Month: September 2025

My daughter’s children are grown and gone so her four bedroom home with a pool in the backyard suddenly seemed a bit too big for her and her husband. She had often dreamed of buying a townhome but never quite found one that suited her tastes. Nonetheless she kept looking because she had grown weary of keeping up a pool that nobody used anymore and all of those rooms that mostly sat empty. Then she stumbled upon townhomes that were not attached to one another, providing privacy while also creating the feel of “just enough” room for two people who will be heading into their senior years more quickly than any of us ever imagined. 

It is a beautifully crafted house in a tiny cul-de-sac arrangement with three other homes. The clever architecture allows for a large great room/ kitchen combination that looks out on a field of trees that grow on a plot of land too small for building so it will always be as lovely as it is today. It features a quite adequate master bedroom and two smaller rooms that will work well as guest rooms for when the kids come home or an office for my daughter. The best aspect of the place is found in the early morning and late afternoon views of sunrise and sunset. Each day nature’s gift seems to become more and more stunning in the quiet neighborhood tucked away from the world. 

My daughter had to carefully purge herself of excess furniture and belongings in order for the move to work. Suddenly she and those who helped her pack the essentials came to realize that over a lifetime we humans lucky enough to live a nice middle class life in the United States collect lots of things, much more than we ever need. Somehow at the time we think that we must have them but if forced to choose what is most important we realize the folly of many of our purchases. In truth we only require so much to live comfortably. 

Watching my daughter’s process of carefully choosing what she will take to the new house has given me an opportunity to rethink all of the many items that seem to take up every available space in my own home. Much of my excess centers around rescuing things from my mother-in-law and my mother when they died. Some of what I collected has great meaning and will stay with me until the day that I die or have to move to a smaller place in a retirement home. Items like a picture that hung over my mom’s sofa from the time that I was a child is a treasure. The vase that once belonged to my great grandmother will always travel with me until I find the daughter or grandchild who will understand its value as a family heirloom. The china and silver that my father purchased for Mama one piece at a time is proudly on display but much beyond that is really just stuff that I am more than willing to part with one day. 

When my father-in-law remarried I rescued so much that had belonged to my mother-in-law that my home is staining to contain it all. My daughter only recently remarked that I have too much furniture and it is true. I keep much of it with the idea that someone my want to take care of it one day but so far only a few pieces seem to attract any of the family members. There is a secretary that is the centerpiece of what I call my sitting room and an oak table that is well over one hundred years old. Some end tables might prove to be useful for someone one day but I’m not so sure about much of the rest, including multiple sets of china that I never use.

We collect this and that as our lives go by. Some of it is meaningful beyond measure and some would mean little if we hauled it away. My father-in-law’s attic is still filled from one end to the other with boxes and furniture that he has forgotten that he has. The job of cleaning it out when he is gone will be daunting and according to all of the stories that I hear few young people want the old things and many antique stores are having trouble selling some items that were once desired. Somehow we humans, especially in America, generally have homes and plots of land large enough to store things away. We get more and more and more but use only a small percent of it. When we are gone our descendants don’t know quite what to do with it all. 

Sadly life is not filled with more than can ever be used for most people. While we are busy accumulating there are still people on this earth who are dying from hunger and want. If we were to whittle down our own needs and then set aside regular contributions to charitable causes our lives would be so much more meaningful. 

Perhaps my daughter has stumbled upon the right idea. She was happy to sell her home to a young couple with children. They were overjoyed to be able to purchase a home with a pool and so many rooms. They plan to raise their family in a neighborhood with excellent schools. it seems like a wonderful way for an older generation to provide for a younger one. 

