Restoration

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May 29, 2026- All that is meant to be, will withstand any efforts to obliterate it. In 1921, when ‘Abdu’l-Baha passed away, His grandson, Shoghi Effendi Rabbani, succeeded Him as Head of the Baha’i Faith, in the office of Guardian. Shoghi Effendi inherited his grandfather’s house, in Haifa, whilst his grand-uncle, who was not a follower of Baha’ullah, occupied the Mansion of Baha’ullah, in Bahji, north of Akka. That uncle, Mohammad Ali, also seized the keys to the Shrine (Burial Place) of Baha’ullah, holding them for a year, until the British administrators of Palestine took the keys back and gave them to Shoghi Effendi. This was in 1923. For six more years, his grand-uncle continued to live in the Mansion, and let it decay. By 1929, the Mansion had fallen into such a state of disrepair, that Mohammad Ali asked his grand-nephew to oversee repairs. This, Shoghi Effendi did, and he invited the British High Commissioner to inspect the renovated house and its surrounding gardens. The High Commissioner approved the repairs, and further, gave Shoghi Effendi title to the property, saying that it rightfully belonged to the Baha’i Faith, and not to apostate family members.

Today marks the 134th Anniversary of the Ascension of Baha’ullah. The Shrine of Baha’ullah, the Mansion and the magnificent gardens that surround it are cornerstones of any Baha’i Pilgrimage. They are also UNESCO World Heritage Sites and are open, gratis, to the public-as are the Shrines of al-Bab and of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, and their equally magnificent gardens, in Haifa.

All that is meant to be, will withstand any efforts to obliterate it.

“A Space of Quiet Promise”

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May 28, 2026- I am now halfway through my diamond year. Much has changed, since my 75th birthday, and much, at least inside me, has remained the same.

I have left a mountain community, with many acts of service in the course of a week. There was also much in the way of natural beauty, in which I could become refreshed, even at the risk of encountering an apex predator. I left a solid community of friends, of all Faiths, though a good many of my interactions were with my fellow Baha’is; Friends were also from all points on the political spectrum; as apt to be women as men; many were older than 60, and many were younger. I finally mastered the art of teaching, just in time to retire.

I came to a place of quiet promise. (The phrase is borrowed from blogger Cynthia Ward’s essay, “Who I Used To Be”.)* I left a one-bedroom apartment and came into a two-story house, with three bedrooms and two offices that could convert to bedrooms. The kitchen and living room, alone, are the size of what I left behind. I came to live with family, as an active contributor, rather than as a dependent. My educational skills now go towards the development of my infant granddaughter. My Red Cross volunteering is strictly on weekends, and my Baha’i activities are on evenings and weekends. I have not changed my American Legion post, as yet. There is no activity at the nearest post, save gatherings centered on drinking and smoking, neither of which interest me, nor would they suit my coming home to a nursing mother and a little girl. As time goes on, Slow Food Dallas-Fort Worth could draw me into its activities.

Health-wise, I have found a fine, competent VA doctor, dentist and chiropractor. I go to a Planet Fitness, about ten minutes from here. There are plenty of parks nearby and several safe neighbourhoods in which to walk, day or night. I can still do a plank for 1 1/2-2 minutes. I can still walk 3-5 miles. (It’s mostly flat here, but the humidity makes up for the lack of elevation changes).

I have several bounties here: A loving son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter; a large and supportive Baha’i community; a quiet neighbourhood connected with the outside world by well-ordered streets and roads; and, for the next few months at least, a reliable supply network for what we need. This house, this community, are places of quiet promise.

  • “Who I Used to Be”, Still Amazed, Cynthia Ward May 25,2026

In Memoriam

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May 25,2026- When I was a child, each Memorial Day was spent visiting the graves of both of my grandfathers and, starting in 1961, that of my maternal grandmother. Helping my parents place flowers at the sites was taught to us as a form of respect, and more importantly, of gratitude for the love that the departed elders had given my parents and, in Grama’s case, to us. I would, in time, do the same at my wife’s gravesite on Memorial Day weekend. On visits to Saugus, I would pay my respects at the grave of my parents and youngest brother, stopping at my grandparents’ and godparents’ tombs, along with those of a childhood friend or two.

