The rituals of death

"Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,

Will come when it will come."

Yet despite what the bard says, the fact is that each death is greeted with shock and profound grief by family and friends. The outpourings of sorrow seems sometimes to go on for a long time and casts a shadow on the lives of those left behind as they struggle to recover from the loss.

Our wise ancestors certainly foresaw this and thus laid down a string of rituals for family and friends to follow. Some of these now seem quaint- and some of them are- but the main aim of these rituals is to allow the near and dear ones to cope with the death and to continue with their lives.

All religions have their own sets of funeral rites though many of them seem surprisingly similar to each other. The rituals of death may vary from culture to culture but underlying it is the belief that soul does not die and that it will be preserved in some form of the other.

A belief in the cyclical reincarnation of the soul is also one of the foundations of the Hindu religion. Death is viewed as a natural aspect of life, and there are numerous epic tales, sacred scriptures, and vedic guidance that describe the reason for death's existence, the rituals that should be performed surrounding it, and the many possible destinations of the soul after departure from its earthly existence. While the ultimate goal is to transcend the need to return to life on earth, all Hindus believe they will be reborn into a future that is based primarily on their past thoughts and actions.

The standard cremation ceremony- and all Hindus are cremated- normally begins with the ritual cleansing, dressing and adorning of the body. The body is then carried to the cremation ground as prayers.

It is the chief mourner, usually the eldest son, who performs the major parts of the ceremony at the cremation grounds. He circumambulates the pyre counterclockwise– for everything is backward at the time of death. As he walks round the pyre, his sacred thread, which usually hangs from the left shoulder, has been reversed to hang from the right. He lights the pyre. The dead, now, is an offering to Agni, the fire.

After the corpse is almost completely burned, the chief mourner performs the rite called kapälakriyä, the 'rite of the skull,' cracking the skull with a long bamboo stick, thus releasing the soul from entrapment in the body. After the cremation, the ashes are thrown into a river, ideally the Ganges river, and the mourners walk away without looking back.

The death ritual does not, however, end with the elimination of the body. There is still the safety of the soul to look after. To ensure the passage during its voyage to the Otherworld, an eleven-day ritual called shraddha is performed which consists of daily offerings of rice balls, called pindas, which provide a symbolic, transitional body for the dead which is making the journey to the heavens. On the twelfth day, the departed soul is said to reach its destination and be joined with its ancestors, a fact expressed symbolically by joining a small pinda to a much larger one.

But where does the soul go?

Those who have been "meritorious," but have not quite attained liberation through Self-knowledge, are sent to a heavenly realm to await their fate.

The fate for those who have participated in less honorable thoughts or actions is far less pleasant. The Arthasastra, a Hindu textbook from the second century BCE, offers a detailed description of some of the more frightening realms.

The evil man becomes born as an animal, among the worms, insects, moths, beasts of prey, mosquitoes, and so forth.

Those who lead a life of austerity, meditation and grace can look forward to the possibility of reaching Brahmaloka. This is the "highest among the heavenly planes" and the dwelling place of Brahma himself.

Our wise ancestors laid down a detailed traditon which many follow:

As Death Approaches.
Traditionally, a Hindu dies at home. When death is imminent, kindred are notified. The person is placed in his room or in the entryway of the house, with the head facing east. A lamp is lit near his head and he is urged to concentrate on his mantra. Kindred keep vigil until the great departure, singing hymns, praying and reading scripture.

The Moment of Death.
If the dying person is unconscious at departure, a family member chants the mantra softly in the right ear. Holy ash or sandal paste is applied to the forehead, Vedic verses are chanted, and a few drops of milk, Ganga or other holy water are trickled into the mouth.

After death. The body is laid in the home's entryway, with the head facing south, on a cot or the ground--reflecting a return to the lap of Mother Earth. The lamp is kept lit near the head and incense burned. A cloth is tied under the chin and over the top of the head. The thumbs are tied together, as are the big toes. Religious pictures are turned to the wall, and in some traditions mirrors are covered. Relatives are beckoned to bid farewell and sing sacred songs at the side of the body.

