Feeling blessed tonight
among friends and family
celebrating me.
Je suis enchantée
parmi amis et famille
en me célébrant
Thank you – Merci!
© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/03/09
Poetry ~ Waka
What an appropriate offering for Women’s International Day…Bonne Journée à toutes les femmes!!
The prompt for this story says to Dream Big. Wow! I can make up a story, a poem or write about something I have always wished for. The options are endless and you know what? Today my dream may be different from my dream tomorrow or next week. Are not dreams part of who we are? Are they not mere escapes at will in order to survive the world in which we live? Since this is my birthday weekend, I decided to add more than a dream and more like a celestial dream…something over the top and a dream I have wished come true many times.
A call of hope
Dawn tilted her head as she listened to the other teen at the end of the line. Let’s call this caller Gabriella. “I can’t take it anymore,” she wept, “My father is coming home in a few hours and I know he’s going to…you know….”she sobbed softly. Dawn could hear the fear in her caller’s voice. She was barely a teen, her mother died last year . Gabriella had no one but her father now. He’d started drinking heavily after his wife died. She had an auntie and grandparents but she was too ashamed about what “they did” that she did not dare ask for help…until tonight.
Dawn listened, and tried to reassure her caller. She asked her if she could go to her auntie’s house for the weekend and it would give her time to think about what she might want to do later. She encouraged Gabriella to call the youth line again from auntie’s house.
Dawn waited…there was a long pause. “I guess I could go but he won’t let me stay overnight usually because, ….well, you know…” Dawn thought about that for a moment and did something she has never done before. “Go to your auntie’s right now. It’s just a short walk. Bring a bag of clothes for 3 or 4 days and once you get there, tell your auntie your father gave you permission to stay over.”
Gabriella interrupted, “But I already told you!!! He will be angry and he gets violent when he gets mad. He’ll just pick me up there and drag me back home. I’m too scared to do that.”
Dawn repeated softly, “Sweetie, I know you’re scared. You are a very brave girl. You reached out here tonight and took a chance to tell someone about your situation. I get it. And you know what? I trust that you can do one more brave thing and that is to go to your auntie with your bag of clothes. Leave a note on the kitchen table saying your auntie needed you to babysit and help her with the children for the weekend. Then call me as soon as you get settled at your auntie’s. Is that okay? Call back here and ask to speak to Dawn.”
The caller hesitated and then said, “Okay, if you say so. You will be there when I call back?” Dawn reassured her that she would. They disengaged.
Dawn then went into the quiet room where counsellors often went to unwind after a difficult call. She shut the lights, put on her “special music” her smart phone, lied down on the comfy couch and put in her ear buds. Soft angelic voices hummed softly, followed by a violin crying melodiously and Dawn could feel herself drift off. Her soul seemed to lift from her body and float above her for a moment and then it floated away.
Gabriella hurried to pack her bag and walked the 4 blocks to her auntie’s house. As soon as she walked up the steps, her auntie opened the door as if she were expecting her. She said, “Hey there, Gaby, I was waiting for you. It’s so weird. I fell asleep a few minutes when I put Jimmy to bed and had the weirdest dream. You were crying out to me running away from a monster. It was the scariest thing.” She hugged her niece warmly. “Well, come in sweetie.”
Gabriella’ father arrived home and shouted out to his daughter but there was no answer. He looked around the living room, went to Gaby’s bedroom and then came back to the kitchen and saw a note on the table. “I’m staying at Auntie Sue for the weekend or maybe longer. She needs me to help with Jimmy and the baby, Gaby”
He was fuming with rage. He threw the table against the wall. Suddenly, he heard a strange sound, a violin a woman chanting; then he saw his wife! But it couldn’t be.
She floated right through the living room wall. The music continued and this apparition that resembled his wife floated up closer to him.
“William”, the apparition said. It was not the voice of his wife but her face was so, so, lovely! His wife who he missed so much was here. The voice seemed harsh at first. “William, I have an important message. Sit down and listen. I will only say this once, so pay attention.”
The voice spoke of the Great Spirit of slipping to the other side and consequences. It was a long speech and although he was scared there was something peaceful about it. As the apparition slowly lifted, the strings of the violin intensified in a melody that wrapped him with intense emotions fear, guilt and wonder. He wept for the first time since his wife died, and wept and wept. Then he called his sister-in-law.
Gabriella couldn’t believe her ears! Her auntie gave her a message from her father. She was so surprised.
Dawn heard a knock at the door of the quiet room. Her colleague announcing that her break was finished and time to get back on the phones. She stretched and could not help feeling tired despite her nap. She felt like she had run on her usual 6 K run on Lakeshore. She rubbed her legs and went to her workstation. The phone rang, “You’ve reached a counsellor, how can I help you?”
“Hi, Dawn, I have a caller who says you told her to call back, let me patch her through.”
