I’ve spent a lot of years, now, reading and rereading The Complete Tales of Winnie the Pooh, featuring Pooh, his pal Piglet and the rest of their cohorts from the Hundred Acre Woods.
It’s a good thing I’ve never tired of either him or his pals.
Actually, the longer I read, the more I notice the mighty amounts of wisdom coming from that bear of very little brain…
I’ve read them to kids from other cultures, impromptu-like and on-the-fly-translated to French (in a less than stellar fashion, too, I’m quite sure)! Even rural Gourmantche kids from the backside of the desert got a kick out of the pictures and my awkward, unprepared translations.
Surprisingly, Pooh Bear is quite culturally adaptable. He just rolls with whatever adventure comes his way in a surprisingly positive and yet matter-of-fact way.
I’m trying to take lessons from him....
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It seems strange that this is the post scheduled for today...
Because today certainly doesn't feel like a favorite day in any way, shape or form. I'm in Southern Illinois for my grandfather's funeral and so feel as though I'm fighting tears or comforting kids dripping in tears a large chunk of the time. At the same time, I'm wondering about a very unimportant-in-the-grand-scheme-of-things-detail - our home for this year. Shortly after we took off for this trip, large storms raced through our town and one result is that we know the power is off at our house - and my husband's dad was restricted from accessing the area, at least yesterday. So everything could be fine at home or it could be a mess. We just don't know.
I guess it is an opportunity to practice this very thing I wrote about as we celebrate the life of one of the best men I've ever had the opportunity to know, and I got to call him Pop-pop!
Head on over to a life overseas: the missions conversation - to read all about the talk I'm trying to walk...
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