My mother used to sell Avon.  I know all about Avon calling.  I also know a lot about getting Avon cologne for every occasion a gift might be given.  Those days are long gone, but I was reminded of them during my stay on Ambergris Caye in Belize.  My sister and her husband do not sell Avon, but they are very good marks on the island.  Some tourists seem to have glaring neon signs on their foreheads that read, "Rip me off!  Sell me anything - even cosmetics.  Yes, come rip me off!"  It's a big sign to put on the forehead, but lots of people wear them.

My sister and her husband don't wear that sign.  They just have good hearts and wants to help people in need. And if someone is trying to sell something to make a living, they are going to support them the best they can.  One of the easiest places to be spotted in San Pedro is at a restaurant.  Recently a group of children approached us selling little woven bracelets.  My brother-in-law bought one from each child and then told them to give the bracelets to a friend.  Another young man approached my sister as we ate at a thatched roof restaurant over the Caribbean shore.  Somebody in our group said, "No, thank you."  He immediately replied, "I don't accept no for an answer."

I thought, "That's a good reply!"  But, I still wasn't interested in a necklace.  I was much more interested in his hat.  It had the logo for a hotel on the island that I knew was "adults only".  I asked, "How can you have a hat for a hotel that you aren't allowed to go to?"  The owner was his god-mother.  Our conversation about the hotel was brief because Christian was more interested in a sale.  And, my sister left the restaurant with a lovely green stone necklace to match her outfit.

I cannot say that I have been completely unscathed by these local craftsmen.  Or, maybe, hopefully, I have some of the generosity that my sister possesses.  One time a merchant showed us his goods which included unique seed pods.  He had them as key chains.  I asked if he also had them as necklaces.  He didn't.  But, he did real soon.  A few days later he showed up at my sister's home with the necklace I asked about.  I really didn't want it.  I just wanted to see it.  But, alas, it makes a lovely souvenir from Belize in my home and I photographed it for one of my Belizean recipes. 

So, you may have already noticed.  You really aren't safe in your home from door-to-door salesmen in tropical Belize, especially if you are an easy mark.  I mean, if you have a good heart.  The man who delivers water to my sister's home is also very happy to sell trees, plant them, work on small home repairs, paint your walls, or clean the sewage system.  Well, maybe not so thrilled about the sewage, but he knows a guy.  I'm not kidding.  And, a variety of other people showed up during my stay to sell more flowering plants, trees and souvenirs.  Before everything can be planted, one of the neighboring gardeners promised to provide the labor to install a small (but perhaps ever growing larger) flower bed for my sister.

One day, I happened to be the only one home when Lorenz knocked on the door.  He and his buddies just pulled their boat into my sister's pier and had fresh crabs and red snappers to sell.  You can't get it any more fresh than this.  My sister, "Miss Brenda", is one of their favorite clients.  Even though her name isn't really Brenda, she still takes good care of them and buys fresh from the sea as often as she can.  Lorenz told me that my sister is very kind.  He made no mention of a sign on her forehead.

So, in her absence, I went out to the pier to see what there was to see.  They had a large catch of stone crabs.  I supplied them a knife and they carved everything up right there on the spot.  I took photos while they answered questions.  Each of them were able to hold their breath underwater for about a minute.  They usually have to dive about eight to ten feet to catch the crabs (or lobster when in season).  It appears that their clients buy the crab claws but the fishermen take the body of the crabs home.  One of the men described the soup his wife prepared with crab meat and all kind of vegetables.  It sounded delicious.  I asked if he could bring me a bowl of the soup.  Of course, I was serious.  I doubt if he realized that.  If he does come through for me, I'll get another recipe.  I have learned, it never hurts to ask. 

When the fishermen left, I placed my purchase of stone crab claws in the freezer.  My sister returned home about fifteen minutes later.  The fishermen saw "Miss Brenda" on her journey and called out to her.  So, she knew the crab meat hadn't been in the freezer long.  She knew, but I certainly didn't, that you don't just put fresh crab meat in the freezer.  You must boil it first or the meat will be much more difficult to remove from the shell.  Who knew?  Certainly not me.

