Little Free Pet Pantries

The Humane Society of Columbiana County and volunteers recently launched a "blessing box" dedicated to provision of items for animals. The project is called "St. Francis Blessing Box."

A bit about St. Francis...Saint Francis of Assisi is the patron saint of animals and the environment. He even preached to animals, believing all creation to be brothers and sisters.

Appropriate that this group would name its project in his honor.

Until four years ago, I thought folks were kind of silly about their animals. We had a cat. Cookie. He is alright. It wasn't until Baron, a 100-pound German Shepherd, came into our home that I "got it." For so many people, living with a companion animal dramatically improves quality of life. I think about this when I drive past the rail-thin gentleman who panhandles at the intersection nearest my office. He pushes a shopping cart of belongings, among them, two small, brown tabby cats. According to Pets of the Homeless, 5-10% of homeless people have cats or dogs, that percentage rising to 24% in some places. I think about the comfort Baron brings me from the comfort of a home and plenty. I imagine for many poor and homeless folks, that comfort is even more valuable. 

Helping pets of poor and homeless folks helps the folks themselves. Sometimes maybe more than food, and I am grateful to those, like the Humane Society of Columbiana County in Salem, Ohio, who "get it."

In addition to his care for creatures, St. Francis took a vow of poverty, living among and ministering to the poor and sick. He famously said, "Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary use words." Maybe he should be the patron saint of pantries, too. 

Read more about St. Francis Blessing Box here:

http://www.salemnews.net/news/local-news/2017/09/humane-society-adds-blessing-box/

Feeding the Soul: On Being with Krista Tippett

Some learning can only occur in relationship, so I go to church. For me, it's good for me. Like broccoli. I prefer solitary learning, which is interesting considering the LFP is a massive group work. I particularly prefer solitary spiritual practice. I read religious texts. I run by myself. I spend time in nature alone, often while running. And for the past two years, I listen to the weekly podcast "On Being with Krista Tippett." The iTunes Description of On Being is as follows: 

On Being takes up the big questions of meaning with scientists and theologians, artists and teachers — some you know and others you'll love to meet. Each week a new discovery about the immensity of our lives.

It's accurate, and I don't really know who I am without it (so I should probably contribute). What prompted this post, though, was the August 31, 2017, episode, a rebroadcast of Krista Tippett's 2008 conversation with the late Irish poet, John O'Donohue. The episode, entitled "The Inner Landscape of Beauty," concluded with his recitation of "Bennacht," included in To Bless the Space Between: A Book of Blessings.

On the day when
The weight deadens
On your shoulders
And you stumble,
May the clay dance
To balance you.

And when your eyes
Freeze behind
The grey window
And the ghost of loss
Gets into you,
May a flock of colours,
Indigo, red, green
And azure blue,
Come to awaken in you
A meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
In the currach of thought
And a stain of ocean
Blackens beneath you,
May there come across the waters
A path of yellow moonlight
To bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
Wind work these words
Of love around you,
An invisible cloak
To mind your life.

Post- Hurricane Harvey, while the Pacific Northwest burns, Hurricane Irma (the largest Atlantic hurricane on record) careens toward Florida, Mexico experiences its largest earthquake in a century, and on and on, I needed both this reminder of nature's gentleness and this blessing. I think we all do. 

With friends like that, who needs strangers?

Yesterday a good friend of mine posted a video to Facebook that sparked lively debate between us. A woman on foot tries to escape the camera. She approaches a car, a Mini Cooper, as if it is hers, then walks away from the car toward a fast food restaurant drive-thru window, where she seeks help from the attendant.  She does not shield her face. A man films her. You do not see him, but his is the most audible presence. Over and over he questions the woman, accuses her. The description of the video reads, “Woman posing as homeless gets exposed.”

People react to panhandling according to their frames. I drive past someone panhandling and am reminded to practice gratitude for what I have. I choose trust and grace, not least because it makes me feel good. Others frame differently.

This post isn’t really about panhandling, though. Or about mine and my friend’s lively debate. It’s about what she said near the end of the thread, “Thanks for not deleting me over this.”

“Really?” I said.

Social media makes it easy to build walls around ourselves. Our opinions, even if well-informed, just echo. Folks who panhandle have no walls; they are figuratively “exposed” to the comment, critique, judgment of everyone who drives past them. No option to block, unfriend, delete the “panhandler." For that reason alone the activity adds value to our individual and collective moral conscience. We surely cheat ourselves when we block, unfriend, delete to avoid respectful, difficult conversations and thinking.

I said, "Really?!!" like it was so hard to believe when I've done it myself.