DOING A GREAT WORK
One day a few years ago, as my grandson was working on a Lego project with single-minded passion, he paused and said to me, “Hammy, I am doing a great work,” and I said to myself, Yes you are, and so is everything. The universe itself is an endless system of great works, from the falling of a single snowflake to the movements of the far-flung stars. These words I’m writing are doing the great work of unwrapping thoughts given to me like gifts, and the cars I hear on a nearby highway are heading somewhere on great missions, from finding a good cafe to saving a loved one’s life. We’re all engaged in grand enterprises. Our smallest thought, if we only realized it, requires earnest labor, and being able to type a single word is a little miracle. It’s a great work to give a greeting to someone, or to notice the sunshine on a sidewalk, or to set one foot in front of another, or to help hundreds of Lego pieces fit perfectly together – or to lovingly care for a beautiful garden of flowers, like Delycia, below, does day after day in this season of blossoms.
+ + + + +
WORK TO DO
(about Andy H., 70, Blessings, CT) One day, Andy saw a piece of paper posted on the wall beside his desk swaying in the currents from the furnace in the cellar. The paper was just above a furnace vent, and it flowed with the warm air, fluttering up and down and side to side with subtle, assorted motions. It seemed a sprightly piece of paper, one that pranced and pirouetted instead of staying impassively on the wall. Beside his silent, businesslike desk, this was a serious piece of paper, a fashionable and devoted dancer. Andy had work to do, and so did the dancing paper, and so did the day as it twirled and leaped along.
+ + + + +
Two magnetic poems on our fridge today …