Kindness 101

 The views from my windows are of great beauty. I think January is my favorite month. Of course, that will probably change when we turn the calendar to February, but for now the cold and snow give us pause in our day. Breathing in the cold, crisp winter air is a joy that not everyone can experience!

We are the fortunate ones. This winter is a bit different from last year! Last year ice fishing and ice skating on local lakes and ponds lasted for about two days. This week the lakes are dotted with fisherman on buckets or in shanties. I love driving by to see this fairy land at dusk as their lights gleam like winter fireflies.

And yet. So many are not so fortunate. I follow the fires in California just as you do. I weep over the stories and cheer on the heroes…the firefighters who are coming from all over the world to lend a hand. I cannot imagine in any way working 16 hours and day in the heat and the stress, sleeping for a few hours and then willingly go back to the job. I have traveled to California quite a few times. Sometimes by plane, but often by train. Several times I have taken the coastal train high up on the bluffs of the highway on the edge of the Pacific Ocean. I have looked for the green flash more than once, but with no luck.

I personally know the grief of losing all that we once had or knew. When Jonah was a baby, Aaron was living in the farmhouse. One dark night in November it burned to the ground. I was on Ocracoke at the time and made the journey back home as did my sons. We walked through the rubble in old boots watching where we stepped in disbelief that our house was gone. We built that house as a family. The fire destroyed all but our stories and memories. Yet, while walking through the rubble, we came across a cardboard box which was somewhat intact. That was so strange as everything was gone. I opened the charred box to find three copies of “Oh, the Places You Go,” by Dr. Seuss. I had purchased one for each of my sons for their high school graduation. I wrote to each one of them in the front of the book. My handwriting was still legible. I stood there in the embers as I read to them. Of course, I cried.

Once the news was out, my front porch, my garage, and my living room were full of donations. It was a complete and generous outpouring of love in this town. Now we are faced with helping out. There are many organizations in which to give money. Please research the ones you feel are best for you. There is always the Red Cross. Does it matter that we do not know the folks? Of course, it doesn’t. We are generous. We are kind. We take care of one another. Dipping into our coffers will help those in need and fill our own hearts with love and kindness. And please, let’s not forget our friends in need from the October hurricane. There is still so much needed in the Appalachia area. Your support is needed and welcomed there.

There are always needs at home as well. You know my friend, Jacob, from my writings. He has been my right-hand man with Mary Shelley, Poe Night, Trine University Theatre, and a wonderful friend. While I was gone, his family home burned to the ground. His parents and their pets made it to safety, but the house did not survive. They also are in need and a good place to help locally. By the way, my front porch has become the donation center for goods and for cash, should you want to help.

Over the past weekend, Youth Poet Laureate, Amanda Gorman wrote a poem entitled, “Smoldering Dawn.” She wrote this as a fund raiser for the California Fire Foundation. The last line goes like this, “To find the angels, all we need to do is look within ourselves.”

We are the angels. We are called upon to be kind. To be givers. To be there for others. Why else are we here?

So, my friends, give what you can to whomever you can. And if your only gift during this time is a prayer in the holy darkness, then you too are the angel.