The "chief mourner" leads the rites. He is the eldest son in the case of the father's death and the youngest son in the case of the mother's.The chief mourner performs arati, passing an oil lamp over the remains, then offering flowers. The male (or female, depending on the gender of the deceased) relatives carry the body to the back porch, remove the clothes and drape it with a white cloth. Each applies sesame oil to the head, and the body is bathed with water from the nine kumbhas, dressed, placed in a coffin. The women then walk around the body and offer puffed rice into the mouth to nourish the deceased for the journey ahead. A widow will place her tali (wedding pendant) around her husband's neck, signifying her enduring tie to him. The coffin is then closed.

Cremation.
Only men go to the cremation site, led by the chief mourner. Two pots are carried: the clay kumbha and another containing burning embers from the homa. The body is carried three times counterclockwise around the pyre, then placed upon it. If a coffin is used, the cover is now removed. The men offer puffed rice as the women did earlier, cover the body with wood and offer incense and ghee. With the clay pot on his left shoulder, the chief mourner circles the pyre while holding a fire brand behind his back. At each turn around the pyre, a relative knocks a hole in the pot with a knife, letting water out, signifying life's leaving its vessel. At the end of three turns, the chief mourner drops the pot. Then, without turning to face the body, he lights the pyre and leaves the cremation grounds. The others follow.

Bone-Gathering Ceremony. About 12 hours after cremation, family men return to collect the remains. Water is sprinkled on the ash; the remains are collected on a large tray. Ashes are carried or sent to India for deposition in the Ganges or placed in an auspicious river or the ocean, along with garlands and flowers.

Memorials.
On the 3rd, 5th, 7th or 9th day, relatives gather for a meal of the deceased's favorite foods. A portion is offered before his photo and later ceremonially left at an abandoned place, along with some lit camphor.On the 31st day, a memorial service is held. Others hold one year memorials as long as the sons of the deceased are alive.

Yet our while mourning is never suppressed or denied, our scriptures also admonished all against excessive lamentation for, as they said, departed soul is acutely conscious of emotional forces directed at him and prolonged grieving can hold him in earthly consciousness, inhibiting full transition to the heavenly worlds.

In Hindu Bali, it is shameful to cry for the dead. The Irish hold a "wake" where the family gathers after the body is buried and partake of food and drinks. Whatever the origins, the ceremony of the wake provides comfort to those who have nursed a loved one through a terminal illness or have had them snatched away by disaster without the chance to say goodbye. It is an opportunity to celebrate the departed person’s life in the company of his or her family and friends and to mark their departure from their home for the last time. A wake is thus a scene of both sadness and joy as the end of that life is marked but the life itself is remembered and treasured. For even as there is death, it should be an occassion to celebrate the life of the one who has gone.

It is a wise tradition and one I hope we can add on to our own rituals of death so that they become also a celebration of life.

What's in a name

Whats in a name ?

"A rose by any other name

Would smell as sweet".

So said the bard but little did he know. That names matter was brought home to me rather forcefully recently when a friend of 50 years complained that I constantly misspelled his name ( never mind that his name was spelt fifty different ways anyway). Then another dear friend was miffed that I had forgotten her maiden name although I had remembered her name and her surname.

In any case where did these surnames come from ? What were their origins? The more I looked at their origins, the more I learnt how complex these names were and how much information they could provide about the person. It is important to remember that the use of a surname is relatively new in history and was adopted in order to legally distinguish two individuals with the same first name and that at first, these last names were not passed down to the next generation.

The Chinese were among the very first cultures to adopt the use of hereditary surnames about 5000 years ago. In Europe, surnames weren't used until the 10th or 11th centuries AD in Venice. Gradually throughout Europe, all nobility and gentry adopted surnames until eventually surnames were used by all Europeans of all classes. Surnames were generally derived from four sources.

