Two little dogs Part 2

For the past two weeks, Button has returned. My friend  went for an important surgery, so Button, who lived with us the last time Eleanor had a hospital stay, came to live with us once again. And much of what I wrote 5 years ago about Button's visit still makes me laugh, and still applies.

Our own little pooch, Shadow, has been a bit grumpier than usual, mainly because Button is able to jump up on our furniture and claim all his favourite spots (Shadow's short legs and our hardwood floors prevent him jumping that high). Of course, we have done our best to make things fair, ensuring that they both have comfy places to sit, Shadow with Lee, and Button with me.

But when it comes time for food, Shadow definitely has the upper hand. We set their bowls down on opposite sides of the kitchen, and Shadow gulps his down, right to the last tiny morsel. Button, on the other hand, takes her time, and leaves little bits behind. When she goes to check Shadow's empty bowl he moves over to clean up her leftovers! 

On walks, Button takes the lead, and Shadow, the older of the two, doddles along behind. He's never been one to be thrilled by walks, but if you take out her leash, Button bounces on her hind legs until she's harnessed up and ready to go. We've been fortunate that the weather has been good these past two weeks, so she's had some good walks.

The biggest difference we've noticed 5 years on is that both dogs sleep a lot more. And both snore!

Eleanor was discharged from the hospital yesterday, so our time with Button is coming to an end. I've enjoyed having her around -- Shadow adores Lee, watching his every move, and Button sticks with me. It's really nice to be a little dog's favourite person now and then. I'll miss her when she heads home.

Music Appreciation Monday #3 -- A little bit of Appalachian Spring

Tired of winter? Me too. So I was delighted to run into a little bit of Spring on Friday night... I had the pleasure of hearing the entirety of Aaron Copland's Appalachian Spring during my Edmonton Symphony shift, and as I listened, I imagined the beauty of flowers popping out of the earth as we sometimes see in those time-lapse videos. They would be really wonderful set to Appalachian Spring!

Of course, the most familiar part of Copland's piece of orchestral music is The Shaker Song, known to the Shakers as "the dancing song" and written in 1848 by Elder Joseph Brackett in or near Alfred, Maine, a Shaker village. 

In 1944, Maestro Copland incorporated the melody into his Appalachian Spring composition for the Martha Graham Ballet of the same title. 

In 1963, Sydney Carter turned it into The Lord of the Dance, and there have been many versions of the melody sung by everyone from Captain Tractor to Weezer, and, of course, danced to by many, many Irish dancers!

If you want to hear the entirety of Appalachian Spring, I recommend this video with Maestra Alondra de la Parra for the enjoyment of watching musicians do their thing (that's why I love symphony so much!), and imagining those flowers unfolding themselves from the ground. 

But for those who aren't so inclined, here's the melody of "Tis the Gift to Be Simple" as Copland adapted it, with the charming Shaker lyrics below.

Enjoy! 

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free

'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gain'd

To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed,

To turn, turn will be our delight,

Till by turning, turning we come 'round right.

'Tis the gift to be loved and that love to return

'Tis the gift to be taught and a richer gift to learn,

And when we expect of others what we try to live each day,

Then we'll all live together and learn to say, (Refrain)

'Tis the gift to have friends and a true friend to be,

'Tis the gift to think of others, not to only think of "me,"

And when we hear what others really think and really feel,

Then we'll all live together with a love that is real. (Refrain)

Extraordinary Sunday mornings

In the past, I pretty much knew what to expect on ordinary Sunday mornings, but since I joined the team at Inner City Pastoral Ministry in September of 2020, that has definitely changed. 

For example, this past Sunday, a large man who called himself "Big Bird" asked for a pen and some paper. "I'll write a poem, you'll see," he said. He spent a portion of our 45-minute service scribbling away on his knee, and just before it ended, he handed me his poem with the instruction, "read it for everyone to hear."

