All I want to convert you to is who and what you really are. - Swami Kriyananda.
Friday, May 29, 2020
Wednesday, May 27, 2020
O' Lord, let Thy will be done, Thy work be accomplished. Fortify our devotion, increase our surrender, give us light upon the path. We erect Thee within us as our supreme Master that Thou mayst become supreme Master of all the earth. Our speech is still ignorant; enlighten it. Our aspiration is still imperfect, purify it. Our action is still powerless; make it effective. - The Mother.
Tuesday, May 26, 2020
Monday, May 25, 2020
Sunday, May 24, 2020
Saturday, May 23, 2020
What is God and Why?
By Pranab Kumar Bhattacharya
God is a conscious Being, who is present everywhere, who is all-powerful, who is all-knowing and who is all-perfect.
He cannot be recognized by the mind, understood by the intellect, known by the reason; He has to be felt in the heart.
God expresses Himself through whatever is true, whatever is beautiful, and whatever is good.
He wants to express Himself through many. That is why He has created trees and plants, pests and insects, birds and beasts, animals and men, and this whole universe. Through the evolutionary process, He is taking everything towards His perfection, so that ultimately, everything becomes Himself. In this whole universe, good or bad, whatever is happening, whatever is becoming, all are His will, His play, and His plan.
His presence can be felt everywhere and in everything; everything is a part of Himself, everything is moving under His law, and in accordance with His wishes.
Through the evolutionary process, man has reached such a stage that he can be conscious of God within himself. That is why in the Divine's play, he has a special role, a special responsibility. When everything else in the universe, including nature, moves unconsciously through the evolutionary process, man alone, if he so desires, can realize God within himself, make his will one with His will, go through the evolutionary process consciously, realize within himself God's truth, God's beauty, and God's goodness, and establish them in the material world.
Then in this play of God, man's special role is to realize God and himself, make his will one with the Divine's will, express Him through all his efforts, and make his life and his surroundings God-pervaded.
Friday, May 22, 2020
There was a Master come unto the earth, born in the holy land of Indiana, raised in the mystical hills east of Fort Wayne.
The Master learned of this world in the public schools of Indiana, and as he grew, in his trade as a mechanic of automobiles.
But the Master had learnings from other lands and other schools, from other lives that he had lived. He remembered these, and remembering became wise and strong so that others saw his strength and came to him for counsel.
The Master believed that he had the power to help himself and all mankind, and as he believed so it was for him so that others saw his power and came to him to be healed of their troubles and their many diseases.
The Master believed that it is well for any man to think upon himself as a son of God, and as he believed, so it was, and the shops and garages where he worked became crowded and jammed with those who sought his learning and his touch, and the streets outside with those who longed only that the shadow of his passing might fall upon them and change their lives.
It came to pass, because of the crowds, that the several foremen and shop managers bid the Master leave his tools and go his way, for so tightly was he thronged that neither he nor other mechanics had room to work upon the automobiles.
So it was that he went into the countryside, and people following began to call him Messiah, and worker of miracles; and as they believed, it was so.
If a storm passed as he spoke, not a raindrop touched a listener’s head; the last of the multitude heard his words as clearly as the first, no matter lightning nor thunder in the sky about. And always he spoke to them in parables.
And he said unto them, “Within each of us lies the power of our consent to health and to sickness, to riches and to poverty, to freedom and to slavery. It is we who control these and not another.”
A mill-man spoke and said, “Easy words for you, Master, for you are guided as we are not, and need not toil as we toil. A man has to work for his living in this world.”
The Master answered and said, “Once there lived a village of creatures along the bottom of a great crystal river.
“The current of the river swept silently over them all - young and old, rich and poor, good and evil, the current going its own way, knowing only its own crystal self.
“Each creature in its own manner clung tightly to the twigs and rocks of the river bottom, for clinging was their way of life, and resisting the current what each had learned from birth.
“But one creature said at last, ‘I am tired of clinging. Though I cannot see it with my eyes, II trust that the current knows where it is going. I shall let go, and let it take me where it will. Clinging, I shall die of boredom.’
“The other creatures laughed and said, ‘Fool! Let go, and that current you worship will throw you tumbled and smashed across the rocks, and you will die quicker than boredom!’