The one person I most want to stop by the house hasn't done it yet.  He still may, because he does if every now and awhile.  Fred Trejo is a local artist based in San Pedro.  His artwork is mostly tropical beaches, underwater depictions and local street scenes.  He does a good job with underwater sea turtles.  And, since this is a place that caters to fishermen, he has several paintings that show the sportsmen casting from their boats as well as a close-ups of the fish underwater.  However, fishing has no appeal to me.  I like his paintings that depict life in San Pedro the best.  They give a flavor of local architecture and life.  You can either paint architecture correctly or your can't.  If you can't handle perspective well, it will never look correct.  Fred does it very right.

I didn't want to leave a meeting to chance.  When I learned that the best way to contact Fred was by his Facebook account, I looked him up and suggested a meet.  Now, I wait and see what happens.  I've waited over a week without any luck, but I've done all I can.  If you want to see Fred's art, you can also look up his Facebook account.

Want a tropical souvenir to remind you of Caribbean sunshine in the dead of winter?  There is no limit to what you can find in Belize.  Sunshine, warm smiles, friendly people, beautiful sunsets and so much more!  But, you can't find one of those neon signs for your forehead that scream, "I'm a tourist.  Rip me off!"  You have to bring your own. 

I try to walk for an hour every day.  It doesn’t always happen – especially when it is cold or when Covid messes up my life.  But, when in sunny Belize, I try to walk every morning. 

It’s a unique experience walking along rural Ambergris Caye.  There are many Belizean gardeners and property managers outside while I stroll the island.  And, they are friendly.  Back home in Ohio, people nod and say hello.  It’s different in Belize.  People stop me and want to talk.  They want to show me the flower gardens they tend.  They want me to feel welcome.

None of them could be any friendlier than Luis.  When he stopped me, I asked one of my favorite questions.  What should I eat in Belize?  His answer was relleno.  (The two l’s have a “y” sound.)  I never heard of that dish.  So, I had to ask, “Do you prepare it with iguana?”  The answer might surprise you.  “Guatemalans eat iguana.  We don’t eat that in Belize.”

My sister knew all about relleno.  Her Belizean friends had prepared it before.  She knew all about how time consuming it was to make.  I was clueless.  So, when Luis suggested we come to his home for relleno – without first consulting with his wife – I wasn’t sure what I was going to get.

Well, let me tell you, it is delicious!

Luis’ wife Oly prepared the dish.  And, it was as delicious as she was delightful.  Relleno is eaten only on special occasions because of the time involved.  My birthday?  December.  Luis and Oly’s anniversary?  Next month.  My sister’s birthday?  Next week.  So, we decided to celebrate her day.

The key ingredient for relleno is a paste called “black ricado”.  (It’s also available in red, in case you are interested, and I think the red is part fire and part hot pepper.)  The making of the paste is what requires massive amounts of time.  You start with tortillas.  Cook them until you blacken them.  Then, you must wash the tortillas until you clean away all that black.  You have to wash them two or three times.  Next, you grind up the tortillas and add all kinds of spices including cumin, pepper, allspice, garlic and onion.  After hearing about all that work, I had to ask.  If you are a die-hard chef, I’m guessing you have to prepare your ricado this way.  But, if you are like me and really don’t cook that much, can you buy it already prepared?  They answer was “yes”.  So, you know what would happen in my kitchen.  Of course, everyone knows it tastes better when everything is fresh.  That just doesn’t matter to me enough to go through all that work.

Ingredients:
          .....1 lb. ground beef or chicken            ................5 boiled chicken eggs
          .....1 tsp salt                                           ...............3 raw eggs
               ¼ cup of black ricado                       ...............1 whole chicken           
             ..2 or 3 garlic cloves, minced             ...............1 whole haberno pepper
               2 onions, minced   

Brown the ground beef and add salt, the black ricado, garlic and onions.  After it is cooked, stir in the boiled eggs whites and mix thoroughly.  Turn off the heat.

Separate the meat in the middle and drop the three eggs in the center.  Stir them up into the meat mix. 