An additional joy that was prompted by my daughter’s decision to keep only what she really needs or treasures came when she had to do something with the piano that has sat in her home unused for decades now. It had been given to her by her grandmother when she was only a child and she never quite took to learning how to play. Nonetheless she moved it from town to town, place to place where it sat like a relic, never making a sound. Because it would never have fit in the townhome she had to do something so she offered it for free online. A woman with two children who were learning to play with only a keyboard quickly asked to be rewarded the gift. When the lady came with her youngsters they sat on the bench and played the loveliest melodies that had come from the piano in years. The woman literally cried with joy at the realization that her budding pianists would have a wonderful instrument to refine their talent. My daughter cried with the joy of knowing that the piano would be loved. Everyone was happy

Giving all of that excess baggage away now rather than letting it turn to dust in attics and closets seems like an excellent idea. Even better is that my daughter will not leave her children with the enormous task of knowing what to do with all that she has left behind when her time on this earth arrives. We might all do well to consider what we really need and scale down now. We can donate it or have a gigantic garage sale or just give special pieces to those that we love. However we do it will make so much more sense than hoarding it until it becomes a nuisance rather than something that may bring great happiness to someone right now. It seems like a grand thing to do.   

Do your little bit of good where you are. It’s those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world. — Desmond Tutu

When I think back on my life I recall moments when it seemed as if the whole world was busy doing little bits of good. One of those times was in the immediate aftermath of the destruction of the Twin Towers in New York City. There was certainly a kind of nationwide sorrow and grieving in the United States, but at the same time people from everywhere made kind gestures to express their support. There were school children who wrote letters to the people of the city of New York and to the families who lost loved ones. Folks came from far and wide to help with the cleanup. Donations poured in. On the local front citizens of towns and neighborhoods pitched in the help each other. I often remember how my neighbors helped me clear debris from trees that fell down without even being asked. They saw me lugging bundles of sticks to the curb and silently joined in until the work was done. They asked for nothing in return but of course I understood my moral duty to be ready to do good for them.

The same kind of thing happened when Hurricane Harvey ravaged the city of Houston with historic floods. The Cajun Navy came with rescue boats. People used their fishing craft to bring people out of inundated neighborhoods. Food, water, and  household necessities arrived by the truckload. A group of celebrities from Los Angeles even held a telethon. When it came time to clean out the mud and muck that laid ruin to homes, complete strangers came in droves to work in ninety degree heat taking down soggy sheetrock and water soaked carpet. Schools received bundles of supplies to replace the once that were ruined in the rising water. It felt as though our city would make it back to normal with all of the love showered on us.

For a time the whole world rallied around the medical communities guiding us through the Covid 19 pandemic. Parades of cars drove through medical centers with signs signifying gratitude for the doctors and nurses. People rose to the occasion with videos of dancing and singing and music that lifted our spirits. Individuals delivered food to those who had to stay home. In most cases people wore their masks without too much complaint. It was wonderful while it lasted but it did not always stay that way. Once the virus was politicized a yawning gap opened up between people that has only grown wider and uglier over time.

I love it whenever people set aside their differences and come together for anyone who needs help. I revel in the idea of simply doing the right thing at the right time without judgement or irritation. We are at our best as people when we don’t take notice of race, religion, culture or sexual preferences in offering our little bits of good. We have more often than not understood that there are times when we must offer our time, our talents and our treasure to help those in need no matter who they are or where they may be. Such generosity has been a hallmark of my city and state and country for all of my life but somehow now I hear too many grinching that we should only have to take care of our own. Some seem to believe that it is not up to us to be the saviors of the entire world. They claim that we have enough to do in our own backyards and need not be concerned with the difficulties of strangers. 

I still believe that people are mostly good and that they will help those in need without questions. I live on a wonderful cul-de-sac in which we celebrate each other regularly. I know nothing about the political views of my neighbors but I do know that when a hurricane came through last summer we helped each other. I know that we check on each other, do little bits of good for each other. We have a blast on Halloween night handing out candy to kids who seem to come to our street from everywhere. We make cookies and goodies for each other at Christmastime. We don’t discuss our religious beliefs or worry about the color of each other’s skin or sexual preferences. We live in blissful harmony the way it should always be. 

I have grown weary of the constant bickering that is stirred up by our president. I dislike the idea of choosing one political power or way of thinking over another. This nation was built oncompromise. George Washington did not even want political parties. He feared what the concept might do to the freedoms of whichever group was not voted into office. He did not believe in the idea of pushing through legislation that did not consider all of the people. He hoped for a president who would be humble and wise and be open to differing ideas. He was adamant about  keeping clear divisions between the legislature, the Supreme Court and the executive branch. He envisioned a nation of people working for the common good of all citizens in pursuit of the ideals of the democratic republic. Such a government is dependent on little bits of good here and there coming together to make a difference in the world. 

