Can you imagine what our world would look like if, instead of wasting our time worrying about feeding our egos and naming buildings after ourselves and seeking revenge on those we think are our enemies, we instead spent our time being kind and fair, and making sure we did right by each other?
Just a thought.
Alrighty. Carry on then…
As Abraham Lincoln said in his Gettysburg Address – our government is “of the people, by the people, for the people.” It’s not meant to dictate to us. We are meant to dictate to it.
I have recently been involved in some interesting discussions about our Bill of Rights and what it means – particularly the provision in the First Amendment for peaceful protest.
I think there are things that should be considered non-partisan: decency, fairness, equity, kindness, wisdom, honesty. And there are certain things that no party should tolerate: cruelty, inhumanity, bigotry, racism, misogyny, dishonesty.
In a thread on a friend’s FB wall, one poster pointed out that 56-67 ICE detainees died during the time of the Obama administration. (Note that according to The Guardian, “Thirty-two people died in Immigration and Customs Enforcement [ICE] custody in 2025 – making it the agency’s deadliest year in more than two decades, as the Trump administration moved to detain a record number of people.”)
In a comment to another poster, I wrote: “…thank you for reminding us all that this is a non-partisan issue, and whenever our Bill of Rights is ignored – no matter what administration is in charge – it is our duty to protest to make sure we keep our rights.”
To which, that poster replied, “…well the left treats it like Its (sic) a partisan issue and only sends (sic) to have a problem because trump is doing it. If you’re gonna protest then you need to protest when the left does it or allow when the right does it too. Its (sic) not rules for thee and not for me.”
To which, I posted the photo below – of me marching in a local migrant farmworkers’ march in 2012, during the Obama administration.
And no, I certainly don’t think any of us should EVER “allow” cruelty, injustice, inhumanity – regardless of which party is sitting in the White House. Activism – fighting for the rights of others, and for our own rights – doesn’t begin when one party gets in office, and end when another party gets in office. It should be, I think, a lifelong commitment to our country, and our world.
Another poster posted a response that gave me my first laugh out loud of the day. I’m still cracking up. 😀 Here’s a screenshot of that conversation…
I’m finding a sense of humor is essential to keeping one’s sanity in these interesting times. 😀
It was dark and cold and I needed to get out of the house and find some magic.
I drove towards La Conner, took a left, another left, and a right, and ended up at Kohl’s in Burlington. I rarely shop at Kohl’s, but I found myself heading towards their door. I meandered towards the back of the store and looked to the left, and this is where I found magic!
There was a happy little toddler there, busily pushing one of those toy popper mowers and my heart just melted at the sight of him. He was joy personified! I looked around to see who he was with, and found his mom and dad watching him from the aisle. They saw me grinning and laughing, tickled by their little boy, and started laughing with me. After a couple of attempts, I realized the little one’s mom and dad didn’t speak English – I think they were speaking Oaxacan – but we managed to communicate without words, and I was able to let them know I wanted to buy the popper toy for their toddler. They nodded and smiled, and followed me as I went to the cashier to pay for the toy. When I’d bought the popper mower, I brought it back to the little one – who was sitting in the cart now – and thanked him for the pleasure of meeting him today. It – all of it! – was magic!
I wandered around the shopping area for a while then – to See’s for some California brittle – to Petco to watch the fish. And then I drove to Fred’s for some impulse shopping.
I picked up a bag of oranges, a bag of apples, cherry tomatoes, cat food, yogurt, and went to the cashier to pay. She asked me how I was doing and I told her it was cold and dark and I needed to come to Fred’s and buy impulse items. “Like cat food,” I said, “and I don’t even have a cat!” She started laughing with me. I told her nah, I was just joking.
It brings me joy to be with people who know how to laugh with me.
It was still cold and dark outside as I drove home, but now my inside was all warmed up with laughter.
PUPS!!! So many sweet pups on the boardwalk today! They brought me such joy, filled my heart all up with good things. There were two Lilahs; a Motley; Aspen with her human, Ash, ; Gypsy; my old friend, Daisy, with her buddy, Melody; Akira, who danced down the boardwalk; and my old friend, Baker – who came bounding down the boardwalk to greet me.
The bay was beautiful today, too – blue and shiny, with fog on one side, and the Canadian Coastals on the other.
The road above Taylor Dock to Fairhaven was closed because of construction, so I went up one block to by-pass the blocked street and then came down into Fairhaven from above. I felt Cafe Blue calling to me – I haven’t been there for a while and was missing the welcoming vibe. Cafe Blue has always been packed full of people when I’ve been there, so I mentally prepared myself for that. I figured if I couldn’t find a place to sit, I’d just get a coffee to go and take it with me on my walk back to my car.
