Extreme Kindness Virus Strikes Again

You've heard about "extreme sports" right? I like to participate in "extreme kindness" instead. In fact, about a year ago, I wrote about how contagious "extreme kindness" can become and how my neighborhood has been looking a lot better because of all the kind people who have been picking up litter and going that extra mile for each other.

The other day the Obama administration called for a day of action for health care. So I figured that would be the perfect opportunity to spread the kindness virus a bit. Guess what? It worked.

I posted an opportunity for just 5 people to join me in visiting elders in our local nursing home. There were already 4 of us who visit the nursing home regularly, and we had discovered that there are plenty of elders who love to have visitors on a regular basis. We had already made friends with Grace, Evelyn, Eileen, and many others and we enjoy birthdays, holidays, and ordinary days with them.

Anyway, the plan was to show up at the nursing home and just talk to anyone who happens to be sitting in the hallway or sitting outside the rooms of the people whom we regularly visit. I made it clear that this was not going to be a one-day activity where a group of volunteers shows up to play bingo so that we could feel good about ourselves.

The idea was to make a real connection as a friend with one or two people and then let them know that each of us would be back to visit. It worked beautifully! All 9 of us connected.

Afterwards, all the volunteers told me that they had a lot of fun learning about the lives of their new "friends" and also that for sure they would visit regularly.

That was about a week ago. Yesterday, my daughter and I showed up with a pizza for Evelyn's birthday. Evelyn told us that one of the new volunteers had already stopped by with non alcoholic champagne to celebrate and that she had been waiting for the pizza to go along with it.

Another one of the new volunteers emailed me to let me know that she was on her way to sit with Grace, who has been living there for more than 2 years with no known friends or family.

So now 9 of us have caught the "virus." But instead of making us sick like real viruses, we have all discovered, one by one, that this "kindness virus" actually brings us joy.

We experience joy, because we realize that "others" who may need us, actually have much to offer us, and that we have much to offer them, the gift of our presence.

As I grieve over last week's death of Marjory, who I had been visiting for two years. I celebrate her gifts to me. At 87 years old she played piano for me almost every week. She played hymns from memory while she talked at the same time. She played Christmas songs even in the summer. We didn't care. She constantly reminded me to "love in many ways." And best of all, even up until the end she recited the Beatitudes from memory.

So as we pass the virus on one person at a time, I pass my gift from Marjory to you.

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are the meek: for they shall possess the land.

Blessed are they who mourn: for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice: for they shall have their fill.

Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the clean of heart: for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.

Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Pretty soon if the "Extreme Kindness Virus" keeps spreading, it won't be "extreme" any more at all, it will just be "normal life."

The Gift of Time

I can't believe that it's almost Father's Day.  I just finished celebrating Mother's Day! For my Mother's Day gift, my daughter had bought us tickets to see the Emerson String Quartet play Dvorak at Chicago's Symphony Center and the concert was yesterday. 

What a fantastic time we had! I realize that not everyone likes classical music but for me it was almost a spiritual experience.

Dvorak is known for using folk melodies as a basis for more complicated pieces. At times those melodies bathed me in a stream of warm comforting honey. Later, as the pace of the music picked up, notes galloped and chirped their way into my consciousness and lifted me to a sunrise in the Sangre De Cristo mountains. The violinists, violas, cellist, and pianist (for one of the pieces) enchanted us for more than 2 hours. To me time stood still and I wanted it never to end. 

There was no place I would have rather been than listening to my favorite music with one of my best friends, my daughter. And when she draped her arms around my shoulders and rested her head on mine I took a snapshot of the moment in my memory. Now that she's an adult, such displays of affection are less common than they used to be.

I'm no music critic and I don't know all the ins and outs of classical music, but I'm sharing this moment, just so that when you think about what to get your dad for Father's Day, perhaps you might consider spending time with him doing something that he loves.

The time is so much more valuable than the stuff! It really is!

Obama at Notre Dame

Rather than protest at a speech, I prefer to support life by looking to the life of Dorothy Day for my guidance.  She was a devout catholic journalist who became a social activist and worked to create a better world by using the corporal works of mercy as a basis for her life.

