Make Each Day Your Masterpiece!
“Make each day your masterpiece, angels can do no better.” (Coach Wooden) He was an English teacher. He quoted poetry. He despised profanity. He adored his wife – Nell. And he coached a little….with a bit of success.
Inspiration
How times have changed!! I love this story – a celebration of the human spirit …
It’s 1932 and Australia is in the grip of the Great Depression.
One in three workers are unemployed.
Decrepit shanty towns hug the outskirts of the big cities.
A scrawny rabbit caught in a trap will feed a family for a week.
Country roads are filled with broken men walking from one farmhouse to another seeking menial jobs and food.
On the outskirts of the South Gippsland town of Leongatha, an injured farmer lies in bed unable to walk – or work.
World War I hero Captain Leo Tennyson Gwyther is in hospital with a broken leg and the family farm is in danger of falling into ruins.
Up steps his son, nine-year-old Lennie.
With the help of his pony Ginger Mick, Lennie ploughs the farm’s 24 paddocks and keeps the place running until his father can get back on his feet.
How to reward him?
Lennie has been obsessively following one of the biggest engineering feats of the era – the construction of the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
He wants to attend its opening.
With great reluctance, his parents agree he can go.
So Lennie saddles up Ginger Mick, packs a toothbrush, pyjamas, spare clothes and a water bottle into a sack, and begins the 1000+ kilometre trek to Sydney.
Alone.
That’s right.
A nine-year-old boy riding a pony from the deep south of Victoria to the biggest and roughest city in the nation.
Told you it was a different era.
No social media.
No mobile phones.
But even then it doesn’t take long before word begins to spread about a boy, his horse and their epic trek.
The entire population of small country towns gather on their outskirts to welcome his arrival.
He survives bushfires, is attacked by a “vagabond” and endures rain and cold, biting winds.
When he reaches Canberra he is welcomed by Prime Minister Joseph Lyons, who invites him into Parliament House for tea.
When he finally arrives in Sydney, more than 10,000 people line the streets to greet him.
He is besieged by autograph hunters.
He becomes a key part of the official parade at the bridge’s opening.
He and Ginger Mick are invited to make a starring appearance at the Royal Show.
Even Donald Bradman, the biggest celebrity of the Depression era, requests a meeting and gives him a signed cricket bat.
A letter writer to The Sydney Morning Herald at the time gushes that “just such an example as provided by a child of nine summers, Lennie Gwyther was, and is, needed to raise the spirit of our people and to fire our youth and others to do things – not to talk only.
“The sturdy pioneer spirit is not dead … let it be remembered that this little lad, when his father was in hospital, cultivated the farm – a mere child.”
When Lennie leaves Sydney for home a month later, he has become one of the most famous figures in a country craving uplifting news.
Large crowds wave handkerchiefs.
Women weep and shout “goodbye”.
According to The Sun newspaper, “Lennie, being a casual Australian, swung into the saddle and called ‘Toodleloo!’”.
He finally arrives home to a tumultuous reaction in Leongatha.
He returns to school and soon life for Lennie – and the country – returns to normal.
These days you can find a bronze statue in Leongatha commemorating Lennie and Ginger Mick.
But Australia has largely forgotten his remarkable feat – and how he inspired a struggling nation.
Never taught about him in school?
Never heard of him before?
Spread the word.
We need to remember – and celebrate – Lennie Gwyther and his courageous journey.
It’s a great story.
from Garry Linnell’s article in The New Daily
Anna De Buisseret: All The Law Is On Our Side… There Will Be A Second Nuremburg Trial
This is genocide, crimes against humanity. A little bit of good news from the Old Country!
https://odysee.com/@ResistanceGB:f/Anna-De-Buisseret-Nuremburg-Trial:7
Pleasant People Make The Best NAZIs
I think it is probably more correct to say “mindlessly compliant to authority” rather than “pleasant” as one can be pleasant in one’s non-compliance with tyranny, even while batting it in the head!
The Donkey, The Tiger and The Lion
The donkey told the tiger, “The grass is blue.”
The tiger replied, “No, the grass is green.”
The discussion became heated, and the two decided to submit the issue to arbitration, so they approached the lion.
As they approached the lion on his throne, the donkey started screaming: “Your Highness, isn’t it true that the grass is blue?”
The lion replied: “If you believe it is true, the grass is blue.”
The donkey rushed forward and continued: “The tiger disagrees with me, contradicts me and annoys me. Please punish him.”
The king then declared: “The tiger will be punished with 3 days of silence.”
The donkey jumped with joy and went on his way, content and repeating “The grass is blue, the grass is blue…”
The tiger asked the lion, “Your Majesty, why have you punished me, after all, the grass is green?”
The lion replied, “You’ve known and seen the grass is green.”
The tiger asked, “So why do you punish me?”
The lion replied, “That has nothing to do with the question of whether the grass is blue or green. The punishment is because it is degrading for a brave, intelligent creature like you to waste time arguing with an ass, and on top of that, you came and bothered me with that question just to validate something you already knew was true!”
The biggest waste of time is arguing with the fool and fanatic who doesn’t care about truth or reality, but only the victory of his beliefs and illusions.
Never waste time on discussions that make no sense. There are people who, for all the evidence presented to them, do not have the ability to understand. Others who are blinded by ego, hatred and resentment, and the only thing that they want is to be right even if they aren’t.
When ignorance screams, intelligence moves on.
True Leaders
Reminds me of the punchline in the wide mouth frog joke!
(If you haven’t heard it, you’ll find it easily enough on the internet.)
Hold The Line – Maintain Your Personal Integrity
The reason there is such an horrendous push on at present to get everyone to conform is not for any health benefit, it is because the truth is becoming more and more evident, the deaths and injuries from the “prevention” are becoming more widely known and the cases are being brought in the courts to prove the illegality of the actions mandated.
Hold the line! Maintain your personal and bodily integrity. Do not be coerced by a bully, no matter that the bully says they have the authority to bully you – they do not!
Always with Love – Vanessa Papallo
Written by a lovely client of mine.
GATE A-4
Grab your tissues and read this!
How one woman helped to create, even if briefly and even if only for a few, the world most of us want to live in.
Isn’t this worth emulating?
Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal, after learning my flight had been delayed four hours, I heard an announcement: “If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately.” Well — one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing. “Help,” said the flight agent. “Talk to her. What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be late and she did this.”
I stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke haltingly.
“Shu-dow-a, Shu-bid-uck Habibti? Stani schway, Min fadlick, Shu-bit-se-wee?” The minute she heard any words she knew, however poorly used, she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been cancelled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for major medical treatment the next day. I said, “No, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just later, who is picking you up? Let’s call him.”
We called her son, I spoke with him in English. I told him I would
stay with his mother till we got on the plane and ride next to
her. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just
for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out of course they had ten shared friends. Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her? This all took up two hours.
She was laughing a lot by then. Telling of her life, patting my knee,
answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool
cookies — little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts — from her bag — and was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the mom from California, the lovely woman from Laredo — we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling.
There is no better cookie.
And then the airline broke out free apple juice from huge coolers and two little girls from our flight ran around serving it and they
were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend — by now we were holding hands — had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing, with green furry leaves. Such an old country tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.
And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and I thought, This is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in that gate — once the crying of confusion stopped— seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too.
This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.
~ Naomi Shihab Nye