The first were based on the name of the father- or patronymic. Examples of these are Peterson - son of Peter (Swedish),Mc- /Mac- - son of (Scottish) etc.

The second were those based on area where they came from. Some examples of these surnames are KirkPatrick - Church (kirk) of St. Patrick, Cliff - steep hill etc.

The third kind were based on occupation or social status. Common examples of these are:Cooper - barrel maker, Wagner or Waggoner - wagon maker, eSmith - blacksmith or Powers - poor or taken a vow of poverty.

Finally there were surnames describing the person or personality. Examples of these are Reid - red, ruddy complexion or red hair, Stout - Body size, Armstrong - strong arms or Sharpe - sharp, smart

But each country has its own peculiar origins of surnames. Take India for example. India is a country with numerous distinct cultural and linguistic groups. Thus, Indian surnames, where formalized, fall into seven- not four- general types. Many people from the southern states of Tamil Nadu and Kerala, however, do not use any formal surnames, though most have one. Also in Northern India, most of the people have their family name after the given names, whereas in Southern India, the given names come after the family name. But most surnames fall into one of the seven categories:

▪ Patronymics and ancestry, where the father's name or an ancestor's given name is used in its original form or in a derived form (e.g. Agrawal or Agrawala derived from the ancestor Agrasen).

▪ Occupations (eg Patil meaning Village Headman,); priestly distinctions (Sastry, Purohit); businesspeople (eg Shetty) In addition many Parsi, Bohra and Gujarati families have used English trade names as last names since the 18th and 19th centuries (Contractor, Engineer, Builder). Parsis also have the wonderfully evocative names like Sodawater bottle opener wallah!

▪ Caste or clan names (Pillai and Naidu) are not surnames but suffixes to first names to indicate their clan or caste.

▪ Place names or names derived from places of ancestral origin ( eg Gawaskar, Mangeshkar, Kapoor).

▪ A few last names originate from the names of the ancestors(eg Juthani)

▪ The father's first name is used as a surname in certain Southern states, such as Kerala, Karnataka and Tamil Nadu.

▪ Bestowed titles or other honorifics (titles bestowed by kings, rajas, nawabs and other nobles before the British Raj (Wali, Rai, Panicker,etc.) and those bestowed by the British (Rai, Bahadur).

▪ Names indicating nobility or feudal associations or honorifics (Chowdary, Varma, Tagore, Thakur)

▪ Colonial Surnames based on tax or after religious conversion, particularly in Goa which was under Portuguese control (D'Cruz, Pinto). Often, surnames of Portuguese noble families who were accepted as godparents were used as the surnames of the converted. Some families still keep their ancestral Hindu surnames along with their given Catholic Surnames e.g. Miranda-Prabhu and Pereira-Shenoy.

The convention is to write the first name followed by middle names and surname. It is common to use the father's first name as the middle name or last name even though it is not universal. In some Indian states like Maharashtra, official documents list the family name first, followed by a comma and the given names.

It is customary for wives to take the surname of their husband after marriage. In modern times, in urban areas at least, this practice is not universal. In some rural areas, particularly in North India, wives may also take a new first name after their nuptials. Children inherit their surnames from their father.

The modern day spellings of names originated when families translated their surnames to English, with no standardization across the country. Variations are regional, based on how the name was translated from the local language to English in the 18th, 19th or 20th centuries during British rule. Therefore, it is understood in the local traditions that Agrawal and Aggarwal represent the same name derived from Uttar Pradesh and Punjab respectively. Similarly, Tagore derives from Bengal while Thakur is from Hindi-speaking areas. The officially-recorded spellings tended to become the standard for that family. In the modern times, some states have attempted at standardization, particularly where the surnames were corrupted because of the early British insistence of shortening them for convenience. Thus Bandopadhyay became Banerji, Mukhopadhay became Mukherji, Chattopadhyay became Chatterji etc. This coupled with various other spelling variations created several surnames based on the original surnames.

So the next time you are tempted to take a short cut and mispronounce or forget a surname, take heed for you are treading on dangerous waters.

