Christmas Is the Time For Love, and Giving...Real Love

You have heard the old saying that oil, and water, don't mix; and its true. But here is a new one for you; love, and words don't mix. Anyone can say "I love you"; but, does that make it so? Not necessarily. We all probably have had past lovers, that spoke these words, but didn't really mean them. If love can't reliably be shown by words, how can you tell if someone loves you? Simple, by their actions. Love can only truly be shown through demonstration.

Whatever the relationship, love is always shown by one's actions. What good would it do for an infant to have it's mother, tell it how much she loves it, without the mother feeding, cuddling, nurturing, and paying attention to it? This is true with any relationship, parent-child, husband-wife, siblings, and our relationship with God.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, well, a sincere gesture, or sacrifice, is worth a thousand love poems.

Love, is always a giver, never a taker. Love, does not take offense, and love is patient. Love does not change, even if people do. To love is to care, and to not care if it is reciprocated. True love, is not decided on the whims and desires, for it is eternal.

Everybody wants real love, but how many are ready to give it?

I'm Dreaming Of a Green Christmas

I wrote this when I was 13.

I'm dreaming of a green Christmas
Unlike any other that I know.
Who wants to shovel, and have to hovel
To keep warm out in the snow.

I'm dreaming of a green Christmas
with every Christmas card I write
May your days be merry as they seem
And may all your Christmas' be green.

Since I moved to the Homestead/Miami area 15 years ago I get my wish every year. Merry Christmas to all of my friends whether you like it green or white. Mike

Wilbur and Us Chapter 8...."Mrs. Pulee"

Life in Homestead/Miami was idyllic, but very different from our life in Rochester. The weather was sunny and pleasant everyday, and I adjusted to working at MIA quickly. The one major adjustment we had to make was the language; almost everybody spoke Spanish, not English. Sure, most of the Latinos could speak English when they wanted to, but most of the time they chose not to. It was the first time we experienced what it was like to be, and to be treated like a minority. It was indeed an eye opener! I tried to take it all in stride, but Rhea had great difficulty trying to accept being treated like a foreigner in her own country.

Life at home was a little different. We were blessed to have two great next door neighbors. On the east side of our house we had Ed, a retired Air force lifer, who now worked the midnight shift for the postal service. On the west side we had Mrs. Pulee, and her son James. They were Indian Hindus who had become American citizens. Both of our next door neighbors spoke English, which was a great relief to us.

Mrs. Pulee was indeed a delight to have as a neighbor; she was very nice, and very polite, and she adored all of our animals, especially Wilbur. She was in her middle seventies when we moved in, but she was quick of mind, and loving in her personality. She took a shine to Wilbur from the day they met. Everyday she would get picked up by the Senior Center bus, and everyday she would bring treats home from the Senior Center for Wilbur. Since Wilbur adores treats, he quickly took a shine to Mrs. Pulee.

One day after work, I was sitting on the back porch having a beer and relaxing. Wilbur was over by Ed’s side of the house sunning himself, when all of a sudden I watched him get up and start trotting across the back yard. “This is strange” I thought to myself, I had not seen Wilbur move this fast since we were trying to catch him as a piglet. As Wilbur crossed the yard his speed picked up. “What the hell is going on?” I thought to myself. I looked all around to see what the hell spooked Wilbur in this way, but there was nothing to see. Wilbur got to the fence next to Mrs. Pulee’s yard and stood there with his tail swishing back and forth excitedly. Just then, the back door of Mrs. Pulee’s house opened, and out walked Mrs. Pulee! “Hello Wilbur” she said, then she saw me, “Hello Michael, how are you? I hope you don’t mind but I brought home this cheeseburger I couldn’t eat, and thought I would give it to Wilbur.” Wilbur just stood there with his tail swishing, and I just stood there with my mouth agape. “No, no not at all” I stammered. She proceeded to unwrap the cheeseburger, and broke it into pieces that she fed to Wilbur.

I looked on with mixed emotions as Wilbur scarfed down the cheeseburger. My first emotion was astonishment, “how in hell did he know Mrs. Pulee was coming out that door?” My second emotion was extreme envy “Damn, I’m hungry, I wish she had offered me that cheeseburger!” The thought that Wilbur might be psychic seemed ludicrous, but I could not figure out how Wilbur knew that Mrs. Pulee was coming out that door with a treat for him.

To this day, I still haven’t figured that out.

That whole first year Wilbur got bigger, and bigger until he got over 300 pounds. Money was tight, and we fed Wilbur the same dog food we gave the dogs. We didn’t realize that Wilbur should have a diet more digestible for a pig than dog food. By the time our first Christmas in Miami approached I remarked “Santa should bring Wilbur some leg extensions because his belly is dragging on the ground.”

Not only was Wilbur getting big, but his hormones were kicking in. Wilbur was starting to get amorous with the dogs, and the furniture. We now began to understand why the lady who sold him to us recommended strongly that we get him neutered. Ooops!

Next: Wilbur becomes an outdoor pig.

Kreskin's ESP Kit, Part 1

This is the first part of a trilogy of true stories. Take them as you will.

Back in the mid-sixties, a guy named Kreskin was very popular. He would go on all the popular talk shows and do feats of ESP. My dad said he was a quack, but I was much more open-minded about it than he. I was, in fact, intrigued with Mr. Kreskin. My feelings were, if ESP is real, why not develop it? I had nothing to base these feelings on, other than a child's naivete.

Then, Christmas of 1965, my dad bought a "family" Christmas present. It was a Kreskin's ESP Kit. In this kit there were probably seven, or eight different ways to test your ESP. The pendulum was the most popular; everyone could make it swing by concentrating on it. That was cool, but then my dad pulled out a deck of cards from the box.

Since all the other kids were off playing with their other presents, and I was the only one near him (fooling around with the pendulum), he called me over. He read the instructions and said, "I'm supposed to look at a card, and send it to you mentally. You try to receive it." I said, "OK, let's try."

He took a card, looked at it, then said, "Here goes nothing." I could see he was really trying to send me the image, so I decided I was really going to try and get it. I closed my eyes real tight.

You know how when you close your eyes really tight, you see little squiggly things? Well, I saw thousands of squiggly things. All of a sudden, all the squiggly things formed a whirlpool, spinning around, until they formed a perfect heart! My jaw dropped to the floor. "It's a heart!", I blurted out. My dad (a little taken aback) said, "You're right; how did you know?" I said, "Dad, I saw it!"

I think my dad laughed it off, but that moment changed my life. From that moment on, I "knew" ESP was real. At the tender age of ten, I then bought any book on ESP and occult I could get my hands on. I had a small library of occult books by the time I turned 17.

At that time I was very interested in astral projection. However, in 1972, there were very few "how-to" books on astral projection. One day at Walden books, while looking through the occult section (now called New Age) I found a book entitled, "Eckankar, Key to Secret Worlds" by Paul Twitchell. In this book Mr. Twitchell talked of "soul travel". I, of course, equated soul travel with astral projection and bought the book immediately.

This, once again, changed my life forever.

Part 2
Part 3
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