Most of us just spent a frantic month or so shopping. I do not like to shop. I think it started with my mom, who rose to the challenge, but only just. She would pack up my sister and me and off we’d go. My sister looked cute in everything she tried on. We couldn’t always find my size. I remember 6X, and went on to wear other “X’s,” too. I wasn’t the fattest girl in my grade, but I was a far cry from thin, like my sister.
       My older daughter loves to shop. She takes after my sister, always looking cute in the outfits she tried on. When she needed a dress for Homecoming, I took stock of my options and decided to put on a brave face and head out as the Mom Who Could Shop. My daughter was a lively teenage girl with lots of energy and high motivation. I had life experience and an extra 22 years. By the time she had tried on her 17th or so dress in the 10th or so store, I was way past done. My legs were shot, my mind was shot and I was out of patience.
       I told her we’d have to come back out tomorrow. There were still a few places we hadn’t looked. She balked, begging for one last try. I found a bench in the center of the mall concourse and cried real, but very quiet tears. She took no pity.
       The second I agreed, an angel jumped onto my shoulder. The very next dress was THE dress. I don’t remember the name of the store, but I remember the dress: bright, royal blue like the sky on a cloudless day in the middle of autumn. A slight puff of sleeve at the shoulder tapered into a tighter fit at the wrist. The flounced skirt was exactly the right length. She was happy. I was thrilled at the thought of finally going home.
       But what about the shoes?
       Ohhh...
       After a good night’s sleep, I was ready (almost) to tackle the shoes. Right after school, we piled into the car and went straight to Payless. My angel came, too. I saw them before we even got out of the car. There in the window was a pair of blue heels, not too high, exactly the same color as THE dress! In her size! She slid them on and became Cinderella trying on her glass slipper.
       It was a small miracle, but just the miracle I needed. I thanked G-d, my angel, and my lucky stars and went home to make dinner.
       I know my daughter will be reading this, so...Rachel, I love you and never want you to be any different than the way you are: tenacious, persistent, hard-working, loving and dedicated to your family and your values. Thanks for letting me tell your story!
                                                                   --stay curious!

Science can’t always explain what the heart already knows: Our most important friends are sometimes those we least expected.
                                   from Owen and Mzee: The True Story of a Remarkable Friendship
                                                         by Isabella and Craig Hatkoff with Dr. Paula Kahumbu      
       On December 26, 2004, a huge tsunami destroyed much of Indonesia. resulting in great loss of life and way of life, and great loss of homes and great loss of animals. One animal that survived was a baby hippo. His rescuers named him Owen. Owen was taken to a sanctuary in Kenya, where he was well cared for and placed in an enclosure. With his physical needs met as well as humanly possible, it was up to Owen himself to take care of the rest.
       Mzee, a tortoise, lived in the enclosure. He was not friendly. At 130 years, he was not young either. But he was gentle with Owen, allowing Owen to sleep cuddled up to him. He showed Owen the food he ate. Even though not typical hippo food, Owen didn’t seem to mind. They became great friends and stayed together many years until the keepers deemed it unsafe for Mzee. Through the years Owen topped out at about 8,000 pounds, well over twice Mzee’s size. Mzee had an old shell crack that could be severely damaged if Owen wasn’t careful. 
       I sometimes feel a lot like Owen: docile, a little unsure of my place in the world, and longing for comfort. I am also a lot like Mzee, though. I like my own space, allowing in only those I choose to let in. My habits are firmly embedded. Many things I do feel like I'm working on auto-pilot. And I love to comfort and nurture smaller, more dependent creatures (think grandchildren here! and kitty cats.)
       With Owen and Mzee both at work side by side in my brain, on my good days I'm my own best friend, asking for and receiving exactly what I need.. 
       As best as I can tell, Mzee and Owen are still living in Haller Park, Kenya.
                                                                   --stay curious
 

