Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Following Mom's Example


(Continued from Saturday . . . )
Today’s posting is one I wrote for June 9, 2011. Hardly anyone read my blog then, so I suspect it will be new to most of you. My reason for reposting it is to illustrate how my mother’s example, as displayed in last Saturday’s posting, influenced me.
             In that post I shared with you how she responded to everyone with great respect. I learned from her that in giving, we receive. The following story illustrates that. It took place in the spring of 1967, a few months after I left the convent in December 1966.
            Three weeks later, I was offered a job in Dayton, Ohio. Before I left home, Dad warned that men might “hit on me” if I followed the  same route every day. He cautioned against that. I posted Dad’s advice on June 7, 2011, should you like to read its humor.


Mom and Dad on the farm in the mid-1950s.

            Dad was proven right; men did approach me. They didn’t “hit on” me however. Instead, they asked for money. I always gave them whatever change or dollar bills I had. I’d been taught that we could come upon Jesus unawares and not recognize him. In my mind, these men were Jesus. I couldn’t say no.
            One day the vice president of the publishing firm where I worked saw me handing money to a man hunkered against a store wall. “Thank you, Ma’am,” the drifter said and smiled. A serene smile over the gaps of missing teeth. Surely Jesus.           
            I walked on to where my employer waited. “Dee, don’t give these guys money,” he said. “I know how much you make.”
            “They might be Jesus.”
            “What?”
            I explained. He shook his head. “If you have to give them something, tell them you’ll buy breakfast for them. They’ll turn that down flat. They’re only looking for booze money.”
             I took his advice and found him wrong in his assumptions. I ate breakfast with several of these men who inhabited the sidewalks, their heads drooping between tented knees. Together, we gobbled eggs, bacon and sausage links, hash browns, toast, sweet rolls, coffee lightened with cream. All the while, the men shared their life stories with me. Each had a story to tell that showed me the mystery of human existence and the vagaries of life.
            One of these drifters had a different definition of woman from what I’d learned in the Scholasticate—a definition I shared in this blog on June 4, 2011.
            On the spring day I met this defining man, I was wearing a new dress. Short-sleeved. Bright yellow splotched with white daisies. A narrow belt.


A dress I bought the summer after leaving the convent.

             I stood across from the office, waiting for the light to change. In soiled clothes, he teetered toward me. His face sported whiskers and dirt. His straggly hair hung against his hunched shoulders. This is Jesus I thought.
            I started to dig for coins.
            “Ma’am, you’re one mighty fine woman,” he mumbled.
            I dropped the coins and quickly leaned over to pick them up, my thoughts scrambled. He’s talking about my figure. This dress is too clingy. My body’s not hidden in black serge. He can see the outline of my bosom. I covered it with my purse.
            “Did ya hear what I told ya? One damn fine woman,” he slurred.
            “Thank you.”
            “Real perky.”
            “Thank you.”
            The light changed. I started across. He followed.
            “One damn fine figure of a woman.”
            “Thank you.” I was walking faster.
            “I’m tellin’ ya the truth, Ma’am. One mighty fine figure.”
            “Thank you.”
            I wanted to run, but this was Jesus. He might smell like whiskey, but who says Jesus has to be a teetotaler? He was the most famous brewer of all time. Witness Cana. Who says he has to wear newly laundered clothes? This was Jesus.
            “How’d you like some breakfast?”
            I treated him to a meal. Hank was a fine man.
            And I?
            I wasn’t a seamstress. But I was one fine figure of a woman.
            Damn fine.
            Now surely this is an example of how in giving, we receive.
           
An afterword: For much of my adult life I let others define me. Only in the past few years have I chosen to grow into and embrace my own definitions.
            During this month of January, I’ve planned a series of postings about my  peaceful activism. Working on this series, I’ve realized that since my youth, I’ve been a seeker of justice for all.
            Once again, this on-line memoir is revealing to me something about myself. Thus is the healing power of telling our story.
                                                            (Continued on Thursday . . . )

42 comments:

  1. Your life story continues to be remarkable, Dee, with lessons to learn in each and every post. I'm afraid I don't always see the fine qualities in individuals, especially those lingering in corners. It strikes me that these men were not so much Jesus as that you were doing what Jesus would do.

    I am so interested in your activism and to see how your story continues. I think that we all have our own life stories, formed in our youth, and that we learn through all of our experiences along the way as you are learning here. Thank you for all your sharing.

    On a separate note, I've been having a bit of a problem posting comments on your blog, so, hope this works today. Just so you know, I'm still here, reading, enjoying, and growing through your words.

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    1. Dear Penny,
      I hope that posting comments gets easier for you because I always so enjoy reading your thoughts.

      Perhaps I was doing what Jesus--whom I call by his Jewish name, Yeshua--would do. But I have a firm belief in the deep down goodness of those we encounter throughout our lives. If we understood all, we'd forgive all and welcome all. Or so I think.

      Peace.

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  2. This is a dual comment.

    Your mother sounds a lot like my grandmother. She and Grandpa always gave those men food. Some of the men had been in WW1 and Grandpa wanted to give something to them.

    I admire that you took those men out to breakfast, listened to their stories. "They might be Jesus..." We never know what kindness is extended beyond our humble offerings.

    Thanks, Dee, for a wonderful post, a wonderful blog. Susan

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    1. Dear Susan,
      Yes, some of the men in the early '40s had been in WWI. Later, in the '50s they'd been in WWII and some talked about the Korean War.

      I enjoyed those breakfasts. I like to learn the stories we each offer one another.

      Peace.

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  3. As always, this post was fascinating. I admire the way you are learning to know who you are & your ability to let us learn along with you. You are a remarkable woman--with an amazing talent for writing!

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    1. Dear Fran,
      Thank you for your kind words. The journey to some kind of maturity has been long and I've stumbled a lot. The truth is that I'll continue to do so, but the journey is so fulfilling and meaningful. I love reading about your life in the postings you've been doing on other blogs. As I've said before--you are a marvel.

      Peace.

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  4. Dee, I'm so glad you re-posted this post from before I found your blog. It tells a wonderful story of human understanding, respect and kindness. You are indeed your mother's daughter.

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    1. Dear Perpetua,
      Few things anyone could say to me would mean as much as to hear that I am my mother's daughter. Thank you.

      Peace.

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  5. I also am glad you re-posted this one. I also read the linked one about the definition of a woman. I smiled, remembering all the patterns and pinking shears of my own youth. I also give money to strangers who beg on the street. It was terribly hard when I was visiting Vietnam because there were so many of them.

    Just the other day I said no to a guy on the street. I wasn't thinking he was Jesus, but that I had been a victim and he might be the one who stole from me. I'm glad you wrote this today, because I realize it was wrong thinking, and that I can choose to be generous and forgiving. The opposite of being a victim. :-)

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    1. Dear DJan,
      Sewing has never been my forte!

      I would imagine Vietnam would have been truly difficult for a generous woman like yourself. I hope you're not "beating yourself up" because of not giving to that man the other day. One of the things that happens, as you know now, is that when we experience what you have we grieve and part of what we're grieving is the loss of trust we find in ourselves. Be patient with ourself. Please.

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  6. This is an amazing mini-memoir, Dee. I agree 100% with your viewpoint--any one of these men could be Jesus. When I see someone, I think he/she is a potential god or goddess. But I've become less outgoing over the years in approaching strangers, especially men. Maybe I just haven't been approaching such situations, as you have, with the "correct" mental set. YOU are the true ambassador of peace.

    My brother was once one of the homeless wandering the streets of Salt Lake City. I took him in. This is maybe my next memoir, most of it already written. He passed away in March 2011, my younger and only brother. This post that you happily resurrected--I'm so glad you did--reminded me of him.

    I came over here from a comment you left today on my post (I'll be putting up a new post in the morning, my weekly post). You asked me how I manage blogging and writing. Right now I'm not feeling pressured to get another book finished and published. Nor am I feeling pressure to blog as fervently as I did both before and after my memoir was published (though I still feel I must keep promoting it, and will). I'm leaning toward relaxing more during the day; reading more books, including scriptures; and giving more quality time to my disabled daughter; watching more movies with her. We both love movies. I'm almost 72. I need to RELAX.

    Don't know if this helps your situation as you struggle to balance writing and blogging. I just think we need to keep our priorities straight. People are most important, as you discovered long ago. You are, as Perpetua says, your mother's daughter. Reaching out to those in need is one of the most important things we must do in this life. I don't think Christ will be too happy with us if we haven't loved our neighbor as ourself. Sometimes this reaching out takes more time than we want. But I think it is the most Christ-like thing we can do!
    Ann Best, Author of In the Mirror & Other Memoirs

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    1. Dear Ann,
      Thank you for your reflections on the importance of setting our priorities so that we respond to others daily and not just when convenient. Actually, one of the reasons I want to move back to Minnesota after being here in Missouri almost three years is because most of my friends were made there in the thirty-eight years I lived in Stillwater.

      I suspect I'm going to have to visit blogs less often. Perhaps those who post daily will be visited only once or twice a week. I don't like doing that because I so enjoy the blogs of everyone I read. But I'm feeling compelled to write more.

      I'll visit your blog today--Wednesday--to read your latest review.

      Peace.

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  7. I loved this post the first time I read it and enjoyed it just as much today. I am really looking forward to these January posts you've got planned... you sound as though you are back to your healthier self.

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    1. Dear Broad,
      Yes, I feeling much better. Still very tired because that infection truly invaded my whole body. I have a doctor's appt. on Friday for blood work to see if the infection is truly gone. So you're right, Broad, I'm back to my "healthier self"!

