Sharing Stories.

As I read Tracy's Blog on Destroyers and Builders I was reminded of a story I enjoyed as a child. I didnt understand the philosophy behind it then. I do now. Here I am sharing it with you.

Among the numerous Religious Texts of Hinduism, is the Purana. Purana is a Sanskrit word that literally means "Of Times Before" or "Of Ancient Times".  According to the Sanskrit Lexicographer, Amarasinha, a Purana covers one or all of these five characteristic topics-
1.Creation of the Universe
2. Destruction or restoration of the Universe
3. Geneology of Gods and Patriarchs
4. Reign of Manu's(The head of a particular Epoch within the Hindu Time cycle)
5. History of the Solar and Lunar Dynasty of Kings.

All of the above topics are presented as Instruction from Guru/Sage to Student. In earlier times, villages had what was called Katha sessions during the day or the evenings where the Priest/Brahmin would read from the purana or tell the stories to the gathered people.

There are 18 Main Puranas of which Bhagavata Purana is one of them. This is also called the Shrimad Bhagavatam and focuses primarily on the Incarnations of Vishnu, the Lord of Preservation. It has 12 Chapters. The story below is part of the 3rd Chapter.

Brahma, the Creator has four Sons born of the mind, hence known as Manasa Putra named Sanaka, Sananda, Sanatana and Sant Kumara. They were always known together as the Kumara Rishi. One day they came to visit the Vaikunta-the abode of Vishnu. Vaikunta is described as an Ocean of Milk where Adhi-Sesha, the cosmic 5 headed snake, lays coiled. Its coiled body is where Vishnu rests, meditates and meets other gods and beings. There are 9 doorways that lead up to Vaikunta, the last doorway has two gatekeepers named Jaya and Vijaya.  When the Kumaras arrived at the Gate, they were refused entry as Vishnu was Meditating and did not wish to be disturbed. Usually this wasnt a big deal cause the guest would be waited on with great hospitality while they wait for the Host.  But in this particular instance the Kumaras felt insulted and in the course of their argument with the Gatekeepers, they curse the Gatekeepers into  living on earth so that they will never see Vishnu, the Lord they are devoted to. The Gatekeepers fall to their knees begging the Kumaras to modify the curse so that there is a way to return to Vaikunta. The Kumaras now regretting their haste, say that only Lord Vishnu could modify it. The nature of a Sage's Curse is such that once the words are out, it will happen, such was the power of their word.  Hearing the commotion outside the door, Vishnu awakens from his meditation and comes out. Listens to what happened and gives the gatekeepers a choice - a hundred births as Devotees of Vishnu or 3 births as Enemies of Vishnu, dying by his hand. They choose the later and were born as the Asuras(Demons) Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashyapu in the Satya yuga(part of the Hindu time cycle) and are killed by Vishnu, incarnated as Varaha and Narasimha, as Ravana and Kumbhakarna in the Treta yuga and Killed by Rama (Ramayana) in the War and as Shishupala and Dantavakra in the Dwapara Yuga and Killed by Krishna. In the time of their incarnation as demons they bring what we perceive as death and destruction, but they pave the way for changes that are part of our existence.

The essence of this story is that Even those who are seemingly Evil to our perception have a purpose to serve in the Drama of our life on Earth.  Everything has a reason for being there, for being percieved. All are part of our duality or multiplicity in the Whole.

Hell, Heaven, Samurai and Monk

I was reminded of this story I heard a while ago, as I read Teresa’s blog on wordpress, The way I see it .  I am recollecting from memory, so do forgive me for I cant remember the Names of the characters in the story.

Many seasons ago, in Japan,  a Samurai visits a Buddhist Monastery, where he meets with a  Monk and  asks a question that has bothered him for quite some time -” Is there really a heaven and a hell?”

Instead of answering the question, the Monk asks – “Who are you?”

The Samurai replied : “I am a Samurai”

“You, a Samurai!” exclaimed the monk. “What kind of ruler would have you as his guard? Your face looks like that of a beggar !”

The Samurai felt very insulted and feels angry. He puts his hand on his sword as he moves towards the Monk in a gesture of intimidation.

The Monk mocks the Samurai : “Ha! you think just because you have a sword, its easy to cut my head?”

