Today is pleasant and mild. We had a thoughtful church service this morning where Pastor Kerry spoke of stewardship and its many facets. I have heard it said that where a person’s heart is…is where you will find them spending time and resources. Indeed…there are many ways to help your fellow congregants and your fellow women and men. I think that the mission outreach of our little First Presbyterian Church in Carbondale, Illinois…was one of the first things that captured my heart. Words are wonderful…but actions speak for themselves. ‘And one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warm and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth profit?’ James 2:6. KJV

My friend, Rob, spoke of the scripture where the man buried the talent that had been given him by his master…in the earth. I have been guilty of this folly. Rob pointed out that all of the talents that had been given to the servant… were intact and not diminished…in the earth. It is so easy to say and believe that others are more talented and gifted and adept at the ministry to the needy… But the reality is that every one of us is made out of the same substance and all of us are children of God and helpers of each other. There is not a person who has been given the gift of life who does not have a gift to share with their brothers and sisters.

Miracles greet us every morning. We are not ordinary. Each of us is unique in all of Creation. We are all part of the Grand Human Story. Do you know someone who is hungry? Buy them some groceries. Do you know someone who is helpless? Help them find warmth and a roof over their head. Do you know someone who is sad and lonely? Make that person your focus for friendship. The Apostle Paul said that we peer through a glass…dimly… But…one day…the picture will be clear. We will see why we were placed on earth and how well we used our…talent…

Aaron began MJ and my day with breakfast biscuits from Hardees. It is a beautiful fall day. We made our Sams Journey this afternoon and purchased a little Bullit Rye for slow sipping…after all, it is the Holiday Season. MJ also bought 12 Mary’s Restaurant tickets…and I knew that we were on for our Christmas Eve Dinner at our favorite Southern Illinois Eatery. Carsie Blanton is live now… online…and she is a wonderful singer and songwriter. If you have not heard her…Google her…she is one of my favorites and has a unique voice and is a courageous social activist for poor and disenfranchised people.

So, everything is not centered around politics or religion or our much-needed technology and infrastructure needs. Many of us admire Religious Studies and Political Science and Chemistry and Engineering and Technology…some of us are Liberal Arts. We love literature and art and creative writing and music and Social Work…and Theatre. We walk a mile to hear a good poem…or hear a Jazz Quartet…or a philosopher speak to us about the meaning of life.

Nature is important. It is where we live. The earth is our only home…we have nowhere else to go. When we die…we return to the very soil that we seem to have little concern about…at present. When I say we are not all into religion or politics…I expressly mean the faux religions of cultism and separation of people. We are not into the politics of hate and fear and the idolatry of conspiracy theory…

Heart emerges as the focal point of so many of us. We go out into our world each day looking for good things to happen. We look to love people…we look for people to love us…we seek an understanding heart and a listening ear…and an open soul… Kind eyes are a winning therapy for the soul. Mental health is real and relevant for every human being. We all are connected by inextricable cords…and we run into significant mental issues and physical issues and emotional maladies…when we seek to sever the cords that we were born with and which are meant for our peaceful and happy survival as we travel home…

Creativity is a gift that we all have. Creative human efforts wrote every song that we enjoy. The spirit of creation wrote the Bible and gathered countless millions to the following of its writings. We read our stories and we are inspired and we are transported and we love our fellow man and woman and child…and those who look different than us or love different than us… or who worship differently than us…or who speak another language…we suddenly realize…are us…

We are here…and then we are gone…be kind along the way…

‘The body turns to dirt…but love goes on and on,’ is a verse from a Carsie Blanton song…

Christmas was only a few days away and Billy B. was ready. He and Chet were planning a Christmas Party that would be like none that anyone had ever experienced. Jane and Sally were coming as well as Daryl and his dad who was the third-grade teacher…and who liked to be called the Wiz. Also, Jeff C. and Jimmy were coming and Lanny…his neighbor. They were going to have it in the Assembly Hall of Washington School and Neva Jane and Thelma had been decorating for a week…it seemed. The Holiday Party was for grades 1-3…and even Mrs. Blackwell was smiling when she heard of the festivities. There was going to be Christmas Punch and Pudding made from recipes that Billy B.’s mom had given to her by her mother who was from England. Along with the Pudding and Punch would be all sorts of English Meat Pies and a roasted goose. Thelma, Chet’s mother, had hired Bill Winters, the town mechanic, to dress up as Santa Claus and surprise the kids. He had a wonderfully authentic red suit and his own homegrown long white beard that rested on his chest. When he laughed his ‘Santa Laugh’ his ’round little belly shook like a bowl full of jelly.’

