Looking For Helpers

I'm sure you've seen this quote floating around Facebook, especially when horrible people do unthinkable things. If you're like me, you agree with and love the quote--and ADORE Mr. Rogers. And you might look at the quote and accompanying picture of thoughtful introspection with a minor degree of cynical cheesiness but you'd have enough social sense to not admit that publicly.






Also, if you're like me, you don't know how to make sense of all the mayhem that has happened this month. In your personal world, in your religious world, in the outside world. 

You walk your daughter through Times Square once a week, as usual, but this time it's heavily guarded with special forces and mounted policeman wearing deadly...things. And you're supposed to feel safer but really you don't. 

And your husband is going through work trauma and your body is going through a complete transformation and your kids are falling apart. 

But someone calls your phone and your ringtone is Bob Marley's 3 Little Birds. Because every little thing's gonna be alright. Don't worry about a thing. 

There are helpers in the news and all over the world. I admire them and wish I was more brave and more capable of being one of them. But I can't help but notice and give a huge, bloggy, public hug to the helpers in my own life. The ones that have been strategically placed to snatch me out of disaster.

They come in different forms and ALWAYS in unexpected ways. No one at church really knows us yet (we've only been here 3 months? feels like eternity) so we haven't had a chance to make good friends or open up to anyone. However, one blessed angel was at my house tonight, changing lightbulbs, making the girls' beds, eating a dinner I ruined, and teaching a short drawing lesson. And talking about Saturday Night Live and Dansko shoes. 

There was a lady at church who pulls me aside very week and with complete sincerity asks me how I'm doing. I don't think we've even exchanged names. She told me I absolutely must go to 4 and 20 Blackbirds, the best pie place in Brooklyn. I agree. I must go. But I also must tell her someday how thoughtful she is for checking in on me, and who told her I love pie?

There was the elderly Jewish man who held the door open for me and the girls and told Hannah he hoped she feels better soon (with the broken foot). This meant the world to all three of us, as we've really struggled to connect with our Hasidic neighbors. 

There's that ginger tea that my mom sent and a sister whose been watching out for and caring for us even though she's managing her own disasters. I hope she can find her helpers. I hope if you are watching a disaster unfold, on tv or in church or in your home, you have helpers. 

If you're reading this, chances are you've been one of my helpers. Thank you! As a way of repaying your kindness, I'm going to find someone tomorrow to help. Even if all I do is recommend that they try Jacques Torres' frozen hot chocolate as it is much superior to Serendipity 3. 

(I have many more examples but I'm too tired to write.)

Every little thing's gonna be alright

and

It will all work out

and 

Find the helpers

and

We hope to be able to endure all things.





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