Arena of Friendship
176 days of digital mass and social distancing
372 days of celery juicing
With a deepening sense of reverence, I got up grateful for one more day of life, breathing and enjoying God’s creations. I walked out without breakfast, determined to walk miles.
I still had in my head, Fr. Randy’s homily of “not cheapening God’s fellowship, of keeping fidelity to our faith.” If that were so, why am I not moving more, exercising to honor the Lord’s sufferings so we may have a life, redeemed of our sins?
Gosh, I almost took photos of the entire route. Images struck me from gilded thorns of rounded cacti, of white roses with browning crumpled edges, of posters of ‘Black Lives Matter’ and ‘We Will Survive’, of gilded flowers and a new friend, Winston Cook.
We talked for a few minutes, social distancing, in front of the Mango tree, with a sole mango fruit. He talked about how blessed we are to be in America, of how his father named him Winston, though he was born in the Fench West Indies. He talked of his Dominican Republic-born mother and British-born father’s great love for decades, and of his father’s determination to come to America with his wife and five sons.
How he is so proud of his brother, married to a Filipina, a very special woman who bless their family and now their son is a principal moving up the ranks, in charge of the school system. Imagine that to be blessed in this country and thanked me for entering “this arena of friendship.”
I introduced myself too and he talked of being bullied by classmates and even concocted a song, which he sang for me. “But it did not seem to have affected you as you became a school teacher,” a fact he shared earlier.
I told him I was bullied too, called fat growing up. Then, in his lovely Caribbean way, “But look at the beauty you are and even what’s inside of you.”
I accepted it with reverence and humility, “Ah, you are seeing God’s heart in me,” which I am carefully cultivating.”
We could not say goodbye quite yet, but my time was up as I have a 1215 mass and I still have 0.5 mile to get home.
I walked 2 miles in the morning heat and savored my new arena of friendship.
When I got home, my granddaughter asked me to make her mac and cheese. She got to the table, tasted it and burst into singing and clapping. Ah – what a joy she is!
This afternoon, a friend stopped by all the way from the Valley and dropped off Porto’s meat pies.
Joy in, joy multiplies.
Joy indeed multiplies! It starts with your inner beliefs first, then act on those beliefs to be more joys.
