Doing My Part

17 Nov

I went back to the “Y” yesterday for the first time since my surgery in late September. I had to reinstate my membership, so was still in the lobby when an Islamic family came in, looking scared to death. I’d never seen them before, so they probably joined while I was AWOL.

They appeared to be a mother, father, and 20-ish daughter.  I went over and gave each of the women a hug, telling them how sorry I was for what had happened, meaning, of course, the Paris attacks. I remembered my manners and didn’t try to hug the father, but bowed slightly, and repeated the only Arabic phrase I know – Saleem Aliakam. I probably butchered both the spelling and the pronunciation, but it means “Peace be with you”, and our former rector always said it to our Moroccan exchange student, when we passed the Peace at church.  (Thank you, Fr. Al and Youssef.) The father bowed back and then took both of my hands in his, and looked as if he was going to cry. Later, the two ladies thanked me, and apologized for “those crazy people”. I replied we all have our share of crazies.

Oliver Cromwell used to ring the alarm bells in English towns, which was a sign for every one to run to the church to see what was going on. He’d lock the people in  the church and then set fire to it. Not much different from firing a gun in a crowded theatre.  And all in the name of religion. I’m not sure God is at all pleased.

Onward and upward.

I didn’t accomplish very much at the “Y”, as so many people wanted to welcome me back and ask how I was doing. You can’t just say “Fine, thank you” and keep going (well, maybe you can, but I can’t!) so I spent a lot of time chatting and singing the praises of my operation. And my surgeon.

Just as well. I was sore at the dickens this morning. This is going to take a while.

We are having a candlelight vigil at church tonight, and of course any Episcopal gathering involves food. My girlfriend sent me the picture on the right, and I found a recipe for a cheese ball and had at it. Several folks in our congregation have celiac disease, so when I stopped to pick up the American cheese, I grabbed a green pepper to use for the stem and leaves instead of what seems to be a pretzel and obviously, cookies. cheeseball

DSCN0031Mine turned out this way.

Take your pick.

While I was working, I took a nibble of cheese. I’d forgotten how horrible American cheese is. Yuck!



One Response to “Doing My Part”

  1. Peg Wilson November 18, 2015 at 12:07 am #

    The cheese ball looks great. Your entry first triggered a memory of Alyssa talking about her grandmother getting in trouble in her water aerobics class for talking too much. But very shortly, I was brought to near tears by your encounter with the family. You see, I had just finished an article about a young Muslim woman who was robbed and attacked as she went to pick up her children from elementary school in Toronto. It makes me sad to see such hatred and fear in the world and with many of my friends. I think I can understand, if only it is only the size of a grain of sand, the anguish our Savior felt on the cross when he took on all of our sins. I pray a lot lately.

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