Seedlings

The Dream Box

“The greatest achievement was at first and for a time a dream…in the highest vision of the soul a waking angel stirs.  Dreams are the seedlings of realities.” — James Allen

 

It was a parochial school near the center of Denver, Colorado.  98% of the second grade students in this classroom were “school lunch eligible”, meaning their family’s income falls below the poverty line.  I was an observer in the classroom as the teacher delivered a lesson on “setting goals”.  The teacher finished and invited the five adults in the back of the classroom to mingle with the students and to admire their Dream Boxes.

I had noticed a Hispanic boy a few rows in front of me.  He had raised his hand enthusiastically each time the teacher had asked a question but never been called upon.  I approached his desk and said, “I’m Mr. Warnick, what is your name?”  Jose grinned shyly as he uttered his name.

“Jose,” I asked, “what is this box on your desk?”

“That’s my Dream Box,” he replied, slowly opening the box to reveal a variety of rocks and other stuff.  The sides of the box, top and bottom were covered with pictures cut from magazines and other material and then pasted on as a collage of dreams and goals.

“Looks to me like you like rocks, Jose”.  “Yeah,” he smiled, “I want to be one of those rock scientists when I grow up.”  “A rock scientist….do you mean a geologist?” I inquired.  “That’s it….I want to be a geologist.”  Our conversation turned easily to a short discussion of what he would have to do to become a rock scientist.  He was going to have to study hard, get good grades, so he could get into college and study for five or six years more to become a geologist.  I was amazed at the clarity he had and how his teacher had helped him discover the steps he would need to take to reach his goal.

How did a seven or eight year old gain this clarity and set such an audacious goal? 

It started with a shoe box.  Each student brought a shoe box to the second grade classroom.

Next, his teacher brought magazines, Sunday newspaper advertising inserts, and anything else she could find that was full of colorful images.  The students were asked to dream about what they wanted to become when they grew up, to think about things they wanted to do, places they wanted to visit or see, or people they wanted to meet someday.  Finally, they were asked to cut out pictures from the magazines and advertising materials which could tell a story about what they were fascinated by, what they wanted to learn more about, the places they wanted to visit, and things they wanted to see or do.

So Jose’s box was adorned with pictures of mountains (“they are full of rocks” he told me) but it also included a soccer ball (“I want to play soccer…maybe if I’m good enough I can get paid to play soccer in college”), pictures of Disneyland and Disney World, and a picture of the Pope and the President. 

And, inside of box were at least ten different rocks that Jose had collected since the start of second grade.  He could tell me if this rock was igneous, metamorphic or sedimentary and where it came from.

This summer I’m going to pull my eight and nine year old grandchildren together for cousin camp.  I’m going to either bring shoe boxes or perhaps we’ll go buy some shoes they’ll need for school this coming fall.  But with those shoe boxes I’m going to ask them to dream…dream big…dream about the things they want to do, the places they want to visit, the people they want to meet, and what they want to become.

I believe these dream boxes are the seeds of future greatness.  They are a powerful visual reminder of the freedom we enjoy to dream and achieve.  Everyone should have a Dream Box, not just second graders.  What would your Dream Box look like?  And how might it influence the next five, twenty-five or fifty years of your life?

An Elder's Prayer

 

Isabel Miranda is a remarkable serving professional who calls New Jersey and New York City home.  She has a depth of compassion for the young and the old.  This Seedlings Blog posting is her adaptation of a prayer offered by a 17th Century Catholic Nun.  It will increase our desire to live with greater grace, humility, vision and wisdom.

 

An Elder’s Prayer*

As I contemplate I see that I am growing older and will hopefully someday be old.

May I be saved from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion;

May I be released from craving to straighten out everyone’s affairs;

May I be thoughtful but not moody;

With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all; but I do want a few friends at the end.

May I be free from an endless recital of endless details; may I have wings to get to the point;

May my lips be sealed regarding aches and pains, as they are increasing and my love of rehashing them becomes sweeter as the years go by. 

May I have grace enough to endure with patience others’ tales of their infirmities;

Although I realize that diminishing memory is a reality, may I have a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others.  May I understand the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken;

May I be reasonably sweet, I do not want to be a saint, some of them are so hard to live with- but a sour old person is one of the crowning glories of the devil!

May I have the ability to see good things in unexpected places and talents in unexpected people and may I have the grace to tell them so!!!