The corporal works of mercy:

• feeding the hungry
  
• giving drink to the thirsty 
  
• clothing the naked 

  
• offering hospitality to the homeless 

  
• caring for the sick 

  
• visiting the imprisoned 
  
• burying the dead 
  

Dorothy Day did have an abortion as a young woman, just like many young women today. She later regretted it and spent the rest of her life supporting life by helping those who were poor, homeless, and hungry. She founded the Catholic Worker movement and opened a "house of hospitality" in the slums of New York City in 1933. To this day similar "houses of hospitality" exist all over the United States.

Do we work to find common ground among those with whom we disagree? Do we reach out in love to those who make us uncomfortable? 

"What we would like to do is change the world. And by fighting for better conditions, by crying out unceasingly for the rights of the workers, the poor....we can to a certain extent change the world. We can throw our pebble in the pond and be confident that is ever widening circle will reach around the world. We repeat, "there is nothing that we can do but love, and, dear God, please enlarge our herarts to love each other, to love our neighbor, to love our enemy as well as our friend."

The above picture is part of an online exhibit on Dorothy Day at Marquette University. 

 

A Buddhist Prayer

Evoking the presence of the great compassion,

let us fill our hearts with our own compassion -
towards ourselves and towards all living beings.

Let us pray that all living beings realize
that they are all brothers and sisters, 
all nourished from the same source of life.

Holy Week and Passover

Blessings to people of all faiths. Listen and watch here.

Below are the words from the chant

Veni Creator Spiritus - Come Holy Spirit

Or here

Below are the words from the chant

In God alone my soul can find rest and peace

In God my peace and joy

Only in God my soul can find it's rest

Find it's rest and peace

My Day of Hope

Hope crept in on the dreariest day of the week. Even though it had been raining all morning and the temperature was planning to hover only around freezing, I shoved my sunglasses in my pocket and headed out to the lake on my bicycle. That small flicker of hope kept nudging me to wish for just a bit of sunshine. I'll tell you about my "day of hope" after I tell you why I needed it so much.

Getting through February, the shortest month of the year, had dragged on endlessly. February pretended to be the longest month of the year. The bleak weather had been holding me hostage for way too long. Many of the times when I did get out, the bleak lives of my neighbors at the halfway house for people with mental illness had been haunting me.

I had been having a lot of trouble trying to process the sadness that stuck to me after my weekly visits. I'm talking about a place where the smell of cigarettes, and stifling heat make you want to throw open every window despite the freezing temperature outdoors.

Each week I cram myself into a tiny little elevator, virtually nose to nose with four or five of the residents, and try to make small talk with "the Pope" or "Princess Diana's relative." I visit a woman who is so paranoid that for 4 weeks in a row, she could not get out of her bed. She would lie there, flat on her back, telling me how scared and how sick she felt. Her husband told me that he couldn't get her to drink water because she was too afraid to go into the bathroom. The tiny cluttered room has barely enough space for the twin beds that she and her husband sleep on. There are no locks on the door and people wander through the halls mumbling and arguing.

I have been struggling with so many questions. Are my short weekly visits really making any difference? Why does anyone have to live that way? How can anyone get better without fresh plants, pets, sunshine, space, and fresh air?

The biggest question that haunts me is this. Why do we warehouse people?

Now, back to the day hope replenished my spirit. 

Two days before "my day of hope" when I had walked along the lake, deadly silence had muffled the shoreline. The entire lake all the way to the horizon had looked like it was frozen solid. I have lived near this lake for many years and have never seen it like this. No waves lapped against the rocks, no sun even dared to peak out from behind the clouds. The cold stony ice produced nothing but cold dead silence.

The next time I ventured out, was my "hope day." Yes, it was raining like crazy. Yes, it was freezing cold. No, I didn't need my sunglasses. But yes, hope began to sneak back in on the songs of the birds who seemed to appear out of nowhere. The huge lump of ice slowly melting and floating away was somehow carrying off that huge lump of despair that had been lodged in my throat.