Stuff your chicken with the meat mix and the whole egg yolks in the same way you stuff a Thanksgiving turkey.  Then, sew up the chicken so all those goodies stay inside the bird.

If you made your own black ricado, you should have left-over juices.  If like me, you would never make black ricado when you can buy it already prepared, dilute a tablespoon or two of black ricado in pot big enough to boil your stuffed chicken.  Add fried garlic and onions to the broth along with one whole habanero pepper.  Just one pepper?  That’s right.  Luis and Oly only like a little fire.  And, if you want to add extra veggies like potatoes, tomatoes, sweet peppers and carrots, feel free to slice away.

Boil for 30 to 45 minutes.  Flip the bird after twenty minutes of boiling.  Serve the chicken and what was cooked inside the bird with the broth as a soup along with a plate of rice.  Now, if you don’t know how you are supposed to eat it, do as I did, and asked Luis.  Take a spoonful of rice and dip it in the soup to soak up some flavor.  Then, enjoy.

You may think that one cooking lesson with Oly, especially preparing relleno, was way more than any gringo should expect.  You'd be correct.  But, I was invited back for another lesson just a few days later.  This time, I learned how to make tortillas.  It's much more simple and way more of a staple in the Belizean diet.  It was also delightful to witness (and participate in).

Ingredients:
            ...3 cups flour                             .....................2 ½ Tbs baking powder
             ..½ cup lard                               .....................½ Tbs salt

Combine the ingredients and add water until the flour reaches the right consistency to knead. What is that consistency?  How do you know when you’ve reached it?  I have no idea.  It’s a feel.  And, when you’ve done this enough, you know the right feel for the dough.  Next, you knead the dough until it reaches the proper texture.  Again, it’s a feel.  How long do you knead it?  I’d say it was at least ten minutes.  I never felt the necessary feel.  But, at some point, Oly was satisfied

Oly pinched off dough in tiny balls between her thumb and finger.  Then, she rolled them a little more.  All the flour made about 15 balls of dough when she was done working.  Oil up your hands to coat each ball and place them in a covered bowl to rest a while. 

Heat up the tortilla plate for a good long time.  Oly had a gas oven.  They flame licked at that metal plate a good ten minutes before she was ready.  Then, she flattened the dough balls on an oiled counter top.  With two hands she flattened the balls into perfect circles.  Mine were not nearly as perfect.

Lift up the dough tortilla and place on the hot plate until one side is golden.  Then, without the use of a spatula, flip that tortilla over until the other side is the same lovely shade of gold.  Multi-task as you wait.  Continue flattening dough balls until all fifteen tortillas are ready for your meal.  When we were done, Oly served me up my tortillas with refried beans along with eggs and sausage. 

Delicioso!

Covid 19 messed up my winter schedule.  I had plans to visit my sister on her beachfront Caribbean home in Belize early into the chill of winter.  But, we all know about best-laid plans.  When Robert Byrnes coined the poem in 1786, he said, “the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”  My experience had nothing to do with mice, Scotland, or poetry.  It had a lot to do with a nastly little virus.

I got sick on Christmas Eve.  I didn’t have horrible symptoms.  I was just exhausted. Eleven days into it, I finally went to Urgent Care and the Emergency Room.  That’s when I tested positive for Covid and I spent four weeks in bed.  The worst news was that I most likely would test positive on Covid tests for quite a while, so Belize was out of the picture for an indeterminate time.

My doctor said it usually takes around 90 days to pass a Covid test after being struck by that nasty little virus.  I was close to that limit, sort of, but the next hurdle was getting a test within the 72-hour window required by Belize.  Urgent Care would not give a test for travel.  My pharmacy couldn’t guarantee results that fast.  My doctor recommended another site.  It was impossible to call them so I had to go there and meet them face-to-face.

It was kind of like driving up to a toll booth.  I asked the woman there about the speed of results, asking, begging, if it was possible to get a Monday test, with Tuesday results, for a Wednesday flight.  She was positive, hopeful, but made no promises.  I said I wanted to be the first patient of the day.  What time did they open?  8:00

I showed up at the testing site at 7:30, the first client as promised.  I fully expected to wait there a half hour and read.  But, a nice young woman opened the door to speak to me.  She asked for my identification.  I said, “Before you see my I.D., I think you need to see these donuts.” 