“But the one heeded them not, and taking a breath did let go, and at once was tumbled and smashed by the current across the rocks.
“Yet in time, as the creature refused to cling again, the current lifted him free from the bottom, and he was bruised and hurt no more.
“And the creatures downstream, to whom he was a stranger, cried, ‘See a miracle! A creature like ourselves, yet he flies! See the Messiah, come to save us all!’
“And the one carried in the current said, ‘I am no more Messiah than you. The river delights to lift us free, if only we dare let go. Our true work is this voyage, this adventure.’
“But they cried the more, ‘Saviour!’ all the while clinging to the rocks, and when they looked again he was gone, and they were left alone making legends of a Saviour.”
And it came to pass when he saw that the multitude thronged him the more day on day, tighter and closer and fiercer than ever they had when he saw that they pressed him to heal them without rest, and feed them always with his miracles, to learn for them and to live their lives, he went alone that day unto a hilltop apart, and there he prayed.
And he said in his heart, Infinite Radian Is, if it be thy will, let this cup pass from me, let me lay aside this impossible task. I cannot live the life of one other soul, yet ten thousand cry to me for life. I’m sorry I allowed it all to happen. If it be thy will, let me go back to my engines and my tools and let me live as other men.
And a voice spoke to him on the hilltop, a voice neither male nor female, loud nor soft, a voice infinitely kind. And the voice said unto him, “Not my will, but Thine be done. For what is thy will is mine for thee. Go thy way as other men, and be thou happy on the earth.”
And hearing, the Master was glad, and gave thanks, and came down from the hilltop humming a little mechanic’s song. And when the throng pressed him with its woes, beseeching him to heal for it and learn for it and feed it nonstop from his understanding and to entertain it with his wonders, he smiled upon the multitude and said pleasantly unto them, “I quit.”
For a moment the multitude was stricken dumb with astonishment.
And he said unto them, “If a man told God that he wanted most of all to help the suffering world, no matter the price to himself, and God answered and told him what he must do, should the man do as he is told?”
“Of course, Master!” cried the many. “It should be (a) pleasure for him to suffer the tortures of hell itself, should God ask for it!”
“No matter what those tortures, nor how difficult the task?”
“Honor to be hanged, glory to be nailed to a tree and burned if so be that God has asked,” said they.
“And what would you do,” the Master said unto the multitude, “if God spoke directly to your face and said, ‘I COMMAND THAT YOU BE HAPPY IN THE WORLD, AS LONG AS YOU LIVE.’ What would you do then?”
And the multitude was silent, not a voice, not a sound was heard upon the hillsides, across the valleys where they stood.
And the Master said unto the silence, “In the path of our happiness shall we find the learning for which we have chosen this lifetime. So it is that I have learned this day, and choose to leave you now to walk your own path, as you please.”
And he went his way through the crowds and left them, and he returned to the everyday world of men and machines.
(An extract from Illusions - The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah by Richard Bach)
Thursday, May 21, 2020
To walk on the path you must have dauntless intrepidity, you must never turn back upon yourself with this mean, petty, weak, ugly movement that fear is. Indomitable courage, perfect sincerity, total self-giving (attitude) to the extent that you do not calculate or bargain, you do not give with the idea of receiving, you do not offer yourself with the intention of being protected, you do not have a faith that needs proofs, — this is indispensable for advancing on the path, this alone can shelter you against all dangers. - The Mother.
Tuesday, May 19, 2020
Monday, May 18, 2020
Why are you so dejected? If you were really unfit to realize the Self in this life, you could not have come to this place at all. The power that drew you here will make you realize that Self. If not today, then at some other time it is bound to fulfill its commitment. There is no reason why you should be dejected. - Sri Ramana Maharishi.
Sunday, May 17, 2020
It is certain that for someone who has desires, when his desires are not satisfied, it is a sign the Divine Grace is with him and wants, through experience, to make him progress rapidly, by teaching him that a willing and spontaneous surrender to the Divine Will is a much surer way to be happy in peace and light than the satisfaction of any desire. The Mother.
Friday, May 15, 2020
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
Monday, May 11, 2020
By Sri Aurobindo
All Nature is taught in radiant ways to move,
All beings are in myself embraced.
