THREE SWEET TALES OF LIFE IN THE WORLD
THIS WEEK WITH MEHER BABA
Introduction: Three small, beautiful experiences...2 from last weekend and a 3rd, humorous one, just added today, Thursday, that also strongly "referenced" BABA in my mind!
FYI: as background for the first incident narrated here, you should know perhaps that there is a school named after Meher Baba in Lafayette, California, where I live (as there are one, actually, two in India that I've visited). I've been a preschool teacher, "specializing" in music, stories, and general companionship and, hopefully, good humor, at the Meher/White-Pony School in Lafayette, for 24 years.
1: Concord, CA, COSTCO
The picture of Beloved Baba shown in this graphic is the one I carry in my wallet. This morning after pushing my cart into Costco, I pulled it out of my wallet, because I like to carry it in my hand at Costco and sing Baba’s Name softly as I walk down the aisles.
I was going down the aisle farthest to the right, passing all the lit-up flat-screen TVs. Quite a ways farther down, I saw a woman with a little girl in her cart, crossing my aisle at a right-angle because the store widens down there to include another aisle even farther to the right, that she was heading to.
I noticed but didn’t think much about them; but as I proceeded, the little girl called out, “Hey, you’re from the Meher School!”
I felt thrilled to hear her words! I’ve worked at the Meher School in Lafayette, CA, for 24 years and for reasons I don’t understand, I used to see families I know at the Concord, CA Costco a good deal more than I do these days.
The little girl, I realized later, recognized me at least partly by the faux-turquoise jewel on the front of the cowboy hat I was wearing to shield my face from the hot sun on the Costco parking lot.
The girl and mom had stopped and waited for me and my cart to reach them. “Wow!” I said to the girl. I felt so happy to hear you call out to me! What’s your name?
“Eva,” she said.
“What room are you in at school?
“Room eleven…second grade.”
“Ooooh!” I replied, understanding now why she recognized me from so far away. “Your room is on the tier right above our preschool sandbox and slide! You see me every day wearing this hat!”
She flashed a big smile.
“You’re already up there in second grade!” I said. “Me, I’ll never get out of preschool!”
Her mom smiled at that; she did, too, a little.
Eva pointed to the card I was still holding in my left hand that was resting on that side of the cart's handlebar, and said, “And that’s Meher Baba!”
“Right!” her mom and I said at the same time.
Before we went our separate ways, I told Eva, “I don’t know if it took a lot of bravery for you to shout out to me, but I’m really appreciate that you did!”
I pushed my cart, softly singing Baba’s Name again, along a cloud of soft joy.
2: The 99-Cent Store, Monument Blvd:
Later in my round of errands, as I was coming out of a Dollar Store a mile or two away, a thin, bearded man sitting bare-chested on the parking lot curb and wearing either pantaloons or possibly a skirt of bright orange with yellow bananas on it, spoke to me a bit gravelly, asking for—I think—23 cents. I reached in my pocket and saw that I had neither any change nor a dollar bill, and told him, “Just I minute. I have to go to my car to get it.”*
Imagining that he thought I would probably just drive away, I walked quickly, opened the car door, reached into the place on the console where I keep my parking change, and got out two quarters. Then I headed 30 or so feet back to where he, having risen, was coming my way, and gave him the change.
He held the coins in his open palm, looking closely at them, maybe because they were new and very shiny. After a moment, he looked up at me with eyes and a smile as bright as an angel! As if I’d given him a million bucks! As pure as one of my preschool students receiving an unexpected popsicle!
Walking back to my car again, I suspect that I was wearing that same smile now, myself!
3. An Analogy To Baba and His Mandali in Their Dealings with the Masts (God-Intoxicated souls):
I mean this only as a humorous analogy...
I work at Meher School several days a week with children 2 to 5 in the Nap Room (other days, with "Resters" who have outgrown naps, in a different room). I usually sit between two children on their cots and (supposedly) also in their sleeping bags and blankets which they've brought from home.
I gently pat a child on the forehead or back or if he/she prefers, the tummy or heart area, on top of his/her clothing, to help them sleep, if they wish me to. Sometimes a child prefers not to be touched, and then I just sit there on a "floor-chair" quietly and sort of meditate. A teacher's physical presence nearby can help a child to feel safe and secure, and fall asleep. (I've seen this.)
My usual charges, at the beginning of recent nap times, have been two children I'm very fond of. One is a boy two years old, and the other is three. The first couple of days, both of them sort of jumped around for a few minutes, and then both "ran out of gas" (energy), turned over, and went right to sleep in seconds. I was kind of amazed how fast it can be!
I haven't been that "lucky" this week. Both have been extremely energized at nap time. One THROWS off his sleeping bag, including its nice end-pillow, and maneuvers off his cot, plays with the cardboard barriers we put up between his cot and various surfaces that hold toys that might keep him up if he saw them, and generally does anything he can to rebel.
