Joy to the World


Image result for Christmas war images

Winter’s glory dampened with curses of slippery streets

Santa vs Jesus; pushing to spend & buy

Gobbling up those delicious Christmas treats

who should we to turn to for wishes of hope and joy?

~

Good tidings & reflection of the year gone past

The world around us scurries from war torn streets

They’ve nowhere to hide, nor can they run fast

Will Santa help those who do not have a tree?

~

My feet warmed by the heat of my furnace oil

Cold shivers not from frost but from images of loss

As my heart trembles at the world’s turmoil

Which cannot be fixed by our Santa Claus?

~

The season is such that love gives us hope

 Though our world not perfect, we as people we cope

with all he madness and the joy this season does bring

Our hoped wrapped in colorful packages as

 Joy to the World we sing.

Written by Corrina Leblond Dec 21, 2016

Images by : http://soulation.org/jonalynblog/2013/12/the-wars-on-christmas.html

HAPPINESS



Sunshine

Punches sadness

floating on clouds weightless

delighted happiness will follow

I shine

 

Chocolate

Sweetened with love

Closing my eyes drifting

With ecstasy deserved, I smile

Melting

 

 

 

 

Written by : Corrina Leblond

20th century cinquain

Today I wondered if God was listening!


(Trigger warning & strong language, yet a story I had to tell)

Just one more trip to the grocery store and my busy day would soon be met with some justified relaxation, ahhhh. Since midday today I was on a life high having recieved some great news. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could relax and sink into this new found happiness. The only thing left on my mind after work was celebrating; should it be a white wine or something special?

As I hurried through the mall parking lot a cab stopped by the mall entrance. I noticed the passenger, a mid thirty something female who almost tripped out of the cab’s back door when exiting.  She stood up after the near mishap adjusting her clothes over her slim figure. I thought she obviously must be in a much bigger hurry than I was as she quickly ran into the mall disappearing from my view. For one second my busy mind paused as I admired how tall and thin she was with her chic haircut that only a few people would ever dare to sport or look good in. Damn skinny people, my inner voiced chimed; they can wear or look good in anything!

My mind shifted back to my errands and the pizza order I had placed that would surely be cold as it was now more than an hour since leaving work late on another Friday night. It was my fault the family had become dependent on these Friday night takeouts, I take full responsibility for doing it one too many times as I will NOT cook on a Friday, they are all big now and can pitch in, or so I tell myself. In another alternate reality I fantasize about coming home to an amazing cooked meal with my family’s painted happy faces ushering me to the table after a hard day’s work, swooning over me as they take my bag and rush to caring for my every need (ha and then I wake up). Even when I say this in my head it sounds silly and preposterous! Meal times in my house seem to have become one of those “what’s mom cooking/bringing home” kind of homes, despite my proud feminist views.

I entered the mall and only seconds later my busy mind tuned into the yelling and screaming just ahead of me. As I was jilted from my own thoughts I noticed the screams were coming from the cab passenger who was screaming and walking in a fast pace towards where I had just entered the store.

She screamed “I told you, I fucking , fucking told you NOT TO MOVE, what the FUCK is wrong with YOU, why CANT you ever listen to a FUCKING word I say!!”

A notable gasp and cry came from the husky 10-12 year old boy as she wailed on him screaming just inches away from his face crouching over him, eyes bulging with a clear firm grasp of his shoulders. Her next words were inaudible to me as I think I went into shock, her words became a blur. For sure a threat of “if you do….then I will ….slap, hit” She continued on for a few more painful seconds.  I couldn’t help but feel like I was frozen in time as the air became so thick it was hard to move forward. She screamed a few more F bombs and her last words clear and cutting as she turned back to him yelling “DONT MOVE and stop your crying you FUCKING PUSSY!

Oh my dear God!!! What ???? I could not believe my ears; I’m now certain I was in shock. All I could think of was this poor, poor boy and ask myself who the hell is that person?

