SLIPPERS

Dear Friends,

I was sitting in a pair of well worn green suede slippers thinking about my best friend, Ron who once wore them. Shortly after he passed away Wil knocked on our door and gave me some of his clothing. Among them were the slippers he wore when lounging around at home in pajamas and a matching green robe.

Whenever I wear these slippers I always think of him and the friendship we were blessed to have over the years. He truly was a friend who stuck closer than a brother.

When my family and I were moving to California one of our friends gave us Ron & Wil's address and told us to stop by to see them. We arrived in California on a holiday with our son suffering from an asthma attack. We remembered that Wil was a nurse so we decided to stop at their house to see if she knew a doctor to whom we could take our son.

I knocked on their door and Ron answered with a paint brush in his hand. He was painting his living room. I told him our situation and he explained that Wil was working at the hospital and drove us there immediately. After my son received a shot and his asthma attack subsided, at his insistence, we returned to their home for dinner.

During dinner I asked him where we could find a reasonably priced motel. He told me we could stay with them until I found a job and we could rent a house. We were strangers and he took us in. We became brothers in Christ and stood by one another through blessings and hardships.

Looking down at those precious slippers I wrote the following poem in his memory. Ah, what blessed memories they have brought back to me.

SLIPPERS

I walk in another man's shoes,
In slippers - too big to be filled.
Our friendship lasted for years,
Together life's furrows we tilled.

A stranger, I knocked on his door
He answered and asked me inside
A great man noble and true,
He stood loyally close by my side.

Our friendship blossomed with love,
We knew each other so well.
The years sped by, he passed away,
To Heaven he went to dwell.

His wife came and knocked on my door,
Handed me a box of his clothes.
His slippers I wear with thoughts of him,
It soothes all my ills and my woes.

On life's way I've worn many slippers,
But none are quite as neat,
As slippers of a friend who walked with me,
Precious memories adorning my feet!

Don E. Cunningham ©9-18-2007

I have heard that if we have one good lifetime friend we are blessed beyond measure. While I have been blessed with several friends over the years, none have left so many pleasant memories as Ron and Wil.

I hope you have such friends in your life, if you do cherish every moment with them.

Don E. Cunningham, copyright 9-30-2007

HAVE YOU HUGGED A NUN TODAY?

Dear friends,

I am sorry to have been remiss in posting recently. I have had to address some health and computer-printer issues which have been very time consuming. I will try to be more consistent. This week I am posting an article I wrote following my experience of working with nuns in a residential care facility for developmentally disabled. I hope you will enjoy it and hug a nun soon.

"Nuns are mean," Zeke said, "They hit you across the knuckles for no reason at all."

"They really do?" I asked.

"They sure do, shave the hair off their heads, too. That's why they keep their heads covered, don't want anyone to know they're bald. They are so bow-legged they wear habits down to their ankles. They look like penguins."

Even though Baptists and Roman Catholics didn't mix much in upstate New York in the thirties and forties, I had several Catholic friends, including Zeke. He went to parochial school and I attended public school. Our conversation about our teachers that day was my first introduction to those mysterious, stern-faced ladies who shuffled along like penguins, in their long black habits with the white bibs and forehead covering coif headbands.

Over the forty years that followed I didn't give much thought to nuns. Whenever I did, Zeke's words always came to mind. Then, in the early 1980's, my job assignment changed. I became a case manager for a caseload of developmentally disabled children in a residential facility operated by the Daughters of Charity. I would soon see Zeke's "mean penguin ladies with the shaved heads" in action.

On my first visit, I introduced myself. Instead of "stern-faced penguin sisters", I was greeted by dress alike nuns with warm, friendly smiles. I noticed that the hemlines of their habits now fell slightly below the knees. They were not bow-legged!

The small bandana-like coifs allowed locks of hair to protrude onto their foreheads. The guimpe-neck and shoulder covering; veil - fabric face concealer; and wimple - which used to fit under the coif and formed an arch across the forehead and down the sides of the face, were no longer worn. The "penguin ladies" began to take on a new image. Zeke's baldness theory was laid to rest.

Of course, I was the social worker who would be overseeing their programs and authorizing payments for services. It was good politics to be friendly toward me, but how did they treat the children?

Over the months and years that followed I had twenty-four hour a day, seven days a week access to their facility. I occasionally made impromptu visits preceding night and morning shift changes. It gave me the opportunity to not only observe staff interaction with the children, but to sit in while staff relayed client information from shift to shift.

Day after day I observed the nuns interacting with children and staff. I saw them laugh and cry; hug and hold; instruct and correct; encourage and discipline the children. I never saw them hit, scream at or ridicule any of the children. The negative mystique that surrounded them was replaced by a positive impression of their humanity and faith.

Don, the Baptist, has come to know these dear Roman Catholic sisters as friends who have the same concerns for our mutual charges as I do. Our concerns are for the spiritual, physical, and emotional growth of these children. I know their prayers ascend daily for them.

Having come to know several of my sister friends personally has been a rich learning experience. The same faces that were a pool of warm smiles I now see as reflections of their individual personalities. Depending on the circumstances, sometimes they smile, other times they glare. Tears are not unknown to their faces, nor are prayers from their lips.

Some of the sisters are soft spoken while others could hold their own in any business meeting or ladies' powder room. Of course, I can only conjecture what may transpire in a ladies' room. It must be fun though, because whenever a lady leaves the table to go there, the rest follow her.

Another thing I've learned about nuns is that they have last names and families to go with them. They really do have mothers and fathers; sisters and brothers. If that doesn't help make them human I don't know what else would. As we talk about home and families a special gleam comes into their eyes. The same as comes to mine. They face family cares and concerns like we do. When I mention family burdens they promise to pray for my family, as I do for them.

Over the years, on occasion, I hugged these dear nuns. We often broke bread together. I attended farewell parties for nuns who were going to new assignments. One was leaving to work on a Master's Degree in Social Work, Another was reassigned to become the chief accountant for a Daughters of Charities Hospital. She and I had worked very closely and corresponded for several years. A third one with whom I formed a close bond left to coordinate residential services in another facility. On every departure we shared hugs.

When I retired from the Regional Center agency. The nuns gave me a surprise party. Tears, laughs and hugs flowed in abundance. The two nun administrators attended my farewell roast at the agency. I think the fun-filled skit they did, surprised some of my coworkers.

There are some of my Christian brothers who would say I embraced apostasy when I hugged the nuns. Some of their faith would say the nuns did the same when they hugged me. I believe both would be wrong. On many occasions we shared our faith with each other. In their expressed faith in Christ as Savior and Lord they accepted Christ at His word:

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life."[1]

In their daily walk they demonstrated their love for Christ and others. At His last supper with the disciples he told them:

"By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." [2]

Both Paul[3] and Peter[4] encouraged believers to greet one another with a holy kiss or kiss of love. I believe in our present day culture a hug best expresses the meaning of Paul's and Peter's admonitions to believers.

I hope you have the pleasure of knowing some nuns and their huggable humanity.

HAVE YOU HUGGED A NUN TODAY?

[1] John 3:16 NRSV
[2] John 13:35 NRSV
[3] Romans 16:16, I Cor. 16:20, II Cor. 13:12, & I Thess. 5:26 NRSV
[4] I Peter 5:14

Hugs, In Christ's and My Love,

Don E. Cunningham, Author copyright 9-16-07