      Peace.

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  8. A wonderful read Dee, you were truly blessed with a wonderful mother likewise myself.

    Thanks for ordering my book I posted a contingent last week but not sure how long they take to get from the UK to the US,

    My rest has done me good I didn't remove my last post because I didn't want anyone to know certain things as my life is an open book , but someone wrote me an inappropriant comment.
    I know what I want out of my life and the thing that's been hurting me and making me ill I have accepted things won't change......unless a miracle occurs.
    Yvonne.

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    1. Dear "Poetry,"
      I've discovered that miracle do happen because small kindnesses are done by people whom we may not even know. Somehow change enters our life--mostly unexpectedly. It is the way that we respond to that change that creates, I think, the contentment for which we all long.

      Peace.

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  9. Dee, you are wonderful; I am so glad that I finally caught up with and your memoir again. I have read back over the posts I've missed. You can always be sure that I will eventually catch up.

    One thing always strikes me powerfully when I read about your life: you are innately good and innocent. There are people who make a great deal of fuss over how just and kind and righteous they are; you don't, yet those qualities shine forth.

    I do not have the relationship with religion you have, but that doesn't matter at all. I can recognise and appreciate a good person.

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    1. Dear Friko,
      Oh, I'm so glad that you will "eventually catch up" with my blog. I appreciate how busy you are with your daily life and your memoir writing and your blog reading. You have so many followers who comment on your blog and returning the favor must take so much of your day.

      Thank you for your kind words. My mother is probably grinning because she was so essential to my becoming who I am. And you know, Friko, I've moved a long way from the Catholicism of my youth and early adulthood. I've been on a journey into Oneness and one of these days I'll do some posting about that.

      I, too, can "recognize and appreciate a good person." That's why I so enjoy your blog and your comments and your desire to write.

      Peace.

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  10. Hi, Dee--I have just found you thanks to Penny's blog Lifeonthecuttoff and your response to her recent post re: MLK. I have just read a few of your posts, and I find them to be inspiring. I am looking forward to reading more. Your story about your sharing meals with street people, preceded by your posts about your mom and her feeding homeless people who came to the house for a meal were moving. I am reminded of an MLK quote which fits perfectly: "The hope of a secure and livable world lies with disciplined nonconformists who are dedicated to justice, peace and brotherhood." Thanks for your blog, Dee. Thanks for your life of purpose and spirit.

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    1. Dear "Spindrift,me,"
      Thank you for sharing that MLK quote. I think I have rather stubbornly marched to the tune of a different drummer--been a nonconformist--most of my life. That's created tension because one part of me--the part that has in the past wanted so desperately to be loved--has wanted to please people. Yet always there's been the clarion call to do the right thing no matter what. Those two voices have warred in me at times. And most always, the nonconformist won out!

      I'm glad you stopped by to visit. I'll visit your blog today.

      Peace.

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  11. I am sure you were and are one fine figure of a woman!

    I think as we age we become more comfortable with the person we are. I have been reflecting quite a bit lately and have come to the conclusion that I am (have been) quite a brave, person who has pushed past obstacles and have always tried for what I thought was best path, even though I was always so scared and unsure. The important thing though was the trying and going for it. Things didn't always turn out, but the important thing is that I gave it my all.

    So have you -and more than most.


    Growing old does have its advantages.

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    1. Dear Arleen,
      I'm finding that blogging is helping me realize things about myself. Is that what's happening for you also? Has blogging helped you to embrace your own bravery?

      This growing older is wonderful in that I have a longer life to look back on and can see that for me all has worked out unto good.

      And yes, I agree, the important thing is that we have tried.

      Peace.

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  12. Moving and thought provoking in equal measure. Thank you. It is hard not to be defined by others, and your courage in fighting against it is awe inspiring. I am loving these posts. Thank you.

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    1. Dear Pam,
      So glad that you've visited again. Thank you for your kind words. My "Growing Up" posts reveal one I have let others define me. I wanted to please people so they'd love me. It's taken me decades to move away from that, but now at 75, I find myself content to be who I am when I am and where I am.

      Peace.

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  13. I'm glad you reposted this one, too. I haven't had time to go back and read all the posts of the new people I follow. I keep think I might one day, but I can barely keep up with all the current posts--LOL!

    Dee, I'd love for you to go to my stories blog and read "God On The Bus" if you ever have some time.

    This touched my heart, sweet lady! :)

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    1. Dear Rita,
      I need to figure out how to get to your story blog to read "God on the Bus." I'll try to do that today.

      And, Rita, how can we ever go back and read all the postings on all the wonderful blogs we follow? I tell you I'm frustrated just keeping up with this week!

      Peace.

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  14. Had he seen your heart he would have demanded you marry him. You are a mighty fine woman Dee! What a joy you are.

