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#CaringForCommunity: Kindness in Thought and in Deed

#CaringForCommunity is a blog series that spotlights the work of writers, artists, or your next-door neighbors who, without being asked and without pay, carry the light in simple but meaningful ways. These are people giving back in order to lift others up. Real life examples of compassion, concern, and inspiration.

Today, I’m sharing link to thoughts on kindness and kind thoughts in action.

Kindness in Thought

Amy Krouse Rosenthal is an accomplished author of children’s books and memoirs and a page full of videos about life and love and wisdom. Even so, her name was new to me when it came across my Facebook feed last week. Rosenthal wrote a heartfelt (and heartbreaking) essay for the New York Times Modern Love column (which you should definitely read). She also created this Thought Bubble video back in 2010 on being Kind.

Based solely on her essay and this video, I imagine Amy Krouse Rosenthal has been the epitome of kind long before her Modern Love essay went viral. We would do well to carry her message and her spirit into our own daily actions.

Kindness in Deed

Speaking of actions, Tricklebee Cafe, a local restaurant in Milwaukee, practices kindness and care in all they do. Tricklebee serves lunch Wednesdays through Saturdays, 11am to 2pm, and provides locally-sourced meals to customers whether or not they can foot the bill.

“Tricklebee Café is a pay-what-you-can community café that offers healthy meals, food-service training, and spiritual nourishment. We offer a space to foster community, connections, goodwill, and a love for real food with simple ingredients. By offering an inclusive and welcoming space, we hope to bring some positivity to this neighborhood that greatly needs peace and understanding.”

(In the photo above, volunteers are making snack bags for kids in the neighborhood. Any time the doors to the cafe are open, hungry kids can stop by and take one bag of healthy snacks.)

It all sounds dreamy, impossible, over the top generous, and maybe you’re thinking, What’s the catch? That’s just it. There is none. There is only the spirit of warm hearts caring for community by making sure everyone has a seat at the table and a plate full of healthy food. Yes, the cafe is part of the Moravian Church of America, but as Executive Director Reverend Christie Melby-Gibbons says (in this OnMilwaukee article), “we’re also supportive of interfaith dialog…. We want it to be a safe and peaceful place for everyone, including Muslims, people of the Jewish faith and anyone who wants to gather.”

That kind of generosity spreads, grows, and blossoms in hearts and souls inside and outside of the cafe. Amy Krouse Rosenthal would be proud.

Visit Tricklebee’s Facebook page for photos and details on upcoming events. Check out their website to view their Wish List and information on how to volunteer.

“How do we collectively, as a people, want to be remembered?”
~ Amy Krouse Rosenthal

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#Quotable: The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane

Later that night, Jack came and sat next to Bull and asked if he could borrow the rabbit. Bull handed Edward over, and Jack sat with Edward upon his knee. He whispered in Edward’s ear. “Helen,” Jack said, “and Jack Junior and Taffy — she’s the baby. Those are my kids’ names. They are all in North Carolina. You ever been to North Carolina? It’s a pretty state. That’s where they are. Helen. Jack Junior. Taffy. You remember their names, okay, Malone?”

. . . .

Edward knew what it was like to say over and over again the names of those you had left behind. He knew what it was like to miss someone. And so he listened. And in his listening, his heart opened wide and then wider still.

We write to remember, we write to reflect. Fiction or non, your stories matter. Who will you honor on the page?

* DiCamillo, Kate; Ibatoulline, Bagram (2009-08-30). The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane (p. 103). Candlewick Press. Kindle Edition.

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The Woman on the Mantel: #Artifacts&Memory

Carved in clay but never fired, she raises more questions than her presence might answer.

I know the artist, the name scratched into the base: Betti jo–my mother. I know the studio where the woman came into being: 4101 York Street, the attic space turned art room. I know her approximate year: 1980.

What I don’t know:

Self-portrait or face of a stranger?
Left unfired by intention or by resignation?
A woman content or resolute? Perhaps both.

What I imagine:

A Sunday afternoon, bright and temperate–outside and in. Kids preoccupied in the yard; husband drawn into football downstairs. She’s been to church, served roast at lunch, cleared the dishes. Usually, it is now that she would nap, but today she slips into the art room and unwraps a cool piece of clay.

She throws it against the table once, twice–pauses, listens. A third time quick, then she readies her hands and the water. With her thumbs she massages the forehead into shape, slow and meticulous. As she smoothes out that space just above the eyebrows, the creases between her own release, her thoughts loosen. She breathes in, breathes out, the scent of clay like a balm. She forms the nose and the nostrils and scratches her own. The nose is too big, she is sure, but the way it turns up at the end makes her grin. The lips, she crafts smaller than her own and more relaxed in a way, and here she stops to consider. Laughter from her girls outside lifts like the wind, and their voices slip in under the sash, curl up and around her shoulders, tickle the back of her neck. Happy.

~

Patty Dann (The Butterfly Hours) says, “All good writing is a blend of memory and imagination,” and as I study the woman on my mantel, I know Dann is right. Artifacts form the base of our memories, but we are often left to fill in the gaps. We do this out of curiosity, out of necessity, out of love. Family Stories from the Attic (Hidden Timber Books, April 1, 2017) is an anthology full of such writing. Co-edited by Lisa Rivero and myself, these stories of exploration by twenty-two authors will inspire you to uncover your own family letters, diaries, photographs, and more, if only to reflect on the real and the imagined and–as always–the loved. Watch for information on pre-ordering and the book launch soon.