This year was the first time in many years that I was not at a cemetery at any time on Memorial Day weekend. My honouring of my ancestors, and of Penny, came in the form of what I’ve done each day since January 2-spending quality time with my children and grandchild. I took care of Hana, so that her parents could pick up a playpen. She crawled intently, as she is now given to doing, and is lifting her torso off the ground, as she engages hands and knees. She is slowly demonstrating more confidence.

I see Penny in her granddaughter, who is also her namesake. Hana Penny will answer back, when she understands a request and doesn’t agree with it. She pushes herself quite hard and needs to be persuaded to take a rest. She has a winning smile and infectious laugh, along with a quick temper. She has a laser focus.and wants to examine something thoroughly, once it gets her attention.

The departed souls never really leave us-and I’m sure that the idiom “present in spirit” is more real than many imagine. Indeed, a few times, we have observed Hana looking up towards the ceiling, smiling and laughing at whatever, or whoever, she sees up there.

May all the departed rest in paradise.

Loyalty

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May 20,2026- My granddaughter kissed me on the shoulder, when I picked her up from the crib, after her first nap, this morning. She will roll over to get next to me, when I lower myself to her crawling area. She holds onto my shirt, when I am rocking her, at the end of a play period. A baby is motivated by survival instinct, and gravitates to the person(s) who show her/him the most consistent positive attention. That is the beginning of loyalty.

My own loyalties are very specifically ordered: Family, Faith, Friends, Humanity, Planet Earth. I am loyal to government when it treats the common people with love and respect. My loyalty to the Human Race requires standing up, when there is a widespread disregard for dignity and worth-no matter the source of that disdain. Furthermore, I see no conflict between standing up for my family and standing up for the planet. My family’s survival needs a healthy environment. I don’t want my granddaughter, or anyone else, ingesting a host of microplastics or breathing in Diesel fumes, generated by someone who is angry at Elon Musk, or at the environmental movement.

I am loyal to the Baha’i Faith. That also means that I show reverence and respect towards all creeds that are based on the Golden Mean. All knowledge comes from the Divine, else it is contrived, and is not true knowledge at all. We have never been left alone, nor will we ever be.

I am loyal to my friends, no matter how long it has been since we’ve seen one another or how often we may communicate. Many are overwhelmed by life and have both my daily blessings and constant thought. My loyalty should never be measured by how much money I spend on a person. I have a few in my circle, who are transactional. The only time I hear from them is when they are short on cash. I occasionally help one family with the basics, but generally speaking, I prefer my charity to be that which helps larger groups of people.

My loyalty to Humanity reflects a conviction that “all means all.” I don’t make a distinction between “rightwingers” and “leftwingers”, Christians and Muslims, citizens of one country as opposed to those of another. My only guidepost is to be discerning, as to the basic human rights of a given person. Even a tyrant has inherent dignity. If he/she chooses to squander that dignity, that is not a choice made by me. I will not harm anyone, but neither will I allow them to harm me or anyone close to me.

My loyalty to Earth lies in being as responsible a steward of what is in front of me and of the planet as a whole. Minimal trash, maximum recycling, regular maintenance and proper use of my motor vehicle, respect and kindness towards all life forms, to the greatest extent possible, conservation of resources-all these add up, when practiced regularly.

Loyalty begins with self-respect and is reflected outwards.

Worlds Within A World, Part V

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May 18, 2026- Mom once said, a boy becomes a man at forty. In my case, it was more like sixty-five.

As my son left for Navy Basic Training, at Great Lakes, north of Chicago, I determined that I would set out for parts unknown. I found that I had a flat tire, so that impulse faded and I went back to the Phoenix house. Two weeks later, I packed what I needed and drove to the family house in Prescott. I spent a few days, then went back and gave away five extended cab pickup loads to Goodwill. My auto body mechanic, Bill, all 6’9″ of him, hauled the stuff away, for $300 and my rocking chair. I loaded a few more boxes with me to take to Prescott, but before I closed up the Phoenix house and drove off, the place had one last hook to sink into me: When I turned off the washing machine faucets, the cold water valve broke. I managed to get to the shutoff bib, before too much water had leaked, but there was drywall that needed replacing, as well as the valve. I bartered with my landscaper, who lived down the street and was willing to do the work: The washer and dryer, a freezer and $200 worth of tools. I left the house keys with him and drove on up to Prescott.