I hope that we will get over our tendency as a voting public to elect people who are so one sided that they take delight in crushing those who do not walk in tandem with him. I long for a leader who will daily demonstrate a dedication to being good to everyone. We’ve had that before. Perhaps we will get sick enough of the chaos that is exhausting us and become a nation of generosity for everyone once again. 

This has been a difficult week for me which may seem counterintuitive given that I will be embarking on a dream trip this weekend. I suspect that I am reacting to old ghosts that I hide from the rest of the world most of the time. The feelings that have gut punched me this week have been a long time in coming and it somehow became important to finally let them our rather than stifling them like I have always been prone to do. 

I have not hidden my concern for the health of our nation and its democracy. From day one I have been appalled by so many things that our president, Donald Trump, has done. From my vantage point he is neither a hero nor an inspiring leader. Instead he reminds me of a petulant child who somehow believes that he has been given permission to bully anyone who dares to question what he is doing. The last many months since his inauguration have been exceedingly difficult for me because I have witnessed the cruelty that he espouses on a daily basis and I often wonder in the dead of night why so many Americans seem to be oblivious to the danger that he poses for our nation. 

I was disturbed by the assassination of Charlie Kirk on so many levels. I am not a violent person and I believe that most people are not. My feelings exploded into a confused mess of reactions starting with a feeling of knowing how horrific his death will be for his wife and his children. My personal experience of suddenly losing my father when he was only thirty three years old was devastating. I witnessed my mother’s grief and perhaps the beginning of a breakdown that would present itself in full blown bipolar disorder twelve years later. I remembered thinking that eight year old me had to forever take care of my little brothers who were only five and two years old. All of the old demons rose up inside me and I grieved for Charlie Kirk’s family and for my nation. 

I felt overwhelming disappointment as our president used this horrific occasion to strike out against anyone in our nation who did not feel a connection to either him or Charlie Kirk. His intent was to divide us even more than we already were. He stoked the flames of anger and outrage with accusations that did nothing to lower the temperature at a time when it would have been so appropriate to do so. He dishonored the very man whom he was purporting to honor. He even went so far as to distort the character and message of the late night talk show host and comedian, Jimmy Kimmel, by ascribing his own kind of hateful thinking to Kimmel. 

I never stayed up late enough to watch Jimmy Kimmel’s show but my understanding has always been that he is a kind soul. Even his response to Charlie Kirks’ death in an online post was a lovely note to Charlie’s family. Kimmell understood the enormity of loss that they were feeling. When he later did a monologue his comments were aimed at those attempting to divide our nation by insinuating that anyone other than a very disturbed young man had been behind the killing. That was it. There was no ugliness but the president insisted that there was and furthermore went after not only Jimmy Kimmel, but anyone else who dares to voice beliefs that counter his own. 

I think that if there is one sacred right of all citizens of the United States it is free speech. Each of us should be able to voice opinions without fear of retribution, but that does not seem to be the way Trump thinks. Kimmel was taken from his show and others were warned that they were next. It was low point in our democracy.

Then came the memorial for Charlie Kirk this past weekend when his widow, Erika, expressed her forgiveness for the young man who had killed her husband. I was quite moved by her graciousness and recalled the words of Jesus Himself as he was dying on the cross, “Father, forgive them. They know not what they do.” For Donald Trump to follow the grieving widow with a tirade of hatefulness and self pity while the individuals gathered for the memorial  applauded, was sickening. What should have been a moment for healing became a sideshow for Trump to air his grievances. 

I can’t even begin to enumerate the feelings that I have experienced as Trump continued his tirades this past week at a press conference claiming a link between the use of acetaminophen during pregnancy to autism followed by a deragned harangue at the Untied Nations. Perhaps some unknown observer had it right when he or she texted that our president is “stark raving nuts.”

