Neighboring Faiths

Today, we wrapped up a year of our Unitarian Universalist Neighboring Faiths curriculum which seeks to introduce UU kids to the religious beliefs of their neighbors. In our case this year, this included Judaism, Catholicism, Protestantism (Presbyterians, specifically), Hinduism (with smaller discussions of Sikkhism and Buddhism), AME (African Methodist Episcopal, an American black Christian church), nature-based paganism, humanism, a review of UU, and Quakers.  We had class activities about different faiths, visiting speakers, field trips, and time for reflection.  It was an astounding year and I was so glad to teach it with three other co-teachers.  

I think I liked the Jewish, Islam, Hindu, and AME field trips the most, probably because they were least familiar to me.  And I liked our Muslim speaker most.  The kids least liked the Catholic and Presbyterian services--"too much Bible reading!"

Judaism (field trip):

• historic Torah--Survivors' Scroll for Bar and Bat Bitzvahs was 450 years old, surviving Holocaust in Czechoslavakia
• Ark by Ben Shahn; kids fascinated by Ark (where Torah scrolls are kept)
• MLK dedicated building in 1961
• story of the Menorah hand carved by student
• righteous and most righteous at the time, story of Noah and Abraham, who argued with God in name of justice
• in class, kids learned about Torah (first 5 books of the Hebrew scriptures) and Talmud (commentary); important prophets include Abraham, David, Solomon; minyan, or minimum number for service; kashrut (kosher laws) about pork and shellfish; yarmulke, tfflin; menorah as symbol of Judaism (not just Star of David); various holidays (Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Passover, Sukkot, which was occurring when we visited); differences between Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform, especially as relates to women; a bit of the history of the Jewish diaspora across Europe and into the US; 

Catholicism (field trip):

• 8 altar boys
• 2 priests, a deacon, 2 lay ministers
• beautiful 19th-century Gothic Revival church
• lots of incense!
• Wise and Foolish Virgins--all well and good but you must convert and believe now!
• NO girls as altar servers because they can't become priests
• in class, kids had discussed rosary, Trinity, 7 sacraments (Baptism, Eucharist, Confirmation, Reconciliation, Sacrament of the Sick, Marriage, Holy Orders)
• symbol: Crucifix

Presbyterianism (field trip):

• rainbow flag, refugee help, homeless shelter program
• focus on social action, justice, equality
• in-depth textual analysis of Nathaniel story, being known to God and knowing God--answering God's call "come and see"
• beautiful building--recycled telephone poles
• minister saw her stole as the yolk of Christ
• in class, kids heard about Martin Luther and Calvin; economic, political and religious focus of Reformation; stress on individual relationship with God, not through priest or Church; scriptural basis (Catholic church based on scripture AND tradition)
• symbol: cross

Islam (speaker and field trip):

• Belief in God/Allah; Prophets; The Unseen (angels, devils, etc)
• Islam is the religion; Muslim is the follower
• Five Pillars--belief, prayer, fasting, charity, pilgrimmage
• song about the months--Ramadan is holiest month
• Hijab--modesty; covers all but her face and hands; others don't wear headscarves and some wear niqab over entire face, also abaya/robe over close for some (see here); men were kufi/hats
• fasting--also about refraining from sin, not just food
• Prayer--ritual washing, prayer to Allah, bow, prayer to Allah, kneel, "Praise to God" x 3, and repeat from second prayer to Allah--5 times a day facing Mecca
• Hajj--pilgrimmage to Mecca in 12th month; ideally once in lifetime
• Koran--learn/memorize in Arabic, also many translations; Hafiz is person who memorizes it fully
• Service--same prayers for men and women but sit separately; long sermon, short prayer, over in about an hour.
• Bean pie!  African-American Muslim traditional food
• symbol: crescent

Hinduism (field trip):

• The four faces of Brahma, and the three main deities Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva
• The oneness and multifaceted aspects of God (which are either believed to really exist or to be symbols of life, nature, etc.)
• Rama and his story in the Ramayana; Baghavad Gita; Vedas; Upanishads
• Krishna and his incarnations when life on earth is out of balance between good and bad
• Elephant-headed god Ganesh; 
• pooja, the ritual offerings; 
• the animal spirits associated with the gods (and so there are many vegetarians); 
• samsara, or the wheel of suffering; 
• reincarnation; 
• karma, which is not some kind of universal scale of justice, but is more about the sum total of your actions (I've heard it described as intention)--so not "karma is a bitch";
• At the temple, we chanted OM , and other chants (shanti, shanti, shanti), plus two cycles of yoga forms (essentially what we would call salutation of the sun, downward facing dog, and others, called the Surya Namaskara);
• laddu, a sweet yellow ball with (usually) chickpea flour, ghee, sugar, nuts (almonds or pistachios), cardamom, and this one had raisins
• symbols: OM, 

Sikkhism:

• Punjabi religion founded in 15th century, not to be confused with Islam or Hinduism
• The 5Ks of Sikkhism--Kesh (uncut long hair); Kangha (small wooden comb); Kara (steel bracelet); Kachera (a type of undergarments); Kirpan (sword or knife); the Kangha and Kirpan are sometimes worn as little amulets in the turban.
• The ten Gurus
• One Creator, social justice, selfless service--they will feed anyone who comes to the temple and often deliver meals in times of crisis

Buddhism:

• Siddhartha Gautama:  mom dies when he is born; prophecy about becoming powerful warrior or influential guru; hidden from illness, aging, and death; studies to be an aesthete; Enlightenment--"all beings and I awake."
• The Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path ("Middle Way")
• Three refuges:  Buddha, dharma, sangha
• karma, nirvana (enlightenment), samsara (wheel of suffering), bodhisattvas
• meditation
• Theravada--focus on Middle Way and nirvana, divided into samatha ("calm") and vipassana ("insight"); Mahayana ("great vehicle")--Pure Land and Zen, focuses on bodhisattvas; Vajrayana--Tibetan
• originally an oral tradition so no main text like the Bible or Quaran.  Sutras gathered in nikayas, which are part of the tripitakas ("three baskets," the Pali Canon)
• symbols: lotus, wheel, Buddha (elongated ears, wheels on hands, top knot of wisdom)

AME (field trip):