 

* Isabel Miranda, an attorney and former trust professional in New York City and New Jersey, was touched by the prayer of a 17th Century nun.  She adapted the prayer to create this meditation for seniors who aspire to be elders.

 

Guest Blog - Lessons From a Venerable Old Gentleman by Scott Farnsworth

This Guest Blog comes from my friend, Scott Farnsworth, founder of the Sunbridge Legacy Builder Network and initiator of the Priceless Conversations which were the inspiration for the Purposeful Conversations we use to help clients create Purposeful Gifts & Trusts.  You can learn more about Scott and his work by going to www.sunbridgenetwork.com.  This post describes a remarkable lesson which occurred one Sunday morning as Scott and his wife, Marcie, were racing to their church.  It has a surprise ending so please be sure you read the entire post.

We were rushing down a narrow road on a sunny Sunday morning.  Marcie had taken longer to get ready than usual, and with her arthritis, she requires a little extra time to get to the car.  I was intent on making up the time as we left for church.

In Central Florida we often must slow down to accommodate our senior citizens.  But when an old timer stepped onto the highway directly ahead of us that morning, it irritated me.

His grey suit was rather worn and tattered and his gait was a bit stiff, but he held his head high.  His air of authority left me no choice but to hit the brakes.

“I wish this old fellow realized we’re in a hurry,” I blurted.   

“Honey, just be patient,” Marcie counseled.

He walked across the first lane, then halted squarely in the middle of the road, fully erect.  A car from the other direction was also forced to stop. 

“The nerve of this character!” I said.  “He acts like he owns the place.  Now he’s got the whole road blocked.”

He looked back over his shoulder.  Our gaze followed his to see his partner was a few yards behind him, limping slowly and with great effort. 

“Look, he’s stopping traffic so she can cross safely,” my wife observed.  “What a sweet, caring gentleman.”

Looking more closely, we discovered why she was hobbling. 

I saw she had no foot on her right leg, just a stump.  “Oh my gracious, she’s walking on a stump!”

It took several minutes for her to pass in front of us.  Only when she was safe did he leave his post in the middle of the road.  Then they continued on their way, side by side. 

Watching them together, my impatience dissipated and my heart melted at this amazing example of devotion and commitment.    

But now let me share with you the rest of the story.

The venerable old gentleman was a sand hill crane.  Around here, we see these birds frequently and virtually always in pairs.

That’s because sand hill cranes mate for life.  They are fiercely protective of their partners.  They care for each other even when their coats are not as shiny and their bodies not as perfect as they once were.  They do not abandon companionships that become dated or difficult or inconvenient.  They remain loyal to the end. 

This gentleman’s example of commitment and compassion and selflessness is one that all of us would do well to emulate.  In our culture of throwaway relationships, it’s reassuring to be reminded by a so-called “lesser” specie that, even through thick and thin, marriages can last a lifetime — perhaps an eternity.

The Eaglets’ Dilemma

“The greatest revolution of our generation is the discovery that human beings, by changing the inner attitudes of their minds, can change the outer aspects of their lives” - William James

I was inspired by a story by Tom Reilly entitled The Power of Attitude.  I have taken the liberty of adapting and shortening the story, so that it reads as follows:

The time had come for the three eaglets to stretch their wings and experience flight for the first time.  Their parents asked if they had any questions:

"How high can I fly?" inquired the first eaglet.

"How wide can you stretch your wings?" asked their mother.

"How much can we achieve?" the second eaglet asked.

"How much can you dream?" smiled their father.

"How far can we travel?" asked the third eaglet.

"How distantly can you see?" responded their father.

"How long can I fly?" the young eaglet persisted.

"How long do you want to be gone?" their mother replied.

Frustrated by his parents’ questioning replies, the third eaglet demanded, "Why don't you answer our questions?"

"We did."

"But you answered them with questions.  You are our parents.  You’re supposed to know everything.  If you don't answer our questions, who will?"

"You." Their father calmly replied.

"Us? But how?" the first eaglet testily probed.

"No one can tell you how high to fly or how big your dreams should be. Only God knows your potential and what's in your hearts. You alone can discover the answer to these questions.  The only limiting boundaries to your life’s journey is the horizon of your imagination."

"Look to the sky, spread your wings, and fly."

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.  So throw off the bowlines.  Sail away from the safe harbor.  Catch the trade winds in your sails.  Explore.  Dream. Discover”—Mark Twain

 

 

Count Your Generosity

"The hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings"—Eric Hoffer

One of the songs I learned early in life at Sunday School was “Count Your Blessings.”  Research, such as the work of Dr. Robert Emmons documented in Thanks – How the New Science Can Make You Happier shows that doing so makes us happier.  But more recent research suggests that in addition to counting our blessings, we should count our generosity.

