I am... I said

I leaned up against the wall near the furthest dumpster in this alley as I journeyed home a night last week and sang these words over and over:

"’I am’... I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
No even the chair.”

Acoording to Neil Diamond, who penned the song, “I am…I said,” “It was consciously an attempt on my part to express what my dreams were about, what my aspirations were about and what I was about.”

“There is a time for everything…” and it is the time for me to take pause and write down and use my power of concentration focus on 2018.

Happy New Year!

I CANs

With the nightfall draping us in darkness around 4:15 pm during this time of year, I have noticed a woman wearing a hajib. She cleans one of the neighbor banks at night. The bank is lit up on the interior with the outside darkness almost like a theatrical production. I stand as an audience member wondering if she notices me because I would like to smile, wave and acknowledge her.

Then I remember with sadness a woman from Ethiopia, who sat down on the side cement steps outside of All Pilgrims Church earlier in 2017. She worked but was ashamed to say she was a custodian because she was not living the American Dream. I looked her in the eyes, smiled and said something about an honest day’s work and an honest day’s pay. I also mentioned that I am not sure if I have lived the American Dream. I can’t afford a house in Seattle, and maybe it is the “I CANs” that I understand not the “I CAN’Ts in the Ameri"can." Dream.

I hope the day this woman cleaning the bank looks up and out the window When I am standing there.I will smile and wave. You matter.

It could be you

A dark and chilly evening walk slowly making steps home. I gave all of the hats knitted and loomed out to those in need. All I have is my Santa hat. Thinking about it, I don’t have gloves, and I remembered that I promised my elderly neighbor a hat.

I noticed a makeshift bed in a doorway. The man was dancing and singing at the top of his lungs in the middle of the street, leaving his bed abandoned. I pressed the crosswalk button. I slowly walked out into the street with my crutch and led him to the curb, where he continued dancing and singing.

He did not have a hat so I left him a gift. I have one more Santa hat in the trunk of my car. It’s time to make a hat for my neighbor as I sit and loom in my warm apartment with a cup of tea.

Merry Christmas, my friend and may you have a good night!

Side Note: Many of the people in my neighborhood are living examples of helping in their way. However, I do not encourage others to put yourself in harms way or an unsure situation. If you are unsure how to help, call the SPD non-emergency line. 

I called it before the weather changed. A man was naked. He took a shower with the hose in front of my apartment and asked me for a bar of soap and towel. There were no apparent clothes to be found. I waited for the police cruiser. The police helped him. God Bless, the SPD!

What will your day hold?

Okay...why not have a good time when you are buying new orthotics with plain black flat functional shoes? I purchased a new pair of shoes yesterday. I walked with my own type of swank like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever.

I met this young man, who worked in a dingy neighborhood grocery. He was so kind to the street people and poor who entered through the doors. He counted their money so they could see what they were able to buy.

I bought a lotto ticket from him. He shared in between the customers how he was an abused child and survived. How he survived a drug addiction. He overcame his past. He recently graduated with his college degree. He will eventually earn his doctorate. He has a plan. He is living his life with purpose. He lives with compassion, purpose and a plan. I won the jackpot by buying a lotto ticket yesterday. It was worth the price.

A man by the name of Rob stopped on the corner as I left the store. He had a crucifix. Rob was looking for a good Christian woman to marry. I said that I would marry him in 35 years if each of us had not found a spouse. I started to cross the street. Rob yelled, “Wait.” He laid his crucifix on my right leg. Rob offered a healing prayer. He wanted his future wife to be healed.

I stopped on the way to my car to the Hotel Sorrento and St. James Cathedral to offer a prayer for the afternoon, including the people and a marriage proposal.

What will today bring?

Don't water down your greeting or your belief!

I hit “like” on this post last week. I have reflected on it as I rode the bus. I reflected on it during my evening walks. I have reflected. You are welcome to have your traditions. I am welcome to practice mine, to share my greetings and beliefs without retaliation or fear because I am a Christian.

I will continue to wish all a “Merry Christmas” as I wear my Santa hat and without it. I am proud to be a Christian. I expect you not to change me by saying, "Happy Holidays." I expect you not to change my faith. I expect you will learn about me, and I will learn about you. Where is the conversation?

How can you say that I MUST water down my journey to walk with you on yours? I have celebrated other faith traditions, and I am respectful of them. I learned about Kwanza last year, and the list goes on and on.