Lanny, who was a freshman at Eldorado High School, had promised something special for the Christmas Punch…Billy B. shook his head knowingly…but he really did not know. Many of the 1st-grade class were attending as Santa’s Elves…and they had practiced a dance routine to accentuate the Christmas Vision. Chet had decided that he was going to ask Santa for a pocket watch for Christmas. He had wanted one since he had seen the English Detective, Sherlock Holmes, pull one out of his watch pocket in the movie, The Hound of the Baskervilles. Chet was coming as Sherlock Holmes and his English Bulldog was going to accompany him as the famous detective’s side-kick…Dr. Watson. Of course the Christmas Pary…was a Costume Party…

Jane was excited as she stood by the door of the Assembly Hall just before the Party was to begin. She told Billy B., as he walked up, that Santa could not make it…as he was down with the flu. ‘What are we going to do, Jane asked? Chet winked and said, ‘We will improvise!’ So the fun began with the authentic English dinner and was finished with the Flaming Plum Pudding. Throughout the three-course meal, Billy B. had continued to pour his guests more of the wonderful punch. When the music began it was, ‘Santa Claus is coming to town,’ and indeed at that moment the large double doors swung open and in came the happiest Santa that anyone in the auditorium had ever seen… Walking in front of Santa Claus was Daryl’s Dad, The Wiz, as he led him to the great chair that had been provided for Bill Winters…before he became ill. In Mr. Claus’s entourage were 12 elves and 12 reindeer…who were doing a lot of snorting and pawing at the floor of the magnificent room. Santa called out to Chet, ‘Bring me a cup of your outstanding Christmas Punch…Chet!’ Chet gave him a 12-ounce tumbler full…and he brought the pitcher that had enough of Lanny’s fortified Punch…for 3 more refills…

Santa seemed to be feeling in the Christmas Spirit after his third tumbler full of Punch. He asked Chet what he wanted for Christmas and Chet replied…’Not a Red Rider BB Gun…but a pocket watch like Sherlock Holmes had in the movie’. Santa laughed and said…’Would you like a magical pocket watch?’ Chet said that he would be most pleased to own a magical pocket watch. Santa reached into his great red coat and pulled out a glistening gold pocket watch and handed it to Chet. Suddenly Chet awakened and saw that he was in his own comfortable bed and covered with a heavy quilt…and he had apparently dreamed the entire Christmas Party event…but a glistening gold pocket watch lay on his night-stand.

The walkers are out in Little Egypt. Abundant sunshine and cool and crisp autumn air is an excellent prescription for what ails you. We had the first freeze of the season, last night. Grass cutting will soon be over. We enjoyed Polar Whip double-loaded cheeseburgers for lunch accompanied by fried green beans. Polar Whip, in Herrin, Illinois, is 90 years old. As Samuel L. Jackson’s character said in the movie ‘Pulp Fiction’…they make a ‘Tasty Burger.’ Of course, a ‘Tasty Burger’ is what many of us are seeking.

A former boss of mine loved to pan for gold. He went out west and spent countless days engaged in the possibility of discovering small nuggets of the precious metal. About that same time, I purchased a Tom Clark Gnome of an ecstatic seeker of gold…with his head thrown back and a wide and open smile on his face…as he held his pan with gold in it…

Some of our richest fellow citizens are seeking the mystery of space. If you are very wealthy you could book passage on their rockets for a 12-minute ride…of a lifetime. We all are looking for something that we do not have…including the singer Jimmy Buffett…who is looking for his lost shaker of salt…

