All It Takes Is A Little Love

One of my ancestors was Captain Thomas Smith of Virginia. He served in the Continental Army during the American Revolution. He fought bravely for the American cause that would become the United States of America. Not quite one hundred years later one of his descendants, Lt. John William Seth Smith, would go to battle with the Union Army to save the nation that was conceived by our Founding Fathers and first led by George Washington. 

Even though the writers of the Constitution would not “remember the ladies” as Abigail Adams had implored her husband, John, women would ultimately gain the right to vote in the first decades of the twentieth century. I feel an obligation to register my voice with every election. My vote is a precious and hard won gift that I do not ever take for granted. Today I will go to the polls with great joy in my heart. As I vote for those who will represent me on a local and national level I will be thinking of my ancestors and the sacrifices they made to make it possible for me to have a voice in how to continue the promises of those who dreamed of this nation. 

There have been many watershed moments in the history of the United States. I learned about them as a child and young adult in school and college. I do not take my responsibility to vote for the greater good of our country and its people lightly. I have studied the issues and the candidates in great detail. I believe that this moment is yet another important turning point in which “we the people” have the opportunity to protect the United States as surely as Thomas Smith and John William Seth Smith did in the long ago. 

We are at a fork in the road of our democracy. We have an important choice to make. We can think only of our personal needs and wishes or we can consider the greater question of who is more likely to further the progress of our great nation. We have become a diverse group of citizens in which those who were once slaves have as much right to vote as any white male has ever had. I am both a daughter of the American Revolution and the child of an immigrant family from Eastern Europe. Our country has been enriched by people from Europe, Africa, Asia, South America and the Middle East. The immigrants have not been invaders but creative contributors to our ever more dynamic democracy. Each of us plays an important role in keep the United States of America vibrant and true to the ideals that launched one of the most audacious experiments in the history of the world. 

Today I plan to join my fellow citizens in voting. I have made my choices. I believe with all of my heart that my ballot will be as important today as the contributions of my ancestors once were. We have a choice between those who love this country and its people and those who would have us believe that a man who continues to incite divisions among us is a patriot rather than a traitor to all that is sacred. I will celebrate as I choose Kamala Harris, a woman of Black and Indian cultures. How better to demonstrate the glory of our great nation? I will spurn Donald Trump who seems only intent on enriching and protecting himself and his personal needs. It is what I am being called to do by the people who sacrificed so much before me. I will vote for the future of the nation and for the future of my children and grandchildren. I will vote for those less fortunate that I am and for those newly arrived in our country who no doubt want nothing more than my own ancestors desired. I will vote to save the United States of America from ideas that degrade it.

Today is a great day. I am excited and in awe of being able to register my voice, hoping that it will be amplified my millions of other Americans who understand the fork in the road that we must choose. I feel patriotism filling my heart with joy. The United States of America is not a hell hole as Donald Trump describes it. It is a great place to be and I am honored to do my part to keep it that way.  I am a daughter of the American Revolution and I feel so proud to be part of the great democratic republic which has grown and changed to include more and more of us over time. We are a beacon of liberty shining for the world to see.

I am by nature a polite person. I respect others and tend more toward diplomacy than brute force. I like to be optimistic and I certainly have never been the type who would rant that the sky is falling, but right now things are very different. The current environment is demanding my attention. As a person trained to protect people from harm I find myself needing to speak difficult truths as a warning that dangers that are imminent. 

I have been wary of Donald J. Trump from the moment he rode down a golden elevator and announced that he was running for President of the United States. My single parent mother had taught me how to develop my radar when it came to being in the presence of dangerous people. She was a street wise child who was the youngest of eight children. From an early age she had to navigate prejudices and want. She brilliantly learned the tricks of the trade and managed to live a wonderful life in spite of challenges that might have conquered others. Along the way she plied me with her wisdom, love, generosity and ability to spot a bad situation or person immediately. 

Somehow she instinctively knew that there are times in life when evil enters and we must all recognize it when we see it. I have kept myself safe without guns or fortresses simply by being aware of what is happening in my surroundings. I have rarely been surprised and it was no different with Donald Trump. I was that he had wrapped himself in a false cloak of patriotism that was based on dividing us as a nation, telling us falsehoods about each other, manipulating our laws to exclude huge swaths of the citizenry, debasing women and people with disabilities. flattering racist tendencies. I saw exactly what kind of person he was and reviled it even as he did his best to gaslight us into thinking that he was the true American patriot and that those who disagreed with him were the losers and communists. 