Respect each others’ holiday traditions. You do not have to embrace all aspects of other’s beliefs. Learn about others’ faith. Be accepting.

And Merry Christmas!

Don't water down your greeting or your belief!

I hit “like” on this post last week. I have reflected on it as I rode the bus. I reflected on it during my evening  walks. I have reflected. You are welcome to have your traditions. I am welcome to practice mine, to share my greetings and beliefs without retaliation or fear because I am a Christian.

I will continue to wish all a “Merry Christmas” as I wear my Santa hat and without it. I am proud to be a Christian. I expect you not to change me by saying, "Happy Holidays." I expect you not to change my faith. I expect you will learn about me, and I will learn about you. Where is the conversation?

How can you say that I MUST water down my journey to walk with you on yours? I have celebrated other faith traditions, and I am respectful of them. I learned about Kwanza last year, and the list goes on and on.

Respect each others’ holiday traditions. You do not have to embrace all aspects of other’s beliefs. Learn about others’ faith. Be accepting.

And Merry Christmas!

WE ARE ONE!

As the week begins,

I have been reminded so many times this past week of similarities and differences yet WE ARE ONE!

When I first moved to Seattle, I lived a friend’s basement in the Lake Ridge neighborhood. I shopped in Renton at the Walmart. Neighbors said, “It is the scariest store.” Some asked, “Why don’t you shop at the Fred Meyers?”  I heard last evening from folks I had dinner with in South Seattle, and they reiterated, “It (Renton Walmart) is the scariest store.”

I walked into buy a couple of items yesterday morning. Two men from two different countries were delighted to see each other. They smiled. They laughed. They hugged each other.  So many people from so many countries lifted my spirit.

When I walked with my purchase, I shared a few words with the Kettle Korn Man, Robert. A woman shared with us about her church in Skyway. Robert stepped out of In His Hands Kettle Korn stand and joined us in a group hug. Robert then offered a prayer.

I headed to the DK Market, where I buy digestive cookies. They are delicious with a cup of Dutch Brothers coffee. I do digress. Or is it I digest?

The DK Market: "For some, the wares found here is the answer to an exotic ingredient quest, for others this is a giant taste of home.”  I did not even understand the languages that filled the air. I was in the moment and accepted the environment that engulfed me.

I watched the movie “The Big Sick” last week. I did not appreciate the F-bombs. However, I liked the message. I placed a snippet of the message that resonated with and allowed me to be observant and live my Renton moment this past Saturday.

So “As the week begins…” I encourage you to observe where you are in the moment.

https://www.facebook.com/julia.shaffer.37/videos/10210407078476428/

Kenneth

Since I had given my entire collection of Bibles away to those in need who have asked for one, I stopped on my way home last evening at a thrift store. As I looked through the Bibles and books on prayer, a young man walked up to me. His name is Kenneth, and he moved to America from Uganda 7-years ago.  He said, "Most Ugandans received Bibles because of the Gideon’s.” 

As I listened to Kenneth share his journey, the movie, “Hotel Rwanda” ran through my head. His compassion translates to love. He cares for the developmentally disabled in supported living settings.

When I asked him to name a challenge or what he did not understand when he moved to America, Kenneth said without pause: “I did not know where to go to church. There are too many denominations. I did not know which church to choose. American’s seem to over think God. Isn’t there one God?”

Kenneth continued to pull this torn, tattered and worn copy of the King James Bible from the shelf. He repeatedly handed it to me. I replaced it on the shelf each time. The final time Kenneth removed it from the shelf. He offered this piece of scripture for me:

“²⁴ Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness: by whose stripes ye were healed.”                                         

-1 Peter 2:24 King James Version (KJV)

He handed me the Bible one more time as he walked away. I thumbed through it, and I realized that my Shaffer cousins would understand these comments.  There was a copy of Psalm 121 that my Grandpa Shaffer had me memorize as a young child secured with a rusty paperclip to the front page. There was clip shaped as a heart with the saying:  “I Love Step.”  I do not plan to move either item from their place in the Bible.

This Bible was given to another stranger named Raymond with an inscription from another stranger, named David: “To Raymond on his birthday with best wishes. David.” March 12, 1959.

This Bible will be a gift for more years to come.

No Title Necessary

Have we been distracted by Tweets and Facebook posts perpetuating needed or unneeded publicity that bring divisiveness. I cannot speak for you. So I am asking you to to read the below and to look away from the recent posting.

My neighbor Bill was a Trappist Monk in the 1960's. He left this world with walls into a world without walls in the 1970's.