The Samurai then unsheaths his Katana and swings it readying to chop the monk’s head.

The Monk calmly remarks – “Here open the gates of hell!”

Hearing the Monk’s words the Samurai, becomes aware of the Samurai ethic and discipline, so quietly sheaths his sword and bows to the Monk.

The Monk Smiles as he says – “Here open the gates of Heaven.”

Every religion talks of  the Right way to be. They also talk of How not to be.  ” Triple is the gate of hell, destructive of the self – Lust, anger and greed; therefore one should forsake these three. ”  says Bhagawad Gita 16.21, one of the many sacred texts of the Hindus.  Hell in Hinduism is not a place to get to after you die, but our state of being. In Hindu thought, when we become slaves to Wrath, Lust and Greed, we bring about our degradation, as we say and do things we would otherwise not do. It alters our perception and our actions.   Its like a drug, which makes complete scientific sense too, given the adrenalin pumping into our veins when we feel the emotions of Wrath, Lust and Greed.

Have a wonderful rest of the week. Happy Easter to all who are Celebrating!

Peace
Rashmi

Hidden Truth

There are times when an event occurs and our brains suddenly remembers something that we didn’t know we remember.  Here is a story that I had heard from an elder. This was remembered as I read Teresa Silverthorn’s Blog – One Is Missing.  Thank you, Teresa for reminding me.  I am recollecting this from memory, so please bear with me as I narrate it.

A long time ago, when the earth was new and all of Nature lived in truth, Human beings were able to communicate with each other with their minds. They understood the language of every other creature that moved and the ones that never moved.  They could tell where to find food by smelling the air, they knew what the weather would be like by looking at the heavens.  They could go where they pleased in a blink of an eye. They didnt need a fire to keep warm.   But as time went by, they began to feel like they were the MOST special ones because they knew this.  They began to compete and compare their powers. Gradually they built pride. Arrogance followed Pride and with Arrogance, came in Obstinacy and conflict. With arrogance fully bloomed, they began to abuse the power they had to disenfranchise the other beings and each other.

Brahma the creator(according to the Hindu Trinity)decided it was time to hide this knowledge cause it was causing more harm than harmony.So, he ordered the messenger of Gods, Narada, to find a place where the Humans will never find it.  Narada, did his feasibility study and came back with this answer "Hide it in the human's hearts". Brahma looks at Narada, like as if he was insane... But Narada insists on it saying thats the safest place 'cause if the Humans did look in their hearts, they wouldnt abuse power to their own detriment.  Brahma agrees to do so and hides all the powerful knowledge deep in the human heart.  As the memory of that knowledge faded, humans began to use words to communicate, found it difficult to understand what the other creatures and the earth said. They never looked inside of themselves. As of today it still hasnt been accessed. It lies safe in our chest.

The US Experience - III

I never dreamed of coming to the US.  For a simple, in the middle, middle class, Indian girl like me, US was that unattainable, so dont even think of it lest you walk the path of disappointment, place.  So apart from what I read about the US in the school's geography curriculum, the newspaper and watching movies that apparently came from Hollywood, I had no clue what US was like.  My not so talkative, husband didnt say much either cause for him everything is doable, manageable, learn as you go experience.  There were some really amusing events within the first year of my life in the US.

This was 1996,  washing machines had just made in-roads in India but not the dryers, so we hang clothes out to dry in the sun.  I knew vacuum cleaners, solar water heaters, solar cookers and bio-gas stoves as new technology but I didnt know vending machines, ATM's, dishwashers, garbage chutes, sinks with disposers, dryers, central heating systems, electronic security for entry into apartments, smoke alarms, hand dryers in Restrooms etc.  I also didnt know a lot of what is considered general etiquette.  Here are some of my was embarrassing but now hilarious moments.