O fiery boundless Heart of joy and love,
How art thou beating in a mortal’s breast!
It is Thy rapture flaming through my nerves
And all my cells and atoms thrill with Thee;
My body thy vessel is and only serves
As a living wine-cup of Thy ecstasy.
I am the center of Thy golden light
And its vast and vague circumference,
Thou art my soul great, luminous and white
And Thine my mind and will and glowing sense.
Thy spirit’s infinite breath I feel in me;
My life is a throb of Thy eternity.
All Nature is taught in radiant ways to move,
All beings are in myself embraced.
O fiery boundless Heart of joy and love,
How art thou beating in a mortal’s breast!
It is Thy rapture flaming through my nerves
And all my cells and atoms thrill with Thee;
My body thy vessel is and only serves
As a living wine-cup of Thy ecstasy.
I am the center of Thy golden light
And its vast and vague circumference,
Thou art my soul great, luminous and white
And Thine my mind and will and glowing sense.
Thy spirit’s infinite breath I feel in me;
My life is a throb of Thy eternity.
Saturday, May 09, 2020
There Is A Candle In Your Heart
There is a candle in your heart,
ready to be kindled.
There is a void in your soul,
ready to be filled.
You feel it, don’t you?
You feel the separation
from the Beloved.
Invite Him to fill you up,
embrace the fire.
Remind those who tell you otherwise that
Love comes to you of its own accord,
and the yearning for it cannot be learned in any school.
ready to be kindled.
There is a void in your soul,
ready to be filled.
You feel it, don’t you?
You feel the separation
from the Beloved.
Invite Him to fill you up,
embrace the fire.
Remind those who tell you otherwise that
Love comes to you of its own accord,
and the yearning for it cannot be learned in any school.
Friday, May 08, 2020
Thursday, May 07, 2020
All religions, all this singing
One Song.
The differences are just
Illusion and vanity.
The Sun's light looks
A little different on this wall than
It does on that wall,
And a lot different on this other one,
But it's still one light.
We have borrowed these clothes,
These time and place personalities
From a light,
And when we praise,
We're pouring them back in.
(An Excerpt from One Song: A New Illuminated Rumi by Michael Green)
Wednesday, May 06, 2020
Tuesday, May 05, 2020
Sunday, May 03, 2020
Saturday, May 02, 2020
Thursday, April 30, 2020
Wednesday, April 29, 2020
I once knew an Indian saint, half of whose body, in his earlier years, had been covered with sores. His diabetic illness had been so acute that he had found it difficult to sit still at one time for more than fifteen minutes. But his spiritual aspiration had been undesirable. "Lord" he prayed, "wilt Thou come into my broken temple?" With ceaseless command of the will, the saint had gradually become able to sit in the lotus posture daily for eighteen hours, engrossed in the ecstatic trance. "And," he told me, "at the end of three years I found the Infinite Light blazing within me. Rejoicing in Its splendor, I forgot the body. Later I saw that it had become whole through the Divine Mercy."
(An extract from Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda)
Monday, April 27, 2020
Sunday, April 26, 2020
Saturday, April 25, 2020
A saint once was set upon and badly beaten by a band of ruffians. His brother disciple later found him, lying unconscious by the road. They carried him back to their ashram and nursed him lovingly back to consciousness. One of them was pouring a little milk into his mouth when the saint started to open his eyes.
"Do you recognize who it is that is feeding you?" his brother enquired gently.
"Yes," said the saint with a blissful smile. "The same One who beat me earlier!"
(An extract from The Art and Science of Raja Yoga by Swami Kriyananda)
(An extract from The Art and Science of Raja Yoga by Swami Kriyananda)
Friday, April 24, 2020
Thursday, April 23, 2020
Tuesday, April 21, 2020
Just beneath the shadows of this life is God’s wondrous Light. The universe is a vast temple of His presence. When you meditate, you will find doors opening to Him everywhere. When you have communion with Him, not all the ravages of the world can take away that Joy and Peace. - Paramahansa Yogananda
Sunday, April 19, 2020
Kabir was a great 16th-century saint whose large following included Hindus and Moslems. At the time of Kabir's death, the disciples quarreled over the manner of conducting funeral ceremonies. The exasperated master rose from his final sleep and gave his instructions. "Half of my remains should be buried with Moslem rites," he said. "Let the other half be removed with a Hindu sacrament." He then vanished. When the disciples removed the shroud that had covered his body, nothing was found but a beautiful array of flowers. Half of these were obediently buried in Maghar, by the Moslems, who revere his shrine to this day. The other half was cremated with Hindu ceremonies in Banaras. A temple, Kabir Cheura, was built on the site and attracts immense numbers of pilgrims.