Dissatisfaction is part of our DNA. We want to see what we have not seen and hear what we have not heard…and become who we are not. Courage and purpose and a sense of place propelled us to leave England and seek a new home in the Americas. The story of Thanksgiving is the story of inclusion. and working together…for a bit… ‘In the fall of 1621, 90 Wampanoag Indians and 52 English colonists gathered for a three-day harvest feast. How did Americans get from that celebration to the Thanksgiving ‘traditions’ we observed today?’ The Christian Science Monitor

‘We as native people [traditionally] have thanksgiving as a daily, ongoing thing,’ says Linda Coombs, associate director of the Wampanoag program at Plimoth Plantation. ‘Every time anybody went hunting or fishing or picked a plant, they would offer a prayer or acknowledgment.’ But for the 52 colonist-who had experienced a year of disease, hunger, and diminishing hopes-their bountiful harvest was cause for a special celebration to give thanks.’ The Christian Science Monitor

Seeking is a part of our lifestyle…and has been ratcheted up by the uncertainty that surrounds us. Two years of our Pandemic has all of us on a knifes edge. and we have been sitting under the Sword of Damocles for the entire time. The January 6 Innsurection at our Capitol was disconcerting and a semi-permanent placement in the land of Conspiracy Theory. Last evening I was watching a newscast that there are a significant group of people who traveled to Dallas, Texas to await the resurrection of John Fitzgerald Kennedy Jr….who they believe will run with Donald Trump in the next election. Some of us are seeking bizarre places and fantastical fantasies…

Stories are immensely enjoyable and refreshing and enlightening. We live for stories. We toil and labor and sweat to provide a wonderful story for our kids and our loved ones…

‘Then, as they were afraid and bowed their faces to the earth, they said to them, ‘Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen! Remember how He spoke to you when He was still in Galilee, saying, ‘The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise again.’ Luke 24: 5-7. KJV

Chilly air feels especially cold…when you are not climatized to it. It is 50 degrees this afternoon and it feels like 46. Next month this will feel comfortable…but today it feels…cold. I have taken the Autumn Journey to Giant City State Park for almost every year of the past 20. Often I am somewhat disappointed with the lack of vibrant leaf color. This year I have been pleasantly surprised. I love the changing of the leaves…I love fall. I was born in the fall and my favorite holidays are in the fall… except for Christmas…but the Christmas Season is primarily in the fall… Cooler weather agrees with my demeanor. Autumn assures me that everything is possible…if I only believe…

Much of Illinois is flat land…but not Giant City…where the glaciers stopped and created the most lovely of hills and valleys. For nine years I was a member of a state-wide committee and my colleagues loved to have one of our quarterly meetings at Giant City. They said that the Park was the most picturesque part of our State. We would have our meeting in October and they would book the cabins on-site…and we would conduct our business in the Lodge as well as eat our meals. Giant City Lodge is featured in the movie, ‘Gone Girl,’ with Ben Affleck and Rosamund Pike. The Lodge has a wonderful all-you-can-eat chicken dinner on Sundays.

Time ticks by without interruption. At times we feel place-bound in our present circumstances…but we are constantly moving through our lives on earth. Nature provides us a glowing example of the changing of the seasons and the changing of our time. ‘Today is the tomorrow that we worried about yesterday.’

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‘Christmas is coming…the goose is getting fat…won’t you please put a penny in the old man’s hat. If you haven’t got a penny…a hay-penny will do…if you haven’t got a hay-penny…God Bless You.’ Mom sang this song to me all during the Christmas Season…and often when it was not the Season. The appearance of Christmas Trees in the stores…does not repel me…it gives me joy! Jonathon and I listened to a Christmas album by Norah Jones…she has a unique and lovely voice. I enjoy everything from the family dysfunction of the Chevy Chase Classic…Christmas Vacation…to the Christmas Moral of…Scrooge. Christmas is that time of year when those who are not usually warm to spreading joy and cheer…try to do so…anyway. It is a time when we notice the cold and the hungry and want to bring them in around the fireplace and feed them some pudding…

Let it be Christmas…all year…

Summer has ended according to the temperature. Tonight promises a low of 34 degrees and tomorrow’s low will be well below freezing. In our neck of the woods, it seems to get cold…overnight. I went to see my friend…Electric Larry…this afternoon. He has the most interesting old Pop and nostalgic items. I kept fingering and admiring some small alabaster pieces and thinking that they reminded me of something. They were in the nicest little wicker basket. After nearly an hour of shopping, it dawned on me that the tiny soldiers were chess pieces. MJ and I had a wonderful set of Turtle Doves made of alabaster when we first were married. We purchased them at Famous Barr and were so proud of their acquisition. They probably were $15 or $20 dollars in the 1970s…but they were fine art to us. So I left EL with a handsome wicker basket of Alabaster Aztec Chess Pieces. Now they will soon have a field of battle with the hand-tooled leather chessboard that I just completed purchasing from Etsy.

