No avian child to take to the bathroom and to cook for means that my last hours of being 'Home Alone' are spent reading papers and it is the NY Times that I am reading this morning.
Apart from the monster storm called Jonas, which has started dumping extraordinarily large aamounts of wet snow all over the Eastern Seaboard, there is an article about a nun's food shopping trip to the Bronx.
The nun in question, Sister Elizabeth Ann, is aged 76 and for thirty five years has, as she calls it, been a beggar, the lowest of the low on a totem pole. Her job as a beggar is to ask, aka beg, several companies for food with which to feed the elderly inhabitants of the Queen of Peace Residence in Queens.
The story is quite remarkable and I urge you all to look for it and to read it and to think.. yes.. think Dear Readers about your food shopping and your cooking.
Have you elderly friends, do you know someone who has less money than yourself and would appreciate a home cooked meal, could or would you split that fat caserole or stew into half and give it to a friend who is not well at the moment?
When where we lived was, shall I say, less cosmopolitan and people actually lived in these flats and houses, instead of them the majority being empty because a foreign buyer has bought it for, shall I say an 'investment', not only did I know everyone in our house but I knew my neighbours and people further up the street, in fact, the neighbour-hood WAS much friendlier.
Robert and Inge, who were both elderly, lived at the top of my house, above me were Peregrine and Yvonne and neither Yvonne or I would have dreamt of going shopping without telephoning Inge to ask if she wanted something and if we made a caserole, some of it always made its' way up the stairs to Flat 4.
No, it wasn't just a one way street, Inge used to make the most divine confectionery.. think Harrods or Fortnums quality.. and she would give us occasionally a beautifully wrapped box of something utterly fabulous.
Likewise with Mrs. G who lived at number 38. She, for years, was an unofficial Grand-Mother to the children who lived locally, she was also an amazing pianist with a full sized, very grand, grand piano in her home, lots of the kids learnt how to play piano with Mrs. G.. "money for teaching children how to do something I love! Whatever next.. get away with you, my dear" was her response if a parent wanted to pay her.
And when she became older it was decided, with her consent, that several of us would 'keep' an eye on her and then one 'child', a writer, whose family had gone to live abroad when their father retired, moved in with Mrs. G.
No rent and no bills were paid but it enable the old lady to be independent but 'cared' for until the last day of her life. Her family, with whom she refused to live up in the wilds of Norfolk, were so grateful and of course they knew the 'child' that lived with their mother, they had grown up with her living three doors away.
And they were more than in agreement with the terms of their mother's will, which was a substancial gift of money to the 'child', for they doubled it and gave her the beautiful watch that Mrs. G had worn every day.
Generosity of spirit.. think upon that phrase if you will, please. Be kind in your dealings with those less fortunate than yourself, give things away that you don't need or want any longer, and think about what you don't want.
Bedding.. instead of taking it to a charity shop who will take it but put it into a rag bag, there are very few Charities that will take bedding.. if you have a spare duvet or blanket, check to make sure that it is clean and give it directly to a homeless person.
On the Kings Road, Chelsea, there are a small group of homeless men who sleep in the same place every night and I was going through the secret stash place, I came across bedding that had been my mothers.. aka Constance.
It was still in the blue bag from the laundry, I whistled up WW and took the whole lot down to the guys. I stood infront of them and explained that I was a local resident, what it was and where it had come from and asked them "would you like it".. they were a bit stunned and then the youngest said "bless you lass, we'd love it, thank you".
Two years later, it makes me smile to see her distinctive duvet neatly folded up and placed in a huge plastic bag, I pass it and the guys probably three times a week. Charity comes in many different forms and begins at home and then should reach outwards.. would a dear friend like to watch a dvd that you've got sitting in a pile somewhere.. how about children's book or clothes that are no longer required.
Pass it along, like all the companies and the guys who donate food to this nun in New York, a bit of kindness, in whichever form you choose to give it, will help to make someone else's life better.
And now I must go to collect 'our' little girl from jail.. wish me luck folks, 'cos we all know that I am going to get an earful!
