News
InSpiration
Need a boost of personal InSpiration? Check out Anne's posts on FB and Substack or try A Minute of InSpiritry.
A Poem for Peacemakers
SAY THAT
In the census of cynics
and those who wish
for wars to end or men to see
beyond their cruel greed,
do not write our names.
Say that we have always known
wishing is not enough.
Instead, count us as laborers,
public servants, people who love
struggling children into new lives,
parents who pray for the safety
of families we have never met,
people willing to pay the price
to build peace in other places.
Say that we live eager
to share a meal or a mile or smile,
that our hearts cross borders
to resist the world’s bullies.
Speak our dreams as promises
to the neighborhood of nations
that our doors will always be open.
And when the time comes
for us to answer for our actions,
explain our sacrificial choices,
tell our stories, hold our truths,
resting in the legacy of living peace
and inspired by so many others,
let us respond by asking,
What else could we do?
InSpiring Speaker
Anne McCrady delights audiences as she Puts Words to Work for a Better World! In community groups, poetry gatherings, spiritual settings and classrooms, Anne's presentations open hearts and invite creative thinking! Contact her for booking!
A Poem In the News
Anne's poem, "Flowers Blue," appeared in 2021 in the Houston Chronicle and the San Antonio News-Express. In vivid imagery, Anne offers a poignant moment of childhood. Here is the poem. Enjoy!
Flowers Blue
Her little wheelbarrow
massages the moss path
that invites errant children
to run away from rules.
In her cart, jungle animals
stuffed soft as hugs
rock, as she pushes them
out to play singing
songs pulled from midair.
Adorned with flowers blue
as sky, her gingham dress
brushes against her legs
in swishes that set her listening.
At yard’s edge, honeysuckle vines
hungry for a gate to hold open
become a door of leaves
and trumpets, wild, inviting.
Gathering her menagerie
in a circle of little arms,
she enters and settles beneath trees
that have waited for a child’s heart
to be needy enough to seek darkness,
the shade pooling dense and cool.
Safe in the forest of forgiveness,
she rests and lets herself dream,
despite the summer heat
and a year of trouble
fiercer than any grownup
she knows can remember.
Earth Day Poems
Anne's poem, "The Weight," appears in the new Voices de la Luna Anthology, Earth in Peril/In Praise, which celebrates the 20th anniversary of Earth Day.
InSpiring Speaker
Writer and Speaker Anne McCrady delights and inspires audiences with her uplifting presentations! Contact Anne to Book an In-Person or Zoom Presentation Now!
Peace Poem for Our Time
Build a Bridge
Here I stand on my side
of the raging river
of difference, of division.
There you stand on yours.
The uproar from the rush
of trouble drowns any hope
of us hearing one other,
even as we both call out
what we think we know,
what we want to change.
How will we ever cross
this chasm between us?
What words could build a bridge
the ways things are now?
Wait, maybe this!
Search your heart.
Choose a sacred memory.
Hold it out to me;
I will hand you one of mine.
Let our listening be the rope
that ties our lives together.
This bridge will hold us!
We can meet in the middle.
It is long past time.
October Workshop
Join Anne McCrady for a Writing Workshop at the Tyler Museum of Art in coordination with the Literacy Council of Tyler - Sunday, Oct. 27, 2-4 PM, Free of Charge, RSVP with the Museum
Poem for Writers
Following a Line
It was you, always you
whose scent of muck and shallow
I loved and lingered after. You,
who led me out to the heaven
of still hours holding a line,
my eyes drawn down a length
of quivering monofilament
through the mirror of water
to the invisible fish below.
Later, it was you who listened
as I wished for something big to bite
instead of the minnow nibbles
that made me hungry with boredom and desire.
You, whose strength pulled me shouting to my feet,
set my shoulders square as I turned, turned
the resistant reel to haul in the prize
you promised patience would provide.
Even now, it is you—
your own pole long laid aside,
who is with me still in these long afternoons
of sitting beside the pond of literary purpose,
your steady voice reminding
me to stifle a rush to reason, to instead fish
for what catches in my throat, what feeds me,
by following a strong line deep into my own stillness,
where something consequential
will surely take the bait.
Art of Peace
Celebrate the U.N. Intl. Day of Peace with Art of Peace, Anne McCrady and InSpiritry in Tyler, TX, Sept. 15-22, 2019! Find out more at tylerpeace.com!
