October 5, 2013

Dancing with the Least of These

I fell asleep mid-conversation last night before I ha a chance to post about Day 4, so today will be a b.o.g.o. event... And I think it will be worth the wait.

Day Four: I read on Facebook that some of our very best friends got their pumkins smashed before they even had a chance to carve them.  Paul and Erica, and their three little ones, Macey, Justus and O-Baby O-Theo (it's really just Theo, but that is what London calls him, for no reason whatsoever) were our first friends when we moved to Rochester.  We have gone through so much together, all of the highs and lows of the past six years were spent with this amazing family.

Erica is a quiet servant, she hears of a need, and will quietly try to help.  She sees something that reminds her of someone, and she will buy it and save it for the perfect time. When I saw her post about the kids being bummed... Day Four was easy.

Tom and I were able to deliver new pumkins to the doorstep before the kids got home from school, and they seemed pretty excited. 

Miss Macey
 
Justus

And of course, O-Baby O-Theo


The good news is that purchasing these pumpkins will no longer stress Macey in the financial sense.. So hopefully she can take the weekend off from her home-based business.


For Day Five, it was sort of a potpourri of kindness.  I gave apples to some friends, including our hard working garbage man.  He was really, really surprised and thankful.  

In addition to the apples, I spent an hour and a half taking to my elderly neighbor about old World War II stories.  He told me what the weather was like during the battle of the bulge, and described what he saw at Buchenwald when they liberated Jewish and Polish prisoners, including the mentally ill that we're forced to brutally kill other Jews before they were sent to the crematorium.

The stories were horrific.  And being around Mr. Al, in General is quite challenging.  But, everyone needs to tell their story and he is no exception.  

For my last kindness of the day, I am going to share a special gift with the greater Buffallo, NY region.  The gift of my sweet dance moves.  

Adam always loved to dance, and yesterday an old aquaintence of his shared a beautiful story with me that I had never heard.  She wrote this:

When I was 15, I went to the freshman dance in the cafeteria in the Jr High. I was awkward and very shy. I spent most of the evening hiding in the bathroom and hoping it would just be over. I ended up going out to the dance floor. I didn't know Adam, but I recognized him. He was there all by himself. Amazing! A 14 year old boy at a dance by himself! ( I went with a group of girl friends). I asked if he wanted to dance. He said sure! Before we got a chance, my friend cut in. It was funny the first time, but she did it repeatedly all night long and I never did get to dance with this nice boy. Well, as I was walking down the hall after the dance, I met up with Adam. My friend was no where in sight. I mentioned that to him, just as a joke. He stopped right there and we danced! Just for a few moments. No music, no cafeteria, who cares who saw.

What a special special brother you have! I don't know of any boy that age that would do such a sweet thing. I was always taught that there are angels on earth. I have repeated this story to people many times and there is no doubt in my mind that he was an angel.

That, my friends, was who my brother was.  He didn't care if you were the garbage man, the oldest, grumpiest man alive, or the shyest girl in school... He was a kind and loving friend to all.  So, tonight, I shall dance.  My limbs will flail in directions that don't make any sense, and I will forcefully lead the conga line with participants that are barely willing.  I will do it with great joy, knowing the from heaven, my brother is not dancing alone, but he is getting down with his Heavenly Father and that is one party that just don't stop.





1 comment:

  1. Lara you are simply amazing. Thank you for writing this blog. It reminds me of all that is beautiful in life.

    ReplyDelete