Attention must be paid

Let us take a moment to reflect on, and honour the passing of the penny.

The Canadian penny is no more.  As of Monday February 4, 2013, the penny is no longer in circulation. Prices will be rounded up or down to the nearest nickel (for as long as we have nickels). Here's hoping we all remember the principles of rounding we learned back in grade 3: when do you round up, and when do you round down?

I will miss the little maple leafed-coin.  It feels particularly poignant because I do not like the new $20 bill, and if that is the way all our money is going to go, it really will be 'funny money' as it's been called in other countries. I mourn our money of yore.  I miss yore.

I'd pay a pretty penny for yore.

Maple Leaf forever

I. AM. CANADIAN!!

My blood and bone are from the soil of another land; my imagination is stirred by the histories of other countries I spent time in before settling down here in the True North Strong and Free, so I don't always think of myself as being Canadian. But seeing the red and white uniforms of Canadian athletes, and the proud Maple Leaf on flags and mittens stirs up a national pride I'm not aware of most of the time. Not to mention the understated but (again) proud display of the opening ceremony in Vancouver which had me wanting to yell out from the front stoop: "Hell yeah, Canada!" And then add for good measure: "eh!"... there is no doubt: I am Canadian.

We remember

Today is Remebrance Day. Veteran's Day. Armistace Day. Whatever you call it, however you refer to it, I hope you make a point today of thinking about it. This is a day for poppies, for bugels and bagpipes, for uniforms and medals, for wreaths and speaches. This is a day for old but brave soldiers, for young but broken warriors, for sad but proud families. This is a day for countries and nations, for peace and freedom, for promises and resolutions. This is a day to talk to your children about what happened before you were even born, the price that was paid by many brave someones many years ago, many miles away.
War is hard for Canadians to understand, because since 1970, there has not been anything resembling a battle on our soil. We have become accustomed to thinking of ourselves as a peace-loving nation, and we tell ourselves that we are globally respected internationally for being keepers of the peace.
What we all too easily forget, is that the reason we have peace within our borders, the reason we live with abundant freedom, the reason we have a proud military heritage, is because 95 years ago young Canadian men (and women) undertook the horrific and frightening task of restoring peace to Europe with no guarantee of victory or even of returning home again, to this country seemingly so far removed from 'the action'. It would have been too easy to pretend that what was happening to people an ocean away had nothing to do with us in the New World. Canada was barely a country yet -- they could have been forgiven for staying home to plant their crops or fill newspapers with their opinions on how Europe should deal with the situation.
Instead, we as a country are able to tell stories of Ypres and Passchendaele, The Somme and Vimy Ridge.
It is all too easy to glorify war. It is not romantic. It is brutal and inhumane and frightening, decimating families and communities and even entire cities. To this day, the scars of World War I and II are visible throughout Europe, and if you will listen, there are still men and women who want to tell you their story.
It is too important to be forgotten. Today we remember.

Precious

Look at that face: see that chubby goodness? Don't you want to pinch him, and coo over him...maybe squeal a little at how cute he is? At the same time, don't you feel like you could sit and absorb him for hours, hoping you'll have the chance to get to know him, who he will be, as a big person? I know myself to be a very fortunate person, to be able to see him every day, to feel his plump solidness sit ergonomically in my arms, to smell his slightly sour I-need-changing smell, to watch his face as he discovers something new, to see his eyes light up when he's pleased...and even hear his baby dinosaur screech when he's not.

Fortunately, for every one of his 365+ days he's been in the prime of health. He sleeps well, is prepared to be content, and shows no fear of life. Somewhere in Toronto tonight, are two families who are anxiously waiting to find out the fate of their own little ones. One was supposed to live because the other one died. One of the baby girls was going to be taken off her respirator and allowed to die. Her parents wanted to donate her tiny little heart to the other baby who apparently has only weeks to live because of a heart defect.

How can this story not break your heart? Both families are saying goodbye to their one and two month-old babies. The 'donor' family has been told their daughter, because of an obscure disease which has affected her brain formation, can expect to experience breathing failure, kidney troubles, and possibly other complications. So they decided to take her off the respirator to allow her to die in her sleep. Doctors prepared the 'recipient' baby for the transplant procedure, but guess what? The plucky little donor baby survived the night, breathing entirely on her own! And instead of rejoicing, the press has been talking about it in terms of a failure, that baby Kaylee is no longer able to be considered an organ donor because she failed to die. Biological anomolies are born and survive all the time. I really hope and pray that this little wonder will live, and live a full and happy life.

And yet. And yet, I really am sad for the other little one and her family, who came so close to having their hopeful dreams realized, and now must brace themselves all over again for having their bleakest dread come to pass. I cannot begin to fathom how hard it must be to see such a tiny little person having to fight for every day of life.

Miracles happen all of the time. This strikes me as a very propitious time of year to be asking for a special miracle or two. I will be praying for these little girls and their families.

The Elect now is.

The Big Event finally took place - the 44th President of the United States was sworn into office. And what an event it was! It was obviously a day that captured the imagination and fired the hope of many people - and not just in the U.S.

I was not excited about him during the campaign. I believed that my political ideology took a different path from his. I still think it does. The fact that he is a black man does not figure with me, but I do see how it is historically significant and of no small account for African Amercians today. Indeed, for 'people of colour' everywhere. (My applogies, but I always feel uncomfortable with those racial labels)

As he spoke his inaugural address, and the day went on, I realized that I too was stirred to hope that he would be able to effect real change in how government operates; that he would break down the wall of partisanship; neutralize party politics; and inspire his fellow Americans with the idea that flourishing as a nation requires a group effort. He seems to believe that anything is possible and that no dream is too big. 

I truly do hope that he is able to blaze new trails to this land of dreams and possibilites he believes in. He spoke of accountability and responsibility and dignity - and those are words that mean something. They imply maturity and wisdom - something that would be unexpected but welcome from a 47 year-old political neophyte. God bless President Obama.

Good link

Forever in blue jeans lately talks about the dearth of anything but left-of-centre news sources. That made me remember No apologies. Here's what they're about:

No Apologies is the broadcast ministry of the ECP (Equipping Christians for the Public Square) Centre. We are the “Moral Sanity Revolution”.
No Apologies promises to advance consistent social conservative thoughts and values through the delivery of high quality, timely, and accurate news and commentary.

Blatchford in Globe and Mail

Just a quick link to an article in the December 8 edition of the Globe and Mail by Christie Blatchford (who also wrote the wonderful book 15 Days).

Harper not out of line for wanting to crush the opposition.