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    1. Dear Melynda,
      Well, I've never wanted to be married! But Hank would have been a fine person to spend my life with if he and I had perhaps met in a different life!

      I hope you are being good to yourself after that near tragedy with your Meaghan.

      Peace.

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  15. I loved this post, Dee! I'm so glad you reposted it. It's a joy to see your parents' more positive qualities (balancing out the earlier abandonment) which say a lot about who you are. Your story about having breakfast with homeless men made me smile and touched my heart, especially when -- as your mother did earlier -- you listened with such respect to their life stories.

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    1. Dear Kathy,
      I'm so glad I reposted this also as readers can see the influence Mom had on my life. In my Saturday posting I wanted everyone to know another facet of my mom. They knew about the seeming abandonment, but not that my mom was a valiant woman. A truly good woman. She made mistake when I was five, but then how many mistakes have I made? Innumerable and no one seems to hold them against me. She was and is a blessing in my life.

      Peace.

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  16. Dear Dee,
    I was just checking back, as I was sure I left a comment when I read this last night . . . but it isn't here! So, I guess I either got side tracked before I finished sending it, or something happened!

    I love this story. I too, often think of those I see who are down on their luck as Jesus, or at the very least, one of his own. Every Sunday our pastor sends us off with a benediction that goes something like this, "Peace be with you, with those you love, and with those who no one loves . . ."

    Your story makes me think about how simple it is to be kind to those no one seems to love. You've reminded me of a story I need to tell about my daughters and a gift they gave at Christmas one year.

    May peace be with you, gentle Dee.

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    1. Dear Sandi,
      I'm pleased that this posting reminded you of a share to share with your daughters. This blogging world we've entered is one the reminds me daily of stories from my own life. Other bloggers make me think, introduce me to poems and books and art, and help me realize the great wonder of being human. Isn't this world great!!!

      Peace.

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  17. Dee,
    You are so awesome. I wish I could take you out to lunch, or that we could go help Jesus together. Oh, you make me smile!
    -Elisa

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    1. Dear Elisa,
      I'd love to go to lunch with you! But it would have to be a place that served at least one vegetarian entree--could be a good salad or a sweet potato. But something tasty. By the way, your postings almost always make me smile, so I'm glad that this one of mine returned the compliment!

      Peace.

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  18. You certainly have an interesting story. And I love cats. Looking forward to more.

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    1. Dear Sandra,
      Thanks for stopping by. I'll visit your blog tomorrow. Now I'm getting ready to watch "Harry's Law" with Katie Bates. She's a favorite of mine.

      And thank you for saying you find my story interesting. I'm doing an on-line memoir and so I move back and forth between decades!

      Peace to you now and always.

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  19. "Who says Jesus has to be a teetotaler? He was the most famous brewer of all time. Witness Cana." I love how you write. This is such a Good post, filled with kindness, gentleness, a sense of humor, insight, and quiet dignity. "This was Jesus." Yes, the Christ. We are all the Christ. We all have that title. It is our Oneness.

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    1. Dear Teresa,
      Thank you for reminding me that this posting is a story of our Oneness. That belief is why I so appreciated your posting, which I read today, on Lao Tzu. I found the book you mentioned in the library and will pick it up on Friday. Teresa, your love of poetry is inspiring me to begin to read much more contemporary poetry. I've clung to the poets I studied in college. Now it's time to move forward. Thank you.

      Peace.

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  20. Why is it that we women let others define us. It wasn't until recently I asked myself that question after a friend said to me.. you are 90% Mother to all and 10% Pam. I was shocked by that statement and took it to heart but it still took years before I started to change my way of thinking about myself. It is harder than I thought it would be.
    I loved your post, Dee.. Thanks :)

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  21. Dear Pam,
    I hope you define yourself as a gifted photographer, for you are one. And as a writer whose words and photographs evoke a place and appeal to all our senses.

    Peace.

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  22. You have a soft heart. There is nothing more beautiful in the sight of the Lord, I believe. And somehow I think you may have thought you were defined by others, I understand how that would have been true in certain contexts, but really, you've had a tremendously independent spirit. It shows in all you have done in the past and the goals you have set for your future! I just love every personal story you share. And by the way, I love the summer dress. Today you can go into Anthropologie and pay about $200 for it! :-) Debra

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  23. Dear Debra,
    Oh, if only I didn't declutter the house and clothes closet the last week of every year since then. Think of all those dresses I could sell! Why I'd have enough money to move back to Minnesota!!!

    Thank you, Debra, for your kind words. I've been blessed somehow with a tendency always to find good in whatever happens. That's soften my heart as the years have passed. I'm glad you think that I've done some of my own defining of self. I do recognize that somehow no matter how much I wanted to please people I have pretty much always chosen the different drummer.

    Peace.

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