I met Bill after my first knee surgery at the bus stop. I walked with a walker. Bill along with another neighbor helped me to enter and exit the bus so I could travel to and from work.

Bill became ill with a number of medical issue. He began to walk with a walker. He saved enough money from his monthly stipend to ride the bus and purchase all of the gently used socks he could afford at the Goodwill on Dearborn and carry the bags on his walker home. He laundered the socks, bagged them up and rode the bus to Harborview's Madison Clinic that serves people who cannot afford medical assistance.

I visited with Bill about a year ago as he waited for the bus to take him to the Goodwill. He smiled and waved to me as the bus drove off. I have not seen Bill, again. I have looked and looked for him. Some of the people on the bus looked for him.

I bought a couple of packages of tube socks last winter, and I wrote Bill's name on the sock's. I then handed them out.

I am fortunate to have long time friends, who have recently offered me cash donations for yarn. Since I have yarn and more yarn at the moment, I am asking you to buy a pair of tube socks, carry them in your coat pocket or in your bag, and hand them to a person on the street.

As for Bill, I hope he has transitioned to a new world, where his medical conditions no longer exist.

A Change of Season

With the change of season and the coolness of the air, hats have been requested.

We have some yarn, and it's calling out: "Make me into a hat so warmth can be shared."

Living Stones is looking for volunteers to answer the call in the Seattle area. Your help is appreciated since a number of our volunteers have passed away.Please feel free to leave a comment today.

We encourage you to help in the way that you can in your respective communities, and we give gratitude for your likes of this post because it will give thanks to the current Living Stones volunteers.

Montana Wild Fires

“We went from worrying about heat stress to worrying about hypothermia.”

Living Stones Ministries Rock On!p rovided 360 hats through their Christmas in July program to a number of agencies 20-hats at a time. Living Stones only received 4-thank you notes. I was saddened because the bedridden volunteers love to receive copies of the thank yous.

I have had a number of friends, who have reached out to me from Texas and Florida. I am the primary funder of Living Stones since we do not have a nonprofit status. I have made donations to both states through reputable organizations, and I will continue to hold you in prayer.

The remainder of the Living Stones donations will be sent to the overlooked Montana aka Big Sky Country, The Treasure State and a number of other names.

 It was a gift to drive through, experience and meet the fine folks of this State. I stopped wherever there was a gas station to top off the tank because I was not sure if another one would be found. I lost radio signals. This elderly gas station owner sold me The Village People's Greatest Hits and Cher's "Believe" for 99 cents each. He had not been able to sell the cassettes. I sang and car danced through the remainder of this treasured state and Idaho that is a gem of a state.

I am mailing the 100-hats and small crate of new tube socks to Montana. You are not forgotten. No need to say thanks. I will write a short story with my gratitude for their efforts.

http://missoulian.com/news/local/snow-rain-and-cold-throw-ko-punch-at-western-montana/article_0acf769d-6df4-5883-8765-363d35898806.html

Having a Dream. Living a Dream. Share a Dream.

My Dream

I believe that dreams don’t die. Maybe we bury them due to life’s busyness or maybe it is financial. How can I afford to self-publish the book and maybe have an editor?

Maybe some of us are stuck. I have found myself stuck in a rut with my wheels spinning. I have discarded many dreams along the road side, not as speed bumps to slow me down but as garbage for a crew in orange jumpsuits to pick up.

I read the comics in The Seattle Times every day. I usually read Luann, Betty, and Between Friends to name a few. I was drawn to Crankshaft on Monday, April 24, 2017. The comic did not focus on Crankshaft. The focus was on Crankshaft’s next door neighbor, Lillian McKenzie. I read all week. It concluded on Saturday, April 29, 2017 with the following: 

Please see these links:  http://comicskingdom.com/crankshaft/2017-04-26
http://comicskingdom.com/crankshaft/2017-04-27
http://comicskingdom.com/crankshaft/2017-04-28 for my highlights from Crankshaft this week.

I noticed a familiar figure down the block. It was Karin, who is a business owner and entrepreneur with a heart for others. We talked and talked and talked as we walked to her car. The last thing mentioned was about me writing a book.

I contemplated writing the book one more time as I walked home. I made my way home and walked through my apartment door. The thought was still with me. I had readied for bed. The thought was still with me. I lit a candle, and I sat down and stared into the flame. I reflected.