Happiness is elusive. It always has been. Our Declaration of Independence promises us the right to pursue happiness…it does not assure us that we will catch the energetic elf… At times we are a bit too wrapped up in the pursuit of ‘My Precious’ as the literary character, Gollum, from The Lord of the Rings. ..as he sought the powerful ring. So it is with our time and place. We know if we eat the best foods and wear the finest of clothes and take the best holidays…we will find our hiding friend of happiness. If we are unhappy with ourselves…we travel as a panacea to find our happy personas. We have a good job…but we know that we would be happy…if we could just receive a promotion. If we have the automobile that we always wanted…soon our eyes are full of the next step-up in driving pleasure.

Why would anyone want to be the President of the United States? I wonder if this question has not occurred to each of the men who have held the office… Television has assured us…for my entire life…that to be happy you need to buy the right soap…use the right deodorant…drink the right soft drink…and of late we know that we would feel much happier if we just could convince our doctor to give us the right pharmaceutical.

People make me happy. A smile from another human being…warms my heart. Genuine concern for my well-being…brings laughter and lightness off being… But…what makes me happy without fail…is to help someone. Not to assess their needs on a scale of 1 to 10…but to reach out a hand of fellowship to those who have not felt any kindness…in a long time… When I hear the testimonials of children who are suffering from cancer…and I witness their courage…I wonder as the parking attendant asked me in the garage in Philedelphia, ‘What you crying about…Mon?’

Billy B. woke up in his nice warm bed with the two quilts that his Grandma Askew had made for him…and remembered the glories and scares of Halloween…the night before. He looked over at his plastic orange pumpkin that contained all of his candy and popcorn ball treasures from the revelries of All Saints Day.

Why three houses had even given him a dollar…and the house at the end of Illinois Avenue had given him a five-dollar bill… Billy B. had only carried a five-dollar bill on a few occasions and he remembered the last one…when he and his mom had accompanied his cousin, Brenda, to see her fiance, Danny, at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. Brenda and Danny were sweethearts and Billy B. thought that the Sun rose and set in Brenda’s smile. She had been his babysitter on Friday nights when his mom had gone out with a boyfriend to the Honky Tonk..and drank Slo-Gin Fizzes. They had enjoyed the Science Fiction Theatre on television. So, Billy B. went to the Ben Franklin Dime Store at Fort Leonard Wood and purchased a Blackbeard Model. He loved Monster Models and he thought that Edward Teach would be a welcome addition to his growing collection.

Monday morning…felt like Sunday to Billy B… The telephone rang and it was Chet on the line. ‘Are you ready for the big night,’ Chet asked? ‘Well…did you forget that we already had it,’ Billy inquired? Chet replied, ‘Not yet…this is Sunday, October the 31st…and it is time to party!’ Billy B. shook himself to wake up from a bizarre dream…but he was still talking to Chet. ‘Chet…do you recall that we canvased all of Illinois Avenue and that the house at the end of the street gave you and I and Jane and Sally and Daryl…a five-dollar bill…each?’ ‘Yes I do say Chet…and then the old woman asked us to come in and sit a spell…and warm ourselves from the cold…and we did.’ ‘I remember her bringing out a large hourglass and placing it on the coffee table in front of us,’ said Billy B. ‘Do you recall that we all became very sleepy…and the old woman said that little devils like us should be able to enjoy Halloween…always,’ asked Chet?

