Goodbye 2015, You Are Leaving Too Soon

     Yesterday was February, now is December, what happened to all those months, days and hours between then and now?

     I know that it is traditional to leave after 12 months, but I would certainly be appreciative if you departed from tradition to insert, at least, another week into the end of December or, perhaps add a new little month.  If Julius Caesar can add two full months in the middle of the summer ~ July for himself and for his son, Augustus, August ~ then why can I not add a skinny little one at the bottom end of the year?

     The calendar, before Julius, is seen in some of the month names ~ September ~ Sept means 7, October ~ Oct means 8, an octopus has eight tentacles.  November ~ 9, as Novena, a form of worship lasting nine days.  December ~ 10 as in decimal.

      The new little month could be named December Jr. or 
Dec-Jan.  Better yet would be a distinctive name all its own.  After serious thought, I wonder about the name ~ Gratitude ~ but later thinking, it seems that the logical solution is a layered system.  Continue December seven more days, 32nd, 33rd, 34th, 35th, 36th 37th and 38th.

     The new year is always depicted as a baby, so it probably would not even notice if a week was taken from it.

     With the layered system, while people are doing all the projects they had wanted to complete before year's end, Baby New Year could have been quietly born and have a week of quiet, thus being better prepared for all the whoop-de-do and noise people make when they know of its arrival, as was done when you, 2015, first arrived.  Have you ever wondered why people do this for, or perhaps, a better word would be ~ to ~ all Baby New Years, but never make all that racket when their own babies are born, they want quietness to prevail.

     Dear 2015, I have so very many 'manys' for which to thank you as I quietly do purposely alone each year for all the years.  Top among them is that I have lived another year.  As you know, I have been affirming for many years to live to 100 years and be in excellent health, both mentally and physically, however, recently, I have raised that age to 125 years as there are so many books to finish and inventions for which to do prototypes and ~ ~ ~

     2015, while you may not be physically here, so to speak, I will not forget you.

     Before you depart, please leave a message for Baby New Year to get as soon as understanding is possible.

     Greetings, Baby New Year, there are some 'things' that 2015 gave to me and alas millions of people that were more than enough, so you do not need to give anymore unwanted, unpleasant, painful, life threatening challenges. 

     Therefore 2016, you can just concentrate on providing pleasant, prosperous and interesting challenges ~ ~ ~ And happy, healthy experiences, heavily sprinkled over with love.  For all this and more 2016

~ We All Thank You In Advance ~

Avoid Conceited Gift Giving

     As I sat with my parents and sister in our church each Sunday, a nearby large beautiful stained glass window was my main focus successfully getting me through many dull sermons.

     It was not just the sweet little lamb in front of a flowering shrub in the lower left corner, (I named her Laura Lamb) but my indignation at the bold words in the glass across the bottom of the window.  "Given in loving memory of her sister by Mary Stewart White" (Not her name).

     Every Sunday, I inwardly told Mary exactly what I thought of someone as conceited as she, wanting everyone to know of her generosity and not notice that she disliked her sister, for, of course, the inscription should have been ~ Given in loving memory of Lucy Stewart by her sister ~. 

     I imagined a wealthy (in money only) pampered, middle-aged woman.  Unfortunately, Mary is typical of a great many people.  Nevertheless, Mary reverse inspired me to do in-person nice acts for people without telling them my name. 

     An especially rewarding experience was when I drove to distant clients, or to visit family or friends, was to arrange my trips so that I could be in a rural area on a Sunday morning.  I looked for and stopped at a poor, little, often one-room protestant church with people entering it.  I told them that I was just passing through the area, then went in and sat in the back pew, often just a chair adjacent to a side aisle  so I could leave easily if I wished.  In my purse, I had several different colored, sealed envelopes, each containing a different amount of money.  I did not put anything in the collection plate.  Then depending on how friendly they were to me, before and after the service, and whether I liked the service, I would select an envelope and give it to the minister, leaving before he opened it.  Along with the money, I had a note with just three words on it, ~ Love from Joan.

     At one church, where I was the only Caucasian there, they gave me an especially warm welcome.  One matronly woman appointed herself as my guide, and sat beside me to find the hymns in the hymn book, and give loud whispered instructions.  There were no looks of disappointment when I failed to put anything in the collection plate.

     The minister welcomed me to the church, and everyone seconded the welcome, turning to smile a personal greeting to me.

     After the service, everyone spoke to me and I received three invitations to come for dinner.  Although tempted, these people had little money, and I did not want to eat their hard-earned food, so I declined, saying that I was expected elsewhere.

     Before I left, I shook hands with everyone and asked the minister to walk with me to my car as I explained about the envelopes.  Then I got into the car, started the engine, and handed him all the envelopes and drove away.  The contents of the envelopes totaled fifty dollars, which, at that time, was a lot of money for me, but I knew that for this group of people, it would be almost a fortune.

     I had noted the minister's name, as well as that of the church and its address.  When I returned home and told my parents of my experience, Mother went into action.  Soon there was more cash in an envelope with a note "Love from Joan's Family," which my Father mailed from New York City, as well as a sizeable package with a duplicate note; neither had a return address.  I, of course, used a pretty note card to thank them all for their warm welcome.  Mother was always clever about the things she put into gift packages for "the less fortunate."  This one contained a variety of nice things with which to decorate the church in various seasons.

  ~ Enjoy in-person anonymous gift giving. ~

 

Joan Eastman-Bennett