Then I realized it. My hope is in you! Maybe you can help me to carry hope to others. Hope is not heavy like despair. It is light and can be easy to carry if we do it together.

Could you take a look around where you live? Take fifteen minutes, a half an hour, or an hour each week to visit someone who lives in an isolated or unhealthy environment? It could be a nursing home, a prison, or a neighbor's home that needs a friendly face.

You don't really need to belong to a volunteer organization. You can walk in, talk to a social worker, or the activities director, and ask to visit someone. Or maybe when you meet someone on the street who needs a friend, make a plan to visit that person, or take her to lunch. Maybe..... just maybe....it would break up the day or help that person to understand that he or she deserves to be loved.

By the way, after my "day of hope" at the lake. My neighbor who couldn't get out of bed, got up and sat in a chair, smiled at me and asked me to bring strawberries the next time I visit. You bet I will!

Nothing worth doing is completed in our lifetime,
Therefore, we are saved by hope.


Nothing true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history;


Therefore, we are saved by faith.


Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone.
Therefore, we are saved by love.

No virtuous act is quite a virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as from our own;


Therefore, we are saved by the final form of love which is forgiveness.

Reinhold Niebuhr

Longing

The mundanities of life seem to be taking me further and further away from my center. Rumi's love poems to God help me to remember why I am here. How can words that were written more than 700 years ago resonate so deeply with me today?

I loaned out my "Essential Rumi" book, but fortunately found an extraordinary reading by the author Coleman Banks on you tube.

It's worth the time it takes to watch and listen here.

Below are the words.

Like This

Rumi, translated by Coleman Banks

If anyone asks you

how the perfect satisfaction

of all our sexual wanting

will look, lift your face

and say, 

Like this.

When someone mentions the gracefulness

of the night sky, climb up on the roof

and dance and say,

Like this?

If anyone wants to know what "spirit"

or what "God's fragrance" means,

lean your head toward him or her.

Keep your face there close.

Like this.

When someone quotes the old poetic image

about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,

slowly loosen knot by knot the strings

of your robe.

Like this?

If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,

don't try to explain the miracle.

Kiss me on the lips.

Like this. Like this.

When someone asks what it means 

to "die for love," point

here.

If someone asks how tall I am, frown

and measure with your fingers the space

between the creases on your forehead.

This tall.

The soul sometimes leaves the body, then returns.

When someone doesn't believe that,

walk back into my house.

Like this.

When lovers moan,

they're telling our story.

Like this.

I am sky where spirits live.

Stare into this deepening blue,

while the breeze says a secret.

Like this.

When someone asks what there is to do, 

light the candle in his hand.

Like this.

How did Joseph's scent come to Jacob?

Huuuu.

How did Jacob's sight return?

Huuu.

A little wind cleans the eyes.

Like this.

Let the Beauty We Love 

Rumi, translated by Coleman Banks

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty


and frightened. 

Don’t open the door to the study 

and begin reading.  Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground’

Soul Friendship

In honor of Valentine's Day I offer this poem by John O'Donohue

May the light of your soul guide you.

May the light of your soul bless the work

You do with the secret love and warmth of your heart.

May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.

May the sacredness of your work bring healing, light and renewal to those

Who work with you and to those who see and receive your work.

May your work never weary you.

May it release within you wellsprings of refreshment, inspiration and excitement.

May you be present in what you do.

May you never become lost in the bland absences.

May the day never burden you.

May dawn find you awake and alert, approaching your new day with dreams,

Possibilities and promises.

May evening find you gracious and fulfilled.

May you go into the night blessed, sheltered and protected.

May your soul calm, console and renew you

Listen here to the Inner Landscape of Beauty, an interview with the late John O'Donohue on NPR's Speaking of Faith program.

Day of Service Update

More pictures from our National Day of Service Shoveling Event

Accessibility and Much More

I am so grateful for the many many shovelers who showed up and worked untiringly during our "Martin Luther King Day of Service" curbcut clearing event. I could hardly believe my eyes as the small army of volunteers began appearing in the parking lot behind my building. They kept coming and coming and coming. There were so many of them, all with huge smiles on their faces, eager to help. 