Crisp…and cold would best describe Sunday, October 31, 1963. The Vietnam War was preparing to become a war of devastation for Vietnam…and the United States. President Kennedy would be cut down by an assassin’s bullet in less than a month. Billy B. and his fellow grade-school classmates were accustomed to practicing, ‘Duck And Cover…as the possibility of a nuclear strike on Eldorado, Illinois could happen at any time. A sad Thanksgiving came in November 1963… Uncertainty and unimaginable loss and a future that looked dark and foreboding…was what was happening in ‘Real-Time.’

Billy B. and Chet and Jane and Sally and Daryl…set about planning their Halloween…1963…it was much less frightening…than what was to come…

So, October is in its last 2 and 1/2 hours. It has been good…and it has gone by fast. I began the month meeting two icons of my youth, Jerry Mathers and Tony Dow, Beaver and Wally Cleaver from the television show…Leave It To Beaver. The leaves have finally realized some brilliant color…and the next two months will go more quickly than the last two…if that is possible. Twenty-Twenty One has rushed by with the rapidity of a Weaver’s Shuttle. I have the Covid 19 vaccination and the Pfizer Booster shot…and still do not feel safe from the plague of our time. Our Pandemic has dominated our attention and resources…and lives…for two years. We have yet to witness or understand the permanent changes that this scourge has wrought.

New Normal is vital to our mental health and our survival as a species. The Holiday Season is upon us and we need all of its gifts. The grateful heart of Thanksgiving is less than a month away. MJ is in the middle of planning our Thanksgiving feast and the gathering of our family…that she has been hosting for over 30 years. She loves Thanksgiving! Over our 43 years together our family has enjoyed some wonderful Thanksgiving holidays. Contrary to the days when I was a child and the Thanksgiving holiday was watching the Macys Day Parade on TV. The rest of the day was devoted to planning for Christmas. On Thanksgiving, we gather from our many walks in life and realize that we are much more alike than we are different. We soak up the love from those we are with. We feel the warmth of our shared experiences and know that we really are on the same journey…

This morning at church we had a wonderful woman teach us some deep breathing techniques and some tools for meditation. As she spoke in a soothing and kind manner I thought that we really do often miss the forest for the trees. We live in an ultra-stressful world with mega demands on our time and our talents and our thoughts. We fail to take time for our own physical and mental and emotional needs. We seem to not have the bit of time that we need…to breathe properly. Our stomachs hurt from nervous stress. We have headaches from overloading our brains to continue to perform on the Hamster Wheel of life… We regularly endeavor to change many things that we have no power to change.

Christmas Trees are in order…from now forward… Focus on all that makes our lives bright and cheerful and magical and mystical…should be thought about daily…every day. ‘As a man thinketh…so is he.’ Our thoughts do make a difference in how we perceive the world and how we construct our reality. Our church, First Presbyterian Church, captivated my attention when I saw how well they did Christmas. We began attending near Thanksgiving in 1998. Shortly after that…was Advent and the trimming of the Christmas Tree in the narthex…as soon as I discovered what the narthex was… We attended a Christmas Eve service that began at 11:00P:M:…and concluded at midnight. I swore that I saw Tiny Tim…and Bob Cratchitt.

The observance is magic. Tradition is renewing and recharging and good for the weary soul. We are a bit like the new electric automobiles…we have to re-charge…at points along our journey back home…

Chet had been planning ever since last Halloween…the most spectacular event that he or Billy B. or anyone had ever taken part in! He was going to perform his famous disappearing act right in front of Jane and Sally and Jeff C. and Daryl. He had sent away for the magic trick from Universal Studios and it promised complete satisfaction…or your money back. He had practiced it in front of his action figures of; Daniel Boone and GI Joe. His mom, Thelma, had also witnessed it and promptly responded that she knew how he did it… Everyone was coming to his house in Parrish Addition at six P:M:. His mom was preparing hot dogs…that was really hot…and her homemade apple cider.