We were living in Philadelphia at the time. Being new at the whole thing of maintaining a house, we needed to get so many essentials... My husband lived out of a suitcase before he married me.  He complains once in a while that if it wasnt for me, he'd be such a wealthy person.  So we went shopping, which was a major exercise for me for I hadnt seen such humongous places for shopping until I came here.  I would very easily get lost inside these shops. It took me a lot of visits to be able to orient myself in the Large space.  I am not someone who enjoys shopping so I use the easy way out, I look for the attendant and ask where I could find what ever it is that I couldnt find.  So I walk up to this young, handsome man in uniform with a name tag and asked where I could find a Torch.  He lead me to the farthest corner of the shop and showed me the Tiki torches, the kind that you stick into the ground outdoors. So I tell him that, that wasnt what I wanted but the small hand held battery operated one.. and he had this look of pure amusement and he says "ah! you mean the Flashlight".  I could feel my ears go up in smoke as I tried to hide my embarrassment and said "Yes, the flashlight, I'm sorry I used the wrong word".  Of course, he smiled and said "No Problem".

We went to my first fast food restaurant in the US, the McDonald's.  When it was my turn, I gave my order and the lady at the cash-counter asks "Do you want To go?" and I stood there looking blank, like she was speaking Latin... My brain was trying hard to reason - "why does she want to know if I want to use the toilet before she can give me what I want to eat".  My husband who was at the table realized something was amiss, he came to my rescue and said - "For here".  In all my life until that moment "to go" meant I needed to use the Restroom(washroom/toilet).  

When we used to go out for a walk, people, complete strangers would say "hi, how are you?" and I would stop to answer and ask them too but I was too slow, they would be a few strides away.  And usually every person I came across was TALL so one stride of theirs equals at least two of mine. It baffled me, why ask if you didnt want to know.  Of course, husband explained later that it was their way of being courteous...which to me was totally contradictory, if you are courteous, wouldnt you wait for answer when you ask a question?

The other thing that I had to learn was to hold the door in case there was another person behind me... unless you are hired as the doorman, you dont hold doors for people you dont know, in India.  So I was given the "Oh! How rude" look by quite a few people while I was learning this new habit.  The other being not addressing people by Name.  In India, at the time I was growing up, relationships were very Hierarchical. We usually use first names for peers/friends/people we know well, Mr./Miss/Mrs full-name for those who are acquaintances, "sir/madam" for anyone who is our "Boss" at work, teachers or in what we perceive as an Authoritative position and "Aunty/ Uncle/older sister/older brother/grandmother/grandfather" when we address anyone who isnt related to us but we perceive as elder than us. I had the toughest time learning to address people by their Names.  I would automatically shift to the generic address. It gets very embarrassing when you hear someone say in a no nonsense tone "I am not your Uncle". 

There have been a lot of corrections to the way I speak and write too.  I thought of continuing education, so I took a few credits at the local college and one of them was an English writing class.  I was very bad at spelling, My cheques were the teacher's checks, my honour/colour/favourite had to be honor/ color/favorite.  When I was asked to read and I read the word "schedule as Shed dule" I was told its Sked dule, Semicircle was Se My circle but Demi Moore was not De MY Moore, Albino was Albyno.  Then I learn that the place that I was calling San Jose(saying the J sound) was San Hosay and that San Juan was San Hu an.  I was completely confused with all that I had learned, it felt like I knew nothing. 

I had this teacher, whose teaching style was very difficult for me to comprehend.  He came to class and expected me and the other students to ask him questions and I was brought up in an environment where students were expected to listen, digest and regurgitate. The idea of asking/teaching the teacher was completely new to me. What were they paying him for if all he had to do was stand in front of the class to be shot with questions? I couldnt understand the reasoning. By the time I got a hang of his class we were done with it. 

I was the only Indian in my class.  You could feel the vibe of curiosity and distance when you walk in. It took a while before anyone warmed up to me, it didnt help that I wasnt the kind who would first speak.  So one fine day, my classmate with a drawl and another who used the words "aint" very often made this comment as we waited for the teacher to make her appearance - "You have a beautiful accent" said the Lady drawl and the Guy Aint says "Yes, I think so too" and I looked squarely at them and said "I think both of you have an accent, I speak proper English".  For a moment there was complete silence and I thought "Oh NO!!  I just got the foot in the mouth disease, I offended them" the Next moment there was laughter,  "You are right, we do have an accent".  Over all, college was a good experience. 