Prescott world (2011-25) was the longest I lived in any one town since Saugus. I would go back and forth to Phoenix, until the sale closed, in 2013, but how I recovered and where, was all on me. I took to the road, a fair number of times, going back to the East Coast at least once a year, often twice. California, Nevada and the Pacific Northwest became regular haunts. I managed to re-visit every state, except Montana and North Dakota, plus several parts of Canada. The Philippines nearly became a second home, and I returned to South Korea for the wedding of Aram and Yunhee. I made it to Europe twice, visiting sixteen countries. Any one of those places could feel like home, and there were parts that did. Prescott, and Arizona, were always a delight to which to return. I devoted myself to hikes, both long and short, as well as soaking up the history of the Grand Canyon State.

Community service filled my days: Paid service in the form of substitute teaching and sweat equity, in Baha’i activities, at the Farmers Market, the Red Cross, Solid Rock’s soup kitchen, various events held by Slow Food- Prescott and a few activities of the American Legion. I paid back all the kindness that the town and surrounding area had shown us in 1992 and 2000-01. Most important, though, was that I regained the self-respect that had been bled from me, during the long period in the desert. I stood up to grifters and thugs, at least five times, during my time in Prescott, acquiring more stamina in the process.

I bid farewell to my mother, both of my in-laws and a fair number of extended family and friends, during this time. Each one gone, though, just made a place in my heart-so that it got bigger. I fell in love again, and might have even sought to re-marry, but for the birth of my beloved granddaughter. This event put an end to Prescott world and opened yet another phase. Plano world began on New Year’s Day.

Worlds Within A World, Part III

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May 16, 2026– As Penny and I settled into our temporary digs, in Osan, South Korea, the most compelling concern our American host had was that we not cross the chopsticks. It turned out to not be a problem for either of us-we knew how to use the implements already, having dined in several Chinese and Thai establishments in Arizona. There were aspects of Korean society that took more adjusting, but I learned to put the group first, to master the art of saving the face of anyone with whom I might be in conflict and to properly bow, in greeting a social equal or a superior. I adored the music, both traditional and pop, the eagerness to learn of my students, and the reverence for nature shown by most Koreans.

Most of our Korea years (1986-92) were spent on the holiday island of Jeju, a four season paradise, which had yet to attract the intensive Chinese and Japanese investment that has led to overdevelopment in the southern and north central parts of the island. It was another place that, in retrospect, was a five-year blessing. We were each Visiting Professors of conversational English, and taught our students in a holistic manner, linking speaking with reading and writing in our native tongue. We came to learn “market” Korean and to be able to read words written in Hangul. Our son was born there, and was blessed with a lifelong love of the country and its people.We spent a fair amount of time in Seoul, Daegu and Busan, as well, and before I left, I made a bus trip around the periphery of the country. We visited the island of Taiwan, also, establishing heart connections with both Han Chinese and Native Taiwanese people, while teaching the Baha’i Faith and engaging in community service. There are people in both countries who, while I am unlikely to see them again, will be deep in my heart always.

Baha’ullah admonishes His followers to choose honouring our parents over even direct service to His Cause. In January, 1992, Penny’s parents made it clear that they were hurting, both physically and emotionally, from not seeing their only grandson but once a year. So, we moved back to Arizona, where they lived in Prescott, six months of the year and in Bedminster, NJ, the rest of the time. We spent six months in Prescott, and I each worked as a substitute teacher, while Penny remained home with our toddler son. “Home”, during this time, ranged from a motel room to a townhouse. I admit to having been a bit shaky, emotionally, going from a high status position, where I was revered by many, to starting from scratch, as a temporary instructor. This was saved by a return to the Navajo and Hopi Nations (1992-99).

I was again a counselor, and Penny taught Second Grade for two years, then became a literacy specialist, using the Collaborative Literacy Intervention Program (CLIP). During this time, I was elevated by my second building principal, herself a seasoned counselor, to providing a holistic counseling program that included vocational and leisure time skills, as well as psychological and emotional counseling. I also completed my school administration credential, and in 1998, left Jeddito, where we had become settled, to try my hand at running a Navajo Community School. I had become a strong presence in the lives of many students in the Cedar Unified School District, and helped save a few lives. Ambition became a trap, though, and I learned. once again, in my year at Chilchinbeto, that there are people working in a school and living in the community, for whom the actual well-being of children is a secondary concern, at best. By the spring of 1999, Penny was starting to show signs of physical and cognitive decline, I was let go by the Governing Board at Chilchinbeto, and we found ourselves in the small desert town of Salome. As with Tuba City and Jeju, there are people in Jeddito and the Hopi Mesas who I will cherish.always, even if I don’t see them again.

