I originally wrote this to my daddy for Father’s Day a while ago. However, today is his birthday and I am using it again (with slight modification) because all that was true then is true still today.
Happy Birthday, Pop. I love you.
Barbi

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Reflections on a Father's Day in 1998

My small neck angled backwards to see what blocked the sun,
It was you, looming protectively like a silhouetted guardian angel.

Fat feet on your shadow, in frenzied pursuit behind,
I tried to keep up with you, just to be a part of that bigness.

Skinny arms raised in hope, eager to be swung above your head
I knew you were Hercules, conquering a dozen labors.

Child heart brimming with pride, anxious for your approval,
I struggled to live up to what I thought were your dreams for me.

Untrained mind ever questioning all mysteries of the universe --
except one: I knew your pride even when you didn’t say it.

What's Not to Like?

"The Episcopal Church continues to focus on its mission of reconciling the world, particularly as it cares for the least, the lost, and the left out. We participate in God's mission to heal the world as we feed the hungry, house the homeless, educate children, heal the sick, and seek to change the systems that perpetuate injustice."

(For the rest of the Reflection by The Most Reverend Katharine Jefferts Schori, Presiding Bishop and Primate of the Episcopal Church go to http://www.episcopalchurch.org/pb.)

In the words of Jack Leo Iker, Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Fort Worth, “what’s not to like?”

For Hate is Strong and Mocks the Song

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound the carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn, the households born
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) wrote this poem in 1864.