guarantee. . .
It’s a lockdown
full proof
100% sealed shut case:
You will never hurt
You will never shed a tear
You will never have a sense of loss
You will never have a moment of sadness
And to get this full proof guarantee
it’s not what you have to do
it’s what you don’t have to do
and it really is this simple:
DON’T LOVE
Don’t commit
Don’t become vulnerable enough to share your innermost self
Don’t share ever with any expectation of any reward or gift in return
Don’t be available accessible and accountable. . .

And the guarantee is yours
you will not hurt
you will not grieve
you will not experience a sense of loss
you’ll never have saltiest of tears
All of this
and probably a lot more
just because you
DON’T LOVE

Deal?

Wanna shake on it?

Get an ironclad triple your moneyback guarantee

Just
DON’T LOVE
And you too
ladies and gentlemen
can have an
UNBREAKABLE HEART

It may not beat the same
but it won’t be broken,
either.  . .

TOUCHING ART

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https://youtu.be/D6WYes7Or-E
Please Touch the Art
 
This compelling video tells the story of an artist, Andrew Myers, who is so moved by a blind man’s joy at “feeling” three dimensional art that he is inspired to create three dimensional portraits to be experienced by people who are blind or visually impaired. Why is touching artwork so taboo? According to the producers of the film, “Prior to the mid-1800s, tactile interaction was commonplace for visitors experiencing collections of art, but as museums of art evolved, rules forbidding touch became the norm.” In this film, Myers surprises George Wurtzel, a blind artisan working in wood, with a portrait. Wurtzel delights in sharing his portrait with his visually impaired students at Enchanted Hills Camp as he teaches them by example how to work as a blind artisan. Wurtzel’s philosophy that “your life is what you decide it will be” permeates the film.

It is such a simple simple question with such a profound and almost on answerable reply:  
WHAT MAKES YOUR LIFE MEANINGFUL?

Is your life ultimately what you decide you want to make it to be or what OTHERS decide they’d like to make you be?

We are all severely handicapped 

We are blind
We are deaf
We are mute
And because of THAT
Know a darkness;
Know a stillness;
Know an utterlessness
that can’t be described only experienced
And sadly, often is
And even more sadly,
Often
NEVER HAS TO BE

And The cure is when we remedy that
first of all and ourselves
we also heal it for others. . .

Test THAT

GO AHEAD

TOUCH
TASTE
SEE
HEAR
SMELL
S E N S E
beyond what
Fingers
Eyes
Noses
Mouths
Ears
can ever achieve and the
Go full on artist
Be artisan enough
To share THAT with OTHERS
So that you become the
a r t
And not just simply the artist….

FRIEND

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OUR FRIEND tells the inspiring and extraordinary true story of the Teague family—journalist Matt (Casey Affleck), his vibrant wife Nicole (Dakota Johnson) and their two young daughters—and how their lives are upended by Nicole’s heartbreaking diagnosis of terminal cancer. As Matt’s responsibilities as caretaker and parent become increasingly overwhelming, the couple’s best friend Dane Faucheux (Jason Segel) offers to come and help out. As Dane puts his life on hold to stay with his friends, the impact of this life altering decision proves greater and more profound than anyone could have imagined. . .

S H O C K E R!!!!
 I love the
gots-to-have-a-box-of-tissues-to-watch-this-movie
Kind of movies
but the ones that require the most tissues

are the ones who remind me
not who I could be,
b u t
WHO I COULD BE MORE OF
(KIND OF LIKE)


Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
The best kind of a movie based on a true story is the
THE ONE YOU’RE STILL MAKING. . .