I have witnessed friends worrying that they will be persecuted because of their beliefs and life styles. I have seen a kind of fear that never before existed in our country. All of it smoldered inside of me until I stayed up late to watch Jimmy Kimmel’s return to his show on Tuesday evening. On that night I saw a man who was still defiant but overcome by the fact that his character had been so misunderstood and maligned. He was supported by crowds both inside and outside of the studio but he was fragile because his reputation had been so unfairly besmirched. He understood how dangerous speaking out has become and he worried for our nation. At the same time he wanted us all to adopt Erika Kirk’s redemptive feelings of forgiveness lest we lose our nation to the rampant hate that is festering in the hearts of those who want only to dominate. 

Just as Dr. Robby did in the last episodes of The Pitt, I finally let my emotions run free. I went to my bathroom and sobbed. It was a moment long in coming. I cried for my country. I cried for those who are under attack by the very man who should be protecting and consoling us all. I cried for Erika Kik and her children. I cried that our shining city on the hill has come to a point of ridicule. I cried that we seem so quick to misunderstand each other all because a little insecure boy who at almost eighty years old never grew up to be a man. I even cried that Donald Trump is so broken and wondered what had made him so. Then I pulled myself together and knew that I would carry on because everything that I love is at stake.  

When I was a young child I learned about greed when my father read to me a fairytale about a fisherman who caught a magic fish. Most youngsters have heard the story of how the fish offered to give the man whatever he wanted if only he would agree to throw the fish back into the water. At first the fisherman, who was quite poor, only desired a better home with enough food to keep him and his wife from starving. Upon returning from his fishing trip he found his wife beaming in front of a nice little house where a pot of stew was cooking on the stove. When he told his wife about what had happened she was quite excited and happy but over time she grew dissatisfied with her “just enough” life and demanded that her husband catch the magic fish again and insist on a bigger place with better furnishings and more varieties of food in the pantry. 

True to his word the fisherman tried and tried to recapture the magic fish and one day it happened again. He and the fish made a new deal that involved improving the fisherman’s abode and lifestyle. When he went home he was amazed at how large his new living quarters were and how many wonderful accoutrements it held. His wife was excited as well and for a time the two of them revelled in their good fortune but again and again she would ask for more money and more power and each time the magic fish would fulfill her wishes. Finally she asked for too much and when the fisherman went back home he was greeted by a hungry wife standing in front of the old hovel. 

We have had many moments in history when greedy folks did not seem able to get enough. Often, but not always, they pushed too far and ended up in ashes. I witnessed such a thing in my hometown of Houston with the company called Enron. At one time it was considered to be the most innovative and exceptional business in the country. What most of those viewing the company did not know is that it housed a toxic culture that hid a house of cards that was bound to fail.

The employees of Enron were some of the best and brightest individuals in the country. From the start they were pitted with each other in a drive to make more and more money. They even got to decide who in their group was not producing enough and needed to be fired. Those at the highest levels were willing to do anything to keep bringing in more and more cash including cooking the accounting books to appear to be in better shape than the business was. They took enormous risks and recorded future profits on their bottom line before the money had actually materialized. With dirty tricks, a total lack of integrity, and a willingness to stab customers and each other in the back lots of phony money was being made on Wall Street while in truth little was actually coming in. 

The crash and total destruction of Enron took only twenty four days leaving employees, customers, investors and the people who had trusted and touted them in ashes. Arthur Anderson, the oldest accounting firm in the country collapsed. Ordinary workers lost their life savings and their retirement accounts. Those who had created the mess had managed to cash in their stock before the fall, leaving with millions of dollars but their reputations were tarnished and many of them ended up in jail. One committed suicide and the man who had founded the company had a heart attack and died before he went to trial. The city of Houston suffered in ways that will never be forgotten. Even athletic stadiums had to be renamed. 

Of course it was greed that created the Enron monster but greed has never gone away in spite of incidents such as the fall of a huge company that should have been a warning. Later our nation would undergo a nationwide scandal with the housing market that toppled banks and left the real estate market in shambles. It was as though nobody had learned a thing.

