... and perhaps buy a puppy.
The first email I read this morning included this picture. I think I'm going to blow it up and stick it on the refrigerator. It makes me smile! The dog is perfectly at peace while little Picasso does his thing. At first I thought the boy was just doodling, but if you look close you'll see he's actually re-creating the chair fabric. Look at the flowers and the lines. I think one day we'll be seeing this kid's work in a museum. Or maybe at some fashion institute. Look at that PJ combo. I love it. It makes me want to add a white dog, a little boy and some markers to my life!
Next I went on to read my favorite blogs. Look what's new over at http://meatpieandluna.blogspot.com/. Not long ago Swallowtail wrote a post that had "new puppy-itis" all over it. I could tell it was only a matter of time. What do you think is being said between the Alpha dog and the new kid on the block? I'm betting Luna is explaining the house rules. Little Blackie with the purple bow is paying close attention. Oh my god, is there anything sweeter than a new puppy? Well, yeh, I guess there are a few, but puppies are near the top of the list of happiness creators.
Then on to Terri's blog, Honor Yourself. Terri wrote about a story she heard from a S. African woman who is working with rape victims. It's not a pretty story, but one worth reading. I was reminded of the scar on my face.
When I was about 18 months old I contracted impetigo. Apparently not uncommon in little kids, google says this about the skin infection - a single or possibly many blisters filled with pus; easy to pop and -- when broken --leave a reddish raw-looking base. Nice! The medicine of choice back in the mid-1950's, and maybe still, was some kind of purple stuff. Not easy to hide when smeared all over one's face. As family lore goes on a trip across country I announced in each restaurant we entered that I had impetigo. Maybe that's been exaggerated over the years, because if I was that young, I doubt I could talk or say words like impetigo. I must have still been at the age when I knew I was a queen (per Dani's blog) and felt the need to announce my entrance.
The skin condition cleared up but left a small scar on my face. I say small but for most of my life it was the first thing I saw when I looked in the mirror. It was a flaw, that I was sure walked into every room before I did. I learned to live with it, but never liked it.
One day while in conversation with a friend the scar came up. I was in one of my real depressed times so finding fault with my body, my face, my hair, or my personality was easy for me to do. My friend looked at me and said the spot on my face was a perfect heart. Huh? Just like that with a kind a word the spot that had plagued me was changed to a thing of beauty. If I ever decide to be a mime I'll paint my face white and color the heart red.
After reading Terri's post, I'm reminded of the gift of kind words and people who speak love by telling a truth we can't always see for ourselves. Does it matter, Terri asks, that she holds a woman she's never met, never even seen but cares about nonetheless in her heart as she goes through her day? My answer is yes. For I believe it is in the loving embrace of women around the world that our sisters will be healed.
There is really no connection between these thoughts except that they will be with me all day as I do my ho-hum chores. An artistic child, a small black puppy and a heart-shaped blemish. Hmmm, maybe there is a connection. It all goes back to love, doesn't it?
Wishing for you a day filled with the things that make you feel loved,
P.S. As Paul Harvey might say here's the rest of the story .... As I've grown older I have developed age spots. One day when I was inspecting my chin for stray hairs I discovered little brown circles at the base of my cheek. What might have sent me over the edge a few years ago made me laugh out loud. It was not hard to see that the circles were put together in such a way as to form a perfect Mickey Mouse head. The last time I went to the dermatologist he offered, for a nice little sum, to remove all my moles, bumps and spots. Spots he said pointing at my face. Once I pointed out to him that I kind of liked having Mickey Mouse on my face he said he had to agree. A wise man once told me "it's all in your perspective." I would have to agree!
P.S.S. Please don't think I put my impetigo scar on the same par as the disfigured woman in S. Africa. It was the story of Terri's friend telling the woman how beautiful she is regardless of the scars that drew out my memory.