A Legacy of Love and Grace-A Pin for Hope on World Kindness Day

For as long as I can remember my Nana wore the same pin every single day.  It was a simple safety pin filled from end to end with tiny shoes representing each of her chicks.  I cannot remember a day she did not put that pin on-even in illness on a bathrobe.  For me that pin would always represent love, the knowledge that I was cherished, and the safety I could find in sight of that pin.

Like many of us I have searched relentlessly this week for something positive, something hopeful, to hold onto and help to calm and confirm that it's all going to be OK...it has not been easy.  But forward we must go and somehow, someway, find the most peaceful path to not only change what an election could not, but also make it clear to everyone in this country, and in this world, that we are there for one another.  We must demonstrate everyday in as many ways possible that we care and that we vow to always stand with, support, and cherish those who are facing fear from a country whose ugly underside has been revealed, a country that has forgotten, or never knew, the fundamental place that grew this nation-empathy and a welcoming celebration of our differences.

  No, my vote didn't matter-but heart must!  There has already been ugly and scarring vitriol and rhetoric and actions, but for ourselves and our children, especially our children,  kindness is the only answer to those who obviously do not understand the country they claim to want to take back.

   As the UK dealt with their Brexit vote many took to wearing a Safety Pin to demonstrate that they would be a safe presence, not threatening, for anyone who might be facing fear.  As we enter our own new and anxious existence I wear Nana's  pin for her, the lessons she taught me, and to show that I care and I will do what I can to keep kindness and hope moving forward.

A Sky of Promise-Beyond the 11th

"Peace is our gift to each other. " Elie Wiesel

I think what I will always remember most viscerally about that morning is the sky. It was a September sky, that rare blue, clean and clear, that reflects the perfection of a late summer/early fall New England day. I wonder now how often I looked at the sky that day. How could a sky that glorious have held such horror?

On the morning of September 11, 2001 I was watering the late summer flowers willing them to keep summer going a few more weeks. I drove to my office with only a small news blip of a plane having flown into a building in New York. By 2:00 as I drove back home there were no planes allowed to be flying in the sky. When the roar of a plane's engine streaked through the complete silence of that afternoon I pulled the car over with my heart pounding as I realized the aircraft I heard were fighter jets from one of the Massachusetts bases. Once again I looked to the sky.

Living in Boston we all had six degrees of connections to the thousands of tragic stories of that day. Some of those stories lived their lives less than a mile away. Susan Retik and Patti Quigley lost their husbands, David Retik and Patrick Quigley, on flights that left from Boston that day. Susan was pregnant with her third child and Patti was eight months pregnant with her second child. They became single Mothers, Widows, living within a drama that changed everything for all of us but for their lives most of all.

Patti and Susan watched as the country prepared to strike back somehow in some way and saw that the women of the country that housed and trained their husband's murderers had been left alone too. The stories of the women of Afghanistan moved these two American women to action, to turn an unspeakable, deeply personal, tragedy into a promise of hope. Susan and Patti soon learned about the vast number of widows in Afghanistan who had no assistance, financial or emotional for themselves or their children. They felt a connection to these women whose lives were shattered by war and had no where to turn to rebuild their lives, none of the support that helped Patti and Susan get through. From that connection came Beyond the 11th "...to help provide financial and emotional support to these widows and their children and to give them hope for a better future."

Despite the changes for many women in Afghanistan since the Taliban was "removed" women without means, property, men to provide for them, are entirely dependent and live within poverty and desperation. Beyond the 11th works to aid non governmental organizations that make a difference in these women's lives by providing training, emotional guidance, child care, clothing and teaching them skills to help support themselves and their children and toward a life of self sufficiency.

Patti and Susan and Beyond the 11th have  been featured in a documentary by Principle Pictures, Beyond Belief . This weekend a 3 day cycling event  was held from Ground Zero to Boston  to raise awareness and funds to help the women of Afghanistan through Beyond the Bike. When they asked women of Afghanistan whether they would ride bikes if they were given to them..." they all began to giggle. They explained that in their culture women do not ride bikes and people would laugh to see a woman on a bike. They could not believe that we ride bicycles and when we explained to them how far we ride to raise money for their programs, they were astonished. I hope that one day the widows we met will have the experience of riding on a bicycle with the wind blowing in their hair."