What a contrast to the lonely morning two Sundays ago, when I shoveled curb cuts for two hours to prevent my daughter from getting stuck in her wheelchair during her one block trek to church. Really, those lovely kind hearted neighbors of mine had no idea how much their presence meant to me!

We all learned a lot. The volunteers learned how difficult it is to clear those huge piles of snow after the temperature drops. It was in the teens today. I learned that when we do it next year, I need to be a bit more organized.

But the most important thing I learned is that I am not alone and I live in a fantastic part of the country.

They came from my neighborhood in Evanston, IL. They came from Chicago, and they came from Wilmette. Children, young adults, older adults, all shoveled sidewalks, chipped huge mounds of ice, and cleared curbcuts. So that people with disabilities and elders could get around safely. Some even brought food donations for the Chicago Food Depository. Everybody was excited, energized and more than happy to help out.

While we drank coffee and hot chocolate afterward, some of us discovered that we had been living within just a couple of blocks of each other and we laughed at the fact that it took the internet and a community service project for us to finally connect. 

What a day! I've been smiling so much that my cheek muscles hurt. No, we didn't solve the problem completely. And yes, there's still plenty of snow to shovel and we still have to figure out how to get the city to stop plowing the snow into the curbcuts. But I am absolutely certain that "yes we can" improve our community when we work together.

Each of these extremely hard workers needs to be recognized. Thanks, thanks, thanks! 

Below is one of the messages that I received from volunteer Steve. It may not sound like we accomplished much, but you can't believe how long it took to clear each corner.

Wow, what a great turnout! .....I don't have to tell you how hard it was to cut thru some of the ice but we prevailed and did some pretty good work.

The only remarkable piece was at the corner of Monroe and Elmwood (NW crossing heading South). The snow was piled at least 4 feet high and the entire walkway was buried(daunting). I just couldn't tackle that one after breaking up the ice on Ridge. However, a team of really hardy souls just dove right in and opened the entire crossing. 

Our entire group was terrific, no one complained, they all jumped right in and did an awesome job.

We took many more pictures which I will post soon. These are just a few of us who stopped in at the coffee shop afterward.


Some people went home and shoveled again or shoveled at their own homes if they weren't able to join the group. Believe me, it's a lot harder than it looks here!

As probably many of us did today, I shoveled two spots near my apartment this afternoon. Happy to have a greater consciousness of how I can help.

Every blessing,

Terri

National Day of Service

After spending two hours chipping away and shoveling out gigantic piles of snow that city plows had pushed into the curb cuts that are supposed provide access to cross the streets, I began to feel frustrated and exhausted. So I started talking to God, kind of like Tevia in Fiddler on the Roof.  

I cried out in frustration, "Why God, did you create snow?" Surprisingly I got an answer. "So that you can learn to help each other."

Of course all this was in my mind. I wasn't really talking. I didn't want anyone to think that I was delusional. But it did make sense to me. If we are on this earth to learn to love each other, than how can we do it unless we serve each other?

The next day I received the Michelle Obama invitation to sign up for the National Day of Service on January 19 in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.  You can click on the website and find an event in your area or you can host your own. 

So I'm hosting a snow shoveling event in my neighborhood. Our object is to clear the curb cuts and walkways for elders and for those who use wheelchairs. We will meet at noon. Everybody will bring their own shovel and we will create an accessible neighborhood. 

I'm so excited. A few people have already signed up. I don't care if it's an army of volunteers or just a handful. If we can raise awareness and work on a problem at the same time it will be worth it.

If you can't join us and you live where there is snow, you can simply look around your own neighborhood and spend an hour or so shoveling out someone's car, driveway, walkway or curb cut. It's exercise too and costs less than a health club.  

Click here to learn about and sign up for our event.

Click here to find an event in your neighborhood or host your own.

See Boston story here.

Skating and Christmas Update

Wheelchairs are now allowed on the ice rink at Navy Pier. We had a fantastic time skating at the winterfest on Christmas Eve. 

