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Don't mess with Mister In-Between!

Today's crumb is adapted from an article in the Vancouver (Canada) Sun.

The health-care industry is beginning to consider shifting its focus from "disease management" to "health creation." Evidence is accumulating that a focus on disease does not improve health. Similarly, problem-focused negativity on the news, social media and many movies can darken the way we see life. A study from the United Kingdom monitored the mental attitudes of 360 heart patients for one year. Believe it or not, it found that patients willing to surrender negative attitudes had better health outcomes. 

There is no pill to cure negativity, but it can be reduced as we take time to notice the beauty around us. Appreciating beauty nourishes hope. Children know this.

If you have a day when everything (even your own attitude) feels negative, make a choice to remember one or two moments of beauty. It's never too late to weed out negativity. How? In the words of composer Johnny Mercer, "You've got to accentuate the positive; eliminate the negative; latch on to the affirmative and don't mess with Mister In-Between." If you've never heard this song from the 1944 movie Here Come the WAVES, visit www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z45EB4TiYz4

Splicing the breaks in our life

As Alice tossed her wet laundry into her automatic dryer, her thoughts went back forty years. Before she owned an electric dryer, she always carried a heavy basket of wet clothes outside to the wash line in her yard. One day the pulley squeaked every time Alice pulled on the line, attracting the attention of a telephone repairman on a pole nearby, who sent her a neighborly wave.

Later as she made lunch for her toddler son, she could hear the clothes on the line snapping in the breeze when suddenly there was silence. The clothesline had broken and most of the clothes were laying in the garden. She went to fetch her laundry basket, and as soon as she stepped outside, there was the phone repairman. "Saw the whole thing happen, ma'am, so I came down the pole to give you a hand. Free service and a lifetime guarantee." With a few twists of his pliers, he mended the line.

Now, forty years later, she still remembers the stranger's kindness. It reminds her of another "free service and a lifetime guarantee" -- God's promise to all his children. God comes unbidden to help us splice the breaks and put the broken ends of life together. Sometimes He's hard to recognize in a hardhat and overalls.   (adapted from a 2005 issue of Guideposts Magazine)

Jeremy's Easter egg

Jeremy was born with some mental retardation and a chronic terminal illness that would prevent him from reaching adulthood. At age 12, he was still in second grade at St. Teresa's School, seemingly unable to learn. His teacher, Doris Miller, suggested to Jeremy's parents that he go to a special school. She had 18 other children to teach, and Jeremy was a distraction. After pleas from his parents. she agreed to let Jeremy stay, and try to be more patient with him. That spring, the students were excited about Easter. She gave each student a large plastic egg and asked them to go home and fill it with something that shows new life. The next morning, 19 children dropped their eggs in a basket on Mrs. Miller's desk. She opened them one-by-one. The first one contained a flower. "Oh yes, that shows new life," she said. The next contained a plastic butterfly that looked real. "We all know how a caterpillar turns into a butterfly," she remarked approvingly. The third egg contained nothing. She was about to put it aside and reach for another when Jeremy spoke up. "Don't you want to talk about my egg?" he asked. "But Jeremy, your egg is empty," she said. He looked into her eyes and said, "Yes, but Jesus' tomb was empty too." When she could speak again, she asked him if he knew why the tomb was empty. "Oh yes!" Jeremy said. "Jesus was killed and put in there, but the Father raised him up." The recess bell rang, and all the children ran outside, but Mrs. Miller wept. Her impatience with Jeremy had melted away.

Three months later, Jeremy died. Those who paid their respects at the mortuary were surprised to see 19 plastic eggs on top of his casket -- all of them empty.

What does it mean to be a coach?

Former University of North Carolina basketball coach Dean Smith died last February at 83. He was the first coach in the modern era to treat his players as a family. There was nothing he wouldn't do to help them, whether they asked for help or not. It didn't matter if you were Michael Jordan or the team manager -- Coach was always available. He helped players get jobs. He helped them manage finances and solve marriage problems. He insisted they earn good grades, and most of all, he preferred that nobody talk about him. He liked being in the background.

Smith was so highly respected in North Carolina that when UNC played Duke soon after he died, both teams observed a moment of silence. But even after death, he made sure to thank his players one final time. In his will, he directed his trustee to give $200 to every letter winner who played for him during his 36 seasons as head coach at UNC. Checks were sent in March to 180 letter winners, and each check came with a letter instructing the player to "enjoy a dinner out compliments of Coach Dean Smith."

Serge Zwikker played for Smith from 1993-1997. He said his wife opened the envelope and handed it to him.  "At first I didn't know what it was, but when it hit me, it put a tear in my eye," Zwikker said. "Even after he passed, he was still all about the players. I don't know if I can cash this. If anything, I will donate it to a good cause."  Godspeed, Coach Smith.

Have you seen the babe?

For many decades, a life-size painting of Simeon and the Child Jesus, similar to the one below, hung in the lobby of The Christian Science Publishing Society in Boston. Bible students will remember the story from the Gospel of Luke. Simeon lived in Jerusalem, and God promised him he would not die until he saw the Lord's Christ. He happened to be in the temple when Joseph and Mary brought Jesus "to do unto him after the custom of the law." Simeon saw more than a newborn boy. He knew in his heart that this baby would grow up to become Christ Jesus, so he took the babe in his arms and said, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation."

As a new Monitor employee, I didn't know why the painting hung in the lobby. Later I learned Mary Baker Eddy was in her 80's when she started the newspaper with its unique mission "to injure no man, but to bless all mankind." When the first edition was delivered to her home in Chestnut Hill, MA, she may have glimpsed its future. The day was gray and rainy, but she said it was really the brightest of all days, for this was the day "our newspaper goes forth to lighten mankind." She died a few years later, and never saw the Monitor become widely respected international daily paper with several Pulitzer prizes to its credit. But like Simeon, she was thankful to have "seen the babe."

Jury duty

Back in the 20th century, when I worked for The Christian Science Monitor in Boston, MA, I received a notice for jury duty. At that time in Suffolk County, jury duty lasted two weeks. So there I sat in the jury lounge of the county courthouse at Government Center, hour after hour, day after day.

 Typical jury lounge, where pool members wait to be called.

I was questioned and excused from one panel that was to hear a drug possession case. Another jury pool member said I was lucky to be excused, but I was bored waiting in the lounge. I almost got picked for two other trials, but again I was excused. As soon as my two weeks of waiting were over, I complained to a lawyer friend that "I sat there for two weeks and never even got on one jury. What a waste of time!" But my friend said my role was important. He said participating in jury selection is critical to getting a fellow citizen a fair trial even if I was was never chosen. "You did serve," he said, "just by showing up. People can fake that they care, but they can't fake being there."

It reminded me of what Woody Allen once said. "Showing up is 80% of life."