I felt vindicated when it became apparent Trump was unable to pull us together as a nation during the worldwide Covid pandemic. His many weaknesses of character and leadership became patently clear and as I had hoped he was defeated in his run for a second term. I thought that surely we were done with him and might return to an American system build on mutual respect and the kind of ideas that pulls people together rather than apart. Almost immediately my dreams were dashed on January 6, 2020, when he incited his followers to storm Congress and stop the verification of the vote. Surely this was the work of a deranged traitor only intent on increasing power for himself. Once again I clearly saw his danger and believed that all Americans had finally witnessed it as well. 

Imagine my dismay that Donald Trump is once again a candidate for the presidency and that according to polls the race is too close to call at this moment. Now I have begun to feel an urgency that I have never before experienced other than the time I had to dart into the street in front of a car that was speeding straight for the tiny toddler of a friend. Without pausing for a second I did what had to be done. I scared everyone with my bold move, but the child was saved. 

Now I feel the same need to not mince words. Donald J. Trump is a convicted criminal who attempted to overturn a fair election. He is a danger to the very foundations of of democracy and yet so many seem to be bizarrely unaware that he is moving swiftly toward the annihilation of all that we have held dear in our nation just as surely as that car was heading toward the little child. If we do not use our common sense and love of country to stop this travesty then all of us, not just those who despise Trump as much as I do will become victims of an unnecessary tragedy. 

The United States is not the hell hole that Trump claims it to be. Our economy is slowly but surely adjusting itself from the worldwide upheaval of Covid and inflation. The immigrants in our country are not the extreme danger that Trump describes them as being. We need to come back together and pass the immigration bill that Trump asked Republicans not to pass so that he would might use immigrants as a campaign tool. Nothing that Trump advocates is healthy or good for our country. Everything that he espouses is designed to keep him out of jail for his crimes. He is a bad person, a terrible citizen, a horrid choice for running the nation. I see this more clearly than ever and I have to be blunt in saying that God did not send him to heal us. He is as anti-Christian in the way he lives his life as anyone that I have ever witnessed. 

If I can change even one vote that might have been cast in favor of Donald J. Trump I will have served my country well. I want to preserve the world of the great men who conceived our nation and believed that we would protect and improve it. I believe with all of my heart that Donald J. Trump is the evil that men like James Madison, Benjamin Franklin and George Washington feared might come along to tear it all down. We have the power to see the danger and set things right. We will be fine if we keep Donald Trump from ever returning to the White House again. I fear our destiny if we are blinded by his incoherent whining and lies. Be a hero when you vote. Send a message that you love the United States of America and will not stand for watching it reduced to a mockery of itself. Vote against Donald Trump and all who blindly support him. Save the United States of America.

I admit that I am an anxious person by nature. I suppose I’ve always had an overblown tendency to be concerned about other people. I suspect that certain events in my life have taught me to constantly prepare for the possibility of worst case scenarios. I often fret that things may go awry and I try to prepare myself and others for such eventualities. 

As a teacher having plans ready from A to Z was a plus because the cadence of a classroom can change in a heartbeat. I had to be prepared for events that seemed improbable but still managed to crop up in my day to day work. I suppose that being a nervous Nelly who would lie awake at night imagining what I would do in case of this emergency or that actually made me a fabulous educator but it definitely took its toll on my personal wellbeing. 

I’ve been that person who swings into action to take care of the people around me since eight year old me watched over my brothers while my mother grieved over the death of her beloved husband. I quietly became an old old soul on that tragic day, understanding better than many of my peers that bad things can happen when you least expect them. I still fret and worry about my brothers and their families. Sometimes I awake in the middle of the night wondering if they are okay. My instincts still alert me when they are in need even if they have said nothing. I can read their feelings in some kind of physic connection that I will never be able to explain. 

I never would have guessed that my mother’s trials of being a single parent would have led her to four decades of battling with bipolar disorder but that is exactly what happened. For those forty years I was her caretaker, alone at first and later joined by my brothers. I spent most of my young adult life watching over her and assessing her mental state while raising two daughters. Sometimes I worry that there were too many times when I was more concerned with my mother’s health than what was happening with my little girls. I was juggling so many responsibilities that it was inevitable that I would drop a ball now and then. 

I am so accustomed to worrying and fretting that it has become second nature to my personality. Some people see me as a control freak and they may have a point. I am always scanning the environment, looking for someone in need, attempting to solve problems before they grow too dangerous. I suppose that trying to take care of everyone might be viewed as a form of controlling them, but in my heart my only purpose is to be ready to catch someone if they begin to fall. Experience has taught me that such moment scome when we least expect them and it pays to be ready with a plan of action. 

I sometimes wish that I had the ability to simply be carefree and without the worrisome thoughts that seem to fill my head. It would be nice not to be so tuned in to people’s hurts and needs. Sometimes the weight of concern that I carry overwhelms me, especially whenever I widen my notice to include strangers who are in trouble. That’s when I have to back off just a bit knowing that there is so little that I might do other than say a prayer or two. I talk to God and seek comfort in understanding what I should do. 