“It’s Gabriella. I’m at my auntie’s like you told me to do. And the strangest thing happened. My father is going to rehab and will be away for a few months. He said we’ll talk about my staying with Auntie for good and maybe he’ll just visit me for a while instead. Isn’t that strange?”
Dawn smiled, nodding gently a tear running down her cheek.
© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/03/08
Written for: The Seeker’s Dungeon. This week’s prompt is Dreaming Big (running from March 6 – March 12) Click here to see what other writers have contributed to this week’s prompt as well as last week’s.
The Red violin soundtrack (Anna’s Theme)
They say smiling is contagious. This poem is inspirational and warms the heart and inspires so much hope. I want to share this especially with Leslie and Sandy, big hugs!
There is a question I used to wonder,
And the answer lies deep under.
What is the most beautiful thing that exists?
There, the answers remains a long wide list.
Could it be the wide blue sky?
The place where hope lies.
Or could it be the rainbow,
Where the dreams soar up so.
It was at the point of time,
When I felt like making everything mine.
Realisation hits right at me,
And I saw what I always wanted to see.
The most beautiful thing,
Where different stories sing.
It cannot be seen with bare eyes,
And cannot be covered with lies.
There it go,
Following the flow.
When we start to feel with our hearts,
Then that is when the journey really starts.
– CW
This week’s prompt at The Seeker’s Dungeon is: Gratitude (running from February 27 – March 5)
“Gratitude is not only the greatest of the virtues but the parent of all others.” – Marcus Tullius Cicero
This week’s Prompt is hosted by Karuna Poole: “I was present once when Jean Wiger, a psychotherapist from the Midwest, was asked what she considered to be the best predictor of success in therapy. Her response was, “The client’s capacity to experience gratitude.” Later, I was taught depression and gratitude cannot co-exist. That isn’t to say that we should feel grateful for the many ways human beings abuse each other, but rather once we have had a chance to work through our anger, sadness and fear, we can choose to put our focus on the skills and positive qualities we’ve developed as a result of having survived whatever trauma we’ve experienced.”
That really struck me when I read if depression is still present, it cannot co-exist with feelings of gratitude. I often wondered about that. I can see how it would cloud my view on the world if I am stuck with past fears, anger and sadness. But what about melancholy…moments my muse seems to appear as well? I tend to dip into bouts of melancholy from time to time and I embrace them more lately so I can do some introspection and write, my new-found love, my muse.
I have stopped trying to figure out the why or what over the years when moods dip into darker states. Chronic pain? hormones? Fatigue? Life? Family? Work? {I have certainly been in and out of therapy as well in the past to help me through these journeys.}
And, if anything, my work is my salvation. I love what I do no matter how painful it is to hear some stories at times, from my callers…I feel grateful and privileged to be in a position to sometimes, make a small difference even if it is for just a moment.
As for other reasons to feel down…well, take your pick…life situations or just plain getting the blues for a while. Sometimes it is a blessing and the universe`s way to say, “Slow down!” I do believe that I may have suffered for years with SAD and that half of the province where I live…with our long winters probably do to some degree.
And when life throws a curved ball now and then, I am learning to embrace it, hold on for dear life at times; surprisingly, I am thankful for this as well. The enlightenment that follows any amount of suffering is priceless.
I often tell myself, “Thank goodness I work!” It forces me to get out of the house in the dead of winter. Perhaps it is also the feeling of having a purpose. We all want to feel this. Look at those who are not quite ready for their retirement. It is a huge and sometimes painful life transition if not carefully planned. I am not talking about financially…emotionally prepared.
In the early 80`s my step-father died and it crushed my spirit. He had been given 3 months to live after his diagnosis and he actually died 3 months later. Having a second baby made my visits only twice weekly , less frequently than I had wished; I felt I missed connecting with him; there was so much I wish I had said to him or heard from him.
A few years later, I began a certificate in Gerontology offered to volunteers. Most of the students were over 65 years old. Lovely women learning how to help elderly persons more and most of them sharing, “My husband just retired and I have to get out of the house…he has taken over my kitchen” or “He`s driving me bonkers!”
At that time I had also started doing friendship visits to isolated, lonely older persons and by the end of my certificate I was hired as a personal support worker in home care. I remember visiting this man who was in his 60’s, dying of cancer. I loved sitting with him, hearing his stories. He was an advocate for our small English community and taught me to be a bit of a shit disturber if I wanted to make some changes. He counselled me in my role on school and parent committees. I followed his advice and started a school daycare learning the school board policies and educational laws providing this right for hard-working parents seeking a good place to have their children go after school. This man just warmed my heart and filled me with so many ideas. He had fought to get English Catholic services available in our town twice weekly including Sunday school for the children. He was a devout Irish Catholic and I grew so fond of this man. I was able to listen to him when he wanted to talk about dying since he didn`t want to worry or hurt his loved ones. I was blessed having this privilege to be by his side during these times I had missed with my step-father.