If everyone started off the day singing, just think how happy they'd be.
                                                                                    from Shine
                                                                           by Lauren Myracle     
       People are still remembering Frank Sinatra, even a couple of days past what would have been his 100th birthday (this past Saturday).
       When he was in the army, my dad almost met Frank Sinatra. The story goes, one of his buddies knew someone who knew someone on the set of the latest movie Frank was in. The friend of the buddy was supposed to be able to bring the soldiers backstage. They all met at the right time in the right place, but no Frank. My dad was disappointed about that for the rest of his life, but not bitter or angry..
       My dad had a beautiful tenor voice. He played the banjo, too. He was young way before garage bands were popular, but I bet he wouldn't have had one even if he grew up in the 50’s and 60’s instead of the 20’s and 30’s.      
      When I was growing up, we’d watch “Sing Along With Mitch” every week. I’d follow the little bouncing ball when I wasn’t quite sure what the words were or how they fit into the melody. My dad didn’t need to follow the bouncing ball to get the words in the right places. He just knew.
       He liked polka music. I do too. He liked the old show tunes and the new ones, too. So do I. He sometimes sang when we went on car trips. I love to sing in the car.
       Nancy Sinatra sang duets with her father. Natalie Cole could sing with her father because of the magic of recording and technology. I'm the only one who hears my dad’s voice, singing with me these last 32 years and one day. I’m listening, Daddy.  I miss you.
                                                                   --stay curious!
                                                                                                                                          

"All you need is confidence in yourself. There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is in facing danger when you are afraid, and that kind of courage you have in plenty.” 
                               the Wizard speaking to the Cowardly Lion in
                                                 The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
                                                              by L. Frank Baum

       I walked to and from elementary school every day. It was a pretty straight shot, only one turn. At the end of the day, a boy from my class plucked up some courage and asked me to walk home with him. He stomped through the snow (way past our knees!) ahead of me so I could walk in his tracks. About halfway home, we saw a dog coming toward us.
       My older sister taught me to be afraid of dogs, but that’s a story for a different day. This dog was big and blond. It loped toward us at about 50 miles an hour, tongue and tail wagging. It looked like it was smiling. “The better to eat you up, my dears!” Howie was looking back at me with so much horror on his face that I knew he was more afraid than I was. Unbelievable! but true.
       I did the only thing my second grade brain could think of. I told the dog in my best imitation of courageous forcefulness, “Go home, dog!” A miracle happened...it turned around and (probably) went home.
       In the middle of Hanukkah, in these days of miracles, I think of the courage of a small band of Jews, willing to die to preserve their faith. And the miracle--they defeated a whole army. They rededicated themselves to their way of life.
       Courage comes with many faces. Dogs are not armies, even big, blond dogs that smile. Although Judah Maccabee and his followers inspire me, I seldom feel courageous. I will work on that. 
 
                                                                   --stay curious!

  “I guess for most kids, imaginary friends just sort of fade away, the way dreams do. I’ve asked people when their imaginary friends stopped hanging around, and they never seem to remember.
     “Everybody said the same thing: I guess I just outgrew him.”
                                                     from Crenshaw
                                         by Katherine Applegate         Although I remember my kindergarten teacher as old and experienced, she often asked questions like, “Who left the crayons on the floor?” or “Who forgot to hang up his or her coat?” Our answers varied from “I don’t know” to “not me.”
       “Well,” she would say in her elderly, experienced kindergarten voice, “Mr. Nobody must have visited us again.”
       So when my mother asked, “Who forgot to turn off the light?” or “Who left the milk out?” my logical, kindergarten answer: “Mr. Nobody.” In all fairness, the answer sometimes was “Mrs. Nobody.” I had a good imagination and a knack for staying out of trouble.
       My brother had a fantastic imagination and, being the youngest, probably never even thought about being in trouble. He invented the Nobodies: Mr., Mrs., and their daughter, Karen. There were more siblings, but I’d have to research their names. The whole kit and kaboodle moved in with us.
       Living with my brother’s imaginary family led to my sketchy understanding of responsibility. I learned fast to evade blame and flummox fault-finders by pointing to Karen. As my brother’s friend, Karen with her broad shoulders and inexhaustible boatload of patience welcomed my sister and me into her fold. And Karen’s parents never interfered.
       Eventually I came to accept cause and effect, understand what it means to be culpable and relish the power of claiming my own actions, both wise and foolish. My brother grew into a responsible family man; my sister grew into a woman who could take care of the world. None of us named any of our children Karen.
       The Nobodies gradually faded into the scrim of time, probably moving in with some other unsuspecting family.
​       Ever wonder who keeps leaving the cap off the toothpaste?
 
                                                                   --stay curious!