The other child demands her water bottle...a ploy, often, a grab at anything that's not sleep. I allow one trip to the shelf where the water bottles are, and then, returning without bringing it along...the simple reason being that were it under the cot, this child, being someone whose mind concocts any conceivable scheme to avoid going to sleep, would engage in the operation of thinking of it, then reaching for it, then putting it back, and going through the same thing again any number of times.
Both children have other expressions of their "rebellion against The Sandman", and I just sit there quietly saying Baba's Name to myself and in these cases, patting each child very gently. When one of the children gets off their cot and onto the floor, I say (our school follows a program for such things called the "Nurtured Heart" program, which you can look up), "You need to keep your whole body on your cot, it's a rule. Please reset yourself."
Let me cut to the chase here. The past several days, the only analogy I could think of for my helpless predicament there with those rebellious nappers, was Baba or the Mandali working with the also frequently-intractable masts! (At least all this is making me think of Him, huh!)
So far, every day, these kids still DO finally just run out of energy! It can take half an hour now, but they do. They need their naps, and deep inside, they know it and yield. (Or we would make them Resters!)
It's been an adventure, and I thought I'd share this amusing, Baba-referencing take on it!
______________
*FOOTNOTE TO #2: THE DOLLAR STORE:
* Some who read this may be aware that Meher Baba, in spite of the terrible poverty in India, especially in the 1930s-‘60s, strongly advised visiting Westerners NOT to give money to beggars. The main reason given for this was that such an act would incur some karma with the beggar, and if he or she misspent the donation, using it to buy liquor or drugs, for example, the giver would take on some of that karma. Baba also said one might give a small amount at times, saying (to yourself or the beggar, or both), “This is from Meher Baba”. In the anecdote in the article above, a very small amount of money is involved. The author had no qualms about that. Over the years, he has encountered so many desperate and poverty-stricken souls (it seems ne can often tell by the person’s appearance and demeanor, that they are not faking), that holding back from giving a bit of help sometimes, was hurting his heart too much! Whereas for years he would offer to take a needy person into a restaurant and buy him or her a sandwich and some coffee, in the past couple of years he has given $1 donations to people in wheelchairs at traffic stoplights, and other such places…taking Baba’s Name to himself while doing so…and felt fine about it. And a $5 gift to a homeless mother with small children, begging outside a supermarket, as well as others on a few other occasions.
Introduction: Three small, beautiful experiences...2 from last weekend and a 3rd, humorous one, just added today, Thursday, that also strongly "referenced" BABA in my mind!
FYI: as background for the first incident narrated here, you should know perhaps that there is a school named after Meher Baba in Lafayette, California, where I live (as there are one, actually, two in India that I've visited). I've been a preschool teacher, "specializing" in music, stories, and general companionship and, hopefully, good humor, at the Meher/White-Pony School in Lafayette, for 24 years.
1: Concord, CA, COSTCO
The picture of Beloved Baba shown in this graphic is the one I carry in my wallet. This morning after pushing my cart into Costco, I pulled it out of my wallet, because I like to carry it in my hand at Costco and sing Baba’s Name softly as I walk down the aisles.
I was going down the aisle farthest to the right, passing all the lit-up flat-screen TVs. Quite a ways farther down, I saw a woman with a little girl in her cart, crossing my aisle at a right-angle because the store widens down there to include another aisle even farther to the right, that she was heading to.
I noticed but didn’t think much about them; but as I proceeded, the little girl called out, “Hey, you’re from the Meher School!”
I felt thrilled to hear her words! I’ve worked at the Meher School in Lafayette, CA, for 24 years and for reasons I don’t understand, I used to see families I know at the Concord, CA Costco a good deal more than I do these days.
The little girl, I realized later, recognized me at least partly by the faux-turquoise jewel on the front of the cowboy hat I was wearing to shield my face from the hot sun on the Costco parking lot.
The girl and mom had stopped and waited for me and my cart to reach them. “Wow!” I said to the girl. I felt so happy to hear you call out to me! What’s your name?
“Eva,” she said.
“What room are you in at school?
“Room eleven…second grade.”
“Ooooh!” I replied, understanding now why she recognized me from so far away. “Your room is on the tier right above our preschool sandbox and slide! You see me every day wearing this hat!”
She flashed a big smile.
“You’re already up there in second grade!” I said. “Me, I’ll never get out of preschool!”
Her mom smiled at that; she did, too, a little.
Eva pointed to the card I was still holding in my left hand that was resting on that side of the cart's handlebar, and said, “And that’s Meher Baba!”
“Right!” her mom and I said at the same time.
Before we went our separate ways, I told Eva, “I don’t know if it took a lot of bravery for you to shout out to me, but I’m really appreciate that you did!”
