James is in his 30s, I think. He has the clearest, warmest brown eyes and he’s thoughtful and likes music.

At the center today, one of our friends, whose physical malady distorts her gait, accidentally spilled a plastic bucket full of little mayonnaise and mustard and ketchup packages.

They were all over the floor, vibrantly colorful, like an Armenian mosaic. I offered to pick up the packets, but James stepped up and did it, before helping me with the tray of fresh lettuce and tomato and red onion.

The other day, when another of our older friends at the center struggled to put one arm in his coat, this gentle lady, with the unsteady gait, helped the man with his coat, near the front of the room.

He had gotten one arm in one sleeve, while sitting in his wheelchair, but he couldn’t get the coat all the way on. The lady stepped up and helped him.

Sometimes we complain at the center, but other times, good things happen and we usually end up in peace. Sometimes we just eat and don’t say much and other times we’re more talkative and festive. We’re planning for Thanksgiving.

We notice when something’s wrong, and when something’s right, we try to call attention to it.

The lady with the beautiful wavy hair and warm winter hats and festive earrings, she seems so quiet lately.

People go missing sometimes. Last spring, one of our friends, who always watered the plants, went missing for months. The plants almost died, but the steady and unsteady lady, who loves milk and struggles to walk, she watered the plants, while Mr. Crawford was gone.

Yesterday, I looked over and the Christmas cactus plant is in full bloom. The flowers are deep bright pink and white.

Mr. Crawford said there are blooms upon blooms. It’s true. That Christmas cactus has one bloom then another and another, on one green stem after another, like they are all climbing over each other, trying to reach the light—or be the light, in perfect symmetry.

It’s hard to wait for symmetry. It’s like giving up believing, not in Jesus, but in hopes and dreams and peace. It hurts a lot when Jesus brings a sword, the one He said wouldn’t bring peace.

So, it’s almost 5 o’clock and division hurts. Now I’m reading about petitions from several states, to secede from the Union, to not be part of the United States anymore. Just in time for Daniel Day-Lewis to portray President Abraham Lincoln on-screen. The world has gone crazy.

Last I looked, that Christmas cactus was still blooming. There’s a bright spot somewhere.

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A collection of lit candles on ornate candlesticks (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Yesterday, I saw orchids in the floral section of a Bi-Lo grocery store.

The tags on those elegant flowers said “Just Add Ice Orchids.” At the Just Add Ice Orchids website, there are wonderful things to learn about orchids, like how watering orchids with ice cubes can prevent over-watering. The ice cubes watering method works with other flowers as well.

Orchids are such exotic flowers, originally from the Far East tropical climates.

In other places, where it gets cold, orchids and other tropical plants grow in greenhouses, glass-like, where there’s always balmy warmth and personal care and precise beauty, grown with carefully-controlled lighting. It sounds so elegant, taking care like that.

All an orchid has to do is say hello to be glorious.

Beautiful elegance like that has its place, but there’s shared simplicity as well.

Last night, at Catholic class, they gave us little white pumpkin-shaped candles, wrapped in clear cellophane, like crinkled glass, tied at top with a straw-like bow. The straw reminds me of the manger, the stall, where Jesus, the King of Kings, was born.

It’s almost time to celebrate the birth of Jesus, this Christmas. It’s so joyful, thinking about Jesus and Christmas and how He was born and died and Rose Again, to free the whole world from sin and death and eventually from all sorrow, for anyone who believes in and trusts Him, Jesus gives abundant life, everlasting (but not always easy) life.

Written in earth brown script on the candle was the word “Blessed.” That’s how it felt this morning, looking at that simple little candle with its message of love, from God‘s heart, to someone else’s heart, to all our hearts.

Related articles

• The Orchid of Forgiveness. (manifestationyoga.com)
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