One Heart’s Fortune


November 30, 2018, Prescott-

This evening, with a fairly peaceful week of work behind me, and a resolution to the dilemma, that I described in the last post, having been put into motion, I attended the opening night of a play, “Hannah’s Heart”, about a 10-year-old girl in Depression-era Prescott, her family, and two benefactors.

Like many families in the 1930’s, the Meadows’ were a brood led by a swaggering father, who was, ironically, recovering from an injury, and a stoic mother, focused on what she could do to make up for the loss of her husband’s productivity.  The ebb in their fortunes led to older daughter Hannah Grace, stepping up to make tree ornaments, by the sale of which she could provide gifts for her family.

The flow that this effort provided helped reverse the family’s low fortune, at least temporarily.  She was aided in her work by two angelic figures, an elderly woman who lived alone and who was befriended by the Meadows’ and a robust man from Texas, who took on the work, around the family farm, that Mr. Meadows was unable to do.  Both of them mentored Hannah, encouraging her to follow her heart.

I enjoy this sort of down-to-earth, human interest story.  It mirrors the many tales I’ve heard over the years, from both sides of my large extended family, as well as from my departed in-laws.  The format of the play has an elderly Hannah Grace, in the present day, telling her Millennial granddaughter about the events of that long-ago Christmas.  It behooves all present-day youth to learn what they can of that time in history, from those who lived it if possible, so as to be better able to handle similar situations, which could very well arise, in their own lifetimes.


Peace and Love Award


April 7, 2018, Prescott-


Although I don’t do awards, I will thank those who award me and answer their questions, on this site.  Thanks to-, for this nomination.  I am not good at hyperlinking, but do visit Patrick’s Stories.


What is your earliest childhood memory ?

I was two, and my sister, then an infant, was crying in our shared crib.

What is your favorite social media site?

This one (WordPress)

Where would you spend your Christmas, if you have a million dollar offer from BILL GATES ?(funny)


What is your best musical instrument?

None, actually.  I am a tiny bit okay, playing a flute.

What is your favourite cartoon?(weird)


Peter Rabbit’s House


April 7, 2017, Prescott- 

There they were, the day before  the  first demon came,

living in beautiful anticipation

of the joy that is equal parts sacred and secular.

On the day before the first demon came,

a little boy took his father’s hand

and went to call, at Peter Rabbit’s House.

There was where they both went to dream.

On the day that the first demon came,

young friends mused, about just how

amazing that Christmas would be.

On the day the first demon came,

a grandfather started his day,

sitting in his own house of dreams,

and looked out on the school,

across the street.

Then the first demon came,

the little dreamers fell,

along with some

of their protectors.

The first demon died,

of his own hand.

Some other little dreamers

ran to the grandfather,

who took them in,

on the day the first demon came.

Other demons came,

in his wake,

threatening the grandfather,

and the families,

of the fallen little dreamers.

They always come in packs,

these demons,

even though they claim

to not know one another.

We, though, know who they are.

We, who love our little dreamers,

will stand for them,

and the packs of demons,

will fall by the wayside,

far from Peter Rabbit’s House.

( This is inspired by viewing the film, “Newtown”)


Oh, The Whiteness!


December 24, 2016, Prescott- I drove down to Phoenix, early this morning, for a day at Grand Canyon Baha’i Conference. It’s so -named because of being located in the Grand Canyon State, every year, around Christmas.  As many of you know, we Baha’is do not observe Christmas, per se, so this event gives a festive air for those,especially Persian refugees, who have no Christmas traditions of their own.  Nonetheless, we do wish Christians a Merry Christmas, and greatly appreciate the joy of this season.

A memorable presentation, this morning, dealt with the common patterns which are found throughout the Universe, and within living things.  Swirls, circles, triangles, hearts and star shapes are among the more common patterns.  It’s ever-fascinating to observe both these patterns and those which remind us of common daily features (Horsehead Nebula, for example), in many parts of our world, and in the Universe-at- large.

After a couple of other sessions, in the afternoon, and an evening of thoughtful musical presentations, about the need for finding common ground, while standing firm in our values, I realized that it would be essential for me to head back up here, as the snow, while not preventing my drive home, would be a nuisance for my neighbours in the complex, who are not physically able to shovel out.

I made it back up, in about 2 1/2 hours.  There were no road delays, but when I got to my street, I found it hadn’t been plowed yet. It took some pushing from three kind men, a bit of maneuvering back and forth and a helpful policeman, standing watch for any oncoming traffic, but I got my car parked in a temporary spot on the street.  My emergency permit lasts until 10 A.M., tomorrow, so I will need to get up early and shovel like crazy.

Here’s what we face, on our first white Christmas in years.


Merry Christmas, everyone!


No Abyss Needed


December 20, 2016, Prescott-

Today was either a day of mourning,

if one sees oppression and catastrophe ahead;

a day of rejoicing, if one sees opportunity to prosper,

or to return to old ways of looking at the world;

or, as it was for me, a day when the imperative,

of seeing one’s perceived adversaries as like unto

oneself, has become manifest.

In a few short days, I will bid farewell

to another old soldier,

whose interment will take place,

two days before Christmas.