• African Methodist Episcopal (AME) founded when racism experienced in Methodist church in Philadelphia
• Church we visited formed by ex-slaves is 1818 and is second-oldest AME church in the world;
• Booker T Washington once spoke here;
• near a lookout spot for the Underground Railroad;
• focus on personal/experiential preaching, blending of music and spoken word, physical response to worship (hands raised, dance, movement in the aisles);
• very loud music--one song lasted 15+ minutes ("Way Maker" and "It Could Have Been Me")
• very traditional Apostles' Creed
• Matthew 21:2--about being tied up (by challenges) and let loose by God--what challenges you makes you worthy to be called.
• altar call, with one person saved
• offertory conducted by everyone filing past the box up front
• some women in gorgeous hats

Nature-based/Pagan (speaker):

• This is the only class topic that I totally missed because we had just gotten back from Italy.
• An email describing the class:  "I opened with brief overview of earth-centered religions, and the kids were pretty astute about why we see the earth as a "mother" and why this would be worthy of worship.  "Earth is a Mother" served as a good chalice lighting; 4 kids read a stanza each, and then I re-read it and we discussed its symbols.  They identified directions, we read "The Four Directions" while turning appropriately each way - and teacher drove home the point about how out of touch we are in so much of our lives with where we are on the earth.  She also spoke to the 7th UU principle, and the 6th source.  We used the photos and teacher had photos from the May Day celebration she attends each year, we discussed paganism, Wiccan, why there might be a focus in this domain on the moon rather than on the sun (tides, women's cycles tied to lunar cycles).  She talked about her experiences with shamanism, including sharing Tarot cards and some other practice elements.  We spent a few minutes outside, came back to the room, made a circle and shared thoughts and blew out the chalice."
• Later, I told the kids about the 8 sabbats and the Law of Three, the individual practice, folklore as a sacred source.
• symbol:  pentagram

Quaker (speaker):

• Did a silent meditation and encouraged students to share when they felt called to, a la a Quaker meeting;
• Watched two videos about Quakerism, including "What does George Fox Say?" (based on the hit song);
• Speaker compared Quaker meditation, where you ask for insight and listen for the "still, small voice," to Buddhist meditation, where you do not focus on a question or a thought.
• Speaker liked the very long silences
• liberal religious tradition but still very Christian

Our Palm Sunday

Yesterday, for Palm Sunday, our RE class attended service at an AME (African Methodist Episcopal) church nearby (AME is a predominantly African-American Protestant church; it broke off from traditional Methodism because of racism and discrimination.)  And the kids didn't know what to do with themselves!

I had attended an AME service during college, as part of a religion-in-America class and so I knew it would be a long service, with a fluidity between song and sermon and lots of tangible worship.  By this I mean obvious physical and verbal means of praise--clapping, standing, dancing, raising hands in the air, calling out "amen" and the like.  This is the part the kids were unsure of.  As UUs, we don't tend to praise or worship anything--as there are as many concepts (or not) of the divine as there are congregants--much less make noise or move during service, unless it's a particularly rousing hymn (and then, really, it's only some of our more extroverted members.)  So to praise God, call out worship of Jesus, raise hands, stand up when moved was new.  Such organized UU kids--they were disturbed that they couldn't even figure out where we were in the order of service because of the fluidity between music and sermon.  They seemed uncomfortable with the emotional and passionate style, quite opposed to our UU intellectual and reflective services.  But I liked it.  Whether you call it holy or divine, or not, there was clearly a spirit in that church.  A community coming together in joy.  For some parts of it, I could just allow myself to be moved by that spirit, instead of analyzing what was happening.

But of course I did observe and analyze.  I had told the kiddos that people would be dressed up more than at our church (and so I wouldn't let them wear t-shirts) and, though there were some who were not, there were a few rows of older church ladies in hats with fans; most of the men were in suits.  I noticed the various oratorical methods (and here) used to engage the congregation--pauses, repetition, call and response, experiential preaching.  There was even that noticeable expulsion of breath after some words and phrases--the appending of "ah" such as "Jesus-ah"--when the preacher became really impassioned.  I pointed out to Sis and Bud next to me that this was the black preaching style that Martin Luther King, Jr came out of and then influenced.  I could also see the clear connections between the Gospel music and more secular pop, particularly when one of the deacons sang "Way Maker," interspersed with his own words and stories.  I think that song went on for 15+ minutes and couldn't even just be called a song--it was more of an interactive experience.  (Same with "It Could've Been Me.")  It reminded me of line singing, with the next verse called out, a tradition leftover from a time of greater illiteracy and a lack of hymnals (though, actual line singing is a more sorrowful tradition from white Appalachian churches.) There was also a guest musician, Alaina Rose, who is launching and sang a beautiful song and had the church's full support.

As for the message, the service, "ministry of words" I think it was called in the bulletin, it was nothing like the slow, word-for-word exegesis of the Presbyterians we visited. (The only part that felt like other Christian services was the recitation of the Apostle's Creed.)  There was a guest "shepherd of the house," Rev. Figueroa, who apologized for not focusing on the Word, so caught up in the Spirit was he.  He said sometimes you need to praise with your feet--and he began to dance.  The scripture of the day was Mathew 21:2, when Jesus told two disciples to go fetch a donkey that was tied up and bring him forth to be used; and if anyone were to ask them what they were doing, they were doing His work.  Now, I would never have thought you could do a whole sermon on the phrase about "untie and let loose" but he did.  The "tied up" part was the issues and difficulties all people have (he mentioned poverty, illness, drugs, the ghetto, he said, drawing from the song, "It's not just that it could've been me.  It should've been me.")   He preached that it's these issues that make you worthy to be chosen to do God's work.  And so he encouraged the tied-up congregation to let loose.  And oh what praise there was.  In fact, he kept saying the crowd had him worked up and he wasn't going to end on time for the next service (which he barely did!)

So much was unfamiliar to our kids, beginning with the palm fronds passed out.  They weren't even sure what Palm Sunday was, much less the tradition of the palms. I tried to whisper info to them throughout the whole service.  Another unfamiliar part to UUs was the altar call, when certain people feel the call to be saved and go to the front of the church.  One young man did this and was welcomed by several deacons.  UUs don't convert like that--they attend a newcomer's class and might sign the membership book during service. The offertory was at least recognizable by the kids--except that the whole congregation rises and circulates to deposit their envelopes in a basket up front.