Our first Diwali, we finished our ritual worship and as is custom I put in the camphor for the Aarthi(the waving of lamps before the Deity). Of course there will be smoke but nothing big enough to cause a fire.   And the house that had been silent until then went into the Ringing mode.  I was completely panicked, I didnt know what was ringing, where it was ringing or why it was doing so.  The first thought that crossed my mind was Cops, and immediately disregarded it as they have a different sound.  So there I stood wide mouthed, heart pounding while my Husband immediately jumped to action.  He who never finds most stuff unless I hand it to him, found a towel big enough to fan in front of this small 4 inch diameter same colour as our ceiling, never noticed until then gadget. By then my camphor had died down and I was introduced to the silent, third member of our family, the Smoke Detector.

This blog was the result of reading this link that Dr. Giles put on his blog.  It brought back my own memories of  How things were when I first came here.  Hope you enjoyed reading them.

Have a Relaxed and Restful weekend.

Peace,
Rashmi.

Entry for February 25, 2008

Random Thought of the day- The Gift, not accepted, remains with the Giver.

In one of my weekend conversation with the little ones, I said that just because there are unkind kids at school doesnt mean that they have to be unkind to others.  I do subscribe to the view that we dont need to let others mould us into something we dont want to be. Of course, its not an original thought, it did come somewhere from my childhood readings of Buddha.  Specifically it came from a story I heard a long while ago.  It goes something like this- 

During his numerous wanderings, Buddha was once invited by a rich man to have dinner at his home.  So at the appointed time Buddha arrives at the man's house and realizes that the Man had an agenda.   The Man  began to verbally abuse the Buddha for his teachings, the kind of man he was and the kind of followers he had.  Buddha sat quietly until the man was done talking after which he got off his seat and left. The Disciples were very agitated with what they saw. They asked him why the Buddha did not say anything while the man was clearly being rude. The Buddha replied- I did not accept his gift and hence it is with him. 

The idea is that Hatred does not end hatred so do not retaliate in Kind.  Of course this applies only for what we view as negative behaviour. We would want to repay Kindness with kindness and Love with Love. 

But as I told my kids to not be unkind even though the other is unkind, I was contradicting my own words in my mind.   I have seen that not retaliating is considered as a weakness by most. I have seen that the Nice kids are the ones who become targets for bullying.  I see the ones who are unruly are the ones who get to get away with what they do. And I wondered if I was doing right by my kids, telling them to be kind inspite of the unkindness.  I wondered if I wasnt handicapping them in some way.  If I wasnt making room for someone to think they can take advantage of them just because they are well-mannered-good kids(at least for the most part).  Does that quote hold in today's world?

I hate the conflict my ideal world and the real world creates.  It annoys me to see that what I see as right and want to teach  kids to be like would become a hurdle for them to cross. 

I struggle everyday with what I should do and say and how I should become so that my kids would have the ethics but also the smarts to  live in a not so NICE world.   How do we do whats right and make sure our kids arent scarred in some way?  How do we  make them People with a conscience in a everyday world without a conscience?

Walking  in motherhood limbo
Rashmi.

Thoughts on Friday

Like most kids of my time, I loved listening to stories, especially when my neighbour Mrs. Vasudevan, my grandparents or parents narrated it. This is one of the many stories I remember from my childhood. I heard this from my grandparents. I do think this is a folk tale. Please do bear with things that don't make sense in the story for I am recollecting from memory.

There was a huge forest of many Old and Strong trees. The trees were the keepers of the history. They knew what happened with the earth because they were connected to her. They also knew what was happening in the surrounding kingdoms, from the conversations that the men and women who came to pick their old dry branches, had. The trees knew their place well; they knew that their health directly reflected the health of the People in that part of the world. They knew that as long as the forest were teeming with trees, shrubs, flowering plants, ferns, animals and birds, all was well with the earth and within the kingdoms too. They imparted this knowledge through their gentle breeze filling life into everything around them, the dreams that people had while sleeping in their glorious shade, the tastes that their fruits had and their dead branches which were picked by the humans to keep warmth and cook their food.