Cafe Blue WAS packed again today, but, cosmically, as soon as I got done giving my order and started looking for a table, one opened up! It was a table for four and I felt kind of greedy sitting there – so I put myself in the corner of the table, ready to offer the rest of the table to whoever was looking for a place to sit.
My coffee arrived and I settled into the space, closed my eyes for a minute and just let myself absorb the joy around me. When I opened my eyes I saw a couple of young women who looked like they were looking for a place to sit. I offered them the open seats at my table and they sat there until the table next to mine opened up for them. One of the women, Elena, had cool rings on every finger, and I asked her about them. She said the one on her thumb had been made by her grandma, and the other rings were ones she’d mostly found in shops around Bellingham – rings with art and cool quartz and tiger’s eye rocks. I told her I love rocks, too, and reached for my amber necklace to show it off to her – and then I realized I’d forgotten to wear it today. Elena laughed and said that happens to her, too – just when she wants to show off something, she doesn’t have it with her.
I enjoy the feeling of community I always feel in the Cafe Blue – strangers smiling at each other, sharing tables, becoming friends. That’s the way it should always be.
Fred’s was full of Seahawks fever today. They’ve got this big screen tv set up in the middle of the store with a comfy chair in front of it. Highlights from Seahawks games are playing on the screen, and every time I passed the TV, I stopped to watch for a moment – Bobo catching a touchdown pass; Smith-Njigba running the ball in for six points. So fun!
Today there was a man seated in the comfy chair, watching the highlights with a smile on his face. I recognized him as the man who worked in the big bookstore in the Cascade Mall maybe 30 or 35 years ago. We exchanged smiles and greetings and watched the highlights together for a bit.
There were so many sweet toddlers in Fred’s today – and, being the grandmother of a toddler, I find myself wanting to exchange smiles with each and every sweet one of them. Such joy!
I ran into an old teaching colleague, Rob, at Fred’s. I tailgated him with my cart until he finally turned around to see who was behind him, and then his face lit up in recognition. He smiled and asked how I was doing. I said, “You know…” I asked him how he was doing and he said, “Same.” We gave each other a hug and wished each other a good day and exchanged one more smile before we moved on.
There was a young man in the store – early thirties maybe – and we kept passing each other in the produce section. Every time we’d pass each other, we’d smile. And this young man’s smile was so genuine and kind that I got a sudden image of what he would have looked like as a smiling toddler – and that put a grin on my face.
After I was done with my shopping, I went to the in-store Starbucks to get myself something to drink. There were a couple people waiting in line in front of me. I saw that the barista was manning the counter all by herself – busily whipping up coffees for the people who’d already ordered. And I came to a decision. I leaned into the people in front of me – a woman of maybe my age and a younger woman with a young child in her cart – and I said that I wanted to buy their drinks for them – that way the barista would only have to ring up one transaction.
The younger woman, Kelsey, said she’d feel guilty letting me pay, but the woman of about my age, Shelly, knew that I really wanted to do this for them, and convinced Kelsey to agree to my offer. By this time another young woman had gotten behind us, and I said I wanted to take care of her, too. She initially resisted, but eventually gave in and let me buy for her. I told them that I really needed to do this for MYSELF today.
And so when it was our turn, I stepped up and ordered two cake pops (one each for the younger women’s children), an iced caramel macchiato for Kelsey, and a “senior coffee” for Shelly to bring to her husband, and a hot caramel macchiato for myself. Everyone thanked me, and Shelly said she was going to be sure to “pay it forward” later in the day. It’s amazing how much joy I got from connecting with those women.
There were more smiles as I exited Fred’s with my cart and drink – a customer smiled and motioned for me to go ahead of him; a Fred’s employee who was walking out of the store in front of me, turned around and offered a big smile; another employee smiled and wished me a good day. These little exchanges – these little kindness in life are powerful, my friends.
I smiled the whole way home.
I walk with Love along the way,
And O, it is a holy day;
No more I suffer cruel fear,
I feel God’s presence with me here;
The joy that none can take away
Is mine; I walk with Love today.
– Christian Science Hymnal #139
Go Seahawks! Also yay to TRUTH JUSTICE and KINDNESS.
When I drove by the courthouse just before noon, there was only one sign-holder there. I honked in support, then I parked my car and pulled out my TRUTH JUSTICE KINDNESS sign to join him on the corner. Dylan had started back to his bike by the time I got out of my car, but when he saw me, he turned around and came back to join me on the corner.
