There is a lot I don’t know. I go with the flow the best I can. This is where I start.
Today’s word “Cabal derives from Medieval Latin cabala, a transliteration of Hebrew qabbalah, “received,” hence “traditional, lore,” from qabal, “to receive.” The evolution in sense is: “(secret) tradition”.(dictionary.com) Wikipedia says “The term cabal derives from Kabbalah (a word that has numerous spelling variations), the mystical interpretation of the Hebrew scripture, and originally meant either an occult doctrine or a secret. ” Hmmm, this could be construed as a good thing or a bad thing, like secrets… I try to give such things thought. I put the Jewish star on the page as a place to start. It remind me of snowflakes.
I look out the window to a winter wonderland. We have received a few inches of snow, which has settled on branches, and posts, roofs, and railings, bushes and grass and stone. My mind wanders. I take a picture of my Seuss & Frog friends near the computer. Years ago I named the frog Pallas. I don’t know why. I suppose it’s because all dolls in the house had to have a name, even if it was the name on the tag on their foot, they had a name. There was a rare photo in the paper the other day, showing Helen Keller and Anne Sullivan. Helen’s doll was on her lap. Her first word was “doll”, so there must be something to the naming of things or at least spelling things out. Apparently it’s important, since we’ve been doing it awhile.
I recall when I read:
The child shall be entitled from his birth to a name and a nationality. (Declaration of the Rights of the Child, proclaimed by General Assembly resolution 1386 (XIV) of November 20, 1959
I didn’t know people might not name a child, did you? Hard to believe some of the things we have to put in writing, isn’t it? Children all have a name. Children deserve more than just a name, they deserve our love, protection, a future…My mother gave me a name and prepared me the best she could for the future. There was always a twist, though, always something unseen. But even the blind can see, if shown.
My mom used to say, “if the aliens were watching us right now, what do you think they would think about that?” My mom had an unusual perspective on life, from the time she got on her hands and knees to see the world from our perspective to the day she left this planet, it was always a little different. It meant something. I have a picture in the kitchen, two roosters standing next to each other, one has a regular red rooster “comb” and the other a hair comb atop it’s head with the words, “Dare to be Different” on it. After I inherited this stained and yellowed poster in a cheap, plastic, avocado frame that we probably got from Woolworth’s years ago, it grew on me, more and more every day. So I dare to be a little different now and then. I name names now and then. I go out there a little. I hear or see things differently sometimes. But then, I am just in flow.
Now as I am typing this the beau turns the Outer Limits show on, the episode is The Message. It has Marlee Matlin in it, and according to Wikipedia (summary of this particular episode) some aliens were headed into the sun and tried to get help, sending signals through the woman’s cochlear implant. A deaf woman “hears”. Uh huh. One connection made. The woman was a receiver.
Opening narration: “There is the silence of the oceans and the unending silence of space. There is the welcome silence of serenity and the everlasting silence of death. A cry for help is lost in the shrill noise of the world, but the faintest of whispers, when spoken in silence, can resonate across a universe.
Until someone listened, many children’s voices were “unheard”. Many still go unheard. “Children should be seen and not heard” was the rule. Now what?
I don’t know. My eye goes back to the window again, the snow is falling after a short break. I think, how beautiful, I wish I could take a photo, but the logitech doesn’t pick it up very well out the window. It seems I have been in a time warp, my mind traveling as I looked for another photo. On the screen the aliens bubbles of light are seen. The character says “Beautiful, we saved them.”
Someone dared to be a little different, to see things different. It was just a TV show though, wasn’t it?
Closing narration: “There is no sound, no voice, no cry in all the world that can be heard… until someone listens.”
I go back to principal number three. But there is more. How can we save the children, protect them, do more, I think…like snowflakes each are different and unique. Hard to believe we have to write some things down, “The child shall be entitled from his birth to a name and a nationality.”
I need more. I am in flow, but not done yet. I travel again…this time to another blog. I have yet to hear the news of the day, but for a moment of weather news. I am rarely in charge of the controller. The channels flip a lot. The blog is my daily check, Consider Jesus. Her blog is one of a few that I look at every day. Sometimes a simple verse written in someone else’s blog gives me inspiration, another prespective, a moment of distraction. Today her blog is different.
The red catches my eye, but it isn’t something I want to look at. According to her blog I am looking at a photo of the blood-soaked tallit (prayer shawl) of one of the murdered students whose body was found on the floor, still holding to his chest the Bible commentary he had been studying at the moment of his death. She asks for the reader to pray with her. I do. Someone else’s children have been killed.
Who will hear the voices on earth who call out on days such as these?
The bottom line in the blog reads, “Let us pray for the peace of Jerusalem. Shabbat Shalom”
I try to give such things thought. I never know what I will have when I start a blog entry. Today it was different.