My First Baha'i Funeral

On October 21, 2011, for the first time in my life I stood in a cemetery beside a coffin before it was set into the ground. It was the first time I attended a Baha’i funeral. It was the first time I heard the Baha’i obligatory prayer for a funeral, Prayer for the Dead. It was not however, the first time I had cried for a deceased acquaintance.

The ceremony for Arlene Beverly Shimeld was conducted with dignity and respect attended by her family and her friends. I imagined her body wrapped in a traditional shroud of silk or cotton, and on her finger perhaps there was a ring bearing the inscription "I came forth from God, and return unto Him, detached from all save Him, holding fast to His Name, the Merciful, the Compassionate", but I couldn’t be sure. The wooden coffin was closed, draped with a narrow cloth of sophisticated patterns and garnished with a flower arrangement.

I stared past the casket at the groomed grounds and watched leaves flip and fall to the earth. My thoughts formed the sentence, “October is a good month to die.” The change of season offered up strong winds, rich fall foliage and people wrapping themselves and each other in their arms. I felt tears in my eyes and assigned them to happiness. I was glad to be in the presence of God and to be there to wish Arlene a safe journey the Abha Kingdom. 

The Moment I Knew

THE MOMENT I KNEW that I had made one of the best decisions of my life was when my story, “How Detachment Changes Everything”, appeared in print among twenty-nine published and first-time women authors. I was humbled to have my work included with tales that have expressed personal revelations about reflections on love, relationships, pregnancy and children, family and lessons learned, family influence, faith and culture, loss, self-discovery, and on life and the human condition.

On Thursday, September 22, 2011, two extraordinary things were laid in my hands. A dear friend took mine in hers and told me that she had been diagnosed with a dramatic heart condition and the specialist told her that she had five years to live. Our eyes searched each other’s souls to find a place where we could console our hurt. I said I was sorry to hear about her heartbreaking condition and she told me that she was sorry to have had to tell me about it. Shock set in. I led my friend to a comfortable chair and asked her to tell me all about her condition. She spoke in her normal tone as though she had prepared herself for her story’s release. I nodded slowly at first and then felt my body rocking back and forth as though her message was more than my brain could handle. I smiled at her to reassure her that it would be all right. But it was false hope, because I have no say in her length of stay in our material world.

Our concentration was interrupted by our husbands’ voices as they returned through the apartment door from having toured the building. Frank, my husband, was caring a sealed package and handed it me. I looked over at my quiet friend and said, “This is my book. My essay is in this book.”

I reached over and touched her hand and she understood that I wanted her permission to open it, to end our heart-condition conversation. She nodded and I acted immediately.

I laughed and whimpered a bit at the same time. I was thrilled with excitement at seeing my essay on page sixty-three, but at the same time felt restrained by the depth of sorrow I saw in my sweet friend’s eyes.

The interruption was the excuse our friends needed to set in motion their leaving for home. We hugged each other and said, “I love you.” After I watched their car drive away I sat and read the book, The Moment I Knew – Reflections From Women on Life’s Defining Moments.

http://www.tsnelson.com/publicationstore.html

http://www.youtube.com/user/ReflectionsFromWomen?feature=mhee

Susan writes for the love of it.

Picking Up Trash Has Its Rewards

“What? You’re getting an award for picking up trash?” Frank said.

“Yes. I guess picking up garbage has its rewards,” I said.

I had just put the telephone receiver back in its cradle and made the announcement to my husband. I told him that Ms. Martin, the Environmental Coordinator for the City of Campbell River said that I had been nominated for a Stewardship Award and asked if I would accept it?

“Oh! That’s wonderful. But why me?” I said.

“Mr. Stewart from Dogwood Operations nominated you,” she said.

I have yet to meet Mr. Stewart face-to-face, but I’ve talked with him several times on the phone. We talked about the condition of the sidewalks and boulevards in Campbell River and how more garbage cans might entice people to toss their trash into them if they were handier. I told him that I was going to clean up the city of Campbell River one block at a time and asked how he could help.

“I can give you a few trash pickers. Would that help you and your Clean Living volunteers?” he said.

Indeed it does help along with the latex gloves and garbage bags donated by Mr. Adams, a City Councillor. Back in April 2011, I initiated the removal of rubbish from the boulevards and sidewalks of Campbell River, one block at a time and called the project Clean Living. Since then, I have adopted a 350-metre section of the city between 4^th Avenue and 2^nd Avenue on Dogwood Street. Each month, I gather with friends and pick up rubbish. We chat and laugh and know that we are being of service to the community and to God.

The Waste Reduction Award was a kind gift offered by the City of Campbell River and it humbles me to know that the Clean Living group of volunteers is recognized for its dedication to life itself. 

Clean Living volunteers

Clean Living volunteers

Service itself is the reward

Give Peace a Chance

I Like That September 21^st is recognized as the International Day of Peace. We all need peace in our lives. I especially love a peaceful sleep where I finally succumb to an unconscious state and enjoy dreams presented to me in waves containing subtle messages. In the morning, I take the time to sit on a chair in my bedroom with my feet planted on the floor and mediate by focusing on my breath. I breathe in and out until I am in the moment and awake.

I enjoy the peaceful sensation that greets me every morning when I look into my husband’s eyes and accept his gentle kiss on my lips and his bear hug afterwards. I thank him every morning for his tender treatment of me.