I first met Cathy Walker, who was a close childhood friend and Edgewood Park neighbor, in Miss Hammer’s third grade at Washington Center Elementary School. I shared with Cathy that I wanted to be an author in the fifth grade. (I also wanted to attend clown school but I wasn’t sure about how to drive the car.)

I shared with my Aunt Judy and Cousin Amy that I begun writing this book last summer.  Here is the working Preface:

“Even then, more than a year earlier, there were neurons in her head, not far from her ears, that were being strangled to death, too quietly for her to hear them. Some would argue that things were going so insidiously wrong that the neurons themselves initiated events that would lead to their own destruction. Whether it was molecular murder or cellular suicide, they were unable to warn her of what was happening before they died."  From "Still Alice" by Lisa Genova.

I was shopping on a rainy Seattle evening at my local Quality Food Center. My usual path after making my purchases was to stop by the magazine rack and thumb through the "Star" magazine. I read my horoscope because my Grandma Ruby Kirby would buy the weekly "Star" tabloid to me in junior high and in high school.

One this particular evening, I read the horoscope and smiled. I then took pause at the book rack as one cover caught my eye. It was "Still Alice" by Lisa Genova.  An endorsement by USA Today was on the cover: "A poignant portrait of Alzheimer’s…Not a book you will forget."

Maybe I do want to forget. I worked in a continuing care retirement community and spent time with residents, who had dementia, but mostly my Grandma had dementia. Do I want to pick up a fictional book about my nonfictional work and life? I watched residents daily in the decline that could not be stopped no matter how their families looked for that pill...a photograph that possibly would jog a memory…playing a favorite song over and over...that memory game.  Nor could my Grandma’s decline be slowed.

I picked up the book, and I read the words beginning with "Even then"…and ending with…"they were unable to warn her of what was happening before they died." I closed the book. I made one more purchase before leaving the QFC. I read "Still Alice" in two evenings.

"Look through my eyes"...is not "Still Alice." It is the story of my Grandma. Even though many of the stories are true, it is a fictional story. I wondered what she remembered when she could no longer verbalize her thoughts. I am filling in Grandma’s thoughts. I am giving her words. Maybe the words were her own. Or maybe out of my hope she had thoughts and words that brought her peace and a quality of life that I will never understand. I will always remember the laughter and love.

I have written and rewritten the manuscript 5-times. Once the candle burned out and the room became dark, I understood why Look Through my Eyes never seemed right. I wrote it to try to please others, not from my authentic self and how I experienced my Grandma through my memories.

I believe this dream is not suppose to die (yet). One more try to keep the dream alive.

I will write on in hopes that you read on.

A Teaser About My Grandma

As of August 4, 2017...

Happy 100th!

My Grandma Ruby (Figert) Kirby would have been 100 today. She passed away at 95. I celebrate her and the memories of the old farmhouse in Wabash, Indiana, which was filled the smells and sounds of the fried chicken crackling away in the frying pan or as Grandma would say, “The chicken is in the electric skillet.” I loved eating the fried chicken as much as hearing my Grandma saying "the electric skillet."

The gravy was delicious she made after the chicken popped and crackled in the electric skillet. Life needs to have more gravy. Yum and more gravy, please!

Caption: Grandma Ruby and Grandpa Kenny celebrated a birthday in the 1980’s.

Your DonationsYour donations will help with the cost of the self publishing.  I want to make this also into an audio book for my mother, who is exhibiting memory loss. I want to narrate the audiobook. My mother can listen to it over and over with the recognizable voice of her daughter.

This photo of my Mom and her friend Ruth (aka Ruthie Baby) was taken on August 30, 2017.

Benefit

My hope is that the book speaks to one person and maybe another and another.  Family members and loved ones will know that they are not alone.

When I heard Glen Campbell died, I wrote on Facebook,
"I thank Glen and his family for making this chapter of his journey public. May others be helped through his journey.

Glen Campbell, you're 'not gonna miss' us; however, you will remain 'gentle on our minds.'"

It was a reminder to live our moments in the present. Don't put your dreams off. 

GratitudeI give gratitude for your support because there maybe a day that I won't remember names. I won't remember faces. My memories will be erased. I wonder as I age: "Will this be me?"  All I need to wonder is: "Where did I put my keys?"

I thank you. I thank you for taking the time to read my words. I thank you for considering one of my dreams and possibly making it a reality.

https://www.gofundme.com/qc5cr-living-a-dream

Mold It. Live Your Passion.