I think the women liked that.

I was instructed to pull up to the next door.  Again, I expected to wait a half hour, but another woman came out to swab my throat.  I fully recommend throat cultures over nasal intrusions.  No pain.  No tears.  No trauma.  I was tested and home before that testing site even officially opened.  And, in less than 24 hours, I had the needed test results and I was free to go to Belize.

This little corner of Caribbean paradise had Covid restrictions greater than anything I’d seen in Ohio.  Before entering any store or office, everyone was expected to stop at the hand sanitation center for cleaning up.  The 10:00 P.M. curfew is still in effect, but that doesn't present any kind of difficulty in my life in San Pedro.  Fortunately, armed police boats no longer circled the island to prevent passage back and forth from Mexico.    Still, everyone was required to wear a mask at all times outside of the house.  There was an exception for exercise, but most other times, my mask was up and sweat poured down the sides of my face.   Masks were seriously never meant for tropical weather.

Enough with talk on nasty little viruses!  My walk on the wild side also included leaping lizards.   My sister and I decided it was well past time for us to explore the Eco Iguana Corner Foundation.  This lizard sanctuary is in downtown San Pedro.  Who knew?  I’ve been to San Pedro more times than I can count, and this was the first time I ever heard of it.  You would never stumble upon it by accident.  It’s located in a back corner of town on the lagoon side of the island.  Yes, it’s an easy walk from the city center, but no tourist walking the three main streets of San Pedro would ever find the place by accident.  You must know where it is and look for it.  Success is not guaranteed.

The owner, Calvin, has cared for the iguana at this reserve for over a decade.  He’s really a friendly soul.  He said he wanted to teach his children all about kindness and his method was through lizards.  Calvin isn’t just kind to his children and reptiles. Shockingly, unBELIZEably, it is free to visit the sanctuary.
 
I came with such low expectations.  I’ve visited third-world zoos in the past.  I expected reptiles in cages.   The sanctuary boasts over 250 iguanas.  Yes, they’d be easy to photograph and I’d get closer than I usually can get to the critters in the wild.  However, they would still be in cages. 

But, they weren’t.

I spied my first iguana on the road, by a mangrove lagoon area, before I saw the entrance to the sanctuary.  And then, I saw so many more.  Upon entering the Eco Iguana Corner Foundation, free-range (or free-swamp) iguana wandered on the pathways, through the mangrove roots, across the access bridge and up into the branches.  They came in all sizes!  There were some of the biggest iguanas I’d ever seen in all my travels.  And, delightfully, they were accustomed to visiting humans and had no fear.  Yes, some people might have a little fear of leaping lizards over a yard long, but these critters knew how to thank the hands that fed them.  Bring them fresh fruit – and their favorite is bananas – and they would eat right out of your hands.  They didn’t mind posing for photos at all.  To get the full iguana experience, check out this video of leaping lizards.

Iguana are now a protected species in Belize.  They didn’t used to be and they didn’t earn the nickname “bamboo chicken” for nothing.  I learned on previous trips to the island that most people didn’t eat black iguana.  They preferred the green ones.  Personally, I prefer meat that goes “cluck” or “moo”.  But, I asked around how to prepare an iguana if you were going to cook one.  Nobody could tell me.  They said I’d have to ask someone from Guatemala.Alas, I met no Guatemalans.

I did, however, meet a lot of Belizeans and dogs when I walked every morning.  The Belizeans were usually gardeners and property managers of the rental homes I passed along the way.  Lulu, Cinnamon, Brownie and a few other dogs that frequently joined in on the morning walks belonged to those properties. Most houses were on the left side of my walk, along the Caribbean Sea.  The right side of the street (actually a dirt path) offered swamp land, occasional iguanas, tropical birds, mangroves and a lot of muck and mire.