Give Peace a Chance

Here is another piece that caught my eye.....

"Angelina Jolie is to blame, really. Because of something she said to me in India four years ago, I have quit my 13-year career as an entertainment journalist, have given away almost everything I own, and at 43, have joined the Peace Corps.

Yes, the Peace Corps still exists. In fact, the agency, founded just weeks after President John F. Kennedy took office in 1961, will celebrate its 50th anniversary this March. Since its creation, the Peace Corps has sent more than 200,000 American volunteers abroad, where they have worked in poor communities as teachers, health educators, and advisers in business, the environment, and agriculture, among other fields. Although the Peace Corps’s public profile may be quieter today than it was during the Kennedy era, the agency is now on the cusp of resurgence. In 2009 the Senate approved an increase in funding from $340 million to $400 million, the largest single-year jump in Peace Corps history.

I knew none of this, of course, when I arrived in Mumbai in November 2006 to interview Jolie. I had been a writer at NEWSWEEK for almost four years at the time, and a journalist for a decade covering the film industry. It’s fair to say the Peace Corps was nowhere near my radar. What was on my mind, though, was a growing dissatisfaction in my work that no amount of success seemed to cure. I was good at my job and paid well, and yet I couldn’t shake the sense that I was spending most of my energy on something that ultimately wasn’t real.

Writing about Hollywood is like being a reporter at Disneyland. At first, you can’t believe that you get to spend every day in The Happiest Place on Earth. Everyone wants to ask you about your work. You’re surrounded by princesses, and the sky sparkles with pixie dust. But as the years go on, you learn about the oily machinery that manufactures all that enchantment. You see what Cinderella’s really like when that glass slipper comes off. And then one day you notice that the magic is gone, and all you’re left with is a small, small world.

So I was seeking something authentic when I arrived in India, and I got more than I bargained for. A reported 43 percent of Mumbai’s 18 million people live in slums, and the depth of poverty is soul-sickening. By the time I met with Jolie, I felt raw and rattled, and I was eager to learn how she coped with this kind of suffering in her role as a U.N. ambassador. She said it was painful, yes, but it wasn’t debilitating because she was active. Her work was bringing attention to crises in the world. “If I couldn’t do that, I don’t know how I’d be around it, because I’d feel helpless,” she told me as we drove through the city. “You know, we all go through stages in our life where we feel lost, and I think it all comes down to having a sense of purpose. When I was famous for just being an actress, my life felt very shallow. Then when I became a mom and started working with the U.N., I was happy. I could die and feel that I’d done the right things with my life. It’s as simple as that.”

As a rule, I don’t ask celebrities for advice about anything, save hotels and restaurants, and I didn’t exactly race home and quit my job. But Jolie’s insight stuck with me, and over the next few years, as my ambivalence about my career deepened, I realized that she had provided me with an answer. I had absolute freedom. If I was willing to make a few sacrifices, I could find my sense of purpose and engage myself in work that would feel meaningful to me and be helpful to others. After more than a decade in the most glamorous theme park on earth, I could choose to make my world big again.

So 18 months ago I applied to join the Peace Corps, and this week I leave for South Africa to begin my 27-month commitment as an HIV/AIDS Outreach volunteer. Excited as I am, I confess that I haven’t quite eradicated all of my Hollywood values. I’m currently trying to calculate how much Kiehl’s moisturizer could fit in my 80-pound luggage allotment. But I have zero doubt about my decision. I do not know where this experience will lead me, but I no longer feel lost. I’m certain that my compass is pointed in the right direction.

Smith recently resigned as L.A. bureau chief of Entertainment Weekly."

Obama's speech

Sometimes you really need to read the original to get to the full depth of the author's intent and skills, skipping the commentaries of the journalists. Obama's speech at Tucson Arizona is one more example of this. Even though the speech was widely praised, reading it gives you a far better perspective on his intelligence, vision and wisdom.