When we spoke to the pastor afterwards, the kids had questions—typical UU questions about history.  How old was the building?  How old was that pipe organ?  They learned that this congregation was founded by ex-slaves in 1818; it's the second-oldest AME church in the world.  Booker T Washington once spoke from pulpit.  The current location is not far from a spot believed to be a lookout for the Underground Railroad.    I asked the pastor what he would have the kids take away about his faith and his church.  He said that even with a rich history, we must always look ahead. 

My kids were exhausted by the whole experience and didn't have much to say about it on the way home.  Which was the exact opposite of me--I had been touched by the worship and wanted to discuss the whole thing.  This isn't to say I want to convert to AME--beyond not being a Christian, I clearly noticed the absence of the hallmarks of progressive churches, like rainbow flags and calls to social justice around issues like immigration and gun control.  I'm pretty certain they don't support same-sex marriage.  But I liked the music and the joy.  It was a beautiful morning and I appreciated the experience of their community spirit, which, for just awhile, I was a part of.

------
About appending "-ah" at ends of phrases (from straightdope.com):
It's caused by failure to breathe properly while orating. Preachers who end up sounding that way usually start out ordinary enough, but as their adrenaline begins to flow and they talk faster and longer and louder, their diaphragms start squeezing hard to empty their old breath so they will breathe new air. What you hear is this expulsion of breath through the preacher's vocal chords.

It's been a phenomenon for a long time. C. H. Spurgeon wrote for the July, 1875 Sword and Trowel, "Hints on the Voice For Young Preachers" (http://www.spurgeon.org/s_and_t/voice.htm):

It is an infliction, not to be endured twice, to hear a brother, who mistakes perspiration for inspiration, tear along like a wild horse with a hornet in its ear till he has no more wind, and must needs pause to pump his lungs full again; a repetition of this indecency several times in a sermon is not uncommon, but is most painful. Pause soon enough to prevent that "hough, hough," which rather creates pity for the breathless orator than sympathy with the subject in hand. Your audience ought not to know that you breathe at all—the process of respiration should be as unobserved as the circulation of the blood. It is indecent to let the mere animal function of breathing cause any hiatus in your discourse.

Lots of Little Things

I haven't made any final decision on the blog and, since I have a few stories, I'll post them.

Yesterday, at the drive-thru, the woman on the intercom greeted me in Spanish.  She apologized and switched to English.  When I pulled up to the window, she apologized again, profusely.  I asked, "Are you apologizing to me for greeting me in Spanish?"  Yes, she said; sometimes she gets confused switching back and forth.  I asked if she were bilingual and, when she said yes, I told her that was wonderful and she never needed to apologize.  I said I would have answered in Spanish if mine were any good.  But as I left, I said "gracias."

Last night, our Cadette troop helped out at the local food pantry.  When we arrived, more than an hour before it opened, there was already a line of 20+ people.  Inside, there were six rows of shelves, with a a few selections per aisle, and unlimited produce while it lasted.  A family of four could get some dried fruit, some canned fruit, 2 boxes of pasta, one box of cereal, two cans of tomato sauce, a jar of cocktail sauce, peanut butter, some meat or cheese or eggs, and a bag of day-old bread.  For a week.  Not much food, not much choice, no real brands.  And some of the clients were homeless, which means they only really could take food that didn't need to be cooked--apples, raisins, cereal, peanut butter, bread.  Others, were confused--I had to explain cocktail sauce to numerous clients--what were they going to do, run out and buy shrimp??  These weren't exactly foods that you could make a lot of different meals with--a family of four could perhaps make cereal breakfast, two spaghetti dinners, and perhaps chicken drumsticks with cocktail sauce.  We ran low on pretty much everything as the evening progressed, so that the only fresh vegetable was onions--and some took 20 or more, I'm guessing for soup.  Meat and eggs ran out, too.  The people at the end of the session had almost no choice.

I know that many of the clients work (and maybe that's why they came at the end of the evening); food insecurity hits more than just people who are unemployed or homeless.  Many brought small children.  Most were minorities (African American or Latinx), most were women, young and older.  There were a few white people, who had clear signs of mental health issues and learning disabilities.  As Sis noted, several clients smelled like cigarettes; I smelled urine, too.

It was very eye-opening for the troop and for the adults.  The girls were mostly sad--sad that people were hungry, sad that people were poor, sad that there was so little.   I was surprised at how little food they got, especially given that they only came once a week. And the quality was very low.  I know my family is privileged--I think I didn't realize how much.  I'm sure we waste more food than these 115 or so clients and their families get.  And, in the current political climate, there will probably be less rather than more.  I mentioned to one of the moms that I would have loved if some of the dads--many of the dads are Republicans, though married to Democrats--had been there, though I can just hear the racism and classism ("I work to take care of my family," etc.)  And then if the GOP takes away healthcare too . . . . The girls were very mature, very hardworking (they carried bags and helped  clients figure out what they could take)--the volunteer coordinator couldn't believe they were seventh graders.  They were pretty quiet as they left after two hours of work, but dedicated to coming back to help at the pantry and later cook dinner at the soup kitchen.  And I think I'll be making more deliveries to the food pantry (though, they said cash is best so they can buy in bulk.)

Otherwise, I've been taking it slowly this week, mainly because I twisted my knee last Friday at hospice.  I thought it would stop hurting with some rest and wearing the little brace I have--I do this about every five years or so--but it's gotten harder to walk and I've even canceled going to hospice tomorrow.    I have an appointment to see my ortho next week and am still taking it easy.  Blah.  I'm pretty sure it's just a muscle thing but better to check.

It might as well be this week because I'm spending a lot of time online doing my Chaplaincy Care Volunteer training class, through Healthcare Chaplaincy and the Spiritual Care Network.  It's an online, introductory course for some continuing education credits; though I've been a hospice volunteer for five years, I'm taking the class to learn more of the theoretical underpinings of hospice and to explore the organization before I apply to do their Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) unit
(which is much more involved--about 400 CPE hours vs. 18 ce credit hours) in the spring.  So, I've spent every morning this week doing the readings, watching the videos, and doing the assignments.  Not surprisingly, many of the assignments are reflective not the regurgitation of information.  And I've found it fascinating.

