God's Rich
Tapestry (c)
By Michael
Casey
Well, I
forced myself out of bed, I need more sleep but I thought I'd
try and get
up. So here I am post toast and coffee, my normal
breakfast and
I had an idea so this is what you are getting.
What use am I
to you or anybody? Then I checked my readers list
today, over
10 countries reading my rubbish. So, do you all like to
use my
rubbish as toilet paper? Print off a story then pick a stall and
away you go,
and I thought only Donald Trump toilet paper was
popular.
Though he'd probably added my email address to all kinds of
rubbish,
Welsh in Welsh was a strange one I had yesterday. I can
remember
Keith Jackson having an email from himself, 30 years ago
was it? That
was before technology got really clever. So, what I get
now is even
more annoying, and gets deleted unread. Hello to KJ by
the way, he
must be 10 years older than me.
So where does
this take us? Well, we all have our place in the
pecking order,
obviously I was locked up in the computer room for
21
years at Stats, escaping and then marrying finally. Every person
has their
place their worth, even if you didn't realise it till afterwards.
Why is it so
quiet, where is that annoying person, Michael, I'll say it
before Mark
H, says it and laughs at his own joke.
Where is Skid
and his Marks, and so on and so forth. We all have a
value, even
if we don't know it at the time. What use am I, I am an
Old
Woman, is a story of mine, I can see Mark H, now pulling a
face
as, he says yes that's Michael.
I hope I've
surprized people from that old crew from long ago, but
never
forgotten. A collection of people make a whole, any group of
people are a
jigsaw, a mosaic, a tapestry. When the gossip goes, there
is a gap,
gossip is the chattering cement that holds a society
together, a
phrase from The Butcher, The Baker and The Undertaker.
Look around
your street, your family, you friends, your team,
whatever
game you play, or your knitting circle, or your prayer
group, even
if the bar is your place of worship. Everybody has a
task, even if
it is to lay out the chairs, or drop and bolt in the extra
place at the
end of the pew in a church. Yes, churches used to be that
full, at
Saint Patrick's we use to have extra drop seats down the
middle, I
know because I got them ready while my brother always
got the altar
servers list, which never changed.
Then there is
the guy who miraculously survived something over
the road at
Dudley Rd hospital, who runs the piety stall, little wonder
There are the
unsung heroes, the cleaners in any place, I know as I
always used
to work the late shift, so they were my friends. The
things they
know, and the things they discover, such as half full
coffee
cups in a bin. I could mention other discoveries in the middle
of the night,
but I'll leave the dead rest.
The sandwich
lady you fear, as she always needs a man to come and
fix a shelf
for her, you'd starve without her. The crossings lady who
saved your
life by knocking you over with her pole. Even the barber
whose
"something for the weekend, sir?" also saved your life, and
health
in many many ways, many many times. But not as many as
you boasted
about. And when the barbers was closed, you took a
chance,
so Chancy Gardinier was your first child, named after the
unexpected
film and thereafterwards, no barber's something for the
weekend
included.
Look around in
any life, in any story, or History itself, which is all our lives. What do you
see, this led to that, or just unknowingly. You married the cleaner, but she
was really a rich heiress, I married a cleaner too, but she did have a degree,
and the rest is History. Our lives, our loves, what we like, what we love, all
of this is a tapestry. An accident, either of nature or of life itself, can
lead to many many things. Your dad nearly died, you visited him for 3 straight
years in the seniors home, and you married his nurse. Whatever happens in life,
it forms us, it directs us, like a mudslide down a hill, it can be dangerous,
it can be exciting, but it changes our internal landscape. So, look around and connect, little chats
here, little looks and glances, read, watch, observe. Then your life will be
heard, you’ll be the colourful bit in the tapestry, you might even be the
centrepiece. You don’t need to battle in Hastings, nor an arrow in your eye,
just look up, look around, look to the sky. Look at the birds flying, look at the
patterns they weave in the sky. Then try to be a bird, and make your life
heard, for a life is more than a twitter.
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