The surf rolled in and back out leaving a precious gift in its frothy waves. Baby Elias fished an antique rum bottle from the water. There was a letter inside. "Help me", it said, "I'm all alone." Everyone feels alone, it's part of the human condition. But the truth is we're all connected. Our sorrows connect us. Our dreams connect us. We are all the same. But we can all use a little advice from time to time...

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Questions from a Grandson

Why is the sky blue?

The sky is blue because of the water droplets present in the air. Those droplets act as tiny prisms. The light shines in one side, it is bent, and when it shines out the other side it is broken into colors. The color that happens to be present in the sky is blue.
Do you have a trampoline?

Sorry no.


Do you know where chocolate comes from?

Chocolate comes from a bean grown in a pod on a cocao tree. The beans must be fermented, dried, cleaned and roasted. They are then ground into powder. That powder is mixed and made into a liquid. The liquid is then powered again or made into chocolate. It is very bitter at that stage which is the reason they add
sugar. It does not grow here that I know of, but it grows in Mexico. Mexican chocolate is very good. It also  in Central America. It needs the tropical heat to grow.


Do you know what is in cocoa beans?

 There is a substance called theobromine that is can lower blood pressure and also work on seratonan which is a chemical in the brain that keeps you awake during the day. There is another chemical, present in the body that helps you sleep at night--that is called melatonin.

Theobromine is not good for dogs that is the reason they should not have chocolate.


Do you have a cocoa tree?

No again. We aare in the tropics, but so far I have not seen a cocoa tree--we have plenty of mangos though.

Love,
Grandma

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Is There a Santa Claus?

"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
"Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
"Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.'
"Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?


This letter, written in 1897 by Virginia O'Hanlon, and the response by Francis Pharcellus Church, editor of THE SUN, has become history’s most reprinted newspaper editorial.


Here at home we are debating the same question. I didn’t want to lie to my kids, so when they were wee ones, I told them Santa was pretend—I got them, though, the year the carrots we put out for the reindeer had disappeared come morning.
Now DD has her own wee one, he is almost two now, and she has decided that Santa is a belief much like the success philosophy we have been expounding. And so we wonder, how does one convey a belief in a thing when the thing is fiction.

But is it? Santa is a concept, a belief, a figment. See what it does for people. We wish strangers a Merry Christmas when we normally wouldn’t say anything to them at all. Perhaps Santa is a metaphor that gives us permission for being nice, to wear silly sweaters and to drink eggnog. We read The Night Before Christmas story over and over, and every time we do we feel happy.

“A Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.”
Maybe there is a Santa, a Father Christmas, a spirit that makes glad the hearts of children and adults.  Maybe he doesn’t live at the North Pole, but he lives on, passed from heart to heart. Without the spirit of Santa Claus we might give a present, as with birthdays, but not with the lavishness that Christmas brings. You have to fill all the stockings and then turn to the tree and dump our bag of gifts under it.
What was your favorite Christmas?
My step dad said that as a family with five boys they didn’t have much money for presents, but one year the fire department had painted bicycles and tricycles and restored toys and come Christmas their family found more presents under the tree than they had ever seen in their lives. That made a believer out of him.
A believer in what? In magic? Dreams? That wishing will make it so? That whatever we put our attention on will come to pass? What about the genie that is our own subconscious what works to bring to us what we focus on. The Secret? The Secret? What is the secret? The spirit of peace and good will to all?
“No Santa Claus!” writes Church. “Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.”