Remarks of President Barack Obama – As Prepared for Delivery

At a Memorial Service for the Victims of the Shooting in Tucson, Arizona
University of Arizona, McKale Memorial Center
Tucson, Arizona
January 12, 2011

As Prepared for Delivery—

To the families of those we’ve lost; to all who called them friends; to the students of this university, the public servants gathered tonight, and the people of Tucson and Arizona: I have come here tonight as an American who, like all Americans, kneels to pray with you today, and will stand by you tomorrow.

There is nothing I can say that will fill the sudden hole torn in your hearts. But know this: the hopes of a nation are here tonight. We mourn with you for the fallen. We join you in your grief. And we add our faith to yours that Representative Gabrielle Giffords and the other living victims of this tragedy pull through.

As Scripture tells us:

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.

On Saturday morning, Gabby, her staff, and many of her constituents gathered outside a supermarket to exercise their right to peaceful assembly and free speech. They were fulfilling a central tenet of the democracy envisioned by our founders – representatives of the people answering to their constituents, so as to carry their concerns to our nation’s capital. Gabby called it “Congress on Your Corner” – just an updated version of government of and by and for the people.

That is the quintessentially American scene that was shattered by a gunman’s bullets. And the six people who lost their lives on Saturday – they too represented what is best in America.

Judge John Roll served our legal system for nearly 40 years. A graduate of this university and its law school, Judge Roll was recommended for the federal bench by John McCain twenty years ago, appointed by President George H.W. Bush, and rose to become Arizona’s chief federal judge. His colleagues described him as the hardest-working judge within the Ninth Circuit. He was on his way back from attending Mass, as he did every day, when he decided to stop by and say hi to his Representative. John is survived by his loving wife, Maureen, his three sons, and his five grandchildren.

George and Dorothy Morris – “Dot” to her friends – were high school sweethearts who got married and had two daughters. They did everything together, traveling the open road in their RV, enjoying what their friends called a 50-year honeymoon. Saturday morning, they went by the Safeway to hear what their Congresswoman had to say. When gunfire rang out, George, a former Marine, instinctively tried to shield his wife. Both were shot. Dot passed away.

A New Jersey native, Phyllis Schneck retired to Tucson to beat the snow. But in the summer, she would return East, where her world revolved around her 3 children, 7 grandchildren, and 2 year-old great-granddaughter. A gifted quilter, she’d often work under her favorite tree, or sometimes sew aprons with the logos of the Jets and the Giants to give out at the church where she volunteered. A Republican, she took a liking to Gabby, and wanted to get to know her better.

Dorwan and Mavy Stoddard grew up in Tucson together – about seventy years ago. They moved apart and started their own respective families, but after both were widowed they found their way back here, to, as one of Mavy’s daughters put it, “be boyfriend and girlfriend again.” When they weren’t out on the road in their motor home, you could find them just up the road, helping folks in need at the Mountain Avenue Church of Christ. A retired construction worker, Dorwan spent his spare time fixing up the church along with their dog, Tux. His final act of selflessness was to dive on top of his wife, sacrificing his life for hers.

Everything Gabe Zimmerman did, he did with passion – but his true passion was people. As Gabby’s outreach director, he made the cares of thousands of her constituents his own, seeing to it that seniors got the Medicare benefits they had earned, that veterans got the medals and care they deserved, that government was working for ordinary folks. He died doing what he loved – talking with people and seeing how he could help. Gabe is survived by his parents, Ross and Emily, his brother, Ben, and his fiancée, Kelly, who he planned to marry next year.

And then there is nine year-old Christina Taylor Green. Christina was an A student, a dancer, a gymnast, and a swimmer. She often proclaimed that she wanted to be the first woman to play in the major leagues, and as the only girl on her Little League team, no one put it past her. She showed an appreciation for life uncommon for a girl her age, and would remind her mother, “We are so blessed. We have the best life.” And she’d pay those blessings back by participating in a charity that helped children who were less fortunate.

Our hearts are broken by their sudden passing. Our hearts are broken – and yet, our hearts also have reason for fullness.