Julie Shaffer and Matthew Metz

My friend, who grew up in Avila, Indiana and now lives across the pond, Marge Duehmig introduced me to one of her East Noble H.S. classmates, Matthew Metz. He graduated from Ball State. Matthew is a ceramic artist/potter.

Matthew introduced me to the music of Harry Chapin and took me to Chapin's concert at the Embassy Theatre.

Matthew lives the words of Chapin's song, "I Wonder What Would Happen To This World:"

"Now if a man tried to take his time on Earth

And prove before he died

What one man's life could be worth

Well, I wonder what would happen to this world?"

Thank you, Matthew, for continuing to live your passion and making the world a little bit better for it.

Please see the artist statement at http://www.art-stream.com/exhibiting-artists/matthew-metz/ for more information.

My Person of the Week: August 20, 2017

Berlena

As the week begins...I have decided to choose a person of the week for the next few weeks instead of "Eating Sheet Cake!"  (Tina Fey can explain sheet cake.)

My person of the week is Berlena Brock. I met Berlena when I first moved to Seattle at First Christian Church. She is uplifting and plays songs I sing with my residents.

Berlena reminds me a little bit of Mary Tyler Moore because she can turn the world on with her smile. You also know when Berlena is coming and going because her license plates read: "Berlena."

Ask Berlena about the umbrella in the church's lost and found box. I'm still laughing. She is my favorite activities director. She is a woman of faith. She is a woman of compassion. She serves others.

Thank you, Berlena, for being my person of the week.

My Person of the Week: August 27, 2017

Robert

As the week begins...Robert Andrade is my person of the week.

I first met Robert on Sunday, August 23, 2015 at his popcorn tent: "In His Hands Kettle Korn."

"My coffee maker and iron gave out after many years of use this past week. Fitting in my budget, I stopped by the Renton Walmart. I found a parking space far out in the lot. A young man asked me if I was okay because I limped as I walked towards the store's entrance. I said, "I am fine." I thanked him.

When I left the store with my purchase, I noticed a sign on a popcorn fundraiser: 'Need Prayer? No Purchase Necessary. Just Sayin.' I slowly walked towards the parking. I then walked back to the side of the awning closest to the store. I mentioned his sign about prayer. He asked about my prayer request. I briefly explained about my leg and believing in a miracle all of these years.

He prayed and it was heartfelt and beautiful and no purchase was necessary."

This is more than kettle corn. It is a kind word. It is compassion. It is nourishment not only for the body but for the soul.

I encourage to stop by to see Robert. He serves a diverse and sometimes a vulnerable population in Renton. So when, I have a few dollars in my pocket, I give a donation to Robert. He provides a bag or two of popcorn to someone, who is hungry and cannot afford food or just needs to be uplifted.

Finding One's Passion

I met yesterday a beautiful soul who's spirit shines. Her name is Earline Aston, and she volunteers at the reception desk at the Northwest African American She suffered a stroke on January 2, 2014. Earline was discharged from the hospital to Foss Home and Village's post acute rehab.

Earline has found her purpose since the stroke. She lives her passion and shares her joy. I give gratitude for Earline!

https://youtu.be/_4KXYcqZBdI

It’s Your Choice. Eagle? Or Cheeto?

Eagle? Or Pigeon?

I find joy in reading the comics early each morning. I find joy in numerous moments throughout the day. I found joy and inspiration in an unexpected meeting last evening.

I didn't need to shop. I was not hungry so there was no need to eat. I was pulled into the mall. I was not sure, "Why?"

As soon as I sat down with my bottle of water at a table in the food court, two men walked up and sat down with me. One man, "K," took the Adult Family Homes' (AFH) Administrator course last July as my classmate. He and his wife recently opened an AFH. He had brought one of his residents to the mall for an outing.

K and his wife came to the United States many years ago as immigrants. They became American citizens. K served in the United States Armed Forces for 25-years, and his wife continues to work more than 24-years later as a nursing assistant at Harborview. K wanted to serve in the present. He said that his residents are part of his family, and it was apparent.

As we parted, we hugged. Then K looked me in the eyes and stated, "You’re an eagle!"

I had not planned to share this moment until I read the comic strip, "Pickles" this morning. 

It’s your choice. Eagle? Or Pigeon?

http://www.gocomics.com/pickles/2017/7/21

A 'Great' Aunt

Grandma Ruby and Great Aunts Arline and ReBerta.