Researchers Adam Grant of the University of Pennsylvania and Jane Dutton at the University of Michigan recently published their research studies which demonstrate that thinking about times when we have given to others is more effective in promoting generosity than counting our blessings. 

In their first experiment, Grant and Dutton studied fundraisers whose job was to solicit alumni donations to support various programs at a university. The researchers randomly split the fundraisers into two groups.  One group wrote journal entries about recent experiences of feeling grateful for receiving a benefit.  The second group wrote journal entries about recent experiences in which they made a contribution which enabled other people to feel grateful.

The researchers then measured how many calls each fundraiser made in the two weeks before and the two weeks after the week that they spent journaling.   The fundraisers who wrote about giving increased their hourly calls by more than 29% in the following two weeks.  The fundraisers who wrote about receiving, however, showed no change in the number of hourly calls made.

In a second experiment, Grant and Dutton randomly assigned college students to one of three groups, requiring them to list three ways they had recently given help, list three ways they had recently received help, or list three different foods they had eaten in the last week.

When the participants came a few weeks later to pick up their payment for participating in the study, they were given a form describing the March 11, 2011 earthquake and tsunami in Japan. On the form, the participants were asked whether they would like to donate any portion of their $5 payment to an earthquake relief fund.

Overall, 26% of the participants donated some amount of money. Similar to the results of the first experiment, participants who reflected on giving were significantly more likely to donate (46.15%) than those in either the beneficiary (21.43%) or control condition (13.33%).

Self-reflection about giving can be a powerful tool for motivating generosity and volunteerism.  If we want to encourage others to serve and assist others, it may be worthwhile to encourage them to reflect about what they have previously given to others—not just what they have received from others.

"Remembrance is the seed of gratitude, which is the seed of generosity"—Henry B. Eyring

The Path to Achievement: Lessons from the Life of James A. Michener

“Achievement without knowledge and hard work seems to me impossible” - James A. Michener 

James A. Michener is perhaps the second or third most popular author ever in the genre of historical fiction.  He was known for sweeping sagas, covering the lives of many generations, and set in diverse geographic locales.  Among the more than 40 best-selling books he authored are Centennial and Tales of the South Pacific (which would inspire the Broadway musical South Pacific). 

Michener recognized the value of work and education.  His prolific writing allowed him to acquire substantial wealth.  During his lifetime he gave approximately $8 million dollars to establish an art museum in the small town he had grown up in.  At his death, he left his entire estate (reported to be $10 million dollars) to his alma mater, Swarthmore University.

Perhaps the most profound piece Michener would ever write, in terms of life wisdom, was entitled “The Path to Achievement” and appeared in a condensed version in the January, 1977 edition of the Reader’s Digest.  I would like to share some excerpts from the experiential reflections James Michener shared about how he acquired the powerful work ethic and thirst for education which led to his ultimate success as an author.

Michener was adopted into a large family.  His widowed mother did “sweatshop sewing of the cruelest kind, yet saved enough to send six children through high school and two through college.”  At the age of 11, James worked six days a week during every summer and delivered newspapers seven days a week during the winter months, rising at four every morning.  At age 14 he was apprenticed to a plumber and worked ten hours a day during the summer months and four in the winter.  Reflecting back on the rough circumstances he grew up under, he noted: “Instead of turning me against work, this ingrained in me the attitude that sensible people work hard to attain sensible goals.”

James Michener then described what he considered the pivotal experience in developing an authentic work ethic.  His family fell temporarily apart and he was placed in the local poorhouse.  Here he bunked with a group of “memorable old men” on the top floor of the poorhouse dormitory.  As he listened to these derelicts describe the specific disasters which had overtaken them, Michener concluded most of them had failed because of their inability to work intelligently.  This experience generated a “positive reverence for work” and helped him see that work was the “principal means whereby people achieve what they want and avoid what they do not want.”

In 1977 Michener had detected a trend in which “many of our best young people are questioning the assumptions of the Puritan work ethic.”  He respected “the young person who has the courage to keep casting about until he or she finds work that is meaningful.  But in looking, one should also be learning.  The only way to attain the goals of which the youth speak is to acquire the necessary training.”