Our hearts are full of hope and thanks for the 13 Americans who survived the shooting, including the congresswoman many of them went to see on Saturday. I have just come from the University Medical Center, just a mile from here, where our friend Gabby courageously fights to recover even as we speak. And I can tell you this – she knows we’re here and she knows we love her and she knows that we will be rooting for her throughout what will be a difficult journey.

And our hearts are full of gratitude for those who saved others. We are grateful for Daniel Hernandez, a volunteer in Gabby’s office who ran through the chaos to minister to his boss, tending to her wounds to keep her alive. We are grateful for the men who tackled the gunman as he stopped to reload. We are grateful for a petite 61 year-old, Patricia Maisch, who wrestled away the killer’s ammunition, undoubtedly saving some lives. And we are grateful for the doctors and nurses and emergency medics who worked wonders to heal those who’d been hurt.

These men and women remind us that heroism is found not only on the fields of battle. They remind us that heroism does not require special training or physical strength. Heroism is here, all around us, in the hearts of so many of our fellow citizens, just waiting to be summoned – as it was on Saturday morning.

Their actions, their selflessness, also pose a challenge to each of us. It raises the question of what, beyond the prayers and expressions of concern, is required of us going forward. How can we honor the fallen? How can we be true to their memory?

You see, when a tragedy like this strikes, it is part of our nature to demand explanations – to try to impose some order on the chaos, and make sense out of that which seems senseless. Already we’ve seen a national conversation commence, not only about the motivations behind these killings, but about everything from the merits of gun safety laws to the adequacy of our mental health systems. Much of this process, of debating what might be done to prevent such tragedies in the future, is an essential ingredient in our exercise of self-government.

But at a time when our discourse has become so sharply polarized – at a time when we are far too eager to lay the blame for all that ails the world at the feet of those who think differently than we do – it’s important for us to pause for a moment and make sure that we are talking with each other in a way that heals, not a way that wounds.

Scripture tells us that there is evil in the world, and that terrible things happen for reasons that defy human understanding. In the words of Job, “when I looked for light, then came darkness.” Bad things happen, and we must guard against simple explanations in the aftermath.

For the truth is that none of us can know exactly what triggered this vicious attack. None of us can know with any certainty what might have stopped those shots from being fired, or what thoughts lurked in the inner recesses of a violent man’s mind.

So yes, we must examine all the facts behind this tragedy. We cannot and will not be passive in the face of such violence. We should be willing to challenge old assumptions in order to lessen the prospects of violence in the future.

But what we can’t do is use this tragedy as one more occasion to turn on one another. As we discuss these issues, let each of us do so with a good dose of humility. Rather than pointing fingers or assigning blame, let us use this occasion to expand our moral imaginations, to listen to each other more carefully, to sharpen our instincts for empathy, and remind ourselves of all the ways our hopes and dreams are bound together.

After all, that’s what most of us do when we lose someone in our family – especially if the loss is unexpected. We’re shaken from our routines, and forced to look inward. We reflect on the past. Did we spend enough time with an aging parent, we wonder. Did we express our gratitude for all the sacrifices they made for us? Did we tell a spouse just how desperately we loved them, not just once in awhile but every single day?

So sudden loss causes us to look backward – but it also forces us to look forward, to reflect on the present and the future, on the manner in which we live our lives and nurture our relationships with those who are still with us. We may ask ourselves if we’ve shown enough kindness and generosity and compassion to the people in our lives. Perhaps we question whether we are doing right by our children, or our community, and whether our priorities are in order. We recognize our own mortality, and are reminded that in the fleeting time we have on this earth, what matters is not wealth, or status, or power, or fame – but rather, how well we have loved, and what small part we have played in bettering the lives of others.

