The Day I Learned About Cruelty and Intolerance

Source of photo: Vecteezy

I recall clearly that it was a beautiful sunny day: the kind of day that happens on that first day in the spring where everyone goes outside without a coat for the first time and the air smells fresh and new and full of possibility.

I was in grade three, walking hand-in-hand with another little girl, through the school playground. I clearly recall how wonderful it felt, to have a friend who didn’t mind showing the entire world that she liked me enough to hold my hand. I was not a particularly popular child in my early elementary years so any public demonstration of affection was a feather in my cap; a sign that I was popular too (sad, that even at age 8, I already understood the concept of ‘popular’).

“LIZZIES!!! Look at the two lizzies!” shouted an older kid, pointing at us and laughing loudly. At the time, I was sure that every single kid on the playground turned to look.

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Here’s to the Odd Ducks

Me with a fellow odd duck, many decades ago. And yes, I know it’s a goose…smile…

You see them everywhere, the Odd Ducks.

But only if you look; only if you are paying attention.

They dress differently from everyone else: some wear thrift-store clothes, have unkempt or unusual hair and don’t care a lick about fashion. Others are elaborately coiffed, flamboyant and colourful.

Some are loud and boisterous; others quiet and introspective; blending seamlessly into the woodwork.

They speak easily to the birds, the animals and the little spider in the corner of the room. They hug trees. They feel – and sometimes see – energy all around them. They speak gently to the weak, the tired, the broken and the seeking.

If they let you get to know them, they are interesting. And they are always interested.

They know things; they feel things; they are lifelong learners. They are seekers on a never-ending quest.

They have quirky, esoteric points of view. They don’t fit into moulds (although some of them try, for a time).

They are the strange child; the quirky cat lady; the long-haired octogenarian; the quiet friend.

They are often alone but they are rarely – if ever – lonely.

They are the Odd Ducks.

And you would be all the richer for getting to know them…

My sincerest thanks to Ana Daksina, Troubador of Verse and fellow blogger, for the reminder, and for the inspiration…

Patti Moore Wilson/© wednesdayschildca.wordpress.com

Just Another Ordinary Day

My husband and I went to church yesterday.

Nothing out of the ordinary about that. We got there a bit late and

My Daughter Isn’t Ready to be a Grown-Up

My daughter isn’t in any hurry to have a ‘real’ job. She’s not in a hurry to join the workforce; to make a name for herself; to carve out a niche in the world. To be a grownup.

When Do We Lose That Childish Wonder?

I live in a rural area where, until very recently, very few people of colour lived. This was especially the case when I was growing up in the sixties. In my earliest years, I never once laid eyes on a person who was not the same ethnicity as me. My mother tells me a story of taking me to the local swimming pool when I would have been aged 3 or 4. There was a black mother with her child and of course, with my then-blond, straight hair and fair, freckled skin, I was fascinated. After staring at the child – who would have been about the same age as me – in open-mouthed wonder for a long time, I finally asked, in a loud, childish voice, “Mom, why is that boy chocolate?”

Why Can’t We Be Friends?

He is a dyed-in-the-wool conservative with staunch fundamental Baptist values.

Unfinished Business (Best Friend)

Life is full of unfinished business. We don’t always get to know why someone cut us off. Maybe it had nothing at all to do with us. Maybe their lives got complicated. Or busy. Maybe they outgrew us. Maybe they died. Or maybe they truly wished to have nothing more to do with us. Sometimes, we just don’t get to know the answer… sometimes, we just have to live with the void…

Looks Can Be Deceiving

I remember the first time my mother made lasagne, back in the mid seventies.

My Truce with the Neighbourhood Spiders

Country living has so many perks: