Following the Lead of Gloria Dump

In Kate DiCamillo’s sweet little chapter book, “Because of Winn-Dixie,” ten-year-old Opal takes home a stray dog from her local supermarket and decides to name him after the Winn-Dixie store she found him in.

Opal is new in her small town in Florida and is lonely and the ragamuffin dog clearly has been abandoned so the two become a cozy team of shared acceptance, fun and love.

Eventually Opal meets the local “witch,” as the neighborhood brats call her. But Opal, who is not afraid of witches or nearly anything else, delights in Miss Gloria Dump and makes fast friends with her.

They are first acquainted when Opal chases Winn-Dixie through the overgrown grass in Miss Dump’s yard. He had sped away from Opal but she finally finds him in the backyard eating peanut butter out of Gloria Dump’s hand.

They greet one another and after sharing a peanut butter sandwich together they sit down to visit.

Miss Dump, who had put in her false teeth so she could eat, finishes her sandwich and then says to Opal:

You know, my eyes ain’t too good at all. I can’t see nothing but the general shape of things, so I got to rely on my heart. Why don’t you go on and tell me everything about yourself, so as I can see you with my heart.

This is how true friendships always begin and deepen.

We learn who people are by seeing them with our heart. It ought to be the most natural thing we do. But so often it’s not.

Society, church, political correctness has taught us to be on guard, to hold back, to check people out. We question motives. We survey outward appearances to see if they meet our approval. We listen for things that ring a little bell of rightness inside our head before we move on to acceptance. Do they agree with my politics? Are they a Christian? Are they as moral as I am? Do they drink too much or swear too often or have tattoos? Silly stuff like that we ask ourselves. And none of it comes from the heart. It’s all wound up in cynical judgments and too much caution and a failure to look deeper and listen for more.

There is that great line from Longfellow that I know but way too often fail to keep alive in my thoughts and actions: “Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.”

The neighborhood boys rode their bikes past Gloria Dump’s rickety old house, saw the high weeds in her yard, and called her a witch without ever having seen or talked to her.

But back behind the house in her small garden where she felt the good earth and kept to herself she let a scraggly dog eat peanut butter out of her hand and welcomed in a little girl who needed a friend.

Life, with all of its busy demands and its crankiness and rudeness, and our own participation in the ugliness of unkindness and aloofness and the harsh criticism of others, can be a deadening thing to our souls. It keeps us so closed off from the true warmth of the human spirit that at its core seeks to know love and to give it.

I want, if I can, to be like Gloria Dump and see people with my heart.

If I had five minutes to evacuate--what would I take with me?

If I was told there was a bomb in my building and I had five minutes to evacuate my apartment I’d grab a grocery bag and quickly toss these items into it: 1. A photo of my grandparents, Mom and Pop and me, when I was 15 years old. I learned what love is made of from them. I learned what it is to be kissed on and hugged in arms so tender they felt like God’s arms. I discovered self worth from those two angels in human flesh. Of all the people in my life, they were the ones who made me feel I counted. Honestly, whatever capacity I have to love others came from them. 2. A sentimental, dog-eared, stars in the margin copy of Pat Conroy’s, “The Prince of Tides.” It is a book I have read three times and often return to for its wisdom. It is a harsh, profoundly tragic novel, the story of a family so broken and tortured by such flawed and wounded people that it is sometimes difficult to turn the next page. And yet it is the story of such Herculean courage and endurance that you want...

I Saw the Delicacy of Life

I was flying Across the deep And I saw the delicacy Of life Wrinkles on the faces Of the old So pure they glistened Like awards The joy of children Running with abandon Their laughter ringing Like chimes in the wind I saw the soft moving waves Across the sea And the trees releasing Their rainbow leaves Birds joined me on my flight And I saw the surface of their wings Adorned with patterns Glorious and unfurled I saw the tears of the sad And the smiles of the glad The suffering in mourning And the celebration of birth As I descended toward the ground Slowly, slowly, softly I saw the gentle grass of the field And smelled the fresh earth It was a perfect landing © 2018 Timothy Moody

Actions Make a Difference

“We make progress in society only if we stop cursing and complaining about its shortcomings and have the courage to do something about them.” ~ Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, Physician/Author Pictured here is Kikuko Shinjo, 89 years old, a survivor of the Hiroshima atomic bomb blast. As a 17-year old nursing student she helped nurse victims of the carnage back to health. Many of them died in her care. She says she holds no grudge against America and encourages interaction between the Japanese and Americans. She has devoted her life to peace, saying, “I want all the people around the world to be friends, and I want to make my country peaceful without fighting.” Today she makes colorful paper cranes and donates them to the Children’s Peace Monument at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park.

The Unclad Soul

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