Worlds Within A World, Part II

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May 15,2026- From the Saugus world, I got a work ethic, respect for family and tradition, a sense of place. From the Army world, I got self-discipline and awareness that people everywhere are more alike than different. From the College world, I got respect for my female peers and a sense of personal independence. From the Maine world, I got the joy of making it through a few harsh winters, and savouring delightful summers, yet I also came to the realization that not all who work with children have their best interests at heart.

After Maine came the Arizona Central Corridor world (1978-1981)-which brought me first to a private boarding school in Eloy, then to Northern Arizona University, Flagstaff. During this time, I made peace with Mathematics, for many years my bugbear, and for two years at the Villa School, my livelihood. I know that, out of my own struggles, there came an affinity with those in my classes who were having a hard time with the concepts. It made me a credible teacher. I came to see troubled teens as worthy of respect. It made me a better human being. I came to see, and know, the majesty of Arizona, and made the acquaintance of the Pacific coast, as far north as Portland and as far south as Guaymas. I went across country, by bus or by thumb, three times.

The Flagstaff years brought the first real sea change in my life-realizing that my globalist self had counterparts in the Baha’i Faith, which I adopted as my own, early in 1981.I met the woman I would marry, waited out her sorting of her life and tossed aside a major obstacle in mine-saying goodbye to alcoholic beverages. I lost a few friends, but made hundreds more-and found myself oriented towards our country’s First Nations.

The firt Navajo-Hopi world (1981-86) put my newly acquired Masters Degree, in Education (Counseling), to full use. Tuba City, on the western edge of Arizona’s Painted Desert, struck me as close to being a Third World place. There were, at the time, a couple of trading posts and several small cafes. While I was there, a grocery store and small mini mall opened up. The small cafes gave way to well-appointed restaurants. I married Penny, we went on Pilgrimage to Israel and the West Bank, getting a fine guided tour of Jerusalem, the Jordan Valley and the Galilee from a retired IDF officer. We spent nine days total in the Holy Land, six of these in Haifa and Akka, There may never be such a consecrated time as this again in my life, but it gave me a foundation to go forward. We would stop in London, for three days, afterward, and I would have the bounty of speaking before people of whom I was in awe. We also would attend a Council Fire of First Nations, in Alberta, teach the Baha’i Faith in Houston, in Guyana and on the Omaha and Pine Ridge Reservations, as well as keeping the home fires burning on the Navajo and Hopi Nations. We buried a good friend in Tuba City and we buried my father, a year after he and Mom had visited us and toured Arizona.

A phone call, in the early morning hours, in January, 1986, was the inception of Korea world (1986-92) That, and the second Navajo-Hopi world (1992-98) will make up Part III..

The Beauty of the Lilies

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May 10, 2026- There was a plenitude of delicious, healthful food at DiMatte’s Mediterranean Buffet, as we celebrate Yunhee’s first Mother’s Day. Hana is still a bit unready for solid food, but she was happy about us going to a large, clean and relatively quiet eatery. She likes people, but doesn’t like excessive noise or heat, which unfortunately are features of many food courts. Besides, this is the first of two special days honouring her parents. Today, and Father’s Day, next month, are on me.

Hana’s understanding of such things is, of course not certain, but probably limited to knowing that her father and I made a fuss over her mother-so she was even more affectionate than usual, towards Yunhee. It was a fine, if low key day, and my daughter-in-law got to do what she likes best, tidying up the common rooms downstairs, and making a nicer play area for her little girl.

In November, 1861, Julia Ward Howe wrote “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”, to the tune of “John Brown’s Body”, as a means of lifting the spirits of those fighting for the Union cause in the American Civil War. After that conflict had ended, she was first impelled to organize the national observance of Mother’s Day, in 1867, Following the calamitous Franco-Prussian War, in 1870-71, Ms. Ward-Howe called for an international observance of Mother’s Day, in the hopes of generating a global movement of women for peace. The opening lines of the fifth verse of the anthem are intended to sanctify the giving of lives: “In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me.
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,[16]
While God is marching on.” It seldom has worked out that way.

Mothers have never, in their hearts of hearts, desired to see their children slaughtered for the sake of someone else’s agenda. Patriotism mitigates the expression of anti-war sentiments, when it is understood that liberty is threatened by an aggressive enemy, but I recall my mother’s grief when I told her I was headed to Viet Nam, in 1971. I told her at the last minute, as she and my father were saying goodbye at the airport. In the ten months I was there, I handled accountable mail and helped unload bulk mail trucks, but I never faced any real danger from the Viet Cong. There were too many, including two childhood friends, who were not so lucky.