Christmas day we picked up our new friend Grace from the nursing home. She spent the day feasting and laughing at our feeble attempts to communicate through her aphasia. Because she didn't want to go back home at the end of the day we have decided that dinner with Grace will become a tradition at least once a month. Grace is now part of our extended family.

Ooops Never Mind - Wheelchairs Welcome

What a difference a day makes. My daughter has just received a phone call from Joe Russo at the Mayor's Office for People with Disabilities. The people at the Winterfest have decided that it is in everybody's best interest to allow my daughter and her wheelchair on the skating rink with her wheelchair. In fact they will be building a ramp, and sending their employees to training on disability rights as well. We plan to skate to celebrate on Christmas Eve. Wanna join us? Pictures to come. 

Wheelchair banned from Chicago Ice Skating Rink

Because this blog is dedicated to the many people who give of themselves to others, I wish to pay tribute to a man named James. James got into a fight with his boss today because that boss put him in an extremely precarious position. Chicago's Navy Pier hosts an annual Winter Festival complete with giant lighted snowmen, Christmas trees, Ferris wheel, Santa's helpers and free ice skating. My daughter and I love to ice skate. It is one of the activities that we can do together without any special accommodation for her wheelchair.

 There we were wheeling and skating to the sounds of Christmas when James motioned for my daughter to come over to the side of the rink. He told her that she had to get off the ice because his boss told him that "her wheelchair poses a safety risk to the other skaters."  (See the picture? Does she look like a she's threatening the safety of the other skaters to you?) James was very apologetic. He told her that hadn't seen any problem with her skating in her own way. In fact he had been enjoying watching her having a good time. 

I couldn't believe it. I was pretty sure banning her from the skating rink was illegal, a violation of the Americans with Disabilities Act. I called city hall. I called our local disability rights organization. No one was available to talk right then. I had hoped that someone in power could convince James' boss that we had as much right to have fun as anyone else. 

Nothing worked. The police were called. My daughter was forced to stop skating. As we sat outside the Winterfest crying and making phone calls, James found us. He offered his phone number in case we needed anyone to support our side of the issue. He told us that he had tried his best to talk his boss out of throwing us out of the rink, and that he felt awful. I am grateful for James and his kind heart, still sad but grateful. 

Banning a young woman who uses a wheelchair from ice skating at the Chicago Winterfest seems to be the very antithesis of the holiday spirit. It's not only wrong, but it also may be illegal. We will continue to work to get this ridiculous policy changed.

Boise, Idaho welcomes wheelchairs on the ice at its holiday festival.

Winter Wonderland in London also welcomes wheelchairs on its ice rink.

Home for the Holiday

A couple of years ago during a personal crisis I was inspired to refocus my life. I decided that instead of coming from fear I would remember to come from love. What that means for me is that I try to pay attention to my interactions with others and when I take action, I try to make sure that my motivation is love, not fear. 

That's why this economic downturn can't hurt my holiday. No, I can't shop like crazy and give tons of stuff, but I don't care. The stuff doesn't really make people happy anyway. I can however share my home, even if it is just for a day. 

 

My daughter and I regularly visit a few people at a local nursing home. We were wishing that we could bring two of the women to our house for Christmas dinner but didn't think the facility would allow it. I'm happy to report that we have figured it out. 

We contacted the social worker, who is arranging transportation and permission from their doctor and we will be able to spend the day together away from the fluorescent lights and institutional food. They'll be able to meet my two year old "across-the-hall neighbor" who stops in for a visit almost every day. They'll meet my other friends who have to work on Christmas day but will be coming over as soon as they get off.  We'll turn on the Christmas music, light up the tree and remember that the economic downturn cannot steal our spirit. Maybe it's an opportunity to remember that we are here for each other.

By the way, if you do have more than enough you might consider helping Pam Koner with her holiday giving. Pam founded Family-to-Family with 17 families mailing food boxes every month to 17 poor families. Family to Family has grown to 27 chapters that provide aid to 375 families in 13 rural communities across America. 

You can visit Pam's website and help here.  And if you're so inclined, maybe find other ways to kick the butt of the economic downturn. I'd love to hear about it.