Billy B. decided that he would attend Chet’s soiree as the Invisible Man…as a challenge to Chet’s disappearing performance. He considered that if Chet’s disappearance was lame…he would be a good alternative as the H.G. Wells literary character. On this date in 1938 had been the famous radio broadcast of Orson Wells adaptation of the War of the Worlds. The dramatic radio program had so frightened its listeners that many believed that it was really happening and that the Earth was being invaded by Martians. The fear was so great that Orson had to publically apologize for the broadcast and the fear that it widely engendered. Billy B.’s mom said that she had heard the radio show as a girl and that she not only had never forgotten it…but that she still wondered if it might have been true…

Daryl had been secretly assisting Chet with his disappearing act. He was going to bring his magician’s cape and black top hat for Chet to wear…and he assured him that with his practice and the real magician’s garments…he would be a success beyond his wildest imaginations. The local radio station was set to play the original tape of Orson’s performance just before Chet took the stage in his living room for his gathered audience. Neva Jane was going to accompany Billy B. to hear her childhood radio fantasy…25 years after it had first aired.

As the hallway Grandfather Clock struck 6…the War of the Worlds began… Thelma was passing out the hot dogs and the apple cider. Neva J. said that the program was as scary as it was when she first heard it…and that it gave her…goose pimples… Billy B. had to unwrap the bandages that encircled his head in order to eat the hot dogs and drink the cider. Jane and Sally were dressed like Martians in commemoration of the 25th anniversary of the infamous program. At the conclusion of the narration of disaster and destruction for the earth and its inhabitants…Daryl whispered to Chet, ‘You’re On!’ Chet stood on the stage and began to explain how he was going to disappear before their very eyes…and he did…without fanfare…he was gone…in mid-sentence… Jeff C. asked Thelma for another hot dog and just a dash more apple cider. Daryl announced for everyone to fix their gaze at the back of the living room…but Chet was not there… Suddenly there was a loud exploding just outside the front door of Chet’s house. When Billy B. opened the door..there was Chet…but he was green and had an antenna protruding out of his head…and he had an eerie glow…

‘Come with me…quick…we have to get on the last ship…the next laser beam is aimed at my house,’ said Chet…

The rain prevented my daily Campus walk…so I walked in our mall. I was amazed at how many storefronts are now shuttered. A wonderful coffee establishment, Gloria Jeans, is now gone. MJ and I were discussing Christmas shopping and wondered where we could possibly shop in Carbondale. The face of retail is changing rapidly. I remember our mall when it opened in the 1970s. I had not experienced a more unique manner in which to do my shopping…than the mall. It was a town square under one roof. If you were hungry there were a plethora of choices of eating emporiums. There was a multiplex Theatre. The halls were so full of people that you could barely walk. During the holiday season, the parking lots had every space filled…and police directing traffic. We purchased our wedding rings at one of several jewelry stores. I simply enjoyed spending time at the University Mall…as it was buzzing with excitement and the hustle and bustle of modern society.

I wrote a blog yesterday entitled, Lost, and I thought a bit further regarding what is an antidote for each of us when we are lost… Seldom have I ever felt found in my quandry…as when another human is kind to me. Contained in being lost…is the feeling of being alone. Poor people who commit suicide feel terribly…alone. Often a kind word from a fellow traveler through this hilly and rocky journey…can pull back the clouds of gloom and despair…and reveal the brightness of the Sun..

When we meet another person…we look into their eyes…to determine if they are understanding…and kind. Kindness is someting that you can not fake. Kindness is something that you feel. Have you ever had a bad day. The kind of day that you felt completly alone. Everything seemed to be going against you…and it felt like God was taking a nap? During your lost condition you randomly encounter a kind person…perhaps it is a cashier at Wal-Mart. The lovely person exclaims, ‘It is good to see you…it has been awhile…how have you been?’ You think to yourself that no one is paying this woman to be nice to me…she is simply a kind person…and suddenly…God woke up…

So often we search for the big ideas. We seek to hit a home run…when a base hit is what is in order. The simpliest of kind gestures…make the difference…and provide a compass for those of us who are lost.

Emotions are magnified in media. We look for indescribale love…and rabid hate. Many relationships wither beause the mental expectations cloud the daily examples of love and kindness that people have for each other. Politics has devolved into a hate fest of destroying your opponent…when cordial disagreement and compromise with out rancor is what is called for.

People throughout my life who have shown me kindness and assisted me to stay on the path of a happy life…have often done so by a, ‘A word fitly spoken.’ It is not the multitude of gestures…it is the real and the genuine gestures to help our brothers and sisters…it really is the little things that make a difference…