“There’s a way in which each of us makes small choices every day. And after a period of time those choices develop into a pattern. Each moral and ethical choice forms our identity. It seems to me that the terrorists who flew planes into the buildings on September 11th, they started making choices a long time ago — choices took them so far off center that flying a plane into a building seemed like the right thing to do. It’s like any one of us. We choose our way into being ourselves. And I think that’s what Patti and Susan do in little choices and in big choices. When given a choice between violence and love — they chose love. When given a choice between retribution and restoration of harmony — they chose restoring harmony. When given a choice between death and life — they’ve chosen life. That’s just who they are. It’s who they’ve come to be. It’s who they’ve chosen to be. And because of that, their children are learning to choose life as well.” —Jim Fleming, S.J., Patti Quigley’s brother, in Beyond Belief

Two women whose lives, and whose children's lives ,would never be the same turned their pain, their grief, their anger to action. They were determined that from that day could come hope and change. For many of the women left behind by war in Afghanistan they can now reach for the sky, a sky that that holds promise of a better life, a better world and that may be the lesson of that September day.

To Donate or for more information Visit Beyond the 11th

Beyond the 11th's Grantees include:

Arzu meaning Hope in Dari helps provide income for women by marketing and selling their handmade rugs and paying the women 50% more than the market rate for their labor. The women also receive a bonus for each rug in exchange for promising to attend literacy classes and enrolling their children in school.

Bpeace which helps women in regions of war and recovery to market their skills and build businesses such as a group manufacturing soccer balls and other leather goods.

CARE a Beyond the 11th grant helped to fund a CARE Livestock Development Program helping women earn income through raising and rearing cows and lambs.

Razia's Ray of Hope "Razia’s Ray of Hope, founded by humanitarian Razia Jan, provides exemplary, free education to more than 500 girls in grades K-12 at the Zabuli Education Center in Deh’Subz, Afghanistan."

Women for Women "Helping Women Survivors of War Rebuild Their Lives"

This post was written several years back and on this 15th year after the 11th of September it is time to share Beyond the 11th's work of hope.
most images from Beyond the 11th

We are ALL Refugees... When Losing Our Hearts is The Greatest Fear

via TIME

This space is usually filled with the my favorite pieces of fluff--nothing wrong with fluff, but not this week.  Not on a week where horrific tragedy opened an arena for fear mongering and rhetoric filled with intolerance and ignorance.

As we grieve with Paris our fears naturally heighten.  What If is such an easy one.  Wanting to do anything and everything to ensure that the What Ifs don't happen is also a natural reaction. The truth is, however, we cannot wrap ourselves up, stop living, stop traveling, stop being.  As we know, that is exactly the desired outcome of terror... as is the consequence of narrow minded blame and turning on ourselves.

This week has been filled with words-words of sorrow, fear, anger and a horrible degree of  prejudice.  Does it make people feel better to accuse without reason, to banish without  justice, to deny humanity when it needs us most? 

 To stamp the word Refugee on a problem as large and complex as terrorism is the worst kind of ignorance.  We are, each of us, refugees-our history as a nation is made of all the countless millions of stories of those seeking a better life. 
 A life away from war, famine, persecution, intolerance.  
Do we now greet refugees with exactly what they are fleeing from?  

It was not the act of refugees that caused such horror
 in Columbine, Newtown, Tuscon, Charleston, Aurora ...

There are in fact fears greater than that of terror.  There is the fear of becoming complacent to violence.   When it ceases to shock us--it SHOULD shock us. We should not accept that we live in a world of insanity--whether it be Paris or Boston or Newtown.  Never should we become numb to it!  Never should we accept another shooting or another attack as the "way it is" .