Thanksgiving Blessings

This is a Thanksgiving day that I will keep tucked in my heart for many years. It seemed especially poignant given the attacks on the people of India. (I continue to pray for the victims and the perpetrators.) The interfaith Thanksgiving Service that I attended included two Protestant minsters, a Catholic priest, a Rabbi, a Buddhist nun, a Bahai leader, and a lot of people who believe in reaching across differences to find our oneness. We sang "This is My Song' from  "Finlandia." This one is a really good version. The words are pasted below. Click here to watch and sing along if you're sentimental like me. 

This is my song, o God of all the nations, a song of peace for lands afar and mine.
This is my home, the country where my heart is;
Here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine;
But other hearts in other lands are beating, with hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.

My country's skies are bluer than the ocean, and sunlight beams on clover leaf and pine.
But other lands have sunlight too, and clover,
And skies are everywhere as blue as mine;
O hear my song, thouh God of all the nations,
a song of peace for their land and for mine.

May truth and freedom come to every nation!
May peace about where strife has raged so long;
that each may seek to love and build together,
A world united, righting every wrong;
A world united it its love for freedom,
proclaiming peace together in one song.

My daughter and I also visited a local nursing home, where we regularly visit a friend with Alzheiemer's and two women who have had strokes. One woman, Grace, has been living there for a couple of years. She has no relatives to visit her and has not recovered her ability to speak. A few days ago, when I brought a birthday cake to Grace, I was surprised to find out that even though she has not been able to speak, she was able to sing every single word of Happy Birthday, perfectly! So today, when we went over there, my daughter brought her violin and played Amazing Grace and some familiar Christmas songs. Once again Grace was able to sing along with some of the songs. We all sang, held hands, laughed and had a fantastic time. Maybe our musical notes were not all in tune but our spirits were. 

Blessings to you on this Thanksgiving. Below is the prayer  from Interfaith Action's 10th annual Thanksgiving service.

For the laughter of the children,
For my own life breath,
For the abundance of food on our table,
For the ones who prepare our sumptuous feast,
For the roof over our heads,
The clothes on our backs,
For our health,
And our wealth of blessings,
For this opportunity to celebrate with family and friends,
For the freedom to pray these words
Without fear,
In any language,
In any faith,
In this great country,
Whose landscape is as vast and beautiful as her inhabitants,
Thank You, God, for giving us all these. Amen

This is my song   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCjuxePRyCo

Wisdom

I opened an email from a friend from Dallas and was inspired by the video it contained. Please watch here. I'm pretty sure you'll love it.

For in her is a spirit intelligent, holy, unique,

Manifold, subtle, agile, clear unstained, certain,

Not baneful, loving the good, keen, unhampered, beneficent, kindly,

Firm, secure, tranquil, all powerful, all seeing, 

And pervading all spirits, though they be intelligent pure and very subtle.

Book of Wisdom 7, 23

Hope Won

No matter how you voted, yes "we are all Americans" and we can work to fix our broken world. I can't stop looking at the pictures from Grant Park in Chicago. They give me hope that Americans can work together. 

 “Your victory has demonstrated that no person anywhere in the world should not dare to dream of wanting to change the world for a better place.” -  Nelson Mandela 

“Your election raises in France, in Europe, and elsewhere in the world, an immense hope." -  Nicholas Sarkozy

Election 2008

This is a sign that hangs on the roof of the Mennonite Church that serves as my polling place.

Come and Play with Us

If you're in the Chicago area on the weekend of November 7 or November 14, then you may want to stop by the Irish American Heritage Center and watch the play Six Stories Up in Peace. It's funny, and interesting on many levels. 

Six Stories Up is an annual production of six original stories woven together around a theme. This year's theme of peace is especially significant considering the vitriolic nature of the political campaign and the fear associated with the economic crisis.

In one of the lines, the Mother Teresa character says "Perhaps Dan has no peace because he forgot that we belong to each other." For some reason that line continues to unfold for me as we rehearse for the show. 