QUIET ON THE SET.
READY.
ACTION.  
CUT.
THAT’S A (ongoing) WRAP

It’s time to be WHO YOU ARE for another,
not who you were
or who you’re going to be
but just simply,
beautifully who you are:
A FRIEND

A Caring Catalyst

YOU, The Village

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OVER ONE YEAR LATER
. . .We are literally living in some severely surreal times. . .
STILL
well past 365 days later
The World just doesn’t merely seem to be rocked on it’s axis
or upside down
But actually less Round than we previously thought. . .
and whatever it was we thought we knew
almost seems
myth-like
to what we’re feeling. . .
L I K E :
IT
TAKES
A VILLAGE
and not that it’s just a nice cliche
IT HAS NEW MEANING

We have all heard it said it takes a village to raise a child. . .
but what about an ADULT?
What’s it take to not so much raise but
CARE FOR
AN ADULT. . . ?
Because of our continuing
MASKING
PHYSICAL DISTANCING
HAND SCRUBBING
VACINNATING
We’ve never been less of a Village
than right now,
AND THEN AGAIN. . .
never more than
A Village
OF ONE
than NOW. . .
Who could have ever imagined,
even with all of our safety measures
that one person could be a Village. . .
that YOU are a Village?  
It is true isn’t it. . .
Y O U
 The Village
. . .How is that even possible?  
Because now more than ever you are re-defining
overcoming the myth
you have lived with all of your life
The fib that’s been told to us
ever since we were very
very small
the lie that might’ve been the first lie
we ever heard:
That you have a purpose
That you have a reason
That you have a destiny
That you have a meaning. . .
T O D A Y
especially today
with what’s going on all around us
all that’s grumbling loudly within us
where our World feels like it has been
rolled down a steep hill
heading quickly for a cliff
of a dark unknown return
stumbling and rumbling out of place;
B U T
now more than
our ever
we are eerily discovering
that we were born for
THIS TIME
in THIS PLACE
for THIS MOMENT
THIS NOW. . .
And it’s not to be
For a Purpose
For a Meaning
For a Reason
For a Destiny. . .
It’s truly to be
A Village
YOU,
The Village
. . .because now more than ever
we have never been more
P L U R A L
than Who we are in right now.  . .

Now more than ever
Y O U
are not just a Person
A Woman
A Mom
A Man
A Dad
A Partner
A Significant Other
A Uncle
A Aunt
A Grandfather
A Grandmother

You’re not just what your vocation says you are
you are all of those roles
all of those characters
wrapped up in one. . .
You are a walking
You are a talking
You are a living
You are a giving
V I L L A G E
YOU,
The Village

Now the most ultimate question of all
. . .especially for this new
N O W
is just what kind of a
Village are you. . . ?

Can you even be found on a map
Seen from a Satellite from way above;
Are you inclusive
Are you exclusive
Do you draw circles and include everybody
or are you a line drawer in the sand
that points as it emphasizes
you
You
and YOU
are IN
and
You
You
and most especially
Y O U
are out?

YOU,
The Village
are living in an age where the temporary feels like the permanent
but it most assuredly isn’t. . .
The new
NEW
is born in you
not just once
or once in a while
or even once a day
but every single moment. . .
And now
N O W
proves to us that it always has been this way
but never as magnified
as it is at this very
I N S T A N T

We have long heard the question
that determines whether or not we are
Optimists or Pessimists :
Is the glass half full or half empty?
N O W
Maybe another way to ask this question
Is this
NOW
Happening to us
or
HAPPENING
For Us.  . .
It’s no longer
WHAT FILLS YOUR GLASS
b u t
WHAT EMPTY’S IT
(or WHO). . . ?

It’s not really a question to answer with your mouth
but your Actions;
so how live you. . .
not what say YOU
 HOW LIVE YOU

YOU ARE A VILLAGE

To know it is one thing.
To be it is another.  
But this
N O W
means to share it
is
the ultimate thing


. . .and then never let the
l o v i n g
stop from overflowing
from one
to another
until this
S E T T L E M E N T
becomes
YOU-NIVERASL


A Forever Valentine’s Day

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A B S U R D
A VALENTINE’S DAY CHRISTMAS TREE
o r. . .
A Reality we should all be making true
not EVERY once in a while but
EVERY DAY. . .

