One woman's view: Collecting special moments
Contributing writer
A couple of weeks ago someone put me onto a dynamite program for beating the blahs — or at least ameliorating them. Make every day a reconnaissance mission searching for special moments to cherish. If you keep a journal, record them each day. If you don't care to keep a journal, it helps to at least jot them down on a list. I've been keeping mine on a small notepad like the ones you might use for a grocery list.
When I started this little project, I'm afraid my attitude had become quite negative. Creeping negativity is an easy disease to catch. There are always plenty of things to complain about in life, if that is what you are looking for. When you begin looking for the positive, the difference in your outlook is amazing.
On the grayest day I collected one special moment; some days I found three or four. In two weeks some items have appeared several times, and I make no apology for that. The singing of birds, for example, blesses me every time I hear it. Unfortunately, I only hear it if I listen. Birdsong is a delicate modulation easily drowned out by traffic noise, loud music or even our own discordant thoughts. Be still and listen!
Although I just castigated loud music for obliterating birdsong, music appears on my list several times as well — a Perry Como tape, a solo at my church's mother-daughter supper, an old "Ford Show" rerun with Tennessee Ernie Ford belting out "Noah Found Grace in the Eyes of the Lord."
Hugs appear on the list frequently. My very first day of moment collecting I saw a young woman in the grocery store with a toddler seated in her cart. They greeted another mother and child, and the girl in the cart reached her arms out to her peer for a hug. The other child could hardly have reached her if she had been interested, which she didn't appear to be. As the little girl on the floor walked away, the other extended her arms forlornly crying, "Hug! Hug!"
Stepping into the breach, I said, "I like hugs. Do you want to give me a hug?" She accepted my invitation, and we both went on our way happier.
A few Sundays ago, my pastor said in his sermon that everyone needs eight hugs a day. After church last Sunday, I exceeded that quota and felt blessed. The most enthusiastic one surprised me a little, as it came from a 13-year-old boy who sometimes seems reserved and very much on his dignity. I'm learning that almost everyone likes a hug if offered the opportunity.
Other special moments include sharing the activities of children and teenagers, anything that makes me laugh, colorful flowers growing wild by the roadside or cultivated in a neighbor's yard, receiving a card, gift or compliment, singing the "Doxology" at church, and watching a gigantic neighbor tenderly holding his very tiny daughter.
Such special moments are like herished keepsakes. You probably will not be surprised to learn that I consider the kitchen potentially the dreariest room in the home. In my kitchen, I combat that atmosphere with tiny trinkets I enjoy looking at for their intrinsic beauty and often as a reminder of a friend who gave me a special gift.
On the window sill above my sink are several small joys designed to distract me from the drudgery of washing dishes or peeling vegetables. My friend Madeline usually brings me something when she returns from her travels. Once it was a red rose fashioned from plastic spoons, surprisingly beautiful. It shares a vase with a yellow cloth flower which held rice at the wedding of my pastor's son. Next is a turtle made from the shell of an emu egg, a gift from Delores Frantz.
When I met my friend Twyla for lunch last summer, she gave me a basket of seashells. I choose a few at a time to grace the window sill. A heart sister at church gave me a springtime water globe featuring a watering can with a bird house and bluebirds. What could be more cheerful? Another heart sister gave me a small stuffed rabbit; it sits facing a wooden rabbit, which Diane Steiner made for me a few years ago. Between the water globe and the rabbits are a few lovely polished stones, also from Diane.
Hanging on the opposite side of my kitchen is my angel shelf. It holds seven diverse cherubs and seraphs. Most of these were gifts from heart sisters, heart children and friends. Thus my potentially dismal kitchen has become a place for mental revelry. If I keep my eyes on the shelf and the window sill, I don't even have to see the unmopped floor.
At times much is amiss with ome major aspects of my life. However, the little things are going just fine, thank you, and that can be enough. If you are going through your days with a "search and destroy" mentality, bend your outlook to "seek and treasure" instead. I'm here to testify it can enrich your life immensely.