Have we forgotten that we belong to each other? Are we angry because we think that the rich guys got away with something and we are bailing them out? Or are we afraid that someone will take away our comforts so that some poor person can have a better life? 

I believe that we do belong to each other. I find joy in discovering the magnificence in everyone I meet, especially those who may be marginalized by disability, age, or poverty. That's why I am grateful to be a mentor in Six Stories Up.

Six Stories Up pairs up six adult mentors with six middle school children to produce an original theater production.  

Each adult/child team works together for six weeks to write a 10-12 minute theater piece on an assigned theme. The entire group comes together to weave the pieces into a full-length show, which is performed for two weekends at a professional theater. We also provide apprentice opportunities for children in set design, mask making, music composition and stage management.  Because of the intimacy of the group, we are able to take the time to draw out the specific abilities of each child and empower him or her to shine. Kids with disabilities get starring roles, which they rarely get in school. The adults and kids without disabilities grow in their understanding of disability.

Because this year's theme is peace, we researched Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr, Mother Teresa, Wangari Maathai, Greg Mortenson, Socrates, Confucius, and more. The result is not only hilarious, but also poignant and moving. 

So if you have time and you want to remember once again that we in fact do belong to each other, please come to Six Stories Up in Peace. Get details here>>

Call 312-409-1025 for reservations. Adults and children over 5 years old will love it.

If we have no peace it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other - Mother Teresa

Truth

I'm exhausted from the spin. Where is the truth?

I watch the debates. I search the newspapers, factcheck.org, votesmart.org. I refuse to watch the ads.

When I was a child, distorting the truth was considered unethical, immoral, and a sign of a flawed character. 

Please stop!

I'm grateful for Maya Angelou and this breath of fresh air!

A Brave and Startling Truth   

Maya Angelou 

We, this people, on a small and lonely planet 

Traveling through casual space 

Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns 

To a destination where all signs tell us 

It is possible and imperative that we learn 

A brave and startling truth 

And when we come to it 

To the day of peacemaking 

When we release our fingers 

From fists of hostility 

And allow the pure air to cool our palms 

When we come to it 

When the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate 

And faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed clean 

When battlefields and coliseum 

No longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters 

Up with the bruised and bloody grass 

To lie in identical plots in foreign soil 

When the rapacious storming of the churches 

The screaming racket in the temples have ceased 

When the pennants are waving gaily 

When the banners of the world tremble 

Stoutly in the good, clean breeze 

When we come to it 

When we let the rifles fall from our shoulders 

And children dress their dolls in flags of truce 

When land mines of death have been removed 

And the aged can walk into evenings of peace 

When religious ritual is not perfumed 

By the incense of burning flesh 

And childhood dreams are not kicked awake 

By nightmares of abuse 

When we come to it 

Then we will confess that not the Pyramids 

With their stones set in mysterious perfection 

Nor the Gardens of Babylon 

Hanging as eternal beauty 

In our collective memory 

Not the Grand Canyon 

Kindled into delicious color 

By Western sunsets 

Nor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe 

Not the sacred peak of Mount Fuji 

Stretching to the Rising Sun 

Neither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor, 

Nurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores 

These are not the only wonders of the world 

When we come to it 

We, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe 

Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger 

Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace 

We, this people on this mote of matter 

In whose mouths abide cankerous words 

Which challenge our very existence 

Yet out of those same mouths 

Come songs of such exquisite sweetness 

That the heart falters in its labor 

And the body is quieted into awe 

We, this people, on this small and drifting planet 

Whose hands can strike with such abandon 

That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living 

Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness 

That the haughty neck is happy to bow 

And the proud back is glad to bend 

Out of such chaos, of such contradiction 

We learn that we are neither devils nor divines 

When we come to it 

We, this people, on this wayward, floating body 

Created on this earth, of this earth 

Have the power to fashion for this earth 

A climate where every man and every woman 

Can live freely without sanctimonious piety 

Without crippling fear 

When we come to it 

We must confess that we are the possible 

We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world 

That is when, and only when 

We come to it.

© Maya Angelou, from A Brave And Startling Truth

Published by Random House