On one particular morning, Lulu ran close to our side.  And, it was a little on the wild side.  At one point the dog jumped into the water along the side of the road.  I know that sometimes, somehow, construction workers and men who installed electricity lines ventured into the muck where I would never go.  I mean, do I have to go into detail what can hide in swampy muck and mire?  Have you seen “The Creature from the Black Lagoon”?   

But, the dog jumped in without a care in the world.  And, Lulu was just fine.

However, her activity got me looking on the other side of the swamp/stream/murky water. And, that was when I spotted the crocodile.  It's the closest I've ever seen one in the wild.  It was about six or eight feet long and 15 steps away.  Fifteen steps wasn't a big enough distance to feel safe if there wasn't a body of water separating me from those jaws.  But, there was that water and I got a great picture during this walk on the wild side.

You may or may not have seen the television series A Million Little Things.  Personally, I think the writers came up with an especially clever title.  The show centers around a close-knit group of friends who support each other in times of crisis.  And, this group of friends has a lot of problems; perhaps a million little things go wrong in every episode.  They have faced suicide, betrayal, sickness, problems with children, problems about not having children, depression, guilt, loneliness, separation, financial obligations, new jobs, job loss, moving, addiction, physical rehabilitation, haunting past, failure, grief, break-ups and perhaps a million or so other issues.  But, it really does not do anyone any good to focus on everything that goes wrong around you, especially if there are this many little things (or huge disasters) taking place.  Yep, it's a good time to follow the example set by Bing Crosby and "Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive".  That said, in the case of A Million Little Things, these friends have a lot of good things going for them as well.  They are very loyal.  All of them appear to have remarkably flexible work schedules that allow each friend in the group to always be there for the other, whether day or night.   And, they really care about each other and consider them their real family.  The list of good things happening in their lives may not total a million, but it's a good list.  It certainly is the kind of list most people would like to have.

So, this got me thinking.  What are some of the little things going on in my life that make me thankful?  There are some things - not nearly a million of them - that surprise me from time to time and make my day.  If you've read my book Triple Gratitude with Assorted Monsters, you know that every day I try to look for the three best things that happened to me in the past twenty-four hours. I thought I might just share a few of them with you.  Relax, it's nothing close to a million.

Covid Recovery - It was a very long four weeks that I spent in bed with that nasty little virus.  I know that I was very blessed.  My symptoms were not so critical.  Many people have suffered so much more than I did.  I was simply achy and exhausted.  Now, if I were the type of person glued to my telephone like most people on the planet, I would have suffered so much more.  I didn't have the energy to bother with my telephone.  I didn't have the energy to tell anyone I was sick.  I had no energy.  I didn't touch my phone.

Well, now I'm doing much better.  I still need an occasional nap if I overdo things, but I'm fine.  So, I wrote my blog to tell friends about my experience.  The responses I've gotten from all over the world have been interesting.  Friends in Africa wrote, "You should have told us!  I'm so glad you are better, but you really should have told us!"  I explained, I really didn't have the energy to tell you or anyone else what was going on.  I let people know as soon as I was able to do so. 

I might be forgiven.

Then, I heard from friends in Brasil.  They were also upset in learning things so late.  But, this conversation was over a Zoom meeting and I could actually see what they wanted to do to me.  My mural host wanted to grab me by the ear and give me a good shaking.  He wanted the message to be received loud and clear that I was to communicate better if problems ever arise in the future.

And, I'm not sure if I will ever be fully forgiven.

Phillip Martin Clip Art - My clip art been out there on the Internet since the 1990s.  It certainly makes me the most non-famous world-famous artist on the planet.  I truly never know where it will pop up next.  One of my friend spotted my art - illegally - on T-shirts in a Manila mall.  The artist who helped me mural in Moldova said his childhood English text books used my art.  Others have recognized my cartoons at an orphanage in Cambodia.  Friends traveling in Israel saw my artwork at a kibbutz that they visited.  Even my sister and I discovered my art at a Maya museum in Belize.  Yep, as I said, it's all over the world.

Most recently, one of my former students contacted me.  I've not seen Ryan since he was ten years old.  He now has a daughter two years older than that.  Ryan said that he was with his daughter at her school when he saw a bulletin board that had a large drawing of a Greek woman.  If you ever were one of my students, you would have learned my step-by-step cartooning method.  They are simple cartoons, but they are still so unique that they are recognizable anywhere.  Ryan told his daughter, "I know who drew that.  It was my fourth grade teacher."

