This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
IT'S WHAT YOU SCATTER I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes... I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me. 'Hello Barry, how are you today?' 'H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure do look good' 'They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?' 'Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time.' 'Good. Anything I can help you with?' 'No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas.' 'Would you like to take some home?' asked Mr. Miller. 'No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with.' 'Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?' 'All I got's my prize marble here.' 'Is that right? Let me see it', said Miller. 'Here 'tis. She's a dandy.' 'I can see that. Hmm mmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?' the store owner asked. 'Not zackley but almost.' 'Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble'. Mr. Miller told the boy. 'Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller.' Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, 'There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store.' I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado , but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles. Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one; each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes. Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket. 'Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they came to pay their debt.' 'We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world,' she confided, 'but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho ...' With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shiny red marbles. The Moral: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles ~ A fresh pot of coffee you didn't make yourself... An unexpected phone call from an old friend.... Green stoplights on your way to and from work.... The fastest line at the grocery store.... A good sing-along song on the radio.. Your keys found right where you left them. IF THIS DIDN’T BRING A FEW TEARS, IT MEANS YOU ARE IN WAY TOO MUCH OF A HURRY TO EVEN NOTICE THE ORDINARY MIRACLES WHEN THEY OCCUR. SLOW DOWN… IT'S NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT YOU SCATTER THAT TELLS WHAT KIND OF LIFE YOU HAVE LIVED!
Boys | Change | Comfort | Conversation | Day | Display | Gentleness | Good | Hurry | Knowing | Life | Life | Light | Man | Means | Men | Mind | Miracles | Right | Smile | Story | Time | Wealth | Will | Words | Friends | Old |
The Trial By Existence - Even the bravest that are slain Shall not dissemble their surprise On waking to find valor reign, Even as on earth, in paradise; And where they sought without the sword Wide fields of asphodel fore’er, To find that the utmost reward Of daring should be still to dare. The light of heaven falls whole and white And is not shattered into dyes, The light for ever is morning light; The hills are verdured pasture-wise; The angel hosts with freshness go, And seek with laughter what to brave;— And binding all is the hushed snow Of the far-distant breaking wave. And from a cliff-top is proclaimed The gathering of the souls for birth, The trial by existence named, The obscuration upon earth. And the slant spirits trooping by In streams and cross- and counter-streams Can but give ear to that sweet cry For its suggestion of what dreams! And the more loitering are turned To view once more the sacrifice Of those who for some good discerned Will gladly give up paradise. And a white shimmering concourse rolls Toward the throne to witness there The speeding of devoted souls Which God makes his especial care. And none are taken but who will, Having first heard the life read out That opens earthward, good and ill, Beyond the shadow of a doubt; And very beautifully God limns, And tenderly, life’s little dream, But naught extenuates or dims, Setting the thing that is supreme. Nor is there wanting in the press Some spirit to stand simply forth, Heroic in its nakedness, Against the uttermost of earth. The tale of earth’s unhonored things Sounds nobler there than ’neath the sun; And the mind whirls and the heart sings, And a shout greets the daring one. But always God speaks at the end: ’One thought in agony of strife The bravest would have by for friend, The memory that he chose the life; But the pure fate to which you go Admits no memory of choice, Or the woe were not earthly woe To which you give the assenting voice.’ And so the choice must be again, But the last choice is still the same; And the awe passes wonder then, And a hush falls for all acclaim. And God has taken a flower of gold And broken it, and used therefrom The mystic link to bind and hold Spirit to matter till death come. ‘Tis of the essence of life here, Though we choose greatly, still to lack The lasting memory at all clear, That life has for us on the wrack Nothing but what we somehow chose; Thus are we wholly stripped of pride In the pain that has but one close, Bearing it crushed and mystified.
Agony | Awe | Choice | Daring | Death | Existence | Fate | God | Gold | Good | Heart | Heaven | Laughter | Life | Life | Light | Little | Memory | Mind | Pain | Pride | Reward | Sacrifice | Spirit | Thought | Valor | Valor | Witness | Woe | Wonder | Fate | Trial | God | Thought |
Ron and Mary Hulnick, formally H. Ronald Hulnick and
eight keys or ways you can build a more intimate and mutually fulfilling heart-to-heart relationship: 1. Seek to become a really good heart-centered listener. 2. Share gratitude and heartfelt appreciation. 3. Small kindnesses reap large dividends. 4. Keep your agreements. 5. Take responsibility for your own upset. 6. Celebrate your own and each other's successes. 7. Resist the urge to complain about your partner with your friends or family. 8. Develop and maintain supportive and mutually agreed upon ground rules and guidelines. And now, here are an additional four keys we've found that work wonders: 1. Be willing to give up personal space. 2. Prize your partner. 3. Touch with love. 4. Your job is not to fix, change, manipulate, or control your partner -- your job is to love them.
Control | Good | Gratitude | Love | Responsibility | Work | Friends |
Samuel ha-Nagid, born Samuel ibn Naghrela or Naghrillah
Spirit splits in its asking, and soul in its wanted is balked; and the body, fattened, is vital and full— its precious being uneasy . . . But the modest man walks on the earth with his thought drawn toward sky. What good is the pulse of man’s flesh and its favors when the mind is in pain?