One day, the older trees from the east side of the forest sent word to those in the west side asking them to prepare themeselves to die. The trees on the west side asked why? The east side trees said that the people in the kingdom on their edge have become very advanced but in the process have lost the capacity to listen to the trees. They don't pick the dead branches for their today; they have invented an axe to cut down the trees for their tomorrow. The old trees were to die first for they gave the biggest logs, the best wood for building homes and ships that will navigate the seas to other distant lands. The east side trees wonder why the west side trees, some of who were so much older and stronger than the east side ones are so fearful of an axe. Cant they stand strong they wonder. The west side trees answer- "If it was just an axe we could stand strong and win, but you see, one of our younger trees has joined the axe... being part of our family, it knows the weakest point on our trunks."

This story, at that time was meant to teach concepts of family loyalty, about not betraying trust, making sacrifices and choices where ALL win, while telling us to look after the earth and her trees- the keepers of history. It made sense to me when I was young, coming from a hierarchical, almost homogenous society where the concepts of ethics and morals were almost the same with the people who lived around me and with me. There was also a basic order when it came to honesty, obedience, use of power/authority with benevolence. But now I wonder how to apply these concepts when the base has crumbled. We are diverse society now with such a wide variety of concepts that make up the ethics and morals, most of which conflict with individuals of the same family. What can we be loyal to when most of the things that happen around us has an underlying dishonesty to it, where tolerance appears only on the extremes, discretion and common sense are becoming rare, virtues such as- patience, delaying gratification for a long term goal, doing our duty rarely figures into our thoughts, keeping our word and using our words in kindness, the balance in grayness, doesn't make a cut. I sometimes wonder, if I am too old fashioned to even think about Virtue. Not that I mind being Old-fashioned, after all even that is Fashion. Off to Ponder-land.

Peace Always

Mithuna.

Heaven and Hell

This was a story I heard from my neighbour Mrs. Vasudevan when I was about 14 years old. I loved listening to her stories. I am recollecting this from memory, so please bear with me if it doesn't sound right.

There was a farmer, who was poor but was very kind, content and cheerful. He was quite old but his eyes still shone of love. He knew how to spread joy around, cause anyone who spoke to him always came away feeling better about themselves and their situation. He knew how to enjoy the everyday things, like the smell of flowers in his garden, the dew shining in the early morning sun on a spiders web, the taste of a ripe juicy mango. He was always working but was never too busy to refuse helping anyone who needed help.

An angel who watched him, decided to reward his goodness. So the angel visits the farmer and grants him ONE wish. One would think he would wish for riches. But the farmer replies "I am happy with the food I have when I am hungry and the Love that surrounds me everyday, but before I die, I would like to see heaven and hell" .

So the angel says "Alright, you hold on to my cloak". The next instant the farmer was at the gateway to hell. He walks in and sees beautiful avenues, green trees and gardens, lovely ponds, awesome weather and a table in a garden laden with the most delicious smelling food he had ever seen. As he neared the table he saw that there were haggard looking people seated at the table. They were starving, sickly looking and angry. "How could they be starved with so much food around ?" he thought. On looking closer, he saw that their hands were locked straight at the elbow so they couldn't bend it to feed themselves. "Oh my! That is truly hell, to have food but not be able to eat it" thought the farmer.

The farmer returns to the angel and holds the cloak. The next instant the farmer was at the gateway of heaven. He walks in and sees the same sights he saw in hell, here too the people had their arms locked straight and wonders why it was heaven if it was the same. Looking closer he realizes that the people seemed well fed and happy. He heads in their direction and sees the people feeding each other! "Ah I see" smiles the farmer with an understanding nod of his head  "THIS, is truly heaven".

When I heard the story, at the time, it was only a story with a moral. I knew that it was a lesson is sharing, doing something for another. Now after "growing up" I realize its more than that- its about how situations don't change but our perspectives of it change. Our strength lies in looking for the Positive in any given situation. I have a feeling, that when I "Grow up" more, I will find something more from this story, that's probably the reason I haven't forgotten it.

This also reminds me of a zen saying thats my favorite

"Before enlightenment, fetch water, chop wood; After enlightenment, fetch water, chop wood."

Hope you enjoyed it.

Peace

Mithuna

Power of Words

"There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His Father gave him a bag of nails  and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence. The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next  few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence. Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper.

The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, "You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one.

You can put a knife in a man and draw it out.   It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry, the wound is still there. "A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one."