 Then there is the  fear of losing our hearts, our humanity, our sense of compassion to those who choose to stir the pot and put forth propaganda and racism in the way of common sense. Because someone lives differently, believes differently, speaks differently, looks differently does not mean they are less than human.  How easy to point to the multitudes of innocent people who are fleeing in the thousands each day, washing ashore on beaches in Greece, scrambling to hold onto their dignity and their very lives to simply find the three words that we take as our right -
PEACE ,SAFE and HOME

None of us can do much to protect the world as a whole. We can, however, do a lot to protect humanity. Terror cannot exist in a vacuum.  When we fill the space with ignorance we feed it. When we come together and care we deny its right to exist.  By realizing we are all refugees and welcome those who need our hearts, not our fear, into our communities, as our families were welcomed, by using the true weapons that can make a difference-the basic instincts of helping others and showing compassion from the heart, then we stay above those who choose to plant fear.  

Still Marching Toward a Dream

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"There is not anything more powerful than the marching feet of a determined people"

Rev Dr. Martin Luther King

"Fifty years later, those of us who are committed to the cause of justice need to pace ourselves because our struggle does not last for one day, one week or one year, but it is the struggle of a lifetime and each generation must do its part."

                                                                                                                         Rep. John Lewis

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They marched for jobs, fair housing, equal pay, equal schools, an end to bias and discrimination and brutality.  They came to march, they came to sing,they came to protest,  they came to listen, and they came together.  People from every corner of this country, people from every background, every religion, every culture, every color-the famous and the jobless.

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Yes, they came to hear Dr.King and what would be the speech that he would most be remembered for giving- the speech that talked of "his dream" and the speech that talked of a check written by a government to its people that was without funds, a promise that had not been kept.  That speech delivered in his signature cadence, his preacher's solo,  his force-he would leave the script at Mahalia Jackson's request from the stage to "tell them about the Dream Martin" and speak of his Dream, take the crowd "to church" and preach of a future that could be and must be realized .

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" I still have a dream...  It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed …" "Every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together!"

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 Fifty years ago over 250,000 people marched as one .  They spoke as one and they listened as one.  They came to the National Mall on August 1963 perhaps not knowing what would happen that day, but they knew they had to come and they had to be a part of whatever was ahead.  What came was the largest non-violent protest in history.   It was a peaceful day, there would be violence ,so much violence, ahead.  The movement, the struggle, would lose its voices, its leaders but on that day there was unity and peace.  The tide had turned and justice, though far from complete, would begin to crack forward and progress, for some unimaginable progress, would come from this non-violent revolution.  The protest movement would grow, women's rights, anti-war... but it was this day that led so many to believe that change could happen, and it could happen from a base of non-violence.

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"This is our hope...This is the faith that I go back to the South with...With this faith,  we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day... And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true...  So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire … Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!... Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi...From every mountainside, let freedom ring!"

Fifty years later I look at those images, those placards and those faces from that August day and I question why we are unable to do it now. Civil Rights legislation passed, voting rights passed, a non-white man sits in the oval office and a black woman is one of the richest people in America -this country has changed in fifty years, but for so many in this country, too many, there is no voice that has yet to match the voice of that day, there is no movement that has risen in peaceful protest, there is no organization that can free itself of politics, yet those signs still need to be carried.

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"And when this happens...when we allow freedom to ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up the day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, 'Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!'"

Running Toward It-Being Boston Strong

" So let each dweller on the Bay Fold Boston in his heart" Ralph Waldo Emerson

 I am not a runner, never could be-what's my hurry :)  but once a year if you live in Boston running is what it is all about.  Patriot's Day and The Boston Marathon is the day we put our boots and mittens away and begin to live Spring.  Sometimes it is snowy or rainy or even hot, but Marathon Monday is always a celebration and a marker of new beginnings.   On this Monday it was a beautiful day for Patriot's Day, ideal running and spectator weather-the day which starts on the Lexington Green and in Concord with reenactments of  the battles that gave birth to Revolution and  ends at the finish line on Boylston Street in Boston.  On this Monday,however, the day was filled with paradoxes-joy and cheers followed by terror, trauma and horrific images of pain, fear, panic and unfathomable sadness. The week would bring anger, it would bring grief, it would be extraordinary anxiety, but it also brought bravery, heroism, and lessons on what it means to run toward and be a part of this most genuine of American cities. Perhaps unlike any other American city Boston not only embraces but breathes its history and tradition, and we don't take that legacy lightly.