For instance, the discussion of spiritual distress clarified for me that I experienced such distress after my emergency abdominal surgery, which was a reminder of mortality. And my secular humanist, Buddhist-inspired Unitarian Universalism is not all that comforting about the afterlife.  I don't believe in heaven (or hell); I do not believe in an omnipotent, omnipresence authoritarian godhead.  Pretty much, when I die, I'm dead. And that's not all that comforting.  So for awhile after surgery, I wondered if I could change my beliefs to something with more of an afterlife, and, in the end, I just can't.  I go back and forth about the divine light inside of each of us, which rejoins the universe after death (because energy cannot be destroyed, accoring to our current understanding of physics), but it's not me.  And it's not my life.  As a parent with relatively young children, I find it very difficult to think of leaving them permanently now (even just thinking about it, much less being faced with it really), hence the distress.  How did I overcome it?  Hospice work helps and distance from the precipitating event allows me to go back to ignoring it on such a visceral level.  I'm hoping as the kids get older, as I get older, or if something forces my hand, that I will become better at thinking of leaving this life.  It's a practice.

About that little divine light within each of us; I'm thinking of it metaphorically.  It's been called our spirit, our soul, "this little light of mine." That which enlivens us, differentiates us.  Namaste. "The light in me recognizes the light in you." In me, it flares up at the smiles of my family, a beautiful sunset or view, the national anthem or other pageantry (like the Olympics), when I sing a touching song, when my cats purr.  It draws me to community, to service, to compassion, to love.  When I'm angry or sad or regretful or guilty, it darkens.  Yep, all those tried and true light vs dark metaphors (though as a white woman, I reognize the trouble in associating light with goodness, hope, etc., and darkness with the opposite.)  When my UU RE class visited the local synagogue this Sunday and spoke with the rabbi, he spoke of the divine light that Jews believe is present in them, first breathed into us by God with Adam.  There is no hell; when someone dies, the spark rejoins the divine.  The rabbi mentioned that this interest in a divine spark, an internal, eternal light, comes from the East and in that way is similar to Buddhism, Hinduism, etc.  (BTW, I personally got teary on that field trip when a young woman from the synagogue practiced her bat mitzvah portion on the synagogue's 450-year-old scroll that survived the Holocaust.  This Torah now helps initiate a new generation of young Jews.)

I'm also reading a book by John Pavolitz, the progressive Christian preacher who is active on social media in excorciating #45, the GOP, and religious extremists who hate on LGBTQ, feminists, and others.  I grew up in a family that was, at best, disinterested in Christianity (and all religions), if not somewhat hostile.  Even at a young age, I saw a lot of hypocrisy in the Southern Baptists I knew.  As I grew older, I saw more--people were religious but didn't seem to live out the values of mercy, charity, faith, love, etc exemplified by Christ.  Certainly, now that I'm an out lesbian, I see even more hypocrisy and quite often wonder then, why do people bother to be Christians then?  Except reading Pavolitz's new book, Building a Bigger Table, I'm starting to understand the appeal of Christianity, at least as Pavolitz describes it--a table with legs of radical hospitality, divesity, beloved community, and  . .. oh, I'm forgetting the last leg.  Still, those are all wonderful things.  Now I don't know much about Jesus--and I don't believe in a supreme being, much less his holy incarnation on earth and so I won't become a Christian--but I can appreicate the core values as Pavolitz sees it.  He also talks about the light inside of us, which reaches out to others.

And today is Diwali, the Indian festival of lights . . . and the chalice is the symbol of Unitarian Universalism . . . so I have light on my mind.

What else?  I learned about reminiscence therapy, where you guide older people, especially those with memory loss, through significant life events, like school or marriage, using objects (e.g. a wedding veil), music (wedding song), scent (fresh flowers), etc.  I actually had the opportunity to try it with one of my hospice patients that afternoon, as she had a letter about a family member's recent wedding.  So, we talked about her wedding, back in the 1940s, after the war.  A chuppah, breaking the glass, a white dress, and how it all started the family that loves and surrounds her today.  Also, one of the videos, this time on prejudice and professional, featured a therapist who said there are no first impressions--every time we meet someone new we are reminded of people we've met before or lessons we learned from our family and/or culture (such as racism) and so we have prejudices that are very hardwired and hard to overcome; as professionals, it would be our job to see these thoughts and then just set them aside. (As we say in Buddhism, don't believe everything you think.)  My first thoughts weren't about my own prejudices with regards to other people but how such prejudices affect how I see myself--how much I berate myself for being overweight, for instance.  I have a very strong, very negative inner voice that rarely quits (especially this week with my knee hurting), even when I can examine the thoughts and try to let them go.  I am much nicer and more understanding, for instance, about everyone else's body issues; just not mine.  As for prejudices I might carry with me to hospice, ironically, I used to be anxious about talking to elderly people because I couldn't understand them (on, say, Girl Scout visits to nursing homes) and would avoid it; I would rather have spent time with children with special needs, say (like when I worked at various camps.)  Well, now I spend a lot of time with sometimes very hard to understand elderly people!  Of course, the most obvious prejudice is racial.  I carry that baggage, too, but consider myself, to use the parlance, newly "woke." Or, perhaps, awakening.  I try to stay aware of my privilege and the challenges of non-white or non-privileged people, based on race, ability, income, gender etc.  I hope it doesn't affect my hospice work.  For instance, I do become very aware of racial issues (and am a bit uncomfortable) when I'm singing Harry Belafonte songs with Carribean patois lyrics to my white patient who loves those songs, in front of her Jamaican personal health aide, who sometimes sings and dances along!  But I will enter any room where I'm welcomed and treat the person in the bed and the friends and family around with all respect and dignity.

Whew! I think that's probably enough for today.

Talking Faith

Today at Hospice, a Jehovah's Witness proselytized to myself and my fellow spiritual care volunteer about her faith.  I'm not sure how often I've been on the receiving end of such a strong impulse to convert me (even my Mormon friend doesn't try that!)  But she was so dedicated to her faith, supporting her through the death of her spouse.  I couldn't agree with her about her Savior and his Resurrection, but we all agreed on the importance of hope and community, which permeate most faiths.  We just give the light that sustains us in the darkness different names. Christ, God, Jehovah, Allah, Buddha, Spirit, Love, Mother Nature, Beloved Community . . . even science and humanity.  Afterwards, I spoke with my colleague, who is Jewish (and so was equally unmoved by the conversion attempt), and we continued our discussion of faith, hope, and community and how we functioned in a predominantly Roman Catholic environment. She likes Psalm 23 but rarely recites the Lord's Prayer, since it isn't about honest or true connection for her.  I've done the Lord's Prayer and "Amazing Grace" but not the Catholic blessing with the cross on the forehead.  For both of us, listening to patients and their families, truly connecting with them, serving our communities is a main tenet of our faiths, above and beyond communion, salvation, and witness.  Beyond this deep conversation, we talked kids and Connecticut.  I'm going to enjoy working with her.