My husband and I spend each evening at our dinner table talking about this and that with my ninety five year old father-in-law who now lives with us. Sometimes the banter is light and airy and sometimes it grows serious. What I have learned from the conversations is just how anxious my father in law is like me. The two of us often overthink the future and the well being of others but it is a part of our natures that won’t be undone at this late juncture of our lives. 

One evening my father-in-law spoke of praying to God and expressed his belief that God put us here to perform the miracles that he wants to happen. In other words, God gave us many talents that he expects us to use to solve the problems of the world. When bad things happen he expects us to take charge, do whatever we can, love and support the people around us. 

I suppose that I tend to agree with my father-in l-aw that we each have roles to play on this earth. My own prayers are always for the strength and guidance to do whatever I was meant to do. Sometimes I need that extra spiritual push just to keep going when I am weary. Somehow I always find a way to dig deeply inside of my soul and find what I seek to keep moving forward. 

Right now my world and the bigger world are so overheated that I sometimes want to darken my bedroom and spend a day in bed. I imagine running away and living in the woods without a care in the world. My anxieties are in overload because of wars and storms and a kind of worldwide divisiveness which I know I cannot fix alone. I have to calm myself lest I lose my direction and my energy. I have to reorient my perspective and work first on myself before I turn to the task of serving others. It’s a battle I have endured many times before so I have an idea of what I must do to stay strong. 

I suspect that there are millions of people much like me. We are living in very serious times when it is easy to lose our footing and wander into the weeds of despair. We need to keep our perspectives positive and pace ourselves for the battles that lie ahead. Life has taught me that this too shall pass just as every stressful event in my life has done. So I’m taking a deep breath and preparing to spend some time each day dwelling on the many good things that I see around me. Too much worrying will sap me unless I balance it with enjoying my good fortune. I may have to hoist a heavy burden tomorrow, but for today I plan to just trust that I have done all that I can for now. I will set my anxieties aside. This is a plan that has worked for me over and over again.

It was early morning and the sun was just peeking over the horizon. There was enough of a chill in the air to prompt me to wrap a fluffy throw wrapped around my legs as I glanced out my window to catch a glimpse of children and their parents waiting for the school bus to arrive. Somehow it felt as though it was going to be a glorious day as I munched on my breakfast and sipped my tea. 

I had quickly completed the challenges of all of my word games and went to Facebook to post birthday greetings to one of my former students and to alert reader to my blog for the day. Then I began to read comments from friends who were also up before the dawn.

The first thing that really caught my eye was a new photo of a dear friend and her daughter. It was a beautiful head shot of the two ladies that literally captured the love and devotion between the two of them. I was overcome by emotion as I gazed at the image and realized how vividly obvious their connection to each other was. I was literally overcome with tears. That picture was as glorious as a symphony, a great work of art. It literally changed the course of my thoughts from the mundane to a kind of meditation on life and the world around me. 

Perhaps because I was in a state of optimism I began to see each new post that I read far beyond superficialities. There were joyful images of a couple celebrating their anniversary at the beach with family, another of the wedding of a young couple laughing and dancing with joy. Then came the image of a three month old baby girl with a proud description of life with her from her father. It was as though I was looking into the very souls of the people whose faces and stories had been left to brighten my day and fill my attitude with hope. 

I continued my journey along my Facebook wall and saw a former student who was celebrating a new hairdo that left her beaming with a kind of confidence that only comes from loving herself and the people around her. I cried again when I came across a heartfelt remembrance of a friend’s visit with her aging brother who is beginning to show signs of forgetfulness. Then I read a moving newsletter from the historian Heather Cox Richardson in which she celebrated the majesty of the United States of America with all of its diversity and creativity. 

Somehow it felt as though I was receiving a moving and spiritual message from the universe insuring me that we the people of the world are ultimately going to be alright. It will be our love and joy that will carry us through the darkest of times just as it always has. There is an innate goodness in each of us and in the land around us that pushes us in the direction of what really matters. 

It is easy to become distracted by things that are meaningless. Sometimes it is difficult to see and understand the power of simply accepting and caring about people and the places where we live without judgement and negativity that bears on us like a heavy burden. We are made to feel that the world is a dystopian nightmare of anger, crimes, hate and wars. 

Certainly those things do exist but they are not the inevitable lot of humankind. It is in the unfiltered love of one individual for another that we find the true nature of people. It is in accepting those around us just as they are, seeing their beauty and worth without commands that they be one way or another that we thrive together. The bonds between us should be stronger than words and beliefs that threaten to drive us apart. We should be able and willing to see the heart and soul of each other rather than only the superficial differences that bother us. 