Dylan was so fun! I think what had brought him to the courthouse with his sign was the same thing that had brought me today – the murders in Minnesota. But, in spite of the fact that we were drawn there by tragedy, Dylan was one of those people it’s easy to laugh with, too.
I’d worn my Seahawks shirt today, and I found that when people looked grumpy at seeing my TRUTH JUSTICE KINDNESS sign, all I had to do was reveal my Seahawks shirt and yell “Go Seahawks!” and they’d start laughing and give me the thumbs up. Dylan said I should have had “Go Seahawks!” on the other side of my TRUTH JUSTICE KINDNESS sign and then I could just flip it back and forth, depending on our audience. 
Not long after Dylan and I joined forces on the corner, another sign-bearer joined us: my FB friend, Tele. Now we were three! I introduced Dylan and Tele to each other and we got a group photo. Dylan had to leave to get to work then, but just about the time Dylan left, we were joined by Teri. And then Kelsey joined us. I introduced myself as the Karen in the group – because every group needs one – and we had fun putting our names together: Tele, Teri, Kelsey, and Karen. I love alliteration.
I’d been parked for an hour by then, in a spot that was limited to an hour, and it was time for me to go. But I so enjoyed connecting with Dylan and the two Ts and the other K.
I drove to Fred’s with the idea of getting a mocha and maybe a pastry. Sitting outside the store was a man, holding a sign for help. I asked him if I could get him a coffee and he said that would be nice. I asked him what kind he’d like and he said a mocha would be good.
The store was full of Seahawks fans – blue and green everywhere. I’m glad I’d worn my Seahawks shirt today.
Just inside the store was a rack of little pies on sale for 50 cents each. I got two of those – one for the man outside, and one for myself – and then ordered two mochas from the baristas.
I brought the man his mocha and asked him if he liked pies – which he did. He thanked me for the pie and mocha, and said, “God bless.” And I wished him well.
And now I’m home, watching the Broncos and Patriots do battle in the snow. Pretty soon the Seahawks will take to the field in Seattle.
Go Seahawks! Also TRUTH JUSTICE KINDNESS!
I had such fun today!
I started my to-do list with a trip to the bank. There was a man with a Latino accent next to me at the counter, and we made small talk for a while while the bankers took care of us. We both finished our business at the same time, and exited the bank, smiled and wished each other a good day. And then he put out his arms for a hug! I was so touched by this. We hugged and then I unzipped my fleece jacket and showed him I was wearing my “EVERYONE IS WELCOME HERE” shirt. His face lit up in a big smile and he thanked me.
After the bank, I drove into Mount Vernon and parked near the Red Apple market. I brought out my “TRUTH JUSTICE KINDNESS” sign and brought it with me as I walked, first, to the courthouse – to put my school levy ballot in the courthouse ballot box – and then down to the Co-Op for a breve.
As I walked to the Co-Op with my sign, a couple of people honked and gave me a thumbs up, and one person yelled out her window, “I love your sign!” That made me smile.
I passed a shop window with wedding dresses topped with Seahawks t-shirts, and that made my smile even bigger.
When I got to the Co-Op, I gave my breve order to a cheery cashier named Annabelle. When Annabelle asked for a name to put on my breve, I cringed and said, “Karen. It’s so embarrassing.”
Annabelle started laughing and said, “So you know about that?” And then she said, “But you’re one of the nice Karens.” And then, of course, I had to take her picture because she was so cool.
Annabelle told me my drink was going to take about ten minutes – they were very busy at the Co-Op today – and I let her know that wasn’t a problem.
As I’d been walking to the Co-Op, I’d gotten it into my noggin that I wanted a picture of me holding my sign underneath the painting of my friend, the late great John “Peace Wizard” Bromet, that was hanging in the Co-Op. I trusted I would find the right person to take the picture for me when the time came. And I did! As soon as I started up the stairs to the loft, I spied a man sitting at a table facing me, and I just knew he was the man I needed for this job! I approached him and asked him (I learned his name was Andy) if he could take the photo for me. Andy smiled and said of course he could do that for me.
Then I went back downstairs to see if my breve was ready, and this is when I heard someone calling my name. I looked over to see my old friend, Pat, sitting at a table with a buddy. Pat introduced me to his friend, Nils, as the daughter of Dee Molenaar – Nils is a mountaineer and had heard of Dad. He asked my name and I said, “Karen. Because every place needs a Karen, right?” Nils and Pat laughed and we chatted for a while, then my breve was ready, and I brought it with me back down the street to the courthouse for the noon rally.