The conversation reminded me of church, where I'm teaching RE this year--the kiddos' class, even.   "Neighboring Faiths" is the curriculum, which introduces kids to other religions--Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Catholicism, Protestantism--through visitors and field trips.  I'm really looking forward to it, which is why I volunteered to teach (it'll help with my hospice work, too, even if most patients are RC.)  I think it's really important for the kids, too.  I learned through going to church with childhood friends--whoever I spent the night with on Saturday, I'd go to church with on Sunday (mostly on the Protestant spectrum, though--Presbyterian, Lutheran, Methodist, Southern Baptist, some Catholic, and my Hindu neighbors, though they didn't go to temple much.)    The kids groan a bit about going, but they know it's important to me.  And maybe, years from now, it will help them in their own discussions of faith and interactions with people of other faiths.  Or, they might even change faith communities.  Okay, sure, I'd be shocked if they became Catholic--like my cousin did, becoming a monk even--but I think as long as they kept to the spirit of UU principles--the worth of all beings, the importance of community, the responsible search for truth and justice, the respect for different sources of wisdom--well, it'd make for some good conversations.

Besides, having a better understanding of Catholicism will come in handy for our trip to Italy in the spring!

Hospice Thoughts

A Hospice Metta

May you be comforted.
May you be at ease.
May you be strong.
May you be free from suffering.

I've been working on the words of metta to fit hospice work.  Health, safety, happiness just didn't seem to be the right things to focus on.  And so I've been trying to think what I most wish for my hospice patients.  Strength instead of fear at the end of life, comfort and relief not pain, the support and comfort of family and friends, even hope for relief and good days though not a cure.

Since the middle of summer, I have been volunteering as a chaplain-in-training at a local hospice residence.  I go for several hours once a week.  As of yet, there has been no formal training beyond initial HIPPA, fire safety, and universal precautions.  I will have official in-service training later this fall, but they had wanted me to start right away.

I have been following various volunteers and the senior chaplain, going on rounds, going to IDT (interdisciplinary team meetings), learning about paperwork (oh, so much paperwork.)  The procedures have been a little overwhelming; there are just so many more patients than my one or two-at-a-time in my other organization.

But it is wonderful to have mentors with their guidance and support.  I've been often alone at my previous place (I'm still seeing my last patient, who is quite amazingly holding on.)  I'm learning new ways to interact with people and beginning to clarify my own style.  The senior chaplain even teste me last week; he had me go into a room, look around, and come back out.  I did and he quizzed me about the spirituality of the patients.  So, I guess absorbing and analyzing visual cues is something hospice and art history have in common.  That, and I'm much more adept at reading symbolism and religious icons than I otherwise would have been.

 One volunteer, who is a Catholic eucharistic minister but not quite a Roman Catholic anymore, has advised me that it's okay to give Catholic blessings with a cross on the patient's forehead.  I haven't been sure about this; indeed, I'm quite unsure.  I think prayers are one thing, but formal blessings in the manner of a priest are outside of my purview.  It seems to me deceitful, as if I could offer what a priest does (leaving belief aside.)  And so I don't.  Prayers, ecumenical blessings, wishes and hopes, listening, comfort, support, presence--these I can do.  For those to whom it has meaning, even "Amazing Grace" and the Lord's Prayer.  I would do similarly for someone who is Jewish or Muslim, etc.

In Unitarian Universalism, the first principle we affirm and promote is the inherent worth and dignity of all people.  And while it's not a principle per se, I would argue that we also support the idea of community.  For me, hospice work is about these UU principles--companioning the individual through the dying process, supporting their family and friends, doing this service for the larger community, so no one is alone.  For myself, I don't believe in heaven or hell, or even an afterlife.  But I know we all die and that it is one of the greatest fears anyone has, for themselves or their loved ones, almost regardless of their religious beliefs. My faith concerns the present, this life on earth, for it is all we know.  And so I sit with my hospice patients--the Catholics, the Jews, the Protestants, even the one Unitarian a few weeks ago--and I wish them peace.

May they be comforted.
May they be at ease.
May they be strong.
May they be free from suffering.

Good News

After nearly five years of volunteering for a for-profit hospice organization, I am taking the next step in my path to becoming a hospice chaplain.

Last week, I met with the volunteer director of a local free-standing hospice provider and she invited me to meet with the chaplain about joining the pastoral care team.  I spoke with him on the phone and then met him today . . . and I'm in!  I'll be a volunteer with the pastoral care team, a big step on my way to being a hospice chaplain.  I'll have more information about everything I'll be doing later, but it will run the gambit from visiting, conversation, funerals, even the odd wedding.  Altogether, though, it's about sitting with patients and families to give them space and a listening ear to explore the journey they're on.  I worried that I wouldn't pass muster with a senior chaplain because of my "knowledge gap" in theology (while I have a passing familiarity with various Christian denominations and their differences, I haven't read the whole Bible.  I know most of the stories through art.)  But, even after five years of volunteering elsewhere, I've never had a theological discussion with anyone who was dying; most want to talk about their families, relive memories, even those surrounded by Bibles, Christian hymns, prayer cards, and rosaries.   Closet I've come is singing "Amazing Grace" and reciting the Lord's Prayer.  Still, I know I have a lot to learn and I'm looking forward to companions on my own journey.  And if I'm not cut out for hospice chaplaincy, it's good to know before I go get anoter degree! (Yep, to be a real chaplain--accredited and all--I need a Masters of Divinity.)  If it is the right place for me, well, I'm excited to find that out.

It'll be rigorous, though.  At my initial interview, I was asked if I'd experienced a momentous death.  I never thought losing my dear Aunt Sis would come up in an interview, but I was able to talk about her death--how it was highly medicalized, with hospice only at the end, but that seemed to be her preference.  Of course, then later, my uncle and cousin died.

Then, in a cold call (which I never should have answered, being sick and half asleep on the couch), the chaplain (a Christian) asked me how I had been called to spiritual care.  Of course, I don't think of it as a divine "calling," not being called by anything but my own spirit.  Which I explained, along with my own path to Unitarian Universalism and hospice (Do you know what you call an atheist with children?  Unitarian.  Plus, there are my leanings to Buddhism.  And my own experience with pain and isolation.)  But I should've known that chaplains have seen it all.    These are not the questions I've had on other interviews. But I answered and was honest and it went well.

