My Little Cabin in the Woods

When I feel the outside world

Closing in on m

I go to my little cabin in the woods

When people want more than I can give

My little cabin awaits 

My cabin has a wooden table

And some comfortable chairs

Nothing fancy, just my style

I can watch the little birds

And the mighty trees

They speak to me, but want nothing

Just to be acknowledged 

They are my friends 

All they want is to give music

To a world that doesn’t hear

And shade to a world that doesn’t care

Richly blessed is the person that 

Takes these gifts and knows this joy 

How very happy I am 

In my little cabin in the woods 

A Little Redbird Story

 A friend and i were driving to a church retreat for the weekend.  It was about a 2 hour drive.  We were the first ones to get there, so we looked for the best cabin.  We found one that had a swing on a tree in front of the cabin.  We agreed that we would get on the swing before the retreat was over.  

Just then, a redbird appeared in front of us.  We looked at each other and couldn’t believe that this beautiful bird had come to greet us!  I said “can you believe this?”  We stood in silence watching the little bird.  Then it flew away.  I asked “do you think he’ll come back when it’s time to leave?”  We thought “nah, not gonna happen!”

So we got busy with unpacking and inspecting the camp grounds.  People started arriving, and there was stuff to take care of.  

We had a wonderful weekend, talked to people, did retreat work, and had a wonderful, spirit- filled time.

Then it was time to pack up and leave.  I reminded my friend about the swing, and, like a couple of little kids, swang to our hearts’ content.  Then we remembered the red bird.  I said “I wonder if our little friend will show up to bid us goodbye”. Once again, we looked at each other and thought “how could that happen again?”

We gathered our suitcases and stood on the porch.  We both thought “oh well, that is too good to be true.”  Just then, the little bird showed up!  

This true story brings tears to my eyes!  The wonder of nature, the wonder of God!

A homeless man

He had the bluest eyes.  For a brief moment, i saw him, but I had to look away.  He wasn’t old, but his body looked old.  He was shaking, and could barely walk, even with a cane.  I wanted to do something for him, but I didn’t know what.  My fear and my brain told me to stay away.  I went into the store and bought a couple of things.  When I came out, he was gone.  Where did he go?  Does he have someone that will take care of him?  His time on earth is short, I’m afraid.
Why didn’t I talk to him, ask him if he needed help.  Offered him some water.
All I could do was say a prayer for him.  I hope he’s ok.  O

Food

This morning I was reading an article on food in a well-respected journal.

The emphasis was on the San Antonio food scene.

I've always wondered why my hometown has not been given the spotlight it deserves.  Whenever we have guests from out-of-town, they always mention that they would love to go to a Mexican food restaurant.  We have a lot of good Mexican food restaurants, some Tex-Mex, and some "authentic" from the interior of Mexico.

My paternal grandmother made the best móle, and, really, everything she made was delicious.
My maternal grandmother always had a large pot of something  (usually soup) on the stove.  She always had a can of Dr. Pepper in her hands, that was her vice.  Tortillas were made every day, mostly flour, sometimes corn.  Always  delicious.  I always wondered if it was my young taste buds that made everything taste good, or was the food just good.  Anyway, I really enjoyed eating.  Little did I know how lucky I was, and that nothing lasts forever.

We frequently go to a nice, but casual little restaurant where the chef can be seen working hard to make his tasty creations.  It's funny, but, in the same building, there is a fancier restaurant upstairs.  But there, you get a lot more fancy food.  Downstairs, the french fries are to-die for, and my favorite, the bolognese.  My husband has an acid reflux problem, so he cannot eat the bolognese.  Oh, the problems of getting older!

Getting back to my original thought, the article mentions some worthy places to go have some good Barbecue, Mexican, Peruvian with a Chinese twist food.  Among others.

We are very fortunate to live in a city that retains its old-world feel, while developing into a food destination city.  I love my hometown.  I didn't always feel that way..

When to Interfere

I volunteer at a local hospital once a week.  It's a very rewarding experience, and I feel privileged to be able to do this. 
I see nurses, doctors and other hospital staff going about doing their job duties.  I am not part of the staff, so I try to not get in the way of these professionals doing their jobs. 

Today, though, I saw a very interesting thing going on..  I could hear a doctor saying the word "amputation" to a patient that seemed to be barely able to sit on the side of the bed.  I could only see the patient's back. I saw no one else, like family, there with the patient.  I could tell that he was Hispanic and a member of the "underclass."  I try not to judge, but to only describe so that you can get a visual image.  From that brief amount of time, I could tell that the doctor was trying his best to convince the patient that this was the best solution for his health problem.  I passed that scene, and went on to my next patient to see..After I finished, I had to backtrack, hence, I passed once again by the room where the doctor was having the conversation (if you want to call it that) with the patient.  I wanted to go and see if I could translate, or at least, try to advocate for this patient. 