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My most visceral reaction throughout this terrible week was how to talk to kids-how to reassure them it is OK to go to a Parade, a ballgame, the 4th of July Fireworks or stand and watch the Marathon run by on a Spring day on April vacation?  How to be sure they feel safe and not afraid to go out and play- even in their very own backyards where in fact terror did hide.  I looked as many did to the simple words of Fred Rogers... 

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping." To this day, especially in times of "disaster," I remember my mother's words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world."

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How often in our lives do we choose not to run toward something but rather go the other way?  How many lives were changed, how many lives were saved ,by those that ran toward the danger and fear this week.  We expect to be protected but those who have chosen to put their lives between us and danger---never again will we look at a Boston Police officer and think-where's the Dunkin' Donuts?  The bravery and caring of all the forces involved this week was extraordinary and we thought so often of their families at home watching live on television as they risked their lives for us.  It was the ordinary folks, however, that connected and resonated with Mr. Rogers words in our heads- the volunteers that carried people to medical care, the spectators that jumped in from the crowd to tie wounds or sit with victims til medical help could come, the runners who having just run 26 miles kept running to hospitals to give blood or volunteer.  Even the smallest gestures revealed our soul as a city and as human beings--countless acts of bravery and courage without thoughts of safety were seen-countless gestures of people reaching out and helping-  neighbors offering stranded runners phones to let loved ones know they were OK, a place to rest, rides, shelter, orange juice...

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The long week, that most of us walked through in a fog of uncomfortable unrest, would come to an end Friday night. Even the weather on Friday was a bit disconcerting-unseasonably muggy and humid, overcast and gusty.  The day began with a robo-call alert introducing us to a new phrase in our lives "shelter in place" we were told...and so we did.  The day ended as if we were watching a movie or crime drama but it was really real, just a few miles down the road on streets we know well.  Once the news was released that "we got him"  people poured out onto the streets to cheer and give thanks to first responders, police, state troopers, Swat teams and FBI personnel that captured a terrorist in our midst.  The scenes of this week were surreal and so difficult to get our heads around-not in our town-not in Boston-but they happened here-bombings, open fire gun fights, bomb squads on alert, threats and fear and almost cinematic drama. What we know will shine through all of the pain,however, is Boston, the city that we love, the people that got up Tuesday and moved forward, the "helpers" that Mr. Rogers told us to look for-they were there!

A police officer brings milk to a family with young children in Watertown who were out of milk during the lock down on Friday
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Maybe this Monday, this week, so unlike any other we have known, has shown us that running toward it can be a model to base so much on-How often in our lives do we turn back, do we not take that step, not offer that hand, not make that gesture.  We don't have to run into danger to demonstrate what it means to help-the smallest act can heal.  The long week may be over,but for so many the sadness will never leave and it is the victims, the wounded, and even the city itself that needs small ,helping, caring acts-Begin with donating to The One Fund Boston established by the Governor Patrick and Boston Mayor Menino to help those affected.

One Fund Boston

"The townsmen braved the English king, Found friendship in the French, And Honor joined the patriot ring Low on their wooden bench. O bounteous seas that never fail! O day remembered yet! O happy port that spied the sail Which wafted Lafayette! Pole-star of light in Europe's night, That never faltered from the right. Kings shook with fear, old empires crave The secret force to find Which fired the little State to save The rights of all mankind. But right is might through all the world; Province to province faithful clung, Through good and ill the war-bolt hurled, Till Freedom cheered and the joy-bells rung." Ralph Waldo Emerson

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Moving Beyond the Horror-Beyond the 11th

 

 “There’s a way in which each of us makes small choices every day. And after a period of time those choices develop into a pattern. Each moral and ethical choice forms our identity. It seems to me that the terrorists who flew planes into the buildings on September 11th, they started making choices a long time ago — choices took them so far off center that flying a plane into a building seemed like the right thing to do. It’s like any one of us. We choose our way into being ourselves. And I think that’s what Patti and Susan do in little choices and in big choices. When given a choice between violence and love — they chose love. When given a choice between retribution and restoration of harmony — they chose restoring harmony. When given a choice between death and life — they’ve chosen life. That’s just who they are. It’s who they’ve come to be. It’s who they’ve chosen to be. And because of that, their children are learning to choose life as well.”

