Bless all the Angels and the Saints

I picked up a Christmas cracker insert this morning, amongst other things left from a family do yesterday. It read,
‘You can be what ever type of person you choose to be. Your habits, your behaviours, your responses, are all your choice.’

For a Christmas Cracker, that’s deep. Then, in the same cracker:
‘Q: What is the best way to catch a squirrel?
A: Climb up a tree and act like a nut.’

In a way, I felt both were somehow meant for me. But you get that.

I choose to accept that I’m not perfect. Mostly, I do my best but sometimes I stuff up.

Thank you to the angels who manage to fill the gaps I leave.

My daughter was asking me the same question over and over on the train the other day. I’d zoned out – the guy in the seat in front of us turned around and patiently answered her question. Thank you for giving my child the time she deserved and for reminding me that my mind shouldn’t have been off duty in the first place.

When my son’s fiancée wraps her arms around my son and ruffles his hair or when she stands by his side through tough times, I know we are blessed.

When I see people sharing peace, joy and love (in it’s true, non-greeting-card sense) and bringing hope in ways that range from saying a positive word (and consciously refusing to use a negative one), to actively standing up to an injustice as it occurs. Little steps and big steps are all steps.

When I see real, pure happiness. I just got back from Carols by Candlelight at my parents’ nursing home. The staff there give 120% of themselves - in their time and in the way they give joy and the way they can identify and fill all those gaps. And in a nursing home, there are a lot of gaps to fill.

Anyway enough soapboxing. Hmmm could that be classed as a sport? My son came by after work today and saw the Christmas Cracker insert on my kitchen bench. He read it, looked at me, eyes narrowed, little smile. He said, ‘Was this left for me?’

Anyway, I’m off to catch a squirrel.