GeeGee Parrot's mum.
January 23rd, 2016.
Apart from the monster storm called Jonas, which has started dumping extraordinarily large aamounts of wet snow all over the Eastern Seaboard, there is an article about a nun's food shopping trip to the Bronx.
The nun in question, Sister Elizabeth Ann, is aged 76 and for thirty five years has, as she calls it, been a beggar, the lowest of the low on a totem pole. Her job as a beggar is to ask, aka beg, several companies for food with which to feed the elderly inhabitants of the Queen of Peace Residence in Queens.
The story is quite remarkable and I urge you all to look for it and to read it and to think.. yes.. think Dear Readers about your food shopping and your cooking.
Have you elderly friends, do you know someone who has less money than yourself and would appreciate a home cooked meal, could or would you split that fat caserole or stew into half and give it to a friend who is not well at the moment?
When where we lived was, shall I say, less cosmopolitan and people actually lived in these flats and houses, instead of them the majority being empty because a foreign buyer has bought it for, shall I say an 'investment', not only did I know everyone in our house but I knew my neighbours and people further up the street, in fact, the neighbour-hood WAS much friendlier.
Robert and Inge, who were both elderly, lived at the top of my house, above me were Peregrine and Yvonne and neither Yvonne or I would have dreamt of going shopping without telephoning Inge to ask if she wanted something and if we made a caserole, some of it always made its' way up the stairs to Flat 4.
No, it wasn't just a one way street, Inge used to make the most divine confectionery.. think Harrods or Fortnums quality.. and she would give us occasionally a beautifully wrapped box of something utterly fabulous.
Likewise with Mrs. G who lived at number 38. She, for years, was an unofficial Grand-Mother to the children who lived locally, she was also an amazing pianist with a full sized, very grand, grand piano in her home, lots of the kids learnt how to play piano with Mrs. G.. "money for teaching children how to do something I love! Whatever next.. get away with you, my dear" was her response if a parent wanted to pay her.
And when she became older it was decided, with her consent, that several of us would 'keep' an eye on her and then one 'child', a writer, whose family had gone to live abroad when their father retired, moved in with Mrs. G.
No rent and no bills were paid but it enable the old lady to be independent but 'cared' for until the last day of her life. Her family, with whom she refused to live up in the wilds of Norfolk, were so grateful and of course they knew the 'child' that lived with their mother, they had grown up with her living three doors away.
And they were more than in agreement with the terms of their mother's will, which was a substancial gift of money to the 'child', for they doubled it and gave her the beautiful watch that Mrs. G had worn every day.
Generosity of spirit.. think upon that phrase if you will, please. Be kind in your dealings with those less fortunate than yourself, give things away that you don't need or want any longer, and think about what you don't want.
Bedding.. instead of taking it to a charity shop who will take it but put it into a rag bag, there are very few Charities that will take bedding.. if you have a spare duvet or blanket, check to make sure that it is clean and give it directly to a homeless person.
On the Kings Road, Chelsea, there are a small group of homeless men who sleep in the same place every night and I was going through the secret stash place, I came across bedding that had been my mothers.. aka Constance.
It was still in the blue bag from the laundry, I whistled up WW and took the whole lot down to the guys. I stood infront of them and explained that I was a local resident, what it was and where it had come from and asked them "would you like it".. they were a bit stunned and then the youngest said "bless you lass, we'd love it, thank you".
Two years later, it makes me smile to see her distinctive duvet neatly folded up and placed in a huge plastic bag, I pass it and the guys probably three times a week. Charity comes in many different forms and begins at home and then should reach outwards.. would a dear friend like to watch a dvd that you've got sitting in a pile somewhere.. how about children's book or clothes that are no longer required.
Pass it along, like all the companies and the guys who donate food to this nun in New York, a bit of kindness, in whichever form you choose to give it, will help to make someone else's life better.
And now I must go to collect 'our' little girl from jail.. wish me luck folks, 'cos we all know that I am going to get an earful!
GeeGee Parrot's mum.
January 23rd, 2016.
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