In his youth, Kabir was approached by two disciples who wanted minute intellectual guidance along the mystic path. The master responded simply:
Path presupposes distance;
If He be near, no path needest thou at all.
Verily it maketh me smile
To hear of a fish in water athirst!
(An extract from Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda)
Friday, April 17, 2020
Thursday, April 16, 2020
Wednesday, April 15, 2020
Tuesday, April 14, 2020
Monday, April 13, 2020
Sunday, April 12, 2020
Saturday, April 11, 2020
Friday, April 10, 2020
Thursday, April 09, 2020
Wednesday, April 08, 2020
Monday, April 06, 2020
Sunday, April 05, 2020
Saturday, April 04, 2020
Never let life beat you down. Beat life! If you have a strong will you can overcome all difficulties. Affirm, even during trials: “Danger and I were born together, and I am more dangerous than danger!” This is a truth you should always remember; apply it and you will see that it works. Don’t behave like a cringing mortal being. You are a child of God! - Paramahansa Yogananda.
Everything the Lord has created is to try us, to bring out the buried soul immortality within us. That is the adventure of life, the one purpose of life. And everyone’s adventure is different, unique. You should be prepared to deal with all problems of health, mind, and soul by commonsense methods and faith in God, knowing that in life or death your soul remains conquered. - Paramahansa Yogananda.
Friday, April 03, 2020
You must never lose courage.
Divine mother sent me to pilot you out of the clouds of your mind. Everybody's difficulty is different, and he or she has to win that test of karma and Divine mother.
Overcome all by constant inward calling on God and utmost devotion in words, thought, action, and obedience to Guru. Your troubles I do not mind. I will never give up on my job with you. It is better to conquer evil and no go on living it forever. Never for a moment identify yourself with momentary flashes of error. Have no fear, even when I am gone and no longer visible to your eyes. You will never be alone. I may not scold you then, but I shall ever be with you, and through Divine Mother guard you from all harm, and will constantly whisper to you guidance through your loving self.
So do not make life discouraged and tired, but be ever, but be ever interested in doing for Divine Mother, no matter if wars, sickness and death dance around you. That is the secret of victory over delusion and all troubles. Be cut to pieces, but never give up. Be a divine leech - suck at the blood of wisdom even though torn to bits. A smooth life is not a victorious one. And I will give you lots of good karma, so you will get through. I will not only ever forgive you, but ever lift you up no matter how many times you fall. Keep unceasingly trying to conquer that not only I invisibly help you, but visibly through many here. Divine Mother will help you win, through your own efforts and the blessings of the great Gurus. I am not building a mansion for you or giving you riches that will perish, but I am making an imperishable home with all riches for you in my Divine Mother's mansion.
Unceasing blessings,
Paramahansa Yogananda.
Thursday, April 02, 2020
Wednesday, April 01, 2020
Tuesday, March 31, 2020
Monday, March 30, 2020
Sunday, March 29, 2020
The master said there is one thing in this world that must never be forgotten. If you were to forget everything else but were not to forget this, there would be no cause to worry; while if you remembered, performed and attended to everything else, but forgot that one thing, you would, in fact, have done nothing whatsoever. It is as if a king had sent you to a country to carry out one specific task. You go to the country and you perform a hundred other tasks, but if you have not performed the task you were sent for, it is as if you have performed nothing at all. So man has come into the world for a particular task, and that is his purpose. If he doesn't perform it, he will have done nothing. - Rumi.