My Great Aunt Arline passed away. I love my great aunts, including ReBerta, Mary and Arline along with my Grandma Ruby.

Aunt R------ as I wrote her name in cards was the funniest person yet she loved her family.

My Grandma along with Arline, ReBerta, and Mary, who wore glasses with thick lenses, and I could never see her eyes. They loaded into my car with Aunt Mary in the front seat determined to give me driving directions to Uncle Jim and Aunt Rhea's.

The conversation became louder and louder with each of them pulling, poking and prodding me from behind. their hands in front of my face. "Who grabbed my glasses?" I stated that I would pull the car over, and we would have a time out.

I heard Arline ask my Grandma and Reberta, "Do you think Julie will pull the car over? And what is a time out?" I did pull the car onto the shoulder, and we had a time out. I heard Arline ask, "How long is this time out?" I tried not to laugh.

We were back on the road and within a couple of minutes, and the car was once again in chaos. All of the sudden, Arline yelled, "Stop the car!" She pointed at the bowling alley sign: "Line Dancing." (Besides swimming, she was a line dancer into her early 90's. She performed at nursing homes.)

We arrived at Jim and Rhea's, and they were not home. ReBerta suggested that with sit on the lawn furniture and visit a while. Arline then performed a line dance for us.

It was a great day with my Grandma and Aunts in Wabash, Indiana.

Arline almost made it to her 99th birthday on August 2nd. May our relatives dance a jig in celebration of a life well lived.

Arline's son took her to the Peru McDonald's daily for a snack and visit. I will celebrate a "Great" Aunt on Saturday during her service with a Happy Meal in Seattle.

I will always love you.

Kickin' off July 4th

Terry

 

 

My friends Mary and Terry invited me to the Bellevue Community Band Patriotic Concert this evening. (Mary has played the flute in this band for 49-years.)

 

The Crossroads Mall patrons are diverse. The concert opened with "The Star Spangled Banner, and all stood with their hands over their hearts. Most were singing. The applause brought tears to my eyes.

When those who served in the Air Force were asked to stand, Terry stood. Tears welled up in my eyes once, again.

 

No matter the direction of our world affairs, "America has always been great!"

Ho! Ho! Ho! It's that time of year, again: "Living Stones' Christmas in July!"

Peek a boo! Leona accepted the donation of hats for United Christian Church.

United Christian Church in Renton was the first recipient of hats for their community outreach.

Did I hear that The Renton Kiwanis Clothes Bank will receive this donation on behalf of the church?
https://www.rentonkiwanisclothesbank.org/

This is a true partnership between Living Stones and United Christian Church because member’s of congregation; the Kimsey’s donated some yarn for the project.

Rock On!

Fostering Love

Mr. Wiegmann with Bruce Wayne/Batman 

Phyllis graduated with me from Fort Wayne Northrop in 1979. We talked about theatre and music along with extracurricular activities. I always respected Phyllis’ commitment to everything she does in life. I now have a better understanding of that commitment.

I did not live in Phyllis’ neighborhood so I did not know of her family’s ministry of foster babies.

“Growing up my parents fostered 78 infants. We would have them from birth until they were adopted, often 3-4 at a time. My 3 brothers and I learned early on how to change diapers (cloth ones that you bleached and pinned), and do bottle feeding (sterilized glass). Usually within a month or so they would be adopted and the next one would arrive. Occasionally some medical issues would result in a longer stay and deeper attachment. A special red head was one of them. The agency had given us a single letter which we used to give the babies their foster name. This one we had named Bruce Wayne, or Batman. Heart issues meant 26 trips to Riley hospital and eventually open heart surgery while he was with us. And then, like the rest he was adopted. Now 48 years later we will get to see him again as he comes to Fort Wayne on Sunday with his wife and children. We can't wait.”

After I read the Phyllis’ Facebook post this past Saturday, July 1^st, I sat in gratitude as I reread and absorbed her words and looked at the pictures. The Wiegmann family and their capacity to love and give back to children was a gift.

I then instant messaged Phyllis the following: “Your post made my day. I have reflected on my current ministry and a dream lost. I have wanted to be a foster parent to older children; however, the cost of living in Seattle is so expensive for housing.  I have been praying about foster parenting lately. Would you mind if I shared your post? It has touched my heart.”

Phyllis:  “Share away!”

Me:   “Thanks. I will!”

I am not sure how to become a foster parent but there must be a way to help children.

Mrs. Wiegmann and Phyllis with Bruce Wayne/Batman