In a way what is emanating from the White House these days has a familiar feel. We have wealthy people fawning over President Trump as though he is the second coming. They bring him gold plated gifts and pledges of working with him all for the promise that he will not raise their taxes amd will approve their business deals. To keep the funds coming into the treasury the president has decided to raise money with tariffs that are jolting the American people in horrific ways. Small businesses are reeling. Prices are rising. At the same time the president has increased his personal bottom line many times over. Greed has taken over once again and my concern is that history has demonstrated over and over again that it is a poison that sooner or later destroys. The so called businessman named Trump is already causing chaos in the economy and ultimately it will hurt the common citizen much more than the billionaires. This new iteration of greediness seems doomed from the outset. 

I don’t know why we ordinary people get duped over and over again. I don’t know why we fall for dangerous ideas when economists and learned people can see the storm coming. We simply do not listen because the charlatans make us believe that we too will get rich from their schemes. i tend to follow the old saw that the buyer must beware. Right now my instincts tell me that we should all be concerned.  

“We are all a little broken but the last time I checked broken crayons color just the same as whole ones.” —Unknown

I have taught so many young people, many of whom seemed ready to take on the world with competence and wisdom. Others stumbled and fumbled and appeared to be destined for a world of trouble. Most of them rambled through their twenties on a quest to find themselves and to my great delight they were almost always successful. 

There have been many studies about human development that suggest that our brains are still forming well into our twenties. That does not mean that we will be a hot mess until the evolution is mostly complete but it does suggest that we may make mistakes as we chart our courses in life. Somehow as we grow older we often forget about our own mistakes in our youth and focus a kind of unfair judgement on the young men and women just starting down the road of adulting. 

We’ve all heard older folk lamenting the flaws of today’s twenty something men and women. They boast about the work ethic and accomplishments they achieved at the same age, condemning anyone in that age group today who is struggling to find themselves. They often forget their own dramas or brush them under the rug where they think that nobody can see them. Instead I would suggest that we encourage young adults, boost their belief in themselves, consider the hardships they may be facing, and help them to learn from any mistakes we may perceive that they are making. 

I know a man who has many skeletons in his own closet that most people are polite enough not to mention. He was ranting about a young woman that he once knew who was neurotic, lazy and wanting in common sense. He remarked that he never felt comfortable around her and ended up pushing her away when she came to him looking for help.

What he does not tell is the whole story of their relationship. She was only twenty four and he was in his late forties. She was a relative by marriage who had lost her father to a heart attack and not long after that had watched her mother die from cancer. She became so overwrought that she ended up divorcing her husband, something that was probably destined from the start given that both of them had been far to young when they eloped. Her lifeboat came in the form of a sweet and kindly aunt who kept her door open for the young niece. When that aunt died of a heart attack one Sunday morning the young woman broke. 

She spent a great deal of time doing exactly the wrong things. She was unmoored, without direction and seeking solace from someone, anyone who would listen, including the man who spurned her. He was convinced that she was a loser who just meant trouble for everyone and so he broke off all contact with her and then continued over the years to complain about what a disappointment she had been. 

As happenstance often does, I encountered the woman many years later when she was in her fifties. She had pulled herself together, earning a college degree and becoming a highly respected teacher. Eventually she was even tapped for administrative work. I witnessed the transformation that she had undergone. She became confident and responsible most likely because she had found someone who believed in her and also because she had matured. 

As a teacher who keeps in touch with many of my students I have seen such transformations over and over again. Not everyone finds their way without stumbling and many of their pitfalls can be dangerously traumatic. Coursing through the twenties with images of how one should be is not always as smooth sailing as we sometimes wish it to be. Some of the most successful and happiest people made countless bad moves during those early years. With a bit of luck they manage to learn from their mistakes. In fact, they become better versions of themselves than the ones that they had once believed they should be. 

We all have stories of blowing it in relationships or with jobs. We get ourselves into corners and situations that break our spirits. It happens to virtually everyone so we should remember how it feels whenever someone comes to us seeking a bit of kindness. It is not a time to be judge and jury when we learn of someone’s mistakes. Instead we might simply show them that we understand and we care. The road to healing lies in the arms and goodwill of the people around us. We each have the power to show the broken souls how beautiful their colors remain.