That process of reflection, of making sure we align our values with our actions – that, I believe, is what a tragedy like this requires. For those who were harmed, those who were killed – they are part of our family, an American family 300 million strong. We may not have known them personally, but we surely see ourselves in them. In George and Dot, in Dorwan and Mavy, we sense the abiding love we have for our own husbands, our own wives, our own life partners. Phyllis – she’s our mom or grandma; Gabe our brother or son. In Judge Roll, we recognize not only a man who prized his family and doing his job well, but also a man who embodied America’s fidelity to the law. In Gabby, we see a reflection of our public spiritedness, that desire to participate in that sometimes frustrating, sometimes contentious, but always necessary and never-ending process to form a more perfect union.

And in Christina&hellipin Christina we see all of our children. So curious, so trusting, so energetic and full of magic.

So deserving of our love.

And so deserving of our good example. If this tragedy prompts reflection and debate, as it should, let’s make sure it’s worthy of those we have lost. Let’s make sure it’s not on the usual plane of politics and point scoring and pettiness that drifts away with the next news cycle.

The loss of these wonderful people should make every one of us strive to be better in our private lives – to be better friends and neighbors, co-workers and parents. And if, as has been discussed in recent days, their deaths help usher in more civility in our public discourse, let’s remember that it is not because a simple lack of civility caused this tragedy, but rather because only a more civil and honest public discourse can help us face up to our challenges as a nation, in a way that would make them proud. It should be because we want to live up to the example of public servants like John Roll and Gabby Giffords, who knew first and foremost that we are all Americans, and that we can question each other’s ideas without questioning each other’s love of country, and that our task, working together, is to constantly widen the circle of our concern so that we bequeath the American dream to future generations.

I believe we can be better. Those who died here, those who saved lives here – they help me believe. We may not be able to stop all evil in the world, but I know that how we treat one another is entirely up to us. I believe that for all our imperfections, we are full of decency and goodness, and that the forces that divide us are not as strong as those that unite us.

That’s what I believe, in part because that’s what a child like Christina Taylor Green believed. Imagine: here was a young girl who was just becoming aware of our democracy; just beginning to understand the obligations of citizenship; just starting to glimpse the fact that someday she too might play a part in shaping her nation’s future. She had been elected to her student council; she saw public service as something exciting, something hopeful. She was off to meet her congresswoman, someone she was sure was good and important and might be a role model. She saw all this through the eyes of a child, undimmed by the cynicism or vitriol that we adults all too often just take for granted.

I want us to live up to her expectations. I want our democracy to be as good as she imagined it. All of us – we should do everything we can to make sure this country lives up to our children’s expectations.

Christina was given to us on September 11th, 2001, one of 50 babies born that day to be pictured in a book called “Faces of Hope.” On either side of her photo in that book were simple wishes for a child’s life. “I hope you help those in need,” read one. “I hope you know all of the words to the National Anthem and sing it with your hand over your heart. I hope you jump in rain puddles.”

If there are rain puddles in heaven, Christina is jumping in them today. And here on Earth, we place our hands over our hearts, and commit ourselves as Americans to forging a country that is forever worthy of her gentle, happy spirit.

May God bless and keep those we’ve lost in restful and eternal peace. May He love and watch over the survivors. And may He bless the United States of America.

Read more: http://thepage.time.com/2011/01/10/obama-to-arizona-wednesday/#ixzz1AvTC01aa

The three secrets of life

Neil Pasricha's blog 1000 Awesome Things savors life's simple pleasures, from free refills to clean sheets. In this heartfelt talk from TEDxToronto, he reveals the 3 secrets (all starting with A) to leading a life that's truly awesome. awesomeness of life...

Searching for a cure

It is good to begin the year with a heartwarming story. David Lamb is a personal friend of some ten years - we met in Vietnam in 1997- and here he writes of his struggles to find a cure for his strange malady. Starting in 2003, David developed an itch that could not be alleviated and the best medical opinion was clearly stumped. But throughout all this pain, David, and his lovely wife Sandy, persisted and finally after seven long years found a cure. Glad to say that David has now been declared cancer free.

But read this story , it will warm the cockles of your heart in these sad times cancer cure.