Thursday, March 26, 2020
Tuesday, March 24, 2020
Sunday, March 22, 2020
He is only wise who devotes himself to realizing, not reading only, the ancient revelations. Solve all your problems through meditation. Exchange unprofitable speculations for actual God-communion. Clear your mind of dogmatic theological debris; let in the fresh healing waters of direct perception. Attune yourself to the active inner Guidance; the Divine Voice has the answer to every dilemma of life. Though man's ingenuity for getting himself into trouble appears to be endless, the Infinite Succour is no less resourceful. - Lahiri Mahasaya.
Remember that you belong to no one and that no one belongs to you. Reflect that someday you will suddenly have to leave everything in this world - so make the acquaintance of God now. Prepare yourself for the coming astral journey of death by riding daily in a balloon of divine perception. Through delusion, you are perceiving yourself as a bundle of flesh and bones, which at best is a nest of troubles. Meditate unceasingly that you quickly behold yourself as the infinite essence, free from every form of misery. Cease being a prisoner of the body; using the secret of Kriya, learn to escape into Spirit. - Lahiri Mahasaya.
Wednesday, March 18, 2020
Tuesday, March 17, 2020
The Decaying Monastery
By Jim Ryan
The old monastery had fallen upon hard times. Once a great order, with wealth and lands, now things were bad and there were only the old Abbot and four elderly monks remaining; clearly it was a dying order. In the surrounding woods, there was the retreat of a local Rabbi, from the nearby town. The Abbot, thinking that there wasn't much time left for his order, decided to visit his old friend the Rabbi, and ask him if by some chance he could offer any advice that might save the monastery.
The Rabbi welcomed the Abbot, but on hearing of his plight, could only commiserate with the Abbot, agreeing that certainly, the spirit has gone out of the people. It was the same for him, very few visited the synagogue also. So both shared their fears, ate, and prayed together. As he was leaving, the Rabbi expressed his sorrow at not being able to give the Abbot the help he wanted, but commented at their parting that one of them at the monastery was the Messiah!
On his return to the monastery, the Abbot relayed what had occurred to the other monks, adding the very puzzling statement about the Rabbi declaring that one of them was the Messiah. In the days, weeks, and months that passed, the old monks thought long and hard about this strange message. The Messiah is one of us? Which one? Could it be the Abbot? He had been in charge for a long time and was a devout man. On the other hand, Brother Thomas was so holy, he was always in prayer and contemplation. Or Brother Eldred, he seems to be always right. What about Brother Phillip, so peaceful and kind, always at hand to help? And each even thought about himself, could he be the Messiah? As an ordinary monk, each tried his best, but to be the Messiah, surely not!
As they contemplated in this manner, the old monks began to treat each other with extraordinary respect on the off chance that one amongst them might be the Messiah. This aura of tremendous respect that began to surround the old monks seemed to radiate out from and permeate the atmosphere of the place. There was something strangely compelling and attractive about this place. Hardly knowing why, many visitors started to come to the old monastery and its beautiful grounds, to picnic, to play, to pray. They began to tell their friends, and they bought others to this special place.
Then it happened that some of the younger men who came started to talk more and more with the old monks. After a while one asked if he could join, then another, and another. So within a few years, the monastery had once again become a thriving order and a vibrant center of light and spirituality, all thanks to the Rabbi's gift.
Monday, March 16, 2020
Sunday, March 15, 2020
To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded. - Emerson.
Saturday, March 14, 2020
Friday, March 13, 2020
Thursday, March 12, 2020
Wednesday, March 11, 2020
Tuesday, March 10, 2020
Monday, March 09, 2020
Sunday, March 08, 2020
Friday, March 06, 2020
Wednesday, March 04, 2020
Sunday, March 01, 2020
Wednesday, February 26, 2020
Tuesday, February 25, 2020
Monday, February 24, 2020
Friday, February 21, 2020
Words from the Heart
By Bobbie Lippman
Most people need to hear those "three little words." Once in a while, they hear them just in time.
I met Connie the day she was admitted to the hospice ward, where I worked as a volunteer. Her husband, Bill, stood nervously nearby as she was transferred from the gurney to the hospital bed. Although Connie was in the final stages of her fight against cancer, she was alert and cheerful. We got her settled in. I finished marking her name on all the hospital supplies she would be using, then asked if she needed anything.
