A Little About
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Feature Stories and Poems.
We seem to be going through a spiritual crisis that can be seen and felt in our state of affairs, in the current health crisis, throughout the whole world… We believe disbelieving We trust without trust We don’t really let go; we have a hard time forgiving ourselves and others We lack in care and compassion for people and other living beings, for the planet that sustains us We think so much of ourselves and so little of others; and when we think of others, it’s often to opinionate, interfere or enable We talk a lot, but don’t listen a great deal We want openness and acceptance, but are often close-minded and unyielding We want attention and sympathy, but don’t offer that much |
One morning I was feeding the rescues cats that live in shelters around our home, when I noticed one of the cats in hunting mode, chasing something. As I got closer, I noticed the cat was mercilessly swatting at a butterfly, playing his catch game. I got closer, shooed the cat away and examined the poor butterfly. The back part of its wings had been slashed on several places, leaving the butterfly still able to fly, but only at short heights and distance. With pain in my heart for the poor butterfly, I decided to try to get it and move it to a safer location where it wouldn’t be so exposed. As I tried to approach it and carefully scoop it in my hands, the butterfly seemed to understand I was trying to help. It simply walked from my cupped hands to my left wrist and just sat there, seemingly waiting for my next move. |
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One day, several years ago, when my mother and I decided to go shopping for clothes together, we stopped at a small, out-of-the-way store which was having a sale. Being the smart and thrifty shopper she had always been, my mother started scouting for the best deals, practical clothes in neutral colors which would “go with everything”, and which were her usual style. As she looked at some dark-color wool pants, I started casually looking through some dresses. Then I noticed, peaking through the long line of matronly-looking dresses in drab colors, a striking yellow dress with small red flower patterns. I showed it to my mother more as a joke than anything, not really thinking she would ever want to try it on. To my surprise, something in that dress made her wonder how she would look in it, and she decided to put it on. |