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Posts Tagged ‘Childhood’

Recently, I posted this quote on my Facebook page and was astounded by the reaction…and most astonished by who unexpectedly responded.  The Help was a good movie, but the book was better.  Maybe it was because I read the book first, and I find that my imagination version is usually more interesting than the celluloid version that a director creates.  When I read a book, I can picture what the characters look like, sound like and how the scenery appears.  But the best part about reading a book is the thrill of going back after seeing the movie and re-reading the book, just to see how much better it really is.  And it is…really better.

I remember when little Mae Mobley repeated what Aibileen had taught her.  You is kind. You is smart. You is important.  And in that moment, I knew that every child should have Aibileen, or someone, give them the knowledge that they are kind, they are smart, and they are important.  If more children had that lesson ingrained in them from their earliest days, we would have far less pain in the world.

People of all ages respond to being told they are important.  It isn’t just children who need the reinforcement of being told they are kind.  We all want to believe we are thought to be smart.  The triple threat – being kind, smart AND important.  Those traits are the making of leaders.  I think about the leaders I would follow.  They are all smart…and kind.  And that makes them important to me.  And the most important person in my life who is smart and kind is my husband.  If there was ever someone who should have been told over and over that he is kind, smart and important, it is my guy.

It also makes me think of another movie I saw recently.  Girl Rising.  It moved me that there are so many young girls fighting for the right to prove they are smart.  They fight for the right to an education.  And they are willing to do almost anything to get an education.  They shouldn’t have to go to the extremes these young girls did, just to go to school.  They are important.  And they should be able to prove it.  No one should hold them back.

For all the children, everywhere, you are kind…you are smart…you are important.  Believe it.  Live it.  Pass it on.

“The test of the morality of a society is what it does for its children.” ~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer  

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When I think of the things that make me the happiest, it’s always the little things in life.  When I went out to dinner last night with my hubby, we walked past the Baskin Robbins ice cream shop and memories came rushing back from my days in high school.  My dad loved Baskin Robbins Burgundy Cherry.  My mom’s favorite was Daquiri Ice. I still remember them ordering those over 35 years ago.  It wasn’t an expensive treat or that unusual.  But I remember those trips to BR like it was yesterday.  We all had such a good time looking at those 31 (or more) flavors and trying to decide what we would have…only to go back to the tried and true favorites!  We’d get a scoop (or two) and laugh and talk about whatever was on our minds, enjoying the afternoon together.

Today I went to lunch with a friend.  It wasn’t a special lunch…nothing fancy.  But it was one of those little things in life…time with a friend.  Last night, I worked at commencement and had the chance to help hood the master’s candidates.  All I was doing was making sure their hoods were on correctly before they participated in commencement.  They were wonderfully appreciative for the help.  And it felt great!  The little things.

This morning, my little baby kitty (5 year old baby, that is) curled up with me in bed as my alarm was going off, purring and rubbing his nose on mine and then he licked the tip of my nose.  It’s the little things in life…

Tonight, as I was driving home and the sun was shining and my sunroof was open to let the sunbeams in and the fresh breeze blow across my face, I realized how great it feels.  Little things make me smile.

Fourth of July fireworks, a walk on the beach picking up shells, a beautiful sunrise, snuggled up on the couch with a roaring fire and a glass of wine, a drive in the country down a tree-lined lane or a rainy day curled up in bed reading a good book.

“It’s the sweet simple things in life which are the real ones after all.” ~ Laura Ingalls Wilder

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When I was a kid, there were 3 channels.  Black and White Television.  No remote channel changers…unless you count my brother and me.  We were the human channel changers.  And I vividly remember when we got our first color television.  I could not get enough of those three channels.  And then…there were four!  How were we possibly going to have enough time to see all there was to see?  I know, that makes me old.

I loved watching the old Shirley Temple movies.  And there was nothing better than seeing commercials in color.  I could finally see the avocado green appliances and the color of the shag rugs in the homes of the characters who were wearing bell bottom jeans and psychedelic mini dresses.  They were awesome colors!  But I also remember being shocked that black & white movies didn’t turn to color just because the tv was a color tv.  🙂

This love of television did not stop at the shows.  Since my early childhood, I have been fascinated by commercials.  The funny ones, the sad ones, the ones with catchy jingles.  I love commercials.  Nothing made me cry as much as the Hallmark card commercials.  And the old commercials like “How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop” and “I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in the pan…” still run through my head like they were just shown yesterday.  And who can forget the Spot commercials from 7-Up? My favorite was Spot climbing up the chimney and finding a forgotten toy on the roof (and then swooping down the roof in that toy fire engine, through the tree and a window, landing under the Christmas tree).

Looking back now, I can’t get over how much fun television was back then.  Sometimes, I wish we could go back to that simpler time.  And then I turn on the tv and find hundreds of channels to view…and one dedicated to old movies, another dedicated to old sitcoms from back in the day…and the Food Network.  I LOVE the Food Network. And since we CAN’T go back in time, I’ll stay in the here-and-now and enjoy it.

Although the shows have changed and the channels have drastically increased over the years, my fascination with television ( and with commercials) hasn’t changed at all.

“Television is more interesting than people. If it were not, we would have people standing in the corners of our rooms.” ~ Alan Corenk

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Yep, I had this recurring dream for years.  I know the first recollection I have of the dream was about the time I was in Kindergarten.  The dream made no sense then and still doesn’t.  I’m not sure I believe in dream interpretation, but I do wish I knew why I had this dream over and over, year after year, until I was well into my adult years.

When I was just a little girl, I woke up with such a strange feeling…like I’d been running.  And I had been.  In my sleep.  I remembered the same part of the dream each time I dreamed it.  It never changed.  And it made absolutely no sense.

The dream started out with me hiding in a large cornfield.  It was a cornfield in the middle of Paris.  France, that is.  Not Texas.  I am not sure how I knew it was in Paris.  I just knew.  And I was crouching down, running through the cornfield, running away from gangsters.  Not gangstas!  Gangsters, like the ones in the movies.  You know.  Al Capone-type guys.  Wise guys.  With fedoras and trench coats over old-style pin-striped suits.  But no guns.  They were carrying scythes.  Cutting down the stalks of corn, trying to find me.

And I was never caught.  I ran up and down the rows of corn, ducking and hiding from the slashing scythes and the scary gangsters.  I don’t know why they were chasing me or why I was running from people who appeared to be from a different time period (at least, clothing-wise).   And I really am not sure what a cornfield was doing in the middle of Paris!  I think that is the part that puzzles me the most.

What is it about recurring dreams that mess with us so much?  I mean, I dream all kinds of strange dreams.  Most are almost immediately out of my head a few minutes after waking up, but I do remember some longer.  And they are usually just as odd as my Cornfield in Paris dream.  But I don’t dream them over and over.

Do you remember your dreams?  Do you have a recurring dream?  Do you believe in interpreting dreams?

” The interpretation of dreams is the royal road to a knowledge of the unconscious  activities of the mind.” ~ Sigmund Freud

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