Recently, I spotted a celebrity Muppet -- Elmo who looks older and more subdued in person. I always loved members of the Sesame Street Gang: Big Bird, Bert and Ernie, Mr. Snuffleupagus, and even Oscar the Grouch. 

Image of Elmo 

    

    

Where was Elmo going?

    Elmo was a long way from Sesame Street when I saw him rolling by on top of a pink suitcase boarding my plane. His head bobbed, his arms wrapped with bungee cords to the suitcase handles, and his long legs dangled along, making for an odd sight.

    This celebrity Muppet known for his contagious chuckle seemed subdued. His bright eyes looked     dull. His cardinal red fur coat, once thick and fluffy, appeared faded and thinning.

    Too many hugs? Or was he weary and ready to return home? I didn’t ask.

    A young wisp of a girl pulled the suitcase. She wore a shiny smile and her shiny blonde hair pulled    back in a ponytail. She trailed behind two adults looking or their seats.

    Elmo’s traveling companion carried herself with an air of confidence, which made me think wonder her age. Elmo, her constant companion, likely knows her age and her dreams.

    Many adults might consider Elmo a perfect travel partner because he doesn’t get hungry, tired, or mad. Plus, he can go anywhere without a passport. 

   I wondered how many places Elmo had wandered, and if today he was going home like me.

 

   I have a surprise guest blogger today whose inspiration comes from the multi-talented Mr. Rogers. What follows is a piece written by my mother that first appeared in the Court Street Methodist newsletter. 

 Won’t you be my neighbor? 

         Fred Rogers, a role model of kindness, was the celebrity of my childhood. Although I lost my autographed fan photo, I have kept many memories of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood, which first aired out of WQED-TV in Pittsburgh. 

        His long-running program offered guidance for children. Rogers wanted to help children “feel accepted.” He addressed their questions, concerns, and fears through his puppet plays, interviews with  songs. Rogers considered himself a musician and held a degree in music composition. He wrote the  melodies and lyrics for 200 songs. (I can still sing some of the catchy tunes today.)

     

        Words from one of Mr. Rogers’ song: “Sometimes people are good and do just what they should, and the very same people who are good sometimes are the very same people who are bad sometimes. It’s funny but it’s true.” “It’s the same for us. There is a scripture verse that expresses our constant struggle between right and wrong.

        When I want to do right, I sometimes do wrong. Of course, none of us are perfect. All have sinned and fallen short. All are in need of foregiveness. So we need to have tolerance for those who may be in need of forgiveness and also  have patience with ourselves as we struggle to do what is right. 

         We are not all good or all bad, but a mixture of both, and will always struggle with good and evil. So I wish you God’s help and blessings in your daily struggles with good and evil, and right and wrong, and love and hate. 

            Let love prevail in your life. 

Footnote: For further reading, check out “I’m Proud of You,” by Tim Madigan. It’s an account of  the author’s friendship with Fred Rogers. This unlikely friendship blossomed after Madigan profiled Rogers for the Star-Telegram. 

 

 

    Do you know your local librarian?

     Last week, while wandering around the library in the children’s section, I met a former school librarian who worked in my township library.

    “Do you have questions?” she said. Her eyes lit up. She recommended several series of books, sprinting to and from the shelves, with me tagging behind her. Her knowledge was impressive.

    “Children’s books are for all ages,” she said, explaining why they didn’t separate out books aimed at ages 1-4 from those geared for ages 4-8.

    “Sometimes students [who could read] asked me to read books to them,” the librarian said. She knew her students were trying to avoid listening to the lesson that day. But she’d read to them, anyway.

    While I was sitting at the low table, stacks of plastic covered books in front of me, I heard a woman’s low, gentle voice reading aloud. Moments later, that woman asked me if I would watch her kids while she went to the restroom. I must have looked puzzled because they weren’t with her.

    “They’re wearing the green shirts. I’ll be right back,” she said, pointing at the all gender restroom door.

    I agreed, happy that I looked like a trustworthy human to this stranger. No stranger would leave their kids unattended in a park, but a library is safer place. Then, the next moment, I felt anxious, unable to concentrate on my book—one geared at 4-8-year-olds. Egads, what if these children ran out the back door? Where is the back door? I planned to stand up and look at the kids behind me, but she emerged from the door, thanked me, and walked back to the reading area with comfortable couches.

    I walked by the three later, a boy and a girl wearing Kelly green shirts, seated on each side of their adult caretaker, maybe? their grandmother. These kids weren’t squirming or looking bored—nope — they had their eyes on the pages following along.

    An hour later, when I checked out my books, my new friend, the librarian, gave me a come-back-again smile. She also offered that their children’s librarian was also available too.

    “You’ll get more comfortable each time you visit the section,” she said.

    Recently, I visited the post office and received unsolicited help from the clerk whose trained eye zoned in on my two brown envelopes holding my passport renewal materials. She told me it was safer and cheaper to use one envelope instead of two. When I agreed, she pulled out the forms and examined them. She got to work—reviewing the content, stapling another corner of my photo, and adding info on the check.

    How did I miss that? In a matter-of-fact way, she admitted the government issued instructions weren’t as clear as they should be. Then she continued correcting the missing information that could delay our passports. Surprisingly, she didn’t make me feel embarrassed. She didn’t scold me, instead she smiled. She told me I should see my new passport in six weeks, maybe sooner.

    It’s always worrisome to mail anything, especially a passport. However, my friendly, efficient, passport certified clerk was terrific. I practically skipped out of the post office, glad that she was on duty that day.

 

Where will you be during the eclipse?

This year’s eclipse has wider appeal than its predecessor in 2017 because its path covers populated areas allowing more than 31 million to experience the event.

    During the last eclipse, I stood on the sidewalk with about 60 colleagues, put on those funky special glasses, and gazed upward. I witnessed this eerie event. For me, it was reverent experience and one I knew I’d always remember, albeit a brief interlude from a busy work day.  

 I lived in Cleveland then, and the last time I stood in a crowd was watching a manmade marvel the year before. It felt like the whole city came out to celebrate this rare occurrence that had last occurred 52 years ago – the Cleveland Cavaliers won the championship series defeating the Golden State Warriors. The Cavaliers delivered a win, and the city kept their promise to host a parade. Packed streets, noisy crowds, and a long, slow procession filled with impromptu speeches was memorable. Everyone was "All in," to quote the fans' mantra to celebration. 

    But I had a more meaningful experience standing with the small, quiet group who spent less than 15 minutes outside observing nature. I don’t even want to consider a contest between natural events and sporting events. ( I hope we have an innate love for our natural world.)

    I have always been awed by celestial events, whether it’s a falling star or a meteorite shower. Because I have trouble staying up late enough to enjoy a meteorite shower, I was thrilled that there was a comet visible during daylight hours. Enter Hale-Bopp. Hale-Bopp was an extraordinary and friendly comet greeting me each morning during its short stay in 1997.

Wherever you are next week for the eclipse wear those special glasses and bring your sense of wonder.