Choices

After a day like today I miss Haifa with all my heart and soul. If I were there I would miss here, I know I would, but dear God, some moments I would like the opportunity to miss here in trade for being there.

My mind was blown today by finding out that because I love my county, love keeping those things local which should stay local, love justice and truth that I have a "pathological hatred" of the district attorney. His words, not mine. That frightens me.

Does he have a "pathological hatred" when he walks into the courtroom to defend our state's statutes and constitution? Doesn't he defend them out of love? Why would he assign hatred to me? I am so confused by this accusation. I perform best when I love hardest, not when I hate. Doesn't he do the same? Does he walk into the courtroom filled with hatred for the accused or love for truth and justice? Doesn't he want those two things to prevail? I know I do.

Thank goodness for grandchildren to keep things in perspective. I had three phones going today and my grandson underfoot. " 'Bika, you okay?" "'Bika kin I have some juice, pweaze?" "'Bika, you need shockolat? Let's have shockolat, it makes you feel better." Gotta love the kid, he knows what life's about.

I read where 'Abdu'l-Baha encouraged the children of his household to learn their prayers with encouraging rewards of sweets, dates, sugar chips, etc. I have sugarless chocolates for my tense moments (and those special womanly needs, you know) but I have taken to sharing my stash with my grandson in exchange for learning a line from a prayer. With his invite that "shockolate" would make us both feel better I took out a piece for us each. He received his and solemnly said, "Greater is God than every great one," and popped it into his mouth. I said, "Oh, good job and popped mine into my mouth. "'Bika!" he squealed, "say a prayer" as 'shockolate' juice ran down his chin. I quickly said, "I bear witness O my God, that thou hast created me to know Thee and to worship Thee." He nodded in satisfaction and said, "Good job, Beek!"

An appraisal by a disgruntled district attorney, an appraisal by a two and a half year old grandson. One of hatred, one of love. Hmmmmm, which one shall I accept? I guess I'll stay around for awhile longer.