Giving thanks for the power to amaze

Let’s face it. The word ‘amazed’ is often over used. “I’m amazed I finished my book.” No, I’m not. I knew I was going to do it because I HAD to do it. Another standby: “I’m amazed that I ate the whole thing!” Actually that wasn’t so amazing either. It was good. It was there. I ate it. All of it.

The point I’m trying to make is that it really isn’t often that an act or an event justifies the use of the word ‘amazed’. But I heard a story on the news the other day that touched me and made me feel all warm and fuzzy and … well … amazed. Bear with me, here goes.

This couple was traveling in their RV in the Midwest, heading north. They stopped at a truck stop for a bite to eat and when the woman got out of the RV, she spotted a monarch butterfly on the pavement. One of its wings was broken. She was so touched by the plight of the butterfly that she carefully picked it up and carried it back into the RV. She and her husband got on the Internet and did a little research and low and behold, they discovered a method of fixing a broken butterfly wing. So they did it. They mended the wing.
They got to talking with a cross country truck driver who was going south and asked him if he would take the butterfly with him to Florida. He very willingly agreed and set out on his way with the butterfly. Once there, as promised, he released the Monarch, which promptly flew away and then he called the couple in the RV and let them know that his delicate cargo had made the trip and was doing fine.

Amazing, right? An amazing act of compassion. An amazing act of kindness. Absolutely amazing that three people would go to such lengths and extremes for the sake of a tiny little butterfly that could have ended up just another bug on the highway.

I am so thankful to live in a country where there are people who would mend a broken butterfly wing and people who would transport a butterfly in an 18 wheeler clear across the United States just so it could finish its migration. Those acts are true reflections of the American spirit and generosity. It’s those same types of people who dig into their pockets and their hearts to help earthquake and flood victims and stock local food pantries and volunteer at hospitals and give to animal shelters. Those same people pull tags off Angel trees at Christmas and buy gifts for children they don’t know, or send care packages to our deployed troops – again, who they don’t know - so they’ll know someone back home appreciates what they do.

In short, I’m thankful that this world still has the power to amaze me – in good ways. In ways that justify the word to the deed. How about you? Have you been amazed recently? I really want to hear about it. And in the meantime, Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Kathleen On Freeing the Butterflies and Other Changes

I've had all kind of butterflies this summer. Some were raised in the kitchen, others in my stomach. It's all about changes.

We gave the grandchildren a butterfly house this summer. Sent for the larvae and, much to everyone's delight, raised them through their stages and had four painted butterflies. (One chrysalis didn't make it, so we had that lesson, too.) We fed them in the butterfly house for a couple of weeks while we explained that they were looking forward to freedom. Then we had a release party. The kids professed love and good wishes to each critter as it took flight.

Lately we Riders have talked a lot about emptying the nest, letting go, dealing with life's changes. The big guy in the pictures is my firstborn, father of the two girls. My baby is Daddy to my grandson. Our male Eagles have come back to the nest once or twice, which is typical of the bird as well. But that's another story. (Did you know that the only way to tell male from female eagles is by weight. Guess which is heavier.)

So, changes. I'm back to caring for little ones a lot, which is a joy and a challenge. Back to buying school supplies and clothes, which I missed in recent years. And I'm back to writing the shorter series books, which is an adjustment after writing one big book a year for several years. I'm remembering the line from one of my favorite movies, Dirty Dancing. "Lots of changes, old Max. Lots of changes."

So let's talk again about making changes. Adapting. Surviving. I don't want to be the critter that couldn't break free of the chrysalis. I want to stretch my wings. How about you?