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Strollerderby
A little girl praying in 1949
At dinner each night, my family says a blessing. We recite a short prayer of thanks, then go around the table sharing things we’re grateful for.
We’re not praying to a god or higher power. We’re recognizing the sacred in the everyday, embracing the magic of sitting together in health and safety sharing good food. We don’t need a Heavenly Father to hear our prayers. In fact I rarely think of them as prayers at all. We call them blessings.
For us, god is in the food we eat, the air we breathe and the sunshine we play in. But I like to think we’d pray even if we knew no one was listening. It’s the act of gathering in prayer that is sacred.
According to a 2-1 decision by the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, God is not religious. At least, not when teachers instruct children that ours is a nation “under God” on a daily basis. All across the state of California, schoolchildren line up every morning to profess their allegiance to the flag and the country “for which it stands”. In 1954, however, the official pledge was changed to include the phrase “under God.” A belief in God was a “characteristic and definitive factor in the American way of life,” claimed Reverend George Docherty in a sermon that spurred President Eisenhower to action to have the pledge modified.
Is it a fashion statement? An invitation to debate? Or just one of those things kids (and by kids, I mean anyone under 30) do to differentiate themselves from those who came before? Friedrich Nietzsche first wrote that “God is Dead” more than 125 years ago and I’m sure it stirred up some controversy back then. Fast forward to modern day Washington State and the sentiment is once again causing a stir — this time over a high school yearbook photo.
Lakshmi Tatma is pretty much like any 4-year-old. She’s a little bossy around new friends, likes to pay games with her brother, is a total daddy’s girl and just recently started school. The difference is Lakshmi was born with two torsos and 8 limbs. Oh, and she’s been worshipped as a God since birth.
I’ve always felt that the number one job of a parent, especially in the first dozen years or so of their lives, is to keep the kids alive. We don’t let them play in the middle of the street, we make sure they wear helmets, and we don’t let them eat laundry detergent (much). We teach them to blow on their soup, how to climb a tree safely, and perhaps even how to defend themselves if necessary. Everything we do is part and parcel of taking care of our kids and keeping them safe and secure and parents — good parents, anyway — take that charge very seriously. So why would any parent sit by and watch their child die?
Frank McCourt, the author of “Angela’s Ashes“, died on Sunday of cancer at the age of 78. “Angela’s Ashes” wasn’t published until he was 66; the L.A. Times describes him as a “late bloomer” of a writer.
Paula Abdul may not be back on “American Idol” next year. Oh. OH! Quelle horror. Seems she is “hurt.” And “angry.” Also very, very stupid. Two words Paula — Brian Dunkelman.
The Daily News says that there may be more Gubernatorial grotesqueries going on. (I know that’s probably not the right usage of the word “grotesquerie” but I liked the alliteration. Sorry.) Continue reading »
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