THE LITTLE THINGS: A Floral Light in A Dark Place

 

In 2020 the world faced something that most people my age and younger have never faced in their lifetime, a worldwide pandemic caused by the COVID-19 Virus. By March 16th, most businesses in New York were shut down, including my job, and we were in a lockdown, with only essential stores open. As the days and months went by, the infection rate and death toll spiked rapidly. In the US, the one place you did not want to be was New York, ground zero for infections and deaths. By late Spring, we had hundreds of New Yorkers dying and thousands infected daily.  The horror of the daily death reports, and the silence of the normally noisy New York streets, was replaced by an eerie silence, only interrupted by the jarring sounds of ambulances with sirens screaming, racing to and from a nearby hospital, filled my neighborhood with a sense of dread; at least, that's how it felt to me. I will never forget the dark grey I saw and felt throughout; even in the bright sunshine, it was a dreary dark grey. The dark shade of grey that to me, represents doom.

My biggest challenge at the time was overcoming my fear of stepping outside. But with a desperate need for air, vitamin D, and exercise, I had no choice. With much prayer and encouragement from friends, I ventured out as protected as I could with a mask, goggles, and face shield. I started walking everywhere, especially in areas of parks and on streets I had never walked before; it was something new and filled me with curiosity. But something I saw on these streets and parks that I did not expect to impact me as it did, was the flowers. Everywhere there were these little gardens of the most beautiful flowers, some planted in little plots in the middle of a busy highway, some on the sides of the road, some in front of buildings, with the beautiful flowers peeking through the fence, and in the parks. These were not just wildflowers; there was a design, and the plot of dirt was manicured; someone took the time to plant and take care of these flowers. As I discovered more of these little plots of beauty, I realized that I was smiling again; the flowers brought me joy. Sometimes as I stood gazing or photographing them, fellow New Yorkers, in spite of our social distance fears, connected and marveled with me over the beauty of the flowers, and we wondered who planted them. These walks became an almost everyday occurrence, and these moments photographing the flowers were, on some days, my only source of joy. Almost without realizing it, the dark grey that was so present in my life got lighter and lighter until it faded. 

Along the way, I met some of the green-thumbed angel gardeners and thanked them, letting them know how much their flowers meant to me. There was also this little garden in the most unusual place by the side of a busy road where I happened upon what is now my favorite flower and favorite flower photo. I call it the Candlelight Flower, as a light shining in a dark place. Recently I had the unexpected pleasure of saying Thank You to the angel-green-thumbed New Yorker who took it upon himself to transform this overgrown garbage-filled piece of land, plant the seeds and allow God to grow something beautiful, and in so doing, helped to heal my mind and heart and possibly the minds and hearts of many others. His name is Mike.

The Little Things: The Power of A Shower

 

Some people are bath people, they will lounge in a warm or hot bath for hours with candles, and music, read a book, or fall asleep. Not me; I am not here for it. I am a straight-shower person. Hot water running through my hair and massaging my shoulders is my thing. I can stand under bearably hot water for hours if you allow me. It's what wakes me up in the morning and my favorite bedtime ritual. Nothing beats a hot shower at the end of a cold day (sorry bath people). I feel loved by the water and embraced by the warmth; this is one of the things I value most in life, and one of the most automatic things, except on those ungodly days when to my horror, our building boiler is broken, and the water is ice cold. For me, this is an unforgivable sin. I call curses on that boiler, and if I allow myself, I would have hateful thoughts about our building management for allowing this dastardly deed of not properly maintaining the boiler. Don't they know how important this is to me?  Yes, I can simply boil a pot of water and use the special tub that I purchased for this very reason, but it is not the same.  It's just so wrong and unnatural and so much work. Natural is simply being able to turn on the tap and aaaahhhh, hot joy. Ah, yes, first-world problems.

In this said first world, there live some among us who have no such problems as a broken boiler nor problems of having to boil water and shower from a plastic tub. No such problem on waking up from a warm bed only to find freezing water in the middle of winter. In fact, they have no bed at all, no hot or cold water, they have no shower at all. The fact is many have not had a shower in days, months, or years? They never get to experience the simple joy of washing off the day's dirt, washing the stress of life out of their hair, or just the joy of that fresh and renewed feeling, or the pleasure of putting on clean underwear, clean clothes and a pair of soft clean socks, or the security of putting on a clean mask to protect in this time of Covid and other illnesses, to simply feel like they are human and that they matter. This is not available to so many who live among us. 

But God does not leave us without angels. One such Angel is Walter Harris, founder of "Power in a Shower," and his team of amazing volunteers. Along with a sparkling clean shower for our unhoused brothers and sisters, they provide clean clothes, including underwear and socks, masks, water, and snacks. More importantly, they provide compassion, care, a smile, and conversation, in a word, LOVE.

 Source:  

Domestic lifestyle portrait of young happy, and beautiful black African American woman smiling happy, taking a shower at home bathroom, washing her hair with shampoo.  By VisualsYouNeed- Adobe Stock

The Little Things: Olive and Her Kitties

🎵 "All Things Bright and Beautiful

All creatures, great and small

All things Wise and Wonderful, 

"Twas God that made them all" 🎵

This little song that I sang all through my childhood always comes rushing back whenever I happen upon scenes across the city where men and women are kneeling or sitting among stray animals or birds, mostly pigeons, feeding them, giving them love and attention that one could imagine they would give their own animals. I sometimes think of these people as a special breed who God specifically chose to take care of his creatures in the wild or the ones with no forever homes. Are they a special breed, or are they simply people who decide every day to reach beyond themselves and see these birds and animals as they truly are? Bright, beautiful, wise, and wonderful creations of God, and so are worthy of their time, their resources-no matter how limited, and their love. 

I happened upon one such kind soul taking care of some neighborhood cats; her name is Olive.💟😸

Songwriters: Cecil Francis Alexander / Edwin George Monk / George Mcbeth McPhee

All Things Bright and Beautiful lyrics © Capitol CMG Publishing, Royalty Network, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc

Song by Bill Staines

Unidentified Poor Grandmother in the street feeding Pigeons- Adobe Stock Image by Tavrox