Of course, his daughter didn't believe him. 

Of course, Ryan wasn't going to leave his daughter with any doubt.  He contacted me right away to tell me about the display.  Yep, I confirmed that it was my drawing.  And, I think his daughter is a believer now.

The Mural Man - Not a lot of community murals get painted when communities are not allowed to gather.  I didn't paint one mural in 2020.  I'm hoping that life might, hopefully, turn around a little in the second half of this year.  I am so ready to pick up my brushes and paint more murals in any corner of the planet.  And, there are a few possibilities brewing.  Possibilities.

-- Brasil   One of my best options in the works is back in Brasil with the ear-puller.  I painted one of my murals at APAI, a center for people with special needs.  That's where I met Claudinei and had one of my most touching moments as a muralist.  My host who originally invited me to Brasil, is hard at work trying to bring me back.  And, he has a big dream.  He wants to again work with APAI and have me paint murals around the country.  He asked if I would be willing to come to Brasil for an extended stay of perhaps three months.  Nobody who asks me a question like that expects to hear "No!" for an answer.  I said I was ready to get on the plane tomorrow.  Well, before that actually happens, funding has to be located and a virus needs to be eliminated (or seriously slowed down).

-- Liberia   Now before this nasty virus came our way, I was in serious talks with three embassies in West Africa about a muraling tour of Liberia, Togo and Benin.  Discussions were only in the beginning stages.  Previously in Liberia, in 2016, I painted community murals at the American Corner Libraries in Zorzor and Zwedru.  The Public Affairs Officer wanted to bring me back to paint at the other two American Corner Libraries in Buchanan and Kakata, as well as maybe a couple more locations around the country.  You know I'm willing.

Alas!  The guy I was in communication with is no longer in Liberia.  He's preparing to go on to Norway where he'd like some murals.  And, oh, so very fortunately, his replacement in Liberia loves what I do and is interested in bringing me back home.  But, just like in Brasil, nothing is going to happen in any of these countries until this nasty little virus situation is closer to under control.

-- Norway  I really want to go to Norway.  I can already hear you, "You want to go anywhere!"  And, you would be correct.  But, I have a very good reason to want to go there as well.  One of my former students, who I haven't seen since he was a second grader in Zambia, returned home to Oslo more than twenty years ago.  One time he invited me to Norway and I actually went for the weekend.  (That isn't something you can easily do from Ohio, but it's not that bad when you are in Belgium.)  I went, and my student got the dates mixed up.  I never saw him, but I visited the National Museum to see "The Scream".  I was the only visitor in that gallery room!  Well, I wasn't really alone.  There was a security guard right at my side.  Perhaps I stared too long or too closely at the art?  But, I was thrilled with the personal viewing and the information the guard had to share.  That same week I had seen the "Mona Lisa" in Paris.  But, it was with at least 100 other tourists flashing their cameras and there was no private security guard to answer any of my questions.  So, yes, please bring me back to Norway!

The Stone at the Door - While trapped at my home in Ohio, unsuccessfully avoiding nasty viruses lurking about, I have spent a lot of time working on children's books.  I just finished my tenth one.  (If you want to look over the entire collection, I have them all up on my website.)  Over the years, I have gathered and rewritten over 250 folk tales.  I have two volumes, each with 50 tales, of West African and Southern African stories.  I have two more collections of 50 tales each from Burma and Thailand that have been sitting around inside my computer gathering dust for at least 20 years.  It just takes so long to illustrate 50 tales that I have had a hard time getting started.  I still lack the motivation.  ANYWAY, all this is to say, my most recent folk tale, The Stone at the Door - a Moroccan Tale of Love, is my very favorite tale that I have discovered from anywhere on the planet.  Yep, top of the list with no competition even close. 