—Jim Fleming, S.J., Patti Quigley’s brother, in Beyond Belief

I wrote this post several years back, but on this the 10th anniversary of a day that haunts us still, as it should, I believe more than ever that the only answer to be found in that day is to Move Beyond-to take the memories and create change, make a difference that resonates in lives and that has true meaning.  Hanging flags, building monuments, dedicating memorials are all important signs of remembrance but do they move us forward as a society, do they show the world we believe in hope?   

I think what I will always remember most viscerally about that morning is the sky. It was a September sky, that rare blue, clean and clear, that reflects the perfection of a late summer/early fall New England day. I wonder now how often I looked at the sky that day. How could a sky that glorious have held such horror?

On the morning of September 11, 2001 I was watering the late summer flowers willing them to keep summer going a few more weeks. I drove to my office with only a small news blip of a plane having flown into a building in New York. By 2:00 as I drove back home there were no planes flying in the sky. When the roar of a plane's engine streaked through the complete silence of that afternoon I pulled the car over with my heart pounding as I realized the aircraft I heard were fighter jets from one of the Massachusetts bases. Once again I looked to the sky.

Living in Boston we all had six degrees of connections to the thousands of tragic stories of that day. Some of those stories lived their lives less than a mile away. Susan Retik and Patti Quigley lost their husbands, David Retik and Patrick Quigley, on flights that left from Boston that day. Susan was pregnant with her third child and Patti was eight months pregnant with her second child. They became single Mothers, Widows, living within a drama that changed everything for all of us but for their lives most of all.

Patti and Susan watched as the country prepared to strike back somehow in some way and saw that the women of the country that housed and trained their husband's murderers had been left alone too. The stories of the women of Afghanistan moved these two American women to action, to turn an unspeakable, deeply personal, tragedy into a promise of hope. Susan and Patti soon learned about the vast number of widows in Afghanistan who had no support, financial or emotional, for themselves or their children. They felt a connection to these women whose lives were shattered by war and had nowhere to turn to rebuild their lives, none of the support that helped Patti and Susan get through. From that connection came Beyond the 11th "...to help provide financial and emotional help to these widows and their children and to give them hope for a better future." Please Visit Pearls of Grace

A BIG Box of Crayons...and LOTS of New Books! First Book for Back to School

Nishan Akgulian

"We have a little girl in our program, a pre-school child. She liked her book so much, she slept with it every night under her pillow. She wouldn't part with it for anything!" First Book

I think the true sign of Growing Up, not Growing Old- just growing up, is when Labor Day weekend rolls around and you actually miss going back to school...guess I am all grown up because all I want to do is go shopping for a Big Box of crayons, some cute folders, new pencils and lots and lots of new books.

Nishan Akgulian

What's your favorite book? Do you remember the first book that was your very own? How about a book that inspired you? Maybe there is a special book that introduced you to new horizons, brought a new kind of magic into your life and set you on the path to a lifetime of reading?

Books are a treasure in my life and I cannot imagine my world without them. I adore Nishan Akgulian's whimsical illustrations for Bas Bleu, my favorite little book and reading catalogue.

Akgulian's work happily expresses the joy of reading anytime, anyplace,anywhere, and what a special role books have in our lives. 