I pushed my cart, softly singing Baba’s Name again, along a cloud of soft joy.
2: The 99-Cent Store, Monument Blvd:
Later in my round of errands, as I was coming out of a Dollar Store a mile or two away, a thin, bearded man sitting bare-chested on the parking lot curb and wearing either pantaloons or possibly a skirt of bright orange with yellow bananas on it, spoke to me a bit gravelly, asking for—I think—23 cents. I reached in my pocket and saw that I had neither any change nor a dollar bill, and told him, “Just I minute. I have to go to my car to get it.”*
Imagining that he thought I would probably just drive away, I walked quickly, opened the car door, reached into the place on the console where I keep my parking change, and got out two quarters. Then I headed 30 or so feet back to where he, having risen, was coming my way, and gave him the change.
He held the coins in his open palm, looking closely at them, maybe because they were new and very shiny. After a moment, he looked up at me with eyes and a smile as bright as an angel! As if I’d given him a million bucks! As pure as one of my preschool students receiving an unexpected popsicle!
Walking back to my car again, I suspect that I was wearing that same smile now, myself!
3. An Analogy To Baba and His Mandali in Their Dealings with the Masts (God-Intoxicated souls):
I mean this only as a humorous analogy...
I work at Meher School several days a week with children 2 to 5 in the Nap Room (other days, with "Resters" who have outgrown naps, in a different room). I usually sit between two children on their cots and (supposedly) also in their sleeping bags and blankets which they've brought from home.
I gently pat a child on the forehead or back or if he/she prefers, the tummy or heart area, on top of his/her clothing, to help them sleep, if they wish me to. Sometimes a child prefers not to be touched, and then I just sit there on a "floor-chair" quietly and sort of meditate. A teacher's physical presence nearby can help a child to feel safe and secure, and fall asleep. (I've seen this.)
My usual charges, at the beginning of recent nap times, have been two children I'm very fond of. One is a boy two years old, and the other is three. The first couple of days, both of them sort of jumped around for a few minutes, and then both "ran out of gas" (energy), turned over, and went right to sleep in seconds. I was kind of amazed how fast it can be!
I haven't been that "lucky" this week. Both have been extremely energized at nap time. One THROWS off his sleeping bag, including its nice end-pillow, and maneuvers off his cot, plays with the cardboard barriers we put up between his cot and various surfaces that hold toys that might keep him up if he saw them, and generally does anything he can to rebel.
The other child demands her water bottle...a ploy, often, a grab at anything that's not sleep. I allow one trip to the shelf where the water bottles are, and then, returning without bringing it along...the simple reason being that were it under the cot, this child, being someone whose mind concocts any conceivable scheme to avoid going to sleep, would engage in the operation of thinking of it, then reaching for it, then putting it back, and going through the same thing again any number of times.
Both children have other expressions of their "rebellion against The Sandman", and I just sit there quietly saying Baba's Name to myself and in these cases, patting each child very gently. When one of the children gets off their cot and onto the floor, I say (our school follows a program for such things called the "Nurtured Heart" program, which you can look up), "You need to keep your whole body on your cot, it's a rule. Please reset yourself."
Let me cut to the chase here. The past several days, the only analogy I could think of for my helpless predicament there with those rebellious nappers, was Baba or the Mandali working with the also frequently-intractable masts! (At least all this is making me think of Him, huh!)
So far, every day, these kids still DO finally just run out of energy! It can take half an hour now, but they do. They need their naps, and deep inside, they know it and yield. (Or we would make them Resters!)
It's been an adventure, and I thought I'd share this amusing, Baba-referencing take on it!
______________
*FOOTNOTE TO #2: THE DOLLAR STORE:
* Some who read this may be aware that Meher Baba, in spite of the terrible poverty in India, especially in the 1930s-‘60s, strongly advised visiting Westerners NOT to give money to beggars. The main reason given for this was that such an act would incur some karma with the beggar, and if he or she misspent the donation, using it to buy liquor or drugs, for example, the giver would take on some of that karma. Baba also said one might give a small amount at times, saying (to yourself or the beggar, or both), “This is from Meher Baba”. In the anecdote in the article above, a very small amount of money is involved. The author had no qualms about that. Over the years, he has encountered so many desperate and poverty-stricken souls (it seems ne can often tell by the person’s appearance and demeanor, that they are not faking), that holding back from giving a bit of help sometimes, was hurting his heart too much! Whereas for years he would offer to take a needy person into a restaurant and buy him or her a sandwich and some coffee, in the past couple of years he has given $1 donations to people in wheelchairs at traffic stoplights, and other such places…taking Baba’s Name to himself while doing so…and felt fine about it. And a $5 gift to a homeless mother with small children, begging outside a supermarket, as well as others on a few other occasions.
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