September 2016
Page 35
Windsor Writers
In retrospect, I am happy to report that in the midst of some of the
most turbulent storms that life has presented to me, I have found
more than my share of happy places. For instance, I find happiness
in eating out at nice restaurants now and then; I find happiness in
discovering a great shoe sale; I am happy spending time with my
grandchildren; I am more than happy to teach math and science
and Biblical accounts. But eventually the food is consumed, the shoes
wear out, the grandchildren grow into contentiousness (every day
spent with them is not euphoric), and students cannot retain 100
percent of what they have been taught. Happy is a temporary state
of mind. Therefore, I’ve chosen to reserve “happy” for Mahogany,
American, and Hallmark greeting card companies. They are happy
with the revenue generated for special occasion well wishes. Our
happiness is their responsibility and certainly their gain!
As a pastor, chaplain, and teacher, people often ask me to explain
the difference between “happy” and “joy”. I will usually respond
with, “Everyone can put on a happy face, but we cannot fake joy—
it comes from within. Believers in most faith traditions will admit that
joy is found in knowing that their God or gods have their back—that
no matter how deep or dark the transgression may be, forgiveness
and grace will be granted by their higher power.”
There is something eternal about joy. Joy is usually associated with
words like peace, communion with others, safe havens, and the
absence of fear. Yet joy, as opposed to happiness, carries a heavier
burden, a deeper commitment, and a higher price. So should we all
be seeking happiness or joy?
In the Absence of Fear
by Sheila Johnson
I have a story about joy. Layton, my grandson, was born with a
genetic disorder that is identified by its abbreviated name as
dup15q. On his DNA strand the fifteenth chromosome is duplicated.
This duplication confuses chromosomes sixteen through twenty-three.
The physiological and biological characteristics of this disorder
present themselves differently in each person in the dup15q
spectrum. In my experience with the children with dup15q in our
local support group, I observed that they all smile and laugh a lot.
Most are non-verbal, but they have created their own method of
communication. Most will never be potty trained, they love to run
free, they absolutely love water, they are not afraid of loud noises,
barking dogs, lightening, or thunder. They are easily tickled and
are immune to outside distractions. Imagine not having any fears,
creating your own language, smiling and laughing all the time,
running without boundaries, feeling safe in any storm, and having
the ability to block out all distractions! Sounds like pure joy to me!
This may not sound like joy to most, and it is certainly challenging
to parents, custodians, or caretakers, but these little ones are filled
with joy! They don’t know hate, racism, sadness, or fear. They may
march to the beat of a different drum, but they never cease to
march on for life. They may be non-verbal, but they sing their own
melodies while creating their own words. Although they may never
live independently, they will always be unaware of the burden they
present. Should we be seeking happiness or joy?
I walk for various reasons each day. It has become a part of my
life. The complex of Windsor Gardens is beautiful to walk around.
But sometimes in my hurried way to get from here to there I don't
see everything. Oh, I see and hear the cars, which is good when
crossing the streets, but actually seeing things is something else.
A young lady from PBS had come to Windsor Gardens for the first
time to pick me up for a luncheon. She kept saying over and over
how beautiful the grounds were. "The Flowers, the trees! I never
dreamed there was such a beautiful place to live in Denver." Of
course this made me very proud that I was living here.
My son came to visit for the 4th and we walked to Blossoms. On the
way we stopped at different entrances and took time to LOOK at
the flowers.
My perception of flowers has changed. They are no longer Flowers
but FLOWERS! As my escort from PBS had said, "What a beautiful
place to live in."
And I say, Thank you, THANK YOU! to the grounds people who do
the work to make this a BEAUTIFUL place to live!
Flowers or FLOWERS!
by Kay Mauser
Whoever first exposed me to the Nonsense Poem of Lewis Carroll
must have read it in a most dramatic tone because I remember
feeling just an ounce of fear whisked into my laughter.
For those of you who don't recall it:
Twas Brillig and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mumsy where the borogroves
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Beware the Jabberwocky my son!
So, here is my take on the political conventions in nonsense rhyme:
Beware the boistering zepublities
Twas baboonery and the cloving strump
Did swythe and shumber in the bumble
All futid where the blether skates
And the lunk brunts out frumble
Beware next week the donkocrats
Twill be Hillothy and the planking Kaing
who spool and cribble in the hank
All putrie where the codwall wops
And the brack Shtabs out schlank.
And this was my stultiloquent effort.
Beware My Son
by Carole Gauntlett