"Oh yes," she said, "would you please show me how to use the TV? I enjoy the soaps so much and I don't want to get behind on what's happening." Connie was a romantic. She loved soap operas, romance novels and movies with a good love story. As we became acquainted, she confided how frustrating it was to be married 32 years to a man who often called her "a silly woman."
"Oh, I know Bill loves me," she said, "but he has never been one to say he loves me, or send cards to me." She sighed and looked out the window at the trees in the courtyard. "I'd give anything if he'd say 'I love you,' but it's just not in his nature."
Bill visited Connie every day. In the beginning, he sat next to the bed while she watched the soaps. Later, when she began sleeping more, he paced up and down the hallway outside her room. Soon, when she no longer watched television and had fewer waking moments, I began spending more of my volunteer time with Bill.
He talked about having worked as a carpenter and how he liked to go fishing. He and Connie had no children, but they'd been enjoying retirement by traveling until Connie got sick. Bill could not express his feelings about the fact that his wife was dying.
One day, over coffee in the cafeteria, I got him on the subject of women and how we need romance in our lives; how we love to get sentimental cards and love letters.
"Do you tell Connie you love her?" I asked (knowing his answer), and he looked at me as if I was crazy.
"I don't have to," he said. "She knows I do!"
"I'm sure she knows," I said, reaching over and touching his hands — rough, carpenter's hands that were gripping the cup as if it were the only thing he had to hang onto — "but she needs to hear it, Bill. She needs to hear what she has meant to you all these years. Please think about it."
We walked back to Connie's room. Bill disappeared inside, and I left to visit another patient. Later, I saw Bill sitting by the bed. He was holding Connie's hand as she slept. The date was February 12.
Two days later I walked down the hospice ward at noon. There stood Bill, leaning up against the wall in the hallway, staring at the floor. I already knew from the head nurse that Connie had died at 11 A.M.
When Bill saw me, he allowed himself to come into my arms for a long hug. His face was wet with tears and he was trembling. Finally, he leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath.
"I have to say something," he said. "I have to say how good I feel about telling her." He stopped to blow his nose. "I thought a lot about what you said, and this morning I told her how much I loved her...and loved being married to her. You shoulda seen her smile!"
I went into the room to say my own good-bye to Connie. There, on the bedside table, was a large Valentine card from Bill. You know, the sentimental kind that says, "To my wonderful wife...I love you."
Why Coaches Really Coach
By William T. Brooks
It was in July. After a hard recruiting season and coming off a particularly tough playing season, it had been an unusually draining year. As head football coach at Canisius College in Buffalo, New York, I had taken on an almost impossible task two seasons previously: heading a football program where there had been no such program for over 25 years. After beating the bushes and visiting what seemed to be an endless array of high schools and student-athletes' homes, I had assembled what was to be the finest group of incoming talent I had ever recruited.
Suddenly I was shaken from my self-imposed reflection. My secretary informed me that there was a young man who insisted on seeing me — not requesting, but insisting in a loud and pushy way. I asked her if he looked like a "football player" (big, mean and confident). "No, he looks like a guy who is coming to play, party and maybe study once in a while," she said.
I asked her to tell the boy I'd see him, find out what position he would like to play.
She returned within 30 seconds. "He's five-foot-eleven, 165 pounds and plays defensive end. He'll never make it." Both of our returning defensive ends were over 225 pounds. Each was over six feet three inches tall and had been a two-year starter.
As any college football coach will tell you, a good percentage of your time is taken up with "wanna-be" athletes who insist on playing until it is actually time to show up for practice. I braced myself for the usual drill. But there was no way to prepare me for what was about to happen. Not only for the next 30 seconds...but for the rest of my life. I got halfway out of my office when I was greeted by a veritable avalanche of enthusiasm.
"Hello, Coach Brooks. My name is Michael Gee. Spelled G-E-E. I'll bet you never heard of me. But you will. I guarantee it!"
I said, "You're right I have no idea who you are or, frankly, why you're even here. We've finished our recruiting and we start practice in less than six weeks. Our roster is closed. I'm sorry, but..."
"Coach, I've researched it already. Football is a student activity. I've applied and been accepted as a freshman. I want to go out for the team. And you have to let me. I know the rules, Coach, but let me tell you why I can help you.