A friend of mine sent this to me.  It got me thinking ”how many times do we say hurtful things to others using the excuse- exercising the "Freedom of Speech"?    How many times do we say things that we know will leave a scar using the excuse  "I was being honest"?  I look back in remorse at all the times I have hurt others with my words.  My mother used to say that I have a razor for a tongue.  When I was younger, I could cut a person down with what I said. Today, my easiest excuse would be to say that I was Young and I knew no better. But then that would be dishonest of me, for I knew that it would hurt.  I didn't care enough or I was hurting and the easiest thing to do was to lash out and hurt the others, especially the ones you love the most.

I have always known Words have Power.  Back home,  we worship words; the faculty of speech, voice, for it's a form of God.  We call it Vak.  My parents used to impress on me the value of using speech wisely, to never overdo the talking or use the voice/words to hurt, gossip, or utter untruth.  They said that being able to say what needs saying, when it needs saying, in the right tone of voice was a virtue that each of us should cultivate.  They said- "Words, like our thoughts,  manifest, so be careful how you use them" Of course, I rebelled.  "What is the point of having a voice if we can't voice what we think?" "Where is there freedom, if we have to censor what we say and how we say it?" "If he/she/they get hurt, it's their problem in accepting the truth.  It just shows their irrationality and emotional immaturity, if they are offended by what I say but it's the truth". These were the things I said to my parents when they asked me to temper what I said.

Life has a strange way of teaching you lessons, you need to learn. My lessons in the chapter of "Speech as a Virtue", came when I married.  Getting along with a new set of family and relatives, making new acquaintances and friends was a different ball game, once you are the Lady of the House. Instinctively I knew, I couldn't survive if I continued to have a razor for a tongue. And if I survived, I wouldn't be a happy person.  And happiness was important to me.  I had to let go of my arrogance.  I began to understand the value of "Sweet talk, diplomacy and tact". I think I was the most tactless person on the face of the earth.  I am still learning. Yes, being able to use our words in truth and harmony is a virtue. A virtue that is being forgotten in our present world.

I used to think Honesty, truth, and the ability to say what you think no matter what, was a mark of a good person. I still think it is. But now I add these words "using those qualities judiciously" is a mark of a good person.  Over the years, I have learned to temper my words. I have learned to not say anything if I knew it could hurt or offend.  I have learned to keep my voice to myself. I have learned to hold my peace every now and then.  I try as much as I can, to say what could help or make the other smile or I say nothing at all.  Saying nothing at all is very difficult, especially when you believe you "Know this well".   I don't always succeed; my old persona appears to say "hi" every now and then.  I still get into messy situations because of what I say, but they are becoming fewer.  I hope my parents notice the change, and know that their teaching didnt fall on deaf ears.  Maybe it will make them happy for a while.

LIFE'S MAILBOX (360 repost)

My good friend (you know who you are) from college has a very wise mother. Being girls in a hierarchical society means you really have to be resourceful when it comes to coping skills.  Among our many discussions, we talked of life for a woman in our society, where it is very difficult for a girl to have a voice. We wondered how our mothers, grandmothers and all those countless women before us coped. We were at the tail end of our teens on the threshold of adulthood.  Having had the opportunity to go to college, our ideals for freedom, rights, voice and power was as hot as the blood that flowed beneath our skins.  In spite of all the excitement of life, there was a part, deep within us that was very typical of being Indian.  We understood that we had to make compromises in our lives. No matter how much we earned or how qualified we were to voice our opinions, we might have to stay silent.

One of the things that stood in my mind at the end of the discussion was my friend telling me what her mother told her about life as a woman.  I can't quote the exact thing, but here goes-

"When we are born, we are like a huge block of raw marble that is just quarried.  As we go through our lives, doing the things we need to, like to and have to do.  We get chiseled by the people who come into our lives. Some of those people make us beautiful, some leave unfinished parts, some leave deep grooves that can't be repaired, but everyone shapes us. Every time the block is chiseled it causes deep emotions, some are nice, and some are painful.  As we make adjustments within our lives and begin to accept the different chisel marks (teachings), we become smooth marble. It will be our time to leave when all the work on us is done. We become beautiful statues."

Every time I am faced with a change that I am reluctant to make, I send silent thanks for having a friend like her through whom the message from her mother was passed to me.