I saw the regular noon rally crew there – Marilyn and John and Ginny – but there was a whole host of new people I hadn’t met before, too. Across the street there was a young man dancing to music and holding his rally sign, and I just had to join the “dancing man.” I learned the dancing man’s name is Isaac, and that he’s involved with the Community-to-Community organization. Isaac had picked out the music that was playing over the loudspeakers and it was great! One of my favorites was “A Change is Gonna Come.” How perfect!
Such joy! I can’t remember ever having more fun at a rally. The Canadians hosted the gathering at Peace Arch Park today and they always pick the best music: Stand By Me, Bridge Over Troubled Water, We Are the World, You’ve Got a Friend, What a Wonderful World.
There’s something really cool about Americans and Canadians standing shoulder-to-shoulder in unity at our border. The lines into Canada were packed today – I saw license plates from Washington, Oregon, California, Idaho, and British Columbia – cars full of smiling people of every color and race – giving us the thumbs up, cheering, honking, waving. I was so inspired by the positive energy and kindness I witnessed today.
At one point I strolled three yards to the Canadian side of the border marker in the park, just to see how things were going up north. Then I traveled back to the States, where my fellow American, Steve, asked me how my travels to Canada had gone. I told him I’d had a great trip.
I ran into our old Bow neighbors, Carol and Don, who used to own the Rhododendron Cafe. It was so good to see them again! They live not far from Peace Ark Park now, and this isn’t the first Peace Arch rally they’ve attended.
And – get this! – I saw someone who looked very much like my former student, Hector, waving and grinning from one of the cars in the line to the border. I grinned and waved back – but I thought, “Nah. That can’t be Hector. What would he be doing here?” Later, Hector texted me to confirm that it was him!
As I was leaving the rally, holding my TRUTH JUSTICE KINDNESS sign so it faced the lines of cars – cars were still honking at me, and people were waving. The support today was so encouraging!
**
At one of the rallies I participated in last week, a tall young Black man joined us and we exchanged “how are you doing?”s. We both decided to cross the road at the same time. As we crossed, he looked down at me and grinned and said, “I’ll protect you.” I looked up at him and smiled and said, “And I’ll protect you!” It was such a lovely exchange. Just had to share.
My thanks to employee Robby at Fred Meyer’s who stopped what he was doing to come help me get the item I wanted from the toppiest shelf. Robby was very cool.
I took a moment to tell a father with an unhappy child in his cart what a good job he was doing – I saw his patience and calm as he talked his son through a difficult moment. He grinned and thanked me for noticing.
As I was going through the checkout I chatted and connected with my cashier, Patty, who is a former neighbor of mine. Then I turned to the woman sitting in a wheelchair behind me in line, and said, “Hello!” I think I took her by surprise because she got a big grin on her face before giving me a hello back. The man who was with her – her son maybe? – smiled at me, too. The woman said to Patty (referring to me), “She’s chatty.” And Patty laughed and explained that we used to be old neighbors. “We go waaay back,” I said, laughing.
I got to the door to exit, and there was another woman there, preparing to head out into the parking lot. It was dumping rain out there, and the woman and I looked at the rain and then at each other and started spontaneously laughing. “Hoods up!” I said, bringing my hood over my head. She pointed out that she didn’t have a hood. I gave her a quick nod, like we were comrades going into battle, and wished her good luck. She smiled and returned my good wishes.
Christmas Eve, 1988. I was in a funk. I couldn’t see that I was making much progress in my life. My teaching career seemed to be frozen, and I was beginning to think my husband and I would never own our own home or have children. The world seemed a very bleak and unhappy place to me. No matter how many batches of fudge I whipped up or how many times I heard Bing Crosby sing “White Christmas,” I couldn’t seem to find the Christmas spirit.
I was washing the breakfast dishes, thinking my unhappy thoughts, when I heard gunshots coming from the pasture behind our house. I thought it was the neighbor boys shooting at the seagulls again and, all full of teacherly harrumph, decided to take it upon myself to go out and “have a word with them.”
But after I’d marched outside I realized that it wasn’t the neighbor boys at all. John, the dairy farmer who lived on the adjoining property, was walking away with a rifle, and an animal (a calf, I thought) was struggling to get up in the field behind our house. Every time it would push up on its legs it would immediately collapse back to the ground.
I wondered if maybe John had made a mistake and accidentally shot the animal, so I ran out to investigate and found that the animal was a dog. It had foam and blood around its muzzle. She was vulnerable and helpless – had just been shot, after all – but instead of lashing out at me or growling as I’d expect an injured animal to do, she was looking up at me with an expression of trust and seemed to be expecting me to take care of her.