"I was a pre-season pick last year as an all-conference player. I started the season. I was always tired, always run down and I couldn't put much pressure on my leg. I went to the doctor. The news wasn't good. I had a malignant tumor in my thigh. But it's okay now, Coach. I promise. Chemotherapy and rehabilitation have cleaned it up. I've even been working out. Coach, I know I can help you. I guarantee it! I can even run-up to a mile without stopping."
I was really taken aback by all of this. My first response was to insist on a doctor's release. He gave it to me. I then asked if it was okay with his parents. He gave me a letter from them. He had me.
As it turned out, Michael Gee had me for the next four years. More correctly, I was lucky to have him. Three games into his freshman year, he was a starter. He led the team in sacks. He led the squad in tackles. Our inspirational leader, Michael became team captain. He even became an All-American! Besides, he was a dean's list student and active in every phase of campus life.
And Michael Gee savored life. When I was fortunate enough to win my 50th career victory, Mike Gee was the first player to congratulate me. When we beat our biggest rival, Mike Gee hoisted me to his shoulders. When we lost a tough game, Mike Gee was the first one to say, "Hey, Coach, it's just a game." Mike Gee was our son's first babysitter and the type of young man I hoped our son would become.
I often wonder what brought him into my life. I certainly don't have the answer. But I can tell you this. I learned a lot more from Mike Gee than I ever taught him, and that is a gift — the one that really does keep coaches coaching.
Thursday, February 20, 2020
My Mother's Riches
By Mary Kenyon
There must be something pretty special about a mother who can raise a daughter oblivious to the poverty she lived in. I didn't even know I was poor until I was in the second grade. I had everything I needed; nine brothers and sisters to play with, books to read, a friend in a handmade Raggedy Ann, and clean clothing my mother skillfully mended or often made herself. My hair was washed and braided by my mother each evening for school the next day, my brown shoes polished and shined. I was blissfully happy at school, loving the smell of the new crayons and the thick art paper the teacher handed out for projects. I soaked up knowledge like a sponge, earning the coveted privilege of taking messages to the principal's office one week.
I still remember the feeling of pride as I went by myself up the stairs of the school to deliver that day's lunch count. As I returned to my classroom, I met two older girls going back up the stairway. "Look, it's the poor girl," one whispered to the other, and they giggled. Face flaming red and choking back tears, the rest of the day was a blur.
Walking home that day, I tried to sort out the conflicting feelings that the girl's comments had wrought. I wondered why the girls thought I was poor. I looked down critically at my dress and for the first time noticed how faded it was, a crease at the hem visibly announcing that the dress was a hand-me-down. Even though the heavy boy's shoes were the only kind with enough support to keep me from walking on the sides of my feet, I was suddenly embarrassed that I wore ugly brown shoes.
By the time I got home, I felt sorry for myself. I felt as if I were entering a stranger's house, looking critically at everything. I saw the torn linoleum in the kitchen, smudged fingerprints on the old paint in the doorways. Dejected, I didn't respond to my mother's cheery greeting in the kitchen, where she prepared oatmeal cookies and powdered milk for a snack. I was sure the other girls in school didn't have to have powdered milk. I brooded in my room until suppertime, wondering how to approach the topic of poverty with my mother. Why hadn't she told me, I wondered. Why did I have to find out from someone else?
When I had worked up enough courage, I went out to the kitchen. "Are we poor?" I blurted out, somewhat defiantly. I expected her to deny it, defend it, or at least explain it away, so I wouldn't feel so bad about it. My mother looked at me contemplatively, not saying anything for a minute. "Poor?" she repeated, as she set down the paring knife she'd been peeling potatoes with. "No, we're not poor. Just look at all we have," she said, as she gestured toward my brothers and sisters playing in the next room.
Through her eyes, I saw the wood stove that filled the house with warmth, the colorful curtains and homemade rag rugs that decorated the house, the plate full of oatmeal cookies on the counter. Outside the kitchen window, I could see the wide-open space of the country that offered so much fun and adventure for 10 children. She continued, "Maybe some people would think we are poor in terms of money, but we have so much." And with a smile of contentment, my mother turned back to preparing a meal for her family, not realizing she had fed far more than an empty stomach that evening. She had fed my heart and soul.
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