I found myself praying for him immediately asking God to come to his side and comfort him. As part of my religious upbringing praying still came easy as I also begged for angel Gabriel to come and cradle this child from this pain. I prayed that she wasn’t his mom, maybe an older sister, a crack head stepmother, anyone but please don’t let this be his everyday life! I’ve never ever heard anyone speak that abusive to a child before. I was stunned needless to say. I’ve heard a lot of verbal abuse in my time but never this much or with such contempt and language towards a child, and certainly never in a grocery store.

I noticed others in the store who had lined up for service had that same frozen look of disbelief on their face. I looked at the child as tears streamed down his cheeks and I wished I could just hug him. I stopped for just a second long enough to hear people around me beginning to rumble about how disrespectful she was, but no one moved towards the child. The cab passenger was just a couple of aisles ahead of me grabbing random items off the shelves, popping her head in and out not really even looking over. I wondered what anyone could even legally do in this situation, I was lost for what to do.

With my heart wrenching I could feel his sadness, my heart was breaking. I continued walking to the deli and paid for my pizza as the pain in my heart grew. I grabbed my pizza box and decided I would go speak to him, give him a word of encouragement, something, anything!

I headed back to where the child was determined to get his number, maybe just a name so I could call the police or child services.

To my sadness he was gone when I came back; I don’t know what happened to him or where he could be. Out of the corner of my eye I seen the cab passenger but this time she was alone, I wondered where the child was.

I left the mall with a huge lump in my throat and a nagging feeling that I should’ve done more. I drove home, my cold pizza beside me absent of the joy I had felt earlier. Tears filled my eyes as pain rushed into my heart thinking about what a shitty day that boy was having, maybe a shitty life, no one deserves that treatment!

I again said a prayer to God. I asked for help for the child and asked God to help him through his journey as I know I was comforted many times in my life. Still this wasn’t enough to ease my guilt; I slowed my car I wanted to turn back. I know somehow this was a bit crazy of me, or was it? I just wanted to DO SOMETHING. But again I decided to go home and drop off the food for my family.

When I got in the door I spilled out my story to anyone who would listen and asked my partner to come to the mall with me so we can find the boy. He was on the phone and half heartedly listened as my kids grabbed the food and the dog hopped with excitement hoping for just one bite of fallen pepperoni. Yes I was back in my life now, but part of me was still with the boy.

My 13 year old pulled out three math tests he was prouder than proud of, his face beamed with excitement as he showed me three A’s, one that was an A+, first one of the year. This was a special moment, I wished I could’ve been happier and more involved, but I was still with the boy.

My mind consumed with guilt and images of the child in the mall. I still didn’t know what to do, even if I went back to the mall he may be gone or sitting with her. What COULD I really do? What should I have done? Why didn’t I do anything?

I felt so sad, I tried to smile at my son and give him the attention he deserved but I could not get that image of the pain and embarrassment on that other child’s face out of my mind. His sadness haunted me as I reflected on my own pain as a child. He will grow up one day, it will get better, I comforted myself.

I knew that no matter what he wasn’t really truly alone, none of us are. God is with him, even if he didn’t have God as part of his upbringing as I did.

My younger son hugged me and shared with me what he does when he feels like I was feeling, “mom you know what I do when I wish I couldn’t done something and didn’t, I ask God to forgive me”. His words touched and surprised me, wow!

I knew immediately that was the answer. “Give it to God” a friend once told me. I humbly asked for forgiveness and hoped this would be enough.

My spiritual journey doesn’t always involve a church, but it always has involved God, a side effect of being raised in a religious home.

There were no celebrations that night but refreshed awareness that for every joy we have someone somewhere is suffering, too real a reminder, I counted my blessings.

I am blessed for so many reasons, and blessed most of all to be so lucky to have such a wise child who offered me the comfort that I only now truly appreciate as an adult, Gods comfort.

Written by: Corrina Leblond

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