As I write this, the cover page on my laptop shows a setting Sun, still casting an amber glow in the surrounding sky and on the ocean below. I get an odd comfort from this, and feel the strength and love of my mother, my late wife and all my female friends and relatives who have passed on I feel the ongoing love of those nurturing women who are still very much alive-and who tend to the children, animals and the sick who are in their care,

In whatever capacity you nurture, I hope your Mother’s Day has brought honour and solace.

Magical Thinking

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May 7, 2026- Hana pushes herself to reach certain places on her crawling mat, but was showing a bit of frustration at being limited to the same route, day after day. It was time for another segment, so down went the multi-modal quilt, with its alphabet, colour bar, shapes and illustrations of animals and objects. This doubled the area that she has to navigate, and she took to it right away.

My granddaughter had been acting as if she should be able to go through walls or pieces of furniture, getting frustrated at this also, so Papa has the task of gently encouraging her to turn, when confronted with a barrier. I even showed her that my almighty self can’t go through a wall, which she found amusing, while getting the point.

Many of the old stories I am reading her now, European fairy tales, present magical solutions to harrowing scenes. I choose to focus more on the character-building elements that are embedded in the tales, rather than the amazing feats of derring do. It only touches a slight level of her consciousness, of course, but I can recall, from my own toddlerhood, having a sense that I had heard stories that pointed the way to correctness, even earlier in my life. So, we go down this path together, She will retain what sticks in her mind and re-learn the rest later.

Much magical thinking comes from being used to having certain things happen almost instantaneously- like fast food being prepared and served in minutes, or AI popping up with answers to questions, in mere seconds. Another friend, examining the matter, points out that experiencing something, even several times, does not mean that it will be integrated with one’s psyche or behavioural repertoire. “I spent a week in Sweden” hardly qualifies me to claim any more than cursory knowledge of the country and its people. “I changed the spark plugs in my Ford LTD, back in 1975”, does not make me anywhere near a skilled auto mechanic. It is integration, not encountering, that determines the level of any change one wishes to see in life.

There is also a larger process at work, sometimes called “the arc of history” and in other forums, “the Major Plan of God”. We on the ground can only understand a smidgen of it, but here’s the thing: Just as a motor vehicle can go either forward or in reverse, it moves most efficiently forward. Reverse is meant only for short distances, like backing out of a parking space, or going a few yards back to where a loved one is waiting to communicate a last-minute thought. Going backwards in society can only be temporary, mostly to correct errors made in moving ahead too quickly. It cannot be done with a view towards reinstating the “Golden Days of Yesteryear”.

I will have more to say about this in an upcoming post.

His Declaration

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April 29, 2026- On the ninth day after His and His family’s arrival in the Garden of Ridvan, Baha’ullah summoned His eldest son, Abbas*, into His tent. There, He announced to His son that He was the Promised One, mentioned by His immediate Predecessor, Ali Muhammad, known to posterity as al-Bab (“The Gate”). Baha’ullah would make the same announcement to four other people, later that same evening, under a promise of confidentiality. This was due to the tight surveillance imposed by their Ottoman overseers and to the presence of operatives of the Persian Qajar Dynasty, which had initiated the exile of Baha’ullah and His family from Teheran, some ten years previous.

Baha’ullah, like the Great Teachers Who came before Him, intended His Teachings to redound to the benefit of all humankind. Coming as He did on the cusp of global connectivity and accelerated communication technology, His words can have an enormous impact-for the betterment of the world. Indeed, studied carefully, without coercion, the Teachings of Baha’ullah can lead to a greater understanding of the forces of change that have been extant in the world since the middle of the 19th Century and which are accelerating today, even as many of the institutions that have underpinned both Western and Eastern civilizations,for nearly 500 years, are fading away.

It is a given, that when one system draws to an end, another rises to take its place. This does not have to be frightening or debilitating. Rather, careful study of Scriptures, both past and contemporary, can offer solace that the Age in which we live is a period of birthing. There is no one who needs to be left out or excluded, in the civilization that is slowly rising, even as many time-honoured institutions are falling away.

Take your time with understanding all of this, and hang on-the world needs you.

  • Known to posterity as ‘Abdu’l-Baha