Still, I was glad to have practiced with Mama the night before--running through questions on strengths (comfort with people from different faiths and backgrounds; I've been told I'm a good listener) and weaknesses (that theology gap! also sometimes a tendency to avoid conflict and confrontation, though I'm better if I'm advocating for a patient.)  Also, what I want from my new organization--a mentor, a community of hospice workers, experience in a facility dedicated to hospice, more skills in sitting with people.  I could talk about my relevant experience--hospice volunteering, lay ministry at church, community service, mindfulness practice, non-violent communication (NVC) training--and my own practices such as Zentangle, Yoga Dance, meditation, reading poetry and history, even crocheting prayer shawls.  And, of course, clarifying my own beliefs--I believe in the inherent worth and dignity of all people, the interconnection of all beings, the importance of a variety of sacred teachers and wisdom sources, each person's responsible search for truth.  Yep, those are the UU principles.  Nothing about heaven, hell, or even God.  I'm focused on the world I know.  I do not know beyond that, though I tend to believe there is a spark of life but no divine plan, no cosmic engineer controlling fate and destinty.  Religions are created by humans to help them understand and cope with the Mystery; as humans are flawed, so are religions.  I don't think we come close to comprehending the world around us (just look at how wrong we've been about margarine!)--there are things we do not understand or can explain--I don't think the Mystery will ever be fully known--though, moments of grace show us glimpses.  So, for me compassion is the guide through our experiences; some call it Love.  And that is what I want to bring to people as they or their loved ones are dying; just as I hope I am surrounded by love, compassion, and family when I die.

And NONE of that came up today!  It was a quick discussion--he was comfortable with me and must have seen something he could work with--and I clean up nicely, in new clothes approrpriate for the place.  So there we go.  I have some HIPPA hoops to jump  through and then I'm on my way.  Soon. (I'll do the TB test and have my photo taken in two weeks; they're also checking references and doing a background check.)  I can't wait.

Last note:  I was meditating yesterday in preparation for today, and came up with the metta meditation I could use with hospice patients (the whole safe-happy-healthy-live in peace progression isn't quite right), or really with anyone:

May all beings know joy.May all beings know hope.May all beings know comfort.May all beings know peace.

Stuck

Thanksgiving is next week and, while I know I have so much to be grateful for, I'm just not feeling it yet.  I'm irksome.  I'm rather disillusioned and disgusted with the whole shebang right now.  I can barely get through my FB feed.  Or the newspaper.  (Though, as a side note, I'm loving all the mischievous  Biden memes.) All the talk of coming together and love on FB is annoying me.  "Love always wins"--yeah, except, you know, the election.  Sometime shit does actually happen and I think we do ourselves a disservice to pretend otherwise.  Random acts of kindness do not erase the real effects of racism, sexism, intolerance, violence, income inequality, environmental collapse, and the like.  For now, I feel like they are pablum to make us feel better that we're not doing more.  And frankly, they make liberal white women (because that's where it seems to be coming from) look silly.  Now, I'm not saying go be an asshole like the President-Elect.  And buying a stranger's cup of coffee is good.  And I do like the safety pin movement because, as a lesbian with biracial children, I appreciate knowing who would support me in the event of conflict.  But I'm looking for a little more practicality and realism than "love."  Especially because that is NOT the game the other team is playing.

I've given this some thought ever since I read an article about why Martin Luther King, Jr and later Barack Obama both looked at Unitarian Universalism and rejected it--its embrace of inherent worth and the search for truth and justice was too positive and didn't address the real losses and real suffering of many communities, particularly African American, both urban and Southern.  The UU focus on the goodness of humans can leave followers at a loss when faced with people who behave dishonestly, selfishly, immorally, violently, illegally, etc.  There have been discussions of why UU kids have trouble when they realize not everyone believes in inherent worth, the interdependent web, and acknowledging the importance of various sources of knowledge, etc.   I think it might be the reason so many UUs now embrace Buddhism--myself included--because it acknowledges suffering and how to address it skillfully.  I think that's one of the reasons I'm frustrated with all the "stronger together" talk now.  I'm sure I'll find a middle ground.

Still, I haven't decided what I want to do about it all.

Well, I have--I'm planning my Thanksgiving menu.

The Starfish

A glass starfish we found serendipitously at the fair after church on Sunday

There was a man--or it could have been a woman, in this case it doesn't matter-- walking on a long, empty, and beautiful beach one morning.  Before him, he saw a child dancing on the sand, swinging her arms (or "his" arms, if you like) back and forth.  As the man approached the girl, he saw that she was not dancing but bending down to pick up a starfish and throw it into the water.  There were thousands of starfish beached on the sand, as far as the man could see.  The man said to the girl, "What are you doing?" and she replied, "If they stay too long in the sun, they will die.  So I'm sending them back out to sea."  He said, "But there are so many.  You can't save them all.  You won't make any difference."  And the girl looked at the man and looked at the starfish in her hand, thought for a moment with her face all scrunched up.  Then she threw the starfish into the sea.

"Made a difference to that one!" she replied.

Soon, others heard of the girl's efforts and many people came to the beach to help.  And thousands of starfish were saved.

This was the lesson told at church on Sunday, a popular tale in Unitarian Universalist services that I had heard before.  But the timing couldn't have been better.  There is unrest in our nation, and our wold, anger, sadness, despair even.  The murder of black men by police officers, terrorist bombings in Chelsea, and, since Sunday, yet another school shooting.  The water is not clean in many cities, particularly Flint; the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe attempts to protect its water supply from a pipeline but is opposed by Big Business.  There is war, murder, rape, torture.  65 million displaced persons in the world.  100,000 children being bombed in Aleppo.  And there is a man running for president of our country who prides himself on his racism, homophobia, isolationism, sexism, who quotes Mussolini and befriends Putin, all the while lying and obfuscating to drum up support for his walls and deportations and "law and order."

What can I do?  What in the world can I do?  I'm tired of the "thoughts and prayers" that are posted--that I post--after shootings and bombings.  I'm tired of the "we'll love better" mentality that says if we only love stronger and broader that we can overcome all; we can outlove the haters.  Better yet, we should love the haters.  Okay, yes, sure.  Thoughts, prayers, love.