The universe provides so many opportunities to fulfill our needs!
One day I was at Sunday mass and had not been for weeks and weeks; the priest was at the door welcoming parishioners and made a sarcastic remark, “Well, it is nice to see you pay us a visit today.” I knew this priest had been summoned for almost a year by the man I had visited. This man waited and waited, needing to share his thoughts, pray with him and lighten his soul. But never did that priest go…in fact a priest from another French parish made visits to sooth this dying man. I was privy to all of this. I have been blessed with this man`s trust as he shared his fears, prayed as I listened and held his hand many times.
And so my tongue was a bit sharp as I smiled, tilted my head to the side and said, “Ah, yes, I have missed many Sunday obligations, haven`t I now, Father. But you see, I have replaced them with visits of compassion these past few months visiting a parishioner you well know, Mr. ***.” To this response, he blushed, forced a weak smile, and I sauntered to the front near the altar to sit with my two children.
I am so grateful to have met this lovely man who inspired me just at a time in my life I was searching for my purpose . I am thankful to have met him and that he accepted my presence on his last passage. That was the start of my journey on my path in learning, exploring, discovering and getting my degree eventually to work with people full-time. I am grateful to have started a second rich and rewarding career, blessed having the opportunity to reap life’s rewards.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/03/02

As a teen she felt insecure, shamed
she simply wanted to hide away
felt undressed with eyes, defamed,
made her feel on public display;
passing construction sites
the worst of all transgression
feeling eyes taking wee bites
of her dignity, her self assertion.
And then she grew so much older
could finally saunter down a street
head up high and feeling bolder
no comments heard, indiscreet
suddenly she had become invisible,
walked in stores, not even noticeable
sales clerks gazed above her head
wishing to cater to a younger set
20 and 30 something adults instead.
travelling on busses and subways
she disappeared in so many ways
youths with their real smart phones
ears plugged, heeding their drones
mostly self-absorbed with conceit
rarely considering to give up their seat
she had become invisible…and yet
she saw the hunched backed person
mounting the steps with a cane,
a man struggling to breathe in vain,
a woman with child still in her belly
who could miss a thing of such beauty?
they too had all become invisible
how come she could still see these people?
offering her seat, was the only suitable
and proper thing to do…
Getting older gives her freedom
no longer fraught, not even a tussle.
by salespersons or deviant men
she walks anywhere without a hassle.
It can be trying in eateries
when waiters just ignore
older women frequently
assuming this group of females
will seldom produce a nice gratuity
ah yes, that rule may be unspoken
they cater more to men of all ages
presuming they will get a better token.
How very rude and pejorative
to hold on views so negative!
but as long as older women stay invisible
they may as well make their tips miniscule. {grins}
© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/03/01
(haiku)
Infant cries warn moms.
Angels come in all shapes and sizes.
Miracles take place.
© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/02/27
This video needs little explanation but I thought the Haiku was fitting. I hope you enjoy this video as much as I did …it brought happy tears to my eyes.
A 14 Year Old Girl Abandoned Her Newborn Baby. What This Dog Did Is UNBELIEVABLE.
Some people just make a difference
motivate, mentor, guide you in life
I had many teachers, advisers
but some just totally inspire you
that’s what SG and LK do for me
Fighting with all their might
despite their Cancer plight
They’ll certainly not lose sight
who the real victors and winners are
as they triumph over this challenging fight
because they’ll be fighting this fight like A GIRL!
Hey! Fight like a Girl!
Grit your teeth, lean on your friend.
Courage thus defined.
We Drink Poetry Inspiration – Prompt #012 What Inspires You
This is not poetic in nature, and to call it a free verse is using the term loosely. However, I wanted to share where my writing all began at Alecoute-Ntouch, a site informing folks of workshops I was offering on life skills and professional and personal development. But then I got acquainted with WordPress and the world of blogging and discovered I had a lot to say too…
(haiku)
An idea simmers.
Words produce an awareness
conscious convictions.

I began writing to voice my thoughts
with Cher Shares, that was my first start,
voicing opinions, I sure did have a lot;
And then I was inspired by Herding Cats
that’s when my vision shifted a tat
I got on my soap box hoping to make a dent
at Stigma Hurts Everyone I wanted to vent,
yell out to the world that which is important
to me, things just needed to be heard,
nothing exceptional because some
may even have a knack to say it better
but maybe if we shout out loudly together
our voices may be heard that much noisier.
And then Cher Shares became a comfort zone
to write a story here, there, or even a poem
And, that’s the tale of how it all started
my story of a humble love affair
of words that I write from the heart
of passion, love and sometimes conviction
that’s why I blog, where I got my inspiration.
© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/02/25