Peace comes over me when I gaze on photographs of my son. We have an interesting and compelling relationship that is held together by my unconditional love for him. I am also filled with tranquility when I get to visit with my grandson or speak with him on the phone.

I am at peace when I am preparing a meal for Frank and I. Sipping on soup and munching on a turkey and cheese wrap fills me with satisfaction. I am also mindful of tidying up afterward and take great pleasure in washing the dishes in the sink. I’ve learned to calm myself down by practicing meditation, which puts me in the moment. I am grateful for the privilege of attending a mindfulness class once a week at the local hospital.

♫“All we are saying is give peace a chance.”♫ – John Lennon

At peace with my son and grandson

At peace with my husband and surrounded by nature.
(flower photos by Hans Toby)

World’s Largest Bunnock

We travelled gravel roads, secondary highways and fast-moving freeways during our holiday in August 2011. The roadways led to points of interest, restaurants or picnic areas, landscapes or museums to explore, roadside pullouts or a motel to rest.

Frank had fashioned our 1986 Classic Toyota van to use as our accommodations and a storage unit. He covered the wooden sleeping bunk with carpet and on that laid our blow-up mattress. Each evening we climbed into the back of the van, slipped into our sleeping bags, laid our heads on pillows and gratified ourselves with sleep.

In the morning, we sipped coffee prepared on a pullout table at the back of the van, sat in lawn chairs and chomped on fruit. Each day we purposefully travelled the back roads so we could meet small-town folks along the way. A thirty-two foot structure, which is situated at the junction of highway 13 and highway 14, caught our attention and we drove to it so that we could talk to the young lady held captive by the structure. She told us she spends her summer days in the tourist booth at the base of the replica of an anklebone of a horse. Down the hill is Macklin, a border town between Alberta and Saskatchewan renowned as the Bunnock Capital of the World!

“What’s this structure supposed to be?” I said.

“It represents the game, Bunnock, which translates from Russian into bone. The Russian Germans first introduced the game to Canada. It was adopted from the game played in Siberia. You play it like horseshoes. Your team stacks its fifty-two bones on level ground at one end of a 10-meter runway while the other team does the same at its end. Then the teams toss their bones to try to knock down each other’s bones. The team with the most bones left standing is the winner,” she said.

I nodded and pictured the participants flinging bones from one end of a straightaway to another. We had arrived several days past the scheduled August long-weekend world championship event and so did not witness the bone-tossing game.

We drove away from Macklin happy to have learnt about the game call Bunnock. I've put a link below.

  World's Largest Bunnock 

An Eye Catcher
-source Macklin poster

A Bunnock Tosser
- source Macklin poster

Welcome to Macklin

Frank the Fiddler

I LIKE THAT Frank plays the violin and wanted to up his skill to that of a fiddle player. Frank the Fiddler has a ring to it. On August 11 we arrived at Windy Acres, seven kilometers west of Saskatoon and joined the collection of recreational vehicles parked on John Arcand’s property. John is the champion of this annual fiddle festival and welcomes all his guests personally. His lovely wife, Vicky, orchestrates all the events and is a kind person to talk with.

Frank parked our Classic Van beside a group of proud-to-be-Metis’ and we listened to the history between European settlers in Canada and the First Nations Peoples. We enjoyed the variety of gentle people at the festival and were proud of the young Canadians who attended the event simply to play the fiddle. For four days we attended all-day grandstand events including competitions among the new fiddlers and the seasoned regulars. The upbeat sounds coming from the many tents were a pleasure to my ears. The distinguishable scent of perogies and sausage filled the concession and we filled our bellies with a generous portion served by the upbeat volunteers.

On our last evening at the John Arcand Fiddle Fest we participated in a old-time dance. Frank has square-dancing experience and he guided me around the wooden floor. My smile went out to everyone and I knew I was in a truly happy place. 

www.johnarcandfiddlefest.com

Frank the Fiddler

Susan and Frank learn finger weaving

Entertainment everywhere you look

Classic Van on Windy Acres

Thompson Nicola Baha'i Summer School

I LIKE THAT we took the time to drop in on Ms. Marge Mitchell who lives in Barrier, BC. Unfortunately, she was not home but fortunately her daughter-in-law was there to tell us that Marge was attending the Thompson Nicola Baha’i Summer School at the ski resort in Clearwater. We decided that we would join friends at the event.

            The moment we arrived we picked up energy of friendliness and welcome. There were tents and recreational vehicles parked on the property and we placed our camping van among them. We entered the ski chalet and joined sixty-five others to listen to Judith and Michael Bopp share their topic on freedom from prejudice. Another speaker was David Bowe, who reminded us of participating in all Baha’i activities. There was uplifting news from Iran and John Sargent presented a video on Huququ’llah.

            Throughout the days, Frank and I mingled and met up with old friends and made new ones. I attended an art workshop hosted by Marge Mitchell while Frank attended a sing-a-long under a separate big top tent. We gathered for food and were entertained in the evening with a children’s sing-a-long, a youth play and adult singers, Frank among them.

            If you want to be refreshed in the summer, plan to attend the next Thompson Nicola Baha’i Summer School in August 2012.  www.bahaischools.org

“Knowledge is as wings to man’s life, and a ladder for his ascent.” Baha’u’llah

A gathering of spirits at a Baha'i school

Everyone is welcome to attend a Baha'i school