Now, I understand that there are only so many solutions for certain diagnoses, but I still feel guilty for not going into that room to see if I could at least have some sympathetic words for that poor patient who was about to lose a part of his body.  I am a volunteer for the Pastoral office of that certain hospital, so it is part of my job to say some kind words of reassurance to the patients on my list.  I could have prayed for him and patted him on the shoulder to let him know he's not alone.  I can still pray for him now.  I do hope he's OK, and , by some miracle, not need to have the amputation.

Small Victories

About 6 months ago, I would look in the mirror, not liking what I saw. But I was in denial. My jeans were getting tighter, but I kept thinking: I will exercise more, someday.

This scene has been played out often in my life; often enough for me to consider it a pattern. I just knew that, like before, I needed an incentive to start doing something about it.

So, the first thing I did was to face reality. I wanted to lose 5 pounds. 10 would be better, but I would start with 5. What did it for me, being Catholic, was that the beginning of Lent was just around the corner. I started to think about what I was going to "give up" for Lent. There has been a lot of emphasis lately by the church to let us know that we really do not have to "give up" anything, but we should definitely think of sacrificing something that is pleasurable to us. Nevertheless, as a lifelong Catholic, I started thinking about what would I sacrifice for Lent. I decided, and it wasn't easy, to give up sweets, mainly dessert-type sweets. That was a good start, I have only messed up once, so far.

That was enough of an incentive for me to tell myself "no more midnight snacks, or eating anything after dinner." The hardest part was the first few days. I was used to grabbing the bag of chips and dips, or whatever else was around. Usually this was between 8-10 PM.

A little bit of history: My mother, 80 years old, and mostly bedridden, needed someone to help her in the evenings after her caregiver left. I would go to my mother's house to tend to her needs, which was not easy. I learned a lot of nursing care, and many a time I would feel glad that I never finished my nursing school. And, to be fair, I got some help from my two sisters, and some from my brothers. Being the one with the most flexible schedule, I felt it was my duty. A labor of love. Now, after some serious medical setbacks for my Mom, we had to look at putting her into a skilled nursing facility. It seems to be working out, and she gets the care she needs from professionals.
I will also say that I love my Mom, but it still wasn't easy. I would feel so stressed sometimes, that I would "reward" myself when I came home, with a glass of wine, which I felt, tasted better accompanied by some snack. Thank God that I never have had the capacity for more than one, maybe two glasses of wine. Who knows what would have happened to me if I had been able to handle more than that!

So, back to my diet. I, so far, have been good about not eating after dinner. Once or twice, when hunger pangs would hit, I would eat some grapes, or an orange.

But, I'm happy to say that my clothes fit better now. I guess I have lost a couple of pounds, though I don't weigh myself often. The way my clothes fit tells me more than what the scale says.

Maintaining your weight is a lifelong process. It never gets easier. I hope to make it a habit.

Japan

How we view the world makes us who we are. For instance, some people just see what's happening right around them. Some see what's happening in their house, their family, and that is their view of the world, the world they live in.

I don't know why, but I have always been in tune with what's happening in the whole world, our planet. I started reading the newspaper at age 10. From then on, I've realized that what happens elsewhere, though it may be far away, directly or indirectly affects me. I think that what happens in one part of the world affects all of us, some of us are just more keenly aware of the meaning of it all.

One example, of course is 9/11. It was like a cloud, a grey cloud descended on the world, and made us focus on good and evil. We realized how vulnerable we all are. We experienced a collective depression, because we knew that we are not in control of our surroundings. It's as if we were little kids and the schoolyard bully decided he just doesn't like you. For no reason at all. A totally helpless feeling, because we knew that no matter what we did, the bully just didn't like us, and would not be happy until we were totally destroyed.

The earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear catastrophe were caused by Mother Nature, I don't know who decided that nature was a female, but nontheless, this female is fierce. The song "I am woman hear me roar" comes to mind, but not very appropriate here.

I don't know what other people do, but I pray that the whole situation will not be as damaging to the environment and the people in Japan (and elsewhere in the world.) I pray all the time. In the last few years, there has been very little good news. Turn on the TV, watch the latest world happenings on the internet, and just in conversations with friends and acquaintances, the current events seem to be mostly bad.

As a believer in God, I know that He gave us hope as a gift. We must not lose hope. I am a great believer in the resiliency of the human being, and I know we will, and the people of Japan will, rise above the way things are now.

It's funny how even 9/11 has faded somewhat from our memories, thanks to the passage of time. I think that every time there is a new cataclysm or disaster, we think about the end of the world. But the world keeps going on and so do we. Mother Nature renews and rebuilds itself.

The Bible says that no one knows when the end of the world will be, only God Himself knows. So I try to remember that.

I pray for the people of Japan, in the meantime.