Then, it will be time

to listen to the Divine,

in another group setting,

as we Baha’is gather

in consultation and spiritual discovery,

for the thirty-second consecutive

Christmas season.

I’m close to finishing

“The Tenth Insight”,

a novel of intense

spiritual energy,

of visions

of Armageddon,

of Rapture,

of Afterlife.

Much will happen,

in those regards.

I believe, though,

that we need not

leap into an abyss

of self-doubt.

We need not

head backward,

into a jungle of despair.

Our journey,

of true togetherness,

may cast a bridge

across the widest gulfs.

It is a matter

of free will.



December 8, 2016, Prescott-

The toughest month of the school year is almost half over.  Many people, adults and children alike, are eager for the Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa festivities.  Others are dreading the loneliness and tension that the same season brings.

I find it a delight, while keeping my heart open to the suffering.  We got the ball rolling on help for a hurting soul, this afternoon.  Another feels life is crushing- and for her, the only answer is “One step at a time.”  Neither is really alone, and both have a shot at getting through it.

Nothing is guaranteed, though, and things can and do fall apart, for reasons far from understood by yours truly.  I only know that taking the bitter with the sweet has been my saving grace, for many years now.  My son is finding that out, once again.  His healing has progressed another notch, and he is free to wear regular shoes again.  I hope gell pads are part of his foot gear, but he will make that choice and heal completely, regardless.

My own situation is such that, by taking each day as it comes, and learning from each thing that comes my way, I will first survive and then thrive.  Healing has taken five years, mistakes were made along the way, and people were hurt.  I am confident that some amends were made, and that, with my angel’s watchfulness, life will continue to be fruitful and full of growth opportunities for my soul.

As we continue to move towards our holidays, I wish all to find some solace and know that the light of love is shining, however distant it may seem.


Once Upon A Time, In St. Cloud


September 6, 2016, Prescott-

Once upon a time, in St. Cloud, a trio of boys went on an errand.

An unsettled, angry man went on an errand of his own.

Two boys made it home that night.

So did the man,

but not before he had made sure that the third boy

would only go home to his Lord.

Once upon a time, in Boulder, a little girl looked forward

to her seventh Christmas.

Someone, still unknown to us,

had other ideas.

She now spends her Christmases, and all her days,

at the right hand of her Lord.

Once upon a time, in Salt Lake City,

a young woman was imprisoned,

in plain sight.

Sharp-eyed people noted her burden,

and freed her.

Now, she has a husband who loves her dearly.

In these days, how many remain in “prison”,

or are interred, with no clue in the public mind,

as to “whodunnit”?

RIP, Jacob Wetterling.

RIP, JonBenet Ramsey.

Elizabeth, glad you’re still among us.

The Road to 65, Mile 16: Whose Yule?


December 14, 2014, Prescott- I skirted the fringes of a Facebook scuffle over A) which December holiday was better and B) who has any right to say Islam should not be practiced in American schools?  Hmmm.  The first one seems to be a tussle over pride of place.  To my way of thinking, there is plenty of room for all celebrations.  Yule, or Winter Solstice, is the oldest, going back to the pre-Christian Celts, at least.  Chanukah came next, in terms of chronology.  Christmas has the widest appeal, and greatest social cache, worldwide.  Modern and values-based, Kwanzaa delivers a viable message that Africans were never, historically, a primitive group of peoples.  Festivus?  Hey, what the heck, let the good times roll.

This is the time of year when people like myself can sit back and honour a wide variety of religious practices.  I still send cards and small gifts to Christian family and friends,  and light the Menorah that Penny, Aram and I kept lit, in honour of her family.  I can’t chant the blessing, as she did, but the respect is there.  I also feel the spark of energy that comes with Solstice, as the days get infinitesimally longer.

Fighting over holidays is as silly as parents fighting at Little League games.  I can only wish one and all a peaceful season.

The Road to 65, Mile 11: Getting Organized


December 9, 2014, Prescott- This date used to be one of the last serious work days, before things got TOTALLY CHRISTMAS.  That was when I was young and naive.  As a Baha’i, I still get into the spirit of the season, though.  My family and Christian friends, and their joys, still matter greatly.  So, I still send greeting cards, some with gift cards inserted.  I enjoy the holiday sounds and feel the magic of the day itself, knowing that it has Wiccan roots, which themselves celebrate bounty and blessings.  It is as good a time as any to honour Christ, and all He has brought to the world.

All the Messengers of God have brought the rudiments of organized worship to Their followers, and have left it to those followers to carry on the Mission of the Faith, through organizations which meet their needs.  That many have gone overboard, or astray, in the fullness of time, does not make the need for humans to be organized any less urgent.

In my own life, the difficulties I’ve had in accomplishment and in delivery of my promises, have all arisen from lack of organization.  My recent entry into the world of wellness advocacy has made getting more organized, on a daily basis, and according to the type of day ahead of me (Working, Non-working but in-town, On the road), much more imperative.  So, that was today’s main focus, along with updating my generic resume.

I also spent some time with a colleague, discussing a possible re-entry into the work force, in mid-February, after I return from visiting family and friends in the South.  This would radically alter my daily life, so it is not being considered capriciously.  Details will be shared at the proper time. Whatever transpires, I will remain in disciplined organization mode, from one day to the next.