Earth | Fear | God | Good | Light | Man | Men | Mind | Sense | Soul | Thinking | Will | Friendship | God | Friends |
Samuel ha-Nagid, born Samuel ibn Naghrela or Naghrillah
Lo, I return with my spirit in torment May God have mercy upon you, my brother! A day ago I buried you But even now my complaint is bitter. Greetings I bring you! Do you not hear When I call to you with all my might? Answer me: Do you not recognize The response of my crying lament? Are your bones starting to wither And your teeth loosening in the jaw? Has your moistness fled in the night Even as mine is running in my tears? O first born of my father, I have left you As security in the hand of my Creator Whose assurance I trust That you will go in peace.
Good | Haste | Tears | Friendship | Friends |
Salomon ibn Gabirol, aka Solomon ben Judah or Avicebron
THE MESSIAH - Lord, tell me when Shall come to men Messiah blest, When shall Thy care His couch prepare To be my guest, To sleep on my golden bed, in my palace rest. Wake, dear gazelle, Shake off thy spell, Nor slumber still. Dawn like a flag Surmounts the crag Of Tabor’s hill, And its flame it unfurls o’er my Hermon, the hoar and chill. From the wild-ass brood To the grace renewed Of Thy dainty roe, O Lord, return, For behold we yearn Our love to show, And our soul with Thy soul at one as of yore to know. Thrice welcome he Who comes to me Of David’s line, My palace treasure Is at his pleasure With all that’s mine, My pomegranate, cinnamon, spice, and the jars of my old sweet wine.
Art | Day | Enemy | Heart | Hope | Knowledge | Land | Light | Looks | Passion | Sacrifice | Sin | Soul | Spirit | Tears | Vengeance | Will | Wisdom | Work | Art | Child | Friends |
Sara Teasdale, born Sara Trevor Teasdale, aka Sara Teasdale Filsinger
This is the spot where I will lie When life has had enough of me, These are the grasses that will blow Above me like a living sea. These gay old lilies will not shrink To draw their life from death of mine, And I will give my body's fire To make blue flowers on this vine. "O Soul," I said, "have you no tears? Was not the body dear to you?" I heard my soul say carelessly, "The myrtle flowers will grow more blue.
Heart | Laughter | Life | Life | Love | Past | Tears | Terror | Words | Old |
Samuel J. Hazo, fully Samuel John Hazo
Because poetry is the language of felt thought and utterance… of admissions and oaths as sacred as life itself, it is evident in an economy by its absence. As long as people are perceived in economic terms alone, poetry (and all the other arts, for that matter) will be regarded as ornamental or irrelevant or simply dispensable… the disregard of poetry will be as fatal to their spiritual lives as the deprivation of oxygen would be to their physical lives. Why? Because poetry tells us who we are, what our surroundings mean to us, and what waits to be discovered beneath the apparent.…It is the language of the heart…It is at the same time the language of the senses.
Death | Faith | Laughter | Life | Life | Nothing | Promise | Quiet | Time | Waiting | War | Work | Worth | Learn |
Shoghí Effendi, fully Shoghí Effendí Rabbání
If you take better care of your own health, and build up your reserves, it would certainly be better for you and for your work. Then your sensitive, yearning heart, although you may still often suffer for and with others, will be better able to withstand its trials, and you will not get so exhausted, which is certainly no asset to your work for the Cause.
Belief | Cause | Courage | Heart | Land | Problems | Spirit | Tenacity | Time | Will | Friends |
Shlomo Wolbe, aka Wilhelm Wolbe
How much patience is needed to raise our children! Our pen would run dry if we attempted to discuss the myriad specific instances of child rearing that demand our patience and a positive/pleasant approach. This is not the place to delve into the many issues regarding the education of our children. However, this we must establish clearly: One does not educate with screaming and smacking! It is a pathetic situation when the only thought of parents regarding the education and rearing of their children is when to smack them… Woe to such an “education!” It is only with infinite patience that we can arrive at a thoughtful response, and a guidance that is built upon the individual nature of the child, thus fulfilling the verse, “Educate the youth according to his way/nature.” (Proverbs 22:6)
Good | Patience | Relationship | Struggle | Time | Unique | Will | Friends |
Ronald Reagan, fully Ronald Wilson Reagan
A tree's a tree. How many more do you need to look at?
Ronald Reagan, fully Ronald Wilson Reagan
The ultimate determinant in the struggle now going on for the world will not be bombs and rockets but a test of wills and ideas-a trial of spiritual resolve: the values we hold, the beliefs we cherish and the ideals to which we are dedicated.
Rumi, fully Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rumi NULL
At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me. Close the language-door and open the love-window. The moon won't use the door, only the window.
Rumi, fully Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rumi NULL
Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.
Rumi, fully Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rumi NULL
Without cause God gave us Being; without cause, give it back again.
Laughter |