Michener’s story probably triggers lots of memories of what chores, tasks and jobs we tackled in our youth and what lessons we gained from these experiences.  Today’s economy and labor laws may make it more challenging to “give” our children job experience at an early age. 

What types of opportunities are you creating for your children to help them discover “The Path to Achievement”? 

Let us realize that the privilege to work is a gift, the power to work a blessing, and the love of work is success.” - David O. McKay

Star Trek, Cadet James Kirk and the Kobayashi Maru Scenario

“Man’s mind stretched to a new idea never returns to its original dimensions” - Oliver Wendell Holmes

The Kobayashi Maru scenario was the most challenging of Starfleet Academy's training exercises.  You may recall how this test forced cadets into making what was considered a no-win decision — rescuing a disabled ship in enemy territory while risking their own ship and crew, or leaving the disabled ship, thus ensuring its crew's destruction and starting a war.

Young James Kirk was the only cadet who ever won the war game.  He did so through his out-of-the-box, positive thinking.  Kirk’s rejection of the possibility of the no-win scenario is a model for inoculating ourselves, and our children and grandchildren, against learned helplessness.

It is very easy for any of us to fall into thinking and feeling we are trapped by our current circumstances.   Unfortunately, it is much more difficult for us to shed the gravitational force of learned helplessness.

I recently read the autobiography of a man who was considered one of the finest constitutional scholars in the U.S.   I was startled to learn he struggled in elementary school.  The third and fourth grades were particularly difficult for him.  His fourth grade teacher would insist on grading tests out loud and then announced the results in front of the entire class.  If there were 20 questions, this fourth grader usually got 15 wrong and placed at the bottom of his class.  But then he fell under the influence of Miss Pearl Schaefer, a fifth grade teacher whose love, confidence and challenge helped this young boy discover the joy of learning.  The rest is history. He went on to become a superb law student, a law professor at the University of Chicago, president of a major university and much more. 

How can you and I become Pearl Schaefers?  Not just for fifth graders, but for anyone we come in contact with who is struggling with learned helplessness?

“If you're going to be passionate about something, be passionate about learning. If you're going to fight something, fight for those in need. If you're going to question something, question authority.  If you're going to lose something, lose your inhibitions.  If you're going to gain something, gain respect and confidence. And if you're going to hate something, hate the false idea that you are not capable of your dreams.” - Daniel Golston

Three Red Marbles

“The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.”—Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Three Red Marbles story is one I first heard many years ago.  A friend recently shared another version of it with me.  I’ve taken the liberty of shortening it a tad but hope it still penetrates into your heart as deeply as it does mine.

I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed a small boy, ragged but clean, hungrily surveying a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the grocery store owner) and that small boy next to me.

"Hello Jimmy, how are you today?"
 
"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya."

"How's your Ma, Jimmy?"

"Doin’ better Sir.  Gittin' stronger alla' time."

"Good. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?" asked Mr. Miller.

"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."

"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

"All I got's my prize marble here."

"Is that right? Let me see it" said Miller.

"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."

"I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?" the store owner asked.

"Not zackley but almost . . .";

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble", Mr. Miller told the boy.

"Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller."

I moved to the check-out counter where Mrs. Miller, who had noticed me absorbing the dialogue between Jimmy and her husband, proudly said, "There are two other boys like Jimmy in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Tom just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store."

I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with Tom Miller’s compassion. A short time later I moved to Colorado but as the years passed I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.

Last summer I returned to that Idaho community for a family reunion and learned that Mr. Miller had died.  Several members of my family were going to the visitation.  So I went along to pay my respects to this fine man.  Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to greet Mrs. Miller and offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line I noticed three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts . . . all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, who was standing by her husband's casket.  Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved next to the open casket.

I noticed that one by one, each young man stopped, briefly placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket, then moved on to leave the mortuary, wiping his eyes.

As Mrs. Miller greeted my relatives and then me, I reminded her of that story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she led me to the casket.   "Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Tom "traded" them.  Now, at last, when Tom could not change his mind about color or size . . . they came to pay their debt."

"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Tom would consider himself the richest man in Idaho."   With loving gentleness she lifted his lifeless fingers. Resting underneath were three shiny red marbles.

 

"Our days are numbered. One of the primary goals in our lives should be to prepare for our last day. The legacy we leave is not just in our possessions, but in the quality of our lives. What preparations should we be making now? The greatest waste in all of our earth, which cannot be recycled or reclaimed, is our waste of the time that God has given us each day.”—Billy Graham