 A teacher told us that when she asked her class to bring in a book from home, three of the students brought in the phone book because that was the only book they had." 
Kyle Zimmer, First Book

First Book works to get books into the hands of kids who don't have access to new books, opening a world of reading to them.  Come join me in a Back to School Celebration by supporting First Book-Please Visit Pearls of Grace

One for Shoe and One for Shoe-TOMS Gives Back "One for One"

"What if I started a shoe company and every time I sold a pair of shoes I gave a pair away and that way as long as I  continue to keep selling  shoes these kids would have shoes for the rest of their life" Blake Mycoskie

In 2006,  Blake Mycoskie was traveling in  Argentina and found that so many children there had no shoes to protect their feet. Deciding that he wanted to help, Mycoskie created TOMS, a comfy,casual,caring and very cool shoe company with an important mission-TOMS matches every pair of shoes purchased with a pair of new shoes given to a child in need. "One for One". Partnering with humanitarian and health organizations TOMS and Mycoskie return year after year to provide shoes to the same kids as they grow.  So many children across the globe grow up without the most basic of needs-including shoes putting them at risk of not only cuts and sores but also disease.  Wearing shoes also opens the doors to education for  children as schools will not allow them to attend barefoot. As of Sept 2010 1 million pairs of TOMS have been donated to children in need in 20 countries around the globe.

TOMS sells comfy eco-friendly and responsible footwear with a stylish twist. The best known TOMS are a slip-on espadrille style.

The Artist Styles are among my favorites and  I love artist Mary Gregory's hand painted TOMS

TOMS are truly a great canvas to express a point of view-none more important than Blake Mycoskie's.  Come Visit Pearls of Grace

A Good Cover! Out of Print-T Shirts with a Mission

Out of Print

Books are the treasured

wealth of the world

and the fit inheritance

of generations and nations.

-Henry David Thoreau

As long as I can remember I have loved old book shops.  They are few and far between in this country now, even in an old city like Boston. As we go digital and Kindle out our libraries, the feel of the page and the weight of the book in our hand connecting us to the words we read is getting lost, as is the experience of flipping through a dusty book that has been lovingly read by who knows how many adoring readers. Old books shops and independent bookstores are treasures, you never know what you will find and often you can  uncover some out of print covers.

When you roam the shelves of your favorite book shop searching for something new to read it is the cover that draws you in first-that cover must tell a story long before you turn the first page.  Book jacket art very often sells you the book, books with stories that you may hold dear and return to again and again.  A wonderful site, Out of Print ,celebrates classic and iconic book cover art, often from out of print editions of famous titles, and prints them on Ts that are  "...treated to feel soft and worn like a well-read book."  

T shirts are not only fun fashion,but also a way to make a statement. The Ts from Out of Print  not only  cheer great literary art and our love for all things with pages, but with every T sold  Out of Print  will donate a book to a community in need through Books for Africa, an organization dedicated to "ending the book famine in Africa" by collecting and distributing books to children in Africa and spreading the joy of books and reading. In October of last year after only 10 months Out of Print sent over 20,000 books to Africa.  

Out of Print also sells iPhone and e-reader covers with their cover art. Be sure to visit their blog with posts all about wonderful independent new and used bookshops and great literary finds. Come Visit Pearls of Grace.

The Skies Grew Dark...

 It is was a strange and unsettling day on Wednesday in Massachusetts as cold air hit heavy hot and humid air, resulting in violent thunderstorms with vivid lightning strikes that kept rolling through-they seemed as if they would never stop coming.

Reports say as few as 3, and as many as 7, tornadoes touched down in Western and Central Massachusetts from Springfield to Sturbridge.  Most frightening of all was an EF-3 Tornado that traveled 39 miles destroying lives, homes and memories in its track.  We get watches and warnings of tornadoes but no one can actually remember one hitting, at least not with the the force of what happened on Wednesday- tossing cars, leveling homes, and taking lives. Tornadoes happen to Dorothy, we get Blizzards in this area, but on Wednesday our view of the sky changed forever.  On that day and night we saw the indiscriminate strength of nature, both majestic and devastating.

The next morning a crisp sunny day dawned and in the Gardens of Camp MP the stunning contrast of what nature can bring was evident everywhere.  As so many dealt with loss and destruction Camp MP was in bloom-peonies and clematis  dotted the gardens with breathtaking size and grace.  We wish the people of Western and Central Massachusetts such grace -if you would like to help the victims of the June 1 storms Please Visit the fund set by The American Red Cross.