I scanned the poem quickly to be sure that it was suitable for public consumption, then got the okay from pastor Jim to read it at the microphone. People were very attentive. Though there was a slightly confusing reference to a "real bonspiel that can be surreal," Big Bird's poem was an encouragement for its listeners to take 

 

the unbeaten trail 

that will not fail 

to inevitably be 

our course of action... 

a way 

that will not lead us astray 

so that we may 

be actually there.

"Thank you for these words of inspiration, Big Bird, and for sharing them with us," pastor Jim said. The community applauded and Big Bird leapt to his feet, raising his victory-sign hands high in the air, pleased and proud that his poem had been heard and well-received.

After the service, Dan (not his real name) helped distribute Sunday's bag lunches because the communities that donated them were unable to send volunteers. Dan is a big, gentle guy, a regular at our Community of Emmanuel services and bible studies, and he was hugely helpful. Because he's from the neighbourhood, he knew a lot of the people waiting in line, easily identifying folks who needed their first lunch bag, and bypassing the ones who were reaching for seconds or thirds. 

"One lunch each, at least until most folks have one," Dan said, over and over, occasionally giving more to people that he knew were supporting family members who couldn't make it from their camps to us. Dan was a pro, ensuring that the little ladies who always want to feed half of Chinatown with our bag lunches took only one or two and moved along. They know and respect him, and he always treats them kindly but firmly. 

Every so often, Dan would hand a lunch bag or coffee to someone and, with false cheerfulness, announce, "I guess I won't be seeing you at 55 Club anymore. Operation Friendship is done and gone." Dan was trying to make light of yet another loss in a neighbourhood where loss is far too commonplace, but the disappointment, anger, and grief under his words left a lump in my throat. 

On the first of February, Operation Friendship Seniors' Society closed without warning after over 50 years of hospitality offered through its seniors' drop-in, 55 Club programs and activities, and affordable housing units. The press release cited vandalism, security issues, and underfunding as reasons for closure. "We didn't even see it coming," Dan lamented. All I could do was swallow hard and say "I'm so sorry, Dan."

Our mission statement for Inner City Pastoral Ministry says that we are an interdenominational Christian Ministry of Presence, and though we can never do enough to alleviate pain and struggle for the people who come to us, just "being there" with them is our primary focus. To listen. To help when we can. To encourage. To love.

And it's a huge privilege, too. Praying and singing together, sharing life's ups and downs, serving coffee and lunches, handing out donated winterwear, and just standing with community members in their moments of grief, pride, frustration, and joy -- or any other emotion you care to name -- makes every Sunday morning extraordinary.

* * * * * * *

P.S. If you'd like to help with what we do, don't hesitate to contact me (email address on the sidebar), or click here for the ICPM website and more details or ways to donate.

This little light of mine

Today's reflection is brought to you by 

Matthew 5:13-16.

Jim, the assistant pastor for the community of Emmanuel, is one for what I'll call hands-on-homilies. He often incorporates small items to be shared with community members into his sermons, and today was no exception. Everyone received a little ziplock containing a teaspoon of salt, and a birthday candle with a paper matchbook.

It's salt of the earth and light of the world Sunday, and we are all both of those, Jesus says in today's reading from Matthew's gospel -- but it requires some effort on our parts to give flavour and light to those around us. So at the end of this morning's service, we prayed with our lit candles:

You are the salt of the earth.

Sprinkle us across our community, God,

across our world,

to bring the good flavour of love

wherever we go.

You are the light of the world.

Uncover the radiance that is within us, God,

to shine the truth of your love

wherever we go.

Let your light shine before others

that everyone we meet

may see our lives of faithfulness

and glorify you,

our loving Creator.

+Amen

And Farley led us in the classic spiritual tune that Odetta and the Holmes Brothers sing so well in the video below. 

Have a good week being salt and light for all those you meet!

(And P.S. -- if you have a spare prayer for Eleanor, a friend and moodlings reader who is awaiting some very important surgery, it's most definitely appreciated!)