Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
L'aura del campo WINTER: 5 Mulk (11 February) 37º and sunny at noon. 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣ Footprints in the snow for Nyia Page Tiny feet twitter where in Spring the swings will greet new critters and new kids. The young bird wakens from her sleep looking for her mother but it's not meant to be. Only wings of white surround her. She wanders 'round and soon no chirrups, no chitters, no sound comes from the woody knoll and among the scattering of feathers only her tiny tracks remain. [163.571] Nyia Page (2005-2007) was found frozen in a woody knoll in Braddock Pennsylvania, ten minutes from her house. She was wearing a sweater and diapers. She was 23 months old. Links for those who missed the gruesome story: http://www.wpxi.com/news/10974348/detail.html?rss=burg&psp=news http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/07040/760743-56.stm Death of a child I can only imagine what it is like for the family of Nyia Page. I have not had to deal with the death of a young child, but the murder of my friend's 18 year old son, Alvin Antrum, still deeply affects me. Losing a child at any age is devastating. I have a friend who never forgot how a 3 year old drowned in her backyard pond. Did my aunt ever forget her 7 year old son that she named after my father? He drowned in the Erie Canal. My mother's older sister Dorothea died at the age of two and is buried in Brush Creek Cemetery outside of Pittsburgh. She lived long enough to show up in the 1920 census. How many do we never know about? But I can assure you that the parents never forget. In the Baha'i Faith children are considered 'innocent' and no further burden is placed upon the family as to where the child will 'spend eternity'. The prayers for the Dead, therefore, are basically for adults, but this prayer of Baha'u'llah, would apply to any child living or dead (note: in almost all Baha'i prayers 'he' refers to both male and female): Prayer Praised be Thou, O Lord my God! Graciously grant that this infant be fed from the breast of Thy tender mercy and loving providence and be nourished with the fruit of Thy celestial trees. Suffer him not to be committed to the care of anyone save Thee, inasmuch as Thou, Thyself, through the potency of Thy sovereign will and power, didst create and call him into being. There is none other God but Thee, the Almighty, the All-Knowing. Lauded art Thou, O my Best Beloved, waft over him the sweet savors of Thy transcendent bounty and the fragrances of Thy holy bestowals. Enable him then to seek shelter beneath the shadow of Thy most exalted Name, O Thou Who holdest in Thy grasp the kingdom of names and attributes. Verily, Thou art potent to do what Thou willest, and Thou art indeed the Mighty, the Exalted, the Ever-Forgiving, the Gracious, the Generous, the Merciful. ~ Bahá’u’lláh Me, my friends and my family Hmmm ... Saturday ... talked to Chris who is going back to detox again and to Chrissy about how he needs to be careful on the streets (he's young but not dumb). Chrissy has been playing at Mr. Liberty for a local tax office that does this every year. He got sick, probably due to the cold, but went in yesterday anyway. I feel like dad telling him to wear thermal underwear. We talked about whether he should go to school. Apparently not. He is quite right brained, so an Art Institute might work. He loves to sing. I told him there is local theatre. One does the best helping young people find their way. I interviewed Carol about her love of trains. Started when she was a young girl and wanted a train set, but was told those were toys for boys. Today is her 68th birthday. She still loves trains. I'll try to work it up into a profile and post it somewhere here. She's touchy about going public with her life, so it may remain a semi-private item. I hung out in the coffeehouse reading blogs and waiting for the 15,000th view. I got tired of waiting and left. At 11:30 p.m. CST I have 14,999. I'm staying up to see the number flip. I'll reward someone for being the first blog comment after that. Didn't call family. Must tomorrow. IMAGES and RAMBLINGS At the soup kitchen: The Christmas tree still up in the corner with paper wreath and something pink on top; the tinkling of piano keys; loud talk; casaroles and cookies; the chairs being folded, stacked; loafs of unwanted bread; the flicker of florescent lights; scratched concrete floors. WATT'S GNU! The severe cold in the North East has lead to the sighting of arctic gulls in Pittsburgh, some never recorded since 1870, such as the Iceland and Thayer's gulls. This article shows a photo of a Glaucous gull. http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/07042/761235-85.stm For birders this is a rare opportunity, but it does demonstrate the climatic up and downs we are going through. The weather has been snowy back East. Still is! And cold. 12 in Jamestown New York. The cold has broken in the West though: 34 in Missoula, Montana; 46 in Monroe, Washington; 55 in San Francisco, CA and 57 in Ojai, CA. Here we will get a break today. 40s is predicted. Then back to cold. BLOGVILLE Trying to catch up with blogs again in my second round of reading. It takes a week to read everyone and post entries. When I went to bed, I had 15,001 views. This morning the first comment after that was from charlesthec! TREASURE India Deep in a religious pool of belief and culture Lost in a swarm of perfumes and sticky heat In love with India, the mystic woman of your dreams ... She gets little sleep but her love is golden and abundant Her sunken treasure, deep and binding bells and petals at her feet ... You are high on her Kashmir You have smoked the Chillum of India and now you are hers Her spirit is free A butterfly that always escapes the net of a prying captivator And you are mystified by the mysticism of India. excerpts from "India" by new WDC member Haidz . Please go and review her poem if you have the time to encourage this young newbie who is in South Africa studying to be a professional chef. 15,016 views ** Image ID #1134108 Unavailable ** Kåre Enga |