Here’s to Valentine’s Day
never being just a day and
YOU PROVING IT. . .
if you want to be a part of
making the UN-REAL,
ULTRA-REAL
then you’ll enjoy these stories Sara Aridi, a staff editor on the Home team, where she produces the home screen and mobile app. She joined The Times in 2016. 

Witnessing Kindness and Love in Unexpected Places

Ahead of Valentine’s Day, and now way past it, we asked readers to share moments when they stumbled upon acts of affection. Here are some of their stories.

Credit…Nadia Hafid

Has this happened to you? You’re going about your day, minding your business. Then you suddenly spot a caring interaction that lifts your spirits, like a couple embracing or a stranger lending a hand to another.

These days, the world could use a pick-me-up. Ahead of Valentine’s Day, we asked readers to share when they unexpectedly witnessed an act of love or kindness. More than 100 readers wrote in with stories of affection, from years ago or just recently. Here are a select few, edited and condensed for clarity.

I’ve been walking in my local park more often. My heart has been moved by two friends who meet every morning. They are male and likely in their mid-80s. They arrive separately, each with coffee and a Dunkin’ Donuts bag. They sit on adjoining benches, six feet apart. One doesn’t start his coffee until the other is there. They aren’t particularly talkative with others in the park — I’ve tried. Their focus is on one another.

— Grace E. Curley, Boston

My 90-pound Bernese mountain dog, Lilly, has a neurological problem that makes her fall down. This causes her great distress. My golden retriever, Katie, came over to Lilly this morning after she had fallen, and licked her on the lips. Then she took a nap and snuggled against her canine sister.

— Penny Nemzer, Greenwich, Conn.

After months of staying at home, my 2-year-old son was not excited to be around strangers. That changed when he started day care. One of the first friends he made was Dennis, a construction worker who works near his school. Dennis often gives a high-five and a fist bump before my son lists all the new words he’s learned. He looks forward to this interaction every day, and Dennis never disappoints: He is always there with a big, welcoming smile.

— Smita Jayaram, Jersey City, N.J.

As the morning bell rings, one of my Grade 3 students would enter the school lobby holding his younger brother’s hand. My student would carefully help his brother remove his mittens and unzip his jacket. Then he would tenderly kiss the top of his head before they split up for their own classrooms. Such a loving and responsible gesture.

— Sheila Bean, Calgary, Alberta

Riding the bus years ago, I noticed a young man suddenly stiffen and slide sideways from his seat, stricken with a seizure. The passengers grew silent. We were concerned, flustered. The driver radioed for help and pulled over. Then a woman sat on the floor beside the young man. Humming quietly, she began stroking his hands. We all got off the bus, but the woman and boy stayed together. Her hum became a quiet song as they waited for his spasms to end.

— Tracy Huddleson, Garden Valley, Calif.

I have a balance problem after an operation on a brain aneurysm affected my ability to do certain things like bending or looking sideways. One day while walking with a stick through the city, I realized that my shoelace was undone. I just kept walking. Suddenly a young woman stopped. “Hey,” she said, “your shoelace is undone. Here, let me do it up in case you trip.” She tied the shoelace, smiled and walked on.

— Carol Lange, Oxford, England

I was 6 years old and spending the night at my grandparents’. While I was sitting on the porch, a couple walked past. The man reached down and plucked one of my grandmother’s tulips out of the garden and gave it to his lady love. I was outraged and ran into the house, yelling that someone had “stolen” one of my grandmother’s flowers. She calmed me down, held my hand and said, “That’s what flowers are for.”

— Clare Poth, Buffalo

I was walking to the post office. An older, masked couple walked slowly on the other side of the street. During the pandemic, people walk fast, avoid contact and try to get their things done quickly. For a moment, the couple stopped. They kissed through their masks and continued walking. It gave me some hope, that even in these times, love and human connection prevail.