“John!” I yelled, running after the farmer. He turned around, surprised to see me. “John, what happened?” I asked, pointing back towards the dog.
A look of remorse came into his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry you saw that, Karen. The dog is a stray and it’s been chasing my cows. I had to kill it.”
“But John, it’s not dead yet.”
John looked back at the dog and grimaced. “Oh man,” he said. “I’m really sorry. I’ll go finish the job. Put it out of its misery.”
By this time another dog had joined the dog that had been shot. It was running around its friend, barking encouragement, trying to get its buddy to rise up and escape. The sight of the one dog trying to help his comrade broke my heart. I made a quick decision. “Let me and my husband take care of it.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and he agreed to let me do what I could for the animal.
Unbeknownst to me, as soon as I ran out of the house my husband, knowing that something was wrong, had gotten out his binoculars and was watching my progress in the field. He saw the look on my face as I ran back. By the time I reached our house he was ready to do whatever he needed to do to help me. I explained the situation to him, we put together a box full of towels, and he called the vet.
As we drove his truck around to where the dog lay in the field, I noticed that, while the dog’s canine companion had finally left the scene (never to be seen again), John had gone to the dog and was kneeling down next to her. He was petting her, using soothing words to comfort her, and the dog was looking up at John with that look of trust she’d given me. John helped my husband load her in the back of the truck and we began our drive to the vet’s.
I rode in the back of the truck with the dog as my husband drove, and sang hymns to her. As I sang words from one of my favorite hymns from the Christian Science Hymnal– “Everlasting arms of Love are beneathe, around, above” – the dog leaned against my shoulder and looked up at me with an expression of pure love in her blue eyes.
Once we reached the animal clinic, the veterinarian came out to take a look at her. After checking her over he told us that apparently a bullet had gone through her head, that he’d take care of her over the holiday weekend – keep her warm and hydrated – but that he wasn’t going to give her any medical treatment. I got the distinct impression that he didn’t think the dog was going to make it.
My husband and I went to my parents’ home for the Christmas weekend, both of us praying that the dog would still be alive when we returned. For me, praying for her really meant trying to see the dog as God sees her. I tried to realize the wholeness and completeness of her as an expression of God, an idea of God. I reasoned that all the dog could experience was the goodness of God – all she could feel is what Love feels, all she could know is what Truth knows, all she could be is the perfect reflection of God. I tried to recognize the reality of these things for me, too, and for all of God’s creation.
She made it through the weekend, but when we went to pick her up the vet told us that she wasn’t “out of the woods, yet.” He told us that if she couldn’t eat, drink, or walk on her own in the next few days, we’d need to bring her back and he’d need to put her to sleep.
We brought her home and put her in a big box in our living room, with a bowl of water and soft dog food by her side. I continued to pray. In the middle of the night I got up and went out to where she lay in her box. Impulsively, I bent down and scooped some water from the dish into her mouth. She swallowed it, and then leaned over and drank a little from the bowl. I was elated! Inspired by her reaction to the water, I bent over and grabbed a glob of dog food and threw a little onto her tongue. She smacked her mouth together, swallowed the food, and leaned over to eat a bit more. Now I was beyond elated! She’d accomplished two of the three requirements the vet had made for her!
The next day I took her out for a walk. She’d take a few steps and then lean against me. Then she’d take a few more steps and lean. But she was walking! We would not be taking her back to the veterinarian.
In the next two weeks her progress was amazing. By the end of that period she was not only walking, but running and jumping and chasing balls. Her appetite was healthy. She was having no problems drinking or eating.
But one of the most amazing parts of this whole Christmas blessing was the relationship that developed between this dog and the man who had shot her. They became good friends. The dog, in fact, became the neighborhood mascot. (And she never again chased anyone’s cows.)
What the dog brought to me, who had, if you recall, been in a deep funk when she entered our lives, was a sense of the true spirit of Christmas – the Christly spirit of forgiveness, hope, faith, love. She brought me the recognition that nothing, absolutely nothing, is impossible to God.
We named our new dog Christmas because that is what she brought us that year.
Within a few years all those things that I had wondered if I would ever have as part of my life came to me – a teaching job, children, and a home of our own. It is my belief that our Christmas Dog prepared my heart to be ready for all of those things to enter my life.
(The story of our Christmas dog was first published in the Christian Science Sentinel [“Christmas Is Alive and Well“] in December 1999, and retold in Blessings: Adventures of a Madcap Christian Scientist in 2005. It was later included in The Madcap Christian Scientist’s Christmas Book in 2014. It was also included on the Christian Science Sentinel radio program in December 2000.)
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 