But action, too. Except, what can I possibly do?  I've often heard that everyone can't do everything so pick a cause and work on it--pick up that starfish--the environment, gun control, education, Black Lives Matter, Habitat for Humanity.  All of those are good.  Which one is for me?  For my family?  How do we introduce children to social action without scaring or worrying them to much?  How do we avoid compassion fatigue?  No one likes to think too long of extinct panda bears; sixty-five million people are so many to save.  

Breathe.

One starfish at a time.

Hospice, Girl Scouts, lay ministry, money for Hillary, cans of food for the food drive, donations to the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation, lemonade stand for autism awareness.  Keep going, spread the word, pick up just one more starfish.

We can each make a difference.  Even if it really all seems impossible.  Sometimes, you're tired of bending over; sometimes the number of starfish is too overwhelming.  So don't look just at the entire beach of starfish despairingly; look at the one you send sailing back out to sea, rejoice that it will live, and enjoy the morning on the beach.  Sometimes, it helps if you dance a little.  

Trying Taizé

A few years ago, I wrote about my interest in singing meditations and mentioned a local Taizé service, which is an evening prayer service of chanting.  I love to sing and had wanted to try the service.  Recently, our old UU church started offering its own Taizé service.  And last night I attended.

It was lovely.  We sat in a semicircle in the darkened sanctuary, facing dozens of lit candles.  We had an order of service with the words to the simple chants included.  And we sang each chant repeatedly, simple tunes that were easy to pick up.  There is something about intoning songs over and over so that the words and sounds become almost abstract.  I found it quite peaceful and meditative, really quite lovely.

My favorite song was the last one, "May All Beings Be Happy," which had verses about being happy, peaceful, and free from suffering, just like metta meditation.  I found the tune on Amazon and will teach it to the kids.

After all the singing (coupled with some prayer, readings, and silent meditation), we all left the sanctuary quietly.  In the parking lot, I said hi to my friends from the old congregation and then headed back home, taking just a little of the peace and quiet with me.

Catch Up: Two Weekends Ago

As much as I posted about my CZT experience last week, I didn't tell you about our excursions around Providence, a city none of us had visited before.  Unfortunately, the 30-degree/40 mph/snow squalls weather wasn't conducive to any outdoor activities such as Slater Mill, Coggeschwall Farm, or the Roger Williams Zoo that was most recommended to us.  But we did do a few fun indoor things, starting with the Culinary Museum on the campus of Johnson and Wales.  A history of American food and restaurants, mainly, we saw a great exhibition on diners, complete with diner car and fake food.  There was also a section on soda shops, one on the evolution of the stove (from hearth through cast iron and beyond), and another on outdoor cooking, including the Girl Scouts!  We marveled at the exhibition of sugar sculptures--real actual sugar work on display with this amazing lattice.  And a tiny space on the history of foods in ancient China, Greece, and Rome (I think.  Might have been some Aztecs, too.)  The only downside of the whole place?  No cafeteria!

So we searched for local places and Mama found this amazing old hot dog stand, officially called the Olneyville New York System Hot Wieners and Sandwiches.  There were neon signs, chrome bits, wacky signs (buy 1 for the price of two, get second free!), older male staff full of characters, and even bar stools just like the ones in the exhibit.  We had their hot dogs--which are wieners with flat ends in a steamed bun covered in some kind of ground meat and raw onion plus a smattering of seasoning somewhat like nutmeg--and french fries and cheesesteaks and a coffee milk, Rhode Island's signature drink made with coffee syrup.  It was all a riot of local color.

That evening, foregoing another meal, we wandered around downtown near our hotel, the Hotel Providence.  There was a craftsy store (full of artsy things, NOT a craft store), a used bookstore, and two Korean-Japanese places with one that sold bubble tea and other drinks.

LOVED this at the craftsy store Craftland

Exhausted, we spend the evening watching mediocre television--introduced the kids to "Deadliest Catch!"

 Before my Zentangle class began on Sunday evening, we spent the day around town.  Mama and the kids dropped me off at First Unitarian of Providence, which is a 200+ year old congregation in a lovely old building on an amazingly preserved historical street called Benefit.  (We had also marveled at historic Federal Hill the day before.)  I only heard some of the typically Unitarian service because I was distracted by the architecture.  It had the usual somewhat awkward but enthusiastic UU singing (our hearts are there--with so many aging hippies--but we aren't always such great singers in a group and we can rarely keep time) and a sermon about prayer which, also in UU fashion, skipped over the "to whom it may concern" acknowledging how fraught that was for us to focus on how it affects the praying person.  Then there was coffee hour--with real china cups in the early 19th-century parsonage and a book sale!  I felt right at home and missed my own UU congregation, which we haven't seen in awhile.


Mama and the kids did come across their own spiritual message:  the sign at a church down the street said "I find your lack of faith disturbing. --D. Vader"  LOVE IT.



We went to the museum of the famous Rhode Island School of Design, which is free on Sundays.  We wandered some of the galleries, focusing on the period rooms with all of their dec arts.   Mama even analyzed an 18th-century chest for us, you know, having built a replica herself. Sis noticed right away one of the "real" Gilbert Stuart paintings of George Washington.  There were also paintings by Hudson River landscapist Cole, portraitists Copley and Sully, and also the sculpture Nydia the Blind Girl by Rogers and busts by Powers.  We didn't spend too much time in the modern wings, though we nodded at the Warhol cow wallpaper, Rothko, and Twombly.  The kids were starting to sink, Mama was antsy to miss the weather on the drive home, and I was ready to start CZT class.

So even though it was a very short introduction to Providence, we enjoyed ourselves.  And eventually we'll get back for the zoo!

Fast Fast

Ramadan.

Latter-Day Saints Fast Sunday.

Yom Kippur.

In some ways, Lent.

I'm talking about fasting because there was an article in the NYTimes recently about the health benefits of fasting.  There are recent books and studies that suggest that intermittent fasting, particularly 2 days fasting a week (hence the name 5:2 fasting) is good for cholesterol, insulin resistance, weight, and other areas.

And all those are quite interesting, but you know how I feel about diets, especially as they really are the antithesis of a healthy lifestyle, mentally and physically.