— Susi Reichenbach, Brussels

We were at the beach on Martha’s Vineyard. The sun was bright coral and hanging over the horizon. Just as it was about to set, there was a commotion a few yards in front of us. A young man had just proposed to his partner, and everyone around them just turned to watch them take the first step into their new lives.

— Harriet Bernstein, West Tisbury, Mass.

When I was little, my parents and I flew to Seattle often to visit their friends. Once, while at the airport, I saw what I presumed to be a husband and wife embrace, kiss and tearfully say goodbye. That surprised me. My parents had just divorced and had never been overly affectionate. I think about that couple often.

— Margaret Anne Doran, Charlottesville, Va.

I was standing in a crowded subway train, facing a woman who was sitting. I was going through a terrible week. I was exhausted and overcome with emotion. All of a sudden, I started to cry. It almost didn’t occur to me that anyone could see me. But the seated woman did, and she handed me a tissue without saying anything except for giving me a comforting, knowing look.

— Nicole Shaub, Boerum Hill, Brooklyn

My mother often traveled for work when I was in high school. She could be away for weeks at a time. During one of her trips, I wandered into my parents’ room. My father was smelling one of her scarves. Blushingly, he put it down and said, “I was just missing your mother.”

— Sarah Hughes, Rockville, Md.

While I was driving, something up ahead brought everyone to a standstill. There was restlessness and frustrated honking. But when the cars in front of me moved into the next lane, I saw that a woman in one car was repeatedly stopping, getting out, grabbing brown-bag lunches and distributing them to the many homeless people on the side of the road. She offered them conversation, care and warmth, and seemed not to care about the frazzled drivers behind her.

— Sam Alviani, Denver

Several years ago, I was walking in the East Village when a biker got clipped by a car. The biker was hurt and bleeding, and the car drove away. Within seconds, dozens of New Yorkers sprang into action. Several people ran down the street to note the car’s license plate number. A ring of people surrounded the biker to administer first aid, ripping off sweatshirts to stanch the bleeding. In under two minutes, ambulances and police cars had arrived on the scene. There was not a second of chaos. It was a beautiful ballet of competence and confidence. New Yorkers care for each other.

— Elizabeth Brus, Cobble Hill, Brooklyn

We’re back in school, and we’re at choir rehearsal. Scrupulously adhering to guidelines, my students are singing outdoors, in masks, 10 feet apart. It’s January in New England, 34 degrees and overcast with an icy breeze.

Two high school senior boys, young men now, members of the choir I direct, inseparable since forever and never silent in rehearsal until Zoom muted them, chatted and laughed and danced together unselfconsciously between singing verses of “Bridge Over Troubled Water.”

They look like there’s nowhere in the world they would rather be.

— Scott Halligan, Longmeadow, Mass. 

As I was headed to the drugstore, a high school-aged boy walked out carrying a bouquet of yellow daffodils. Someone yelled from across the street: “Are you looking to get lucky?” He answered: “No, I think I’m in love!” This happened probably 40 years ago, and I still think about it.

— Sallie Wolf, Oak Park, Ill.

Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:

If you’re looking for
L o V e
as a certain Shape, Texture, or Color
you risk missing it–
D O N ‘ T. . .

Every time Love comes showing up
all full bloom and neatly arranged

It has a not so pretty side
that shows off all of the flaws
and the scars
that almost makes you forget
the other side. . .
a not-so-subtle-reminder
that sometimes
LOVE AT ITS BEST
ain’t all that pretty or proper
but nonetheless powerful. . .

Brene Brown
will remind you
it’s not for the weak of heart
but for the Hearts of the Weak. . .
and what makes it as palpable as a heart beat
and more necessary than your next breath
is that it always answers
The Question:

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. . .
that’s not only when it gets good
it’s what makes
VALENTINE’S DAY
EVERY DAY
( PROVE IT )

Professional Speaker, Author, Assurance Man