A friend once complained her teacher was incompetent. The teacher “doesn’t know what he’s talking about and doesn’t make sense,” she said. Consequently, students met after class to discuss the lesson and work out problems.

Actually, the teacher appeared to me quite effective, forcing students to figure things out for themselves. They seemed to be truly learning.

Looking out my back window at a barren tree, I see hanging a solitary ripe persimmon—a sign of coming winter, cold winds and dark skies.

Another year passed, a new one begins. What have I accomplished, what lies ahead, where am I going? Thoughts swirl in my head.

In growing older, a woman once told me her knee became sore and weak. She began to use a cane, moving slowly and more cautiously than before.

While taking walks outside, she began to notice other people with difficulty walking. Her eyes couldn’t help but see people who used canes, crutches and walkers, who walked slowly or with limps. Suddenly the world seemed full of people like herself, whose steps were unsteady. She saw them struggle and felt their pain. She worried for their safety and prayed in her heart they would be all right. These thoughts spontaneously arose from within her.

 

My kids always seem to fight: Arguing over chores, who gets to watch television, and who talks more on the telephone. It’s normal for kids, I think. What really worries me, though, is if they fight as adults.