That three month old girl that I saw must be allowed to become truly herself with only love and encouragement helping her to know what that might be. That old man who is losing his memory is still the person that he has always been and his worth is as great as ever. Our nation is a conglomeration of many people of many shades and beliefs. It is a beautiful patchwork quilt of diverse ecosystems and dreams. 

Our greatness comes not in defining a perfect person or perfect world but in a willingness to love and cherish and share the talents and ideas and beauty of each and every individual without trying to make them fit a mold that works for us. The only concept of living together that we need is the one that allows the freedom to be different and still love each other. 

When I see those images I see the way that we get past the rancor that sometimes seems to be the natural way of things. It is not so much in protecting ourselves from those who differ from the ways we like to do things, but in seeing the good even in those that we struggle to understand. The meaning of life is found not in the moments when we all agree but in those in which we celebrate how wonderfully different and yet alike we are. 

It was date night again and I was looking for something different to do. None of the movies in theaters interested me and we had already been to most of the nighttime museums around town. It seemed like a nice night to find a coffee shop and just sit and talk but I wanted to do something more adventurous. Remembering that one of my grandsons was in town I decided to invite him to go to dinner with us. Since I had no idea how to pick one place from the ten thousand restaurants that seem to be on every corner of the Houston area, I punted the ball to him deciding that potluck would be the best way to go. 

We picked him up in the Sugar Land area of town and he suggested that we try a highly rated Indian restaurant not far from the home where he was staying. Aga’s had a 4.8 out of 5 rating so it sounded like a good bet for a dining adventure. Located in a strip mall on Wilcrest Drive, the Indian/Pakistani eatery was brimming with life when we arrived. The atmosphere was electric and parking was difficult to find. Somehow we felt as though we had stumbled upon a happening. 

The dining room at Aga’s is quite large and it seemed as though every table was filled with smiling people munching away on exotic dishes. To our delight our wait was only a couple of minutes before we were seated at a table by the window, an extra treat given the crowd of people that kept arriving in large groups and small. Soon there was a long line and long wait for anyone who came. 

It took a bit of time to read the menu that offered dishes that were unfamiliar to us. We decided to order a sampling of different items to share. We chose vegetable samosas, a kind of deep fried flaky pastry filled with potatoes, and gobi Manchurian, fried cauliflower tossed in a spicy sauce. I thought the BBQ chicken wings sounded tasty and we included a shrimp and rice dish along with some curry and naan bread. For beverages we chose mango ice tea and mango lassi, a mango juice blend with sweet yogurt milk and sugar. We topped off our epicurean excursion with mango mousse for dessert.

Everything about the restaurant was delightful from the friendliness of the staff to the large pitchers of ice water that kept appearing on our table as we tasted the exotic spices of each dish. We quickly learned that any description of a sauce that included the word, spicy, meant that our mouths would soon be burning from the heat of peppers. Our favorite offering ended up being the gobi Manchurian cauliflower which surprised us all. The vegetable samosa was delightful as well with flavors that were so different from anything we had ever experienced. The chicken was hotter than hot, not in terms of temperature but in regard to the level of spice used to prepare it. While it was incredibly delicious none of us were able to consume more than two of the wings without chugging down water to cool our palates. Perhaps it takes time to become accustomed to the ultra spiciness.

While we were there someone was celebrating a birthday and the lively singing from the waiters filled the room with a kind of joy that floated to each table. Meanwhile a vendor of wind-up toy dogs had set up a display just outside our window. There was as much festivity on the sidewalk outside as inside the large dining room. It was a happening for sure that made us smile and feel a sense of pride in our city of Houston that boasts more diversity than any place in the United States. We had found a little corner of Indian culture that made as feel as though we had stumbled upon a rare jewel. 

Nobody rushed us as we talked and laughed and felt infected by the joyful mood of the place. We munched on flavors that our tastebuds had never before encountered and spoke of how much we love our city that welcomes people from all over the world. Our grandson described a website that he is designing and seemed excited about a class he is about to begin to enhance his Computer Engineering degree. He was already communicating with the teacher and some of the other students about what he hopes to accomplish. It delighted me to know that he intends to be a lifelong learner eager to keep honing his craft. 

As we left the crowd of waiting guests had swelled but nobody was out of sorts or pushy. The atmosphere itself was part of the ambiance. Cars were circling the parking lot looking for an available spot. Soon a woman dressed in a sari eagerly stood where our truck had once been while her husband made one more pass to clinch ownership of the coveted spot. He waved and shouted that he “owed us one” as he pulled into the space.

We were delighted with our visit to Afga’s and felt as though we had discovered a not so hidden secret in our great city. I hope to return another time to try some other dishes and to get the feeling of joy that brought so many smiles to our faces. Discovering something new and wonderful is always fun.