But I am intrigued by the spiritual aspects of fasting.   Self-reflection, self-discipline, mindfulness, social justice.  Now, UUs don't officially observe any fasts, but, being a non-doctrinal community means we are free to explore our own rituals.  With food insecurity in our community, which was the focus of our Girl Scout troop's Bronze Award, and all the hunger and starvation in the world plus discussions of food processing, food waste, sustainability, and the environment, I appreciate something that brings these issues to the forefront of my mind.  Of course, I recognize that choosing to fast and controlling the boundaries of any hunger I feel is a sign of my privilege; however, I don't think that negates the value of the exercise for me.

And so, twice this week, on Tuesday and now today, I've done a partial fast following the method outlined in the book mentioned by the NYTimes, Moseley and Spencer's The Fast Diet.  This means keeping to under 500 calories two days a week.  I've been fasting (though, with tea and, today, some broth) until late-afternoon or dinner.  It's not a strict fast, tops about 10 hours from wake-up to dinner.

For a spiritual practice, it was all very physical.   Perhaps because it was only 2 days, or perhaps because I wasn't praying, I didn't have the clarity or focus or any other meditative experience you sometimes here connected to fasting.  I was so busy out and about on Tuesday that I only noticed I was hungry in passing and skipping meals was easy.  Well, until I fell on my dinner at 8 pm, after a meeting.  I would guess it was more than 500 calories, being take-out Vietnamese.  But, after a bit of wolfing it down, I slowed down and think I certainly appreciated that meal more than I would have.  Today, I notice it more, more because eating while I'm home is a habit--breakfast with kids, lunch around noon, snack with kids; eating organizes my day.  So I make a lot of tea, with a little milk.  I  haven't been uncomfortable.  I haven't been weak or queasy, probably because of the milk in the tea.  Most of the time, I wasn't even thinking about food.  And when I did think of eating or hear a few rumbles, I could only imagine what days and weeks of that might be like, especially without the knowledge that dinner comes at dusk or food is so easily available all over.  Personally, I am also much more mindful of cycles of hunger and how I feel throughout the day; also, shopping, cooking, and eating habits become so visible--what we buy, how it's packaged, how I cook, what I cook, how we eat a meal, when we snack, what we waste.  I know my thoughts don't help people who are food insecure and hungry, but, with our recent Girl Scout project helping out at the soup kitchen, I am more aware of ways to help out in my area and intend to do so.

In fact, the GS troop will be working on their Savvy Shopper badges this month, which includes learning about price points, budgets, meal planning, etc.  We think we'll let them each bring $2 and work in small groups, so that they have less than $10 to spend to buy ingredients that would make a few meals for themselves.  To help them, we'll be consulting Good and Cheap, the $4 a day food guide developed by Leanne Brown that features healthy, tasty recipes and meal ideas for people who use SNAP (food stamps), which I first learned about from NPR.  The girls will actually buy the food and we'll donate it to the local food pantry (along with a few copies of the book, which you can download as a free pdf at the above link.)

So, as I type, the kids are looking for dinner, which we are privileged enough to have so easily available.  Maybe, one day, they can fast with me.

Allegiance

We took a break from our kitty hospice here (we had someone feed the patient, though) and went into the city last night to see Allegiance, the musical about Japanese-American internment camps during WWII inspired by the life story of actor and cultural icon George Takei.  We had been on the fence about going anytime soon, but the closing of the show was announced and I realized how much I wanted to see it, especially after a few friends really recommended it.  So, Mama found this great opportunity through her audience rewards membership (for frequent Broadway attendees, and we're not all that frequent) to attend a Q&A with the tree main cast members, George Takei, Lea Salonga, and Telly Leung.

Musically and structurally, it is not the strongest of shows--I've seen worse (Whistle Down the Wind, anyone?)--but emotionally it was extremely powerful, especially in light of current world events with Syrian refugees and the vitriol spewed against them (and Mexicans and Muslims and women and people with disabilities) by Trump.  The musical follows one Japanese-American family's experiences and reactions to its experiences when they are incarcerated in miserable circumstances after Pearl Harbor; the son is very patriotic and joins the Army but the daughter comes to resist the internment, pulling their family apart and separating them for the rest of their lives.  Gaman, a Japanese word from Zen Buddhism meaning "to face the unbearable with dignity and patience"--a kind of mindfulness in the face of crisis--is a key tenet (and song.)  The show also addresses the worth and dignity of all human life, the importance of social justice, the scourge of racism, difficult decisions in times of war, standing up for one's beliefs, the nature of loyalty and allegiance; you could say it's a very Unitarian Universalist musical.  But it doesn't give easy answers--both the patriotic son, the resistant daughter, and ancillary characters are often sympathetic--and, even though there is a technically happy ending (when the now aged son is reunited with his niece), as Bud put it, "it wasn't a very happy show."

The performances were marvelous, though.  Takei, of course, is best known for Star Trek and his work as a gay rights advocate and now leading cultural figure.  He was in turn funny as the old grandfather and touchingly tragic as the aged Army soldier son.  Salonga, whom Mama saw in Miss Saigon some 22 years ago, has an amazing voice and sings many of the show's most touching songs.  And Leung was an exuberant and then devastated young man.

Best yet, we got to hear from all three of them after the show!   It was fascinating to hear them talk about the different iterations of the show. Apparently at some point there were two brothers and no sister, a mama, the nurse was actually just the daughter of the warden, Sammy was a minor character with asthma who only had one song. Leung talked about all the changes in the six years he's been with the workshop and the show. Salonga talked about how her Chinese-Japanese husband has relatives who managed not to be sent to camps because they moved to Colorado where the governor refused to lock anyone up. And of course Takei talked about the seat he is leaving open for Trump  to come learn about the very real effects of discrimination and racism in our world today (Trump even recently said he would have supported the camps during WWII.)  I saw the seat--it was down the row from us during the talk-back--and it had remained empty.  It wasn't very long, but it added an extra-dimension to the narrative and to our understanding of the process of the creation of musical.  

On another note, beyond my beliefs in social justice and anti-racism and my appreciation for Takei's work (I've donated to Takei's legacy project), I was just so glad to see a musical about, created by, and performed by a mostly Asian team.  No other show has that.  And with my two half-Asian children, it's very important to me that they see beyond stereotypes (of Asian doctors, science geeks, straight A+ students, prodigy violinists, and wimpy conformists who always follow the rules) and also that they see strong role models standing up for what's right in the world.  

And so, while I can't hum any of the songs this morning, the story and images will stick with me for a long time.

-=-=-=-=-

I'm going to try, later, to fold the origami flower that played such a role in the show.