My distant runner-up favorite tales are Spider and the Honey Tree and The Chief Who Was No Fool, both collected when I was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Liberia.  I absolutely love to tell my spider story.  I've done it enough that I have learned how to interact with the audience and keep their attention.  It's a great listen.  But, still, The Stone at the Door wins out.  You know how you are supposed to get better with practice?  It may not always work, but I think my writing has gotten better the more I write.  The two volumes of 50 stories each were edited, modified and perfected more times than I can even count.  And, all that practice did its job.  I took the best story I ever found and rewrote it at my finest.  I just love this tale.

My folk tale books remind me of people along my pathway because I have gathered many of these stories as I wandered the globe muraling.  I think of Greg, my mural partner, when I read the Jamaican tale of Anansi and the Market Pig.  I never would have returned to Albania for two mural projects or discovered The Half-Rooster, if I hadn't met Vita and Haxhi.  My best friend from my Peace Corps days, Daniel, and so many other gracious Liberians warm my heart as I read Once Upon West Africa.  And, it's the same for The Stone at the Door.  This tale takes place in the Atlas Mountains of Morocco where all the homes and fortresses are made of adobe bricks and stone.  It's where my friend Lahcen lived, and I fled to his home outside the village of Taddart whenever I wanted to escape the hurried life of Casablanca.  Sadly, Lahcen passed away not so long ago.  This book is dedicated to my friend and his family.  I can't wait to share this labor of love with them.  When you read the tale, you can already guess the only name I used throughout the story.

Silver Boxes -  As I sit, (formerly) quarantined, (currently) socially distanced, and (still) otherwise sequestered in front of my computer, I listen to a lot of YouTube videos, podcasts, and radio programs while I work on book illustrations.  The listening is kind of like that box of chocolates mentioned by Forrest Gump.  You never know what you're going to get.  Sometimes the listen is something pretty good.  Sometimes I can't even finish the video.  (I never have that problem with chocolate.)  Usually the message is informative.  And, sometimes, very rarely, I stumble across a treasure.  That was my reaction to the inspirational speaker, Florence Littauer, who shared words of kindness and healing.  

Littauer's story began as she sat in a church service, minding her own business seated on a pew.  The pastor stood up and said, "I see that Florence Littauer is in our audience this morning.  I think it would be nice if we had her come up front and share a few words."  Now, I personally would have liked a little more warning.  I do pretty well with public speaking, but I still like to mull things over in my mind a while before I'm called up front.

As Littauer made her way up to the front of the church, the preacher got even more specific.  He suggested, "In fact, why don't we have Florence give the children's sermon this morning?"  As she wracked her brain for an idea of what to talk about, children throughout the congregation gathered at the front of the church to hear just what she had to say.  Fortunately, the kids walked faster than she could so she had a few seconds to gather her thoughts.

When she arrived at the podium, Littauer decided to teach the children a Bible verse and selected Ephesians 4:29 which declares:  "Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers."  Personally, if I were called upon to do this, I would have selected a verse with much simpler vocabulary.  She had to break the verse up in sections and discuss each part with her young audience.  I have to admit, Littauer did an excellent job communicating this verse to the children.  She ended up her explanation saying that the words that we speak should be like gifts to others.  I'd never thought of conversation that way.  I suddenly liked this verse a whole lot more.

Now, you still may wonder whether the concept was successfully conveyed to the young audience.  There is no need to worry.  One little girl got it.  And she, too, apparently wondered if the audience understood the lesson.  She stood up, faced the congregation, and declared, "What she means is that our words should be like a little silver box with a bow on top."

That sentence stopped me in my tracks. 

Everyone wants this kind of silver box given to them.  Everyone needs them as well.  I know times when I definitely have not given someone a silver box.  I may not have thought they deserved one, but we all do.  Words have consequences.  They wound.  They uplift.  They tear down.  And, they delight.  I'm very sure that everyone can remember when they were not given words even close to a precious metal.  But, hopefully, we can also think of times when we've received them and the person who gave them.  In this blog, I've tried to share little things that have happened to me recently that made me grateful.  But, what I want you to remember most of all is the importance of giving silver boxes with a bow on top.  Give them often.  Give them every day.  Give them wherever you go.  It's okay to give away a million little silver boxes.