Peace Poetry
Poets, it's time to submit your Peace Poetry to InSpiritry's 2019 Art of Peace collection, Living Peace!! Submit here.
InSpiritry Peace Projects
Join Anne for Art of Peace, a ten-day celebration of the U.N. International Day of Peace, September 14-22! Find out more at www.tylerpeace.com!
See Anne's full calendar of events!
Contact Anne to book an appearance!
InSpiritry Presentations
Putting Words to Work for a Better World, Anne McCrady delights audiences with her InSpiritry programs, performances, workshops and inspiration. Contact Anne to InSpirit your next event!
A Poem for Travel
Escape
Let out to explore new places,
our whole bodies become ours again.
Cloaked in the anonymity of away,
without the false adrenaline of duty
marching us forward hurried,
our knotted shoulders unroll
into the soft posture of vacationing
couples whose sunlit day packs
are the heaviest burden
their backs must bear.
Unbound from everyday,
our empty hands dance open
recalling what they did naturally,
before they became machines assigned
to hold onto what we don’t want to lose.
Our best days are when we are strangers
lost in the landscape of new questions,
our schedules so loose that we lean our heads
to just listen...and find ourselves in love
with the possibilities of every sound
we hear: laughter, children, traffic, songbirds,
and the happy whir of our own thoughts
escaping the home of our heads.
Anne McCrady, 2016
Anne's Books
Anne McCrady's vivid poetry and unforgettable stories sparkle with meaningful moments to InSpire you! Her personal collections and anthologies that include her work are available from Amazon or you can contact her directly. Find out more!
A Wisdom Story
An aging spiritual master grew tired of his apprentice’s complaints. One morning, he sent the young man to get some salt. When the apprentice returned, the master told him to mix a handful of salt in a glass of water and then drink it. "How does it taste?" the master asked. "Bitter," said the apprentice. The master chuckled and then asked the young man to take the same handful of salt and put it in the lake. The two walked in silence to the nearby lake and once the apprentice swirled his handful of salt in the water, the old man said, “Now drink from the lake.” As the water dripped down the young man’s chin, the master asked, “How does it taste?” “Fine. Fresh,” remarked the apprentice. “Do you taste the salt?” asked the master. “No,” said the young man. At this the master sat beside this serious young man, and explained softly, “The pain of life is pure salt; no more, no less. The amount of pain in life remains exactly the same. However, the amount of bitterness we taste depends on the container we put the pain in." The master continued, "So when you are in pain, the only thing you can do is to dilute discomfort, enlarge your sense of this life. Stop being a glass. Become a lake.”
A Winter Poem
And We Need to Go Home
Every winter, clans of bears
curl up in the same caves,
their musk calling each other home.
In Spring, migrating birds
follow continental flyways
millions have mapped before.
Bees recognize their queen’s hive.
Old salmon lunge upstream
threading their own rivers,
led by the will to spawn.
We too, follow
some human compass
through genealogic geography.
Some voice of aging compels us
along memoried paths
back to old houses, weedy barns,
distant homelands.
Is it the instinct to speak
the unspoken, knowing
that some winters, the cold
wind takes health with it?
Do we feel the shifting
topography of forests
giving way to freeways?
Are we haunted by knowing
secret insults kill
bees and best friends.
Or seeing a familiar river,
are we reminded
that in the quiet shallows,
floating near their precious roe,
even the most devoted mothers
are dying? We are still the living,
and we need to go home.
Holiday Peace Poem
Esther’s Carol
O, weary women!
O, saddened men!
Join hands and listen
on this Silent Night
beneath the stars.
There is joy in the air
for those who have hearts
to hear the song of peace!
O, church and temple!
O, city square!
Light up the night
and hold us safe.
Unwrap good gifts
of sacred thoughts!
Ring out the news
that you believe!
O, Earth and Sky!
O, Life and Light!
Let love abound
in these troubled days,
that we might see
how we can rise
as sacred selves
in such a time as this!
Anne McCrady
Anne's Appearances
Anne will present East Texas stories ideas at the Heritage Syrup Festival tomorrow, Saturday, November 12. For all Anne's upcoming appearances, see her Calendar!
Poems of the Southwest
Anne has two poems featured in the new anthology, Bearing the Mask: Southwestern Persona Poems, from Dos Gatos Press.
What's Next?
Ambitions
Like pelting hailstones
of a downpour before dawn,
they wake us from the soft posture
of contented sleep.
Before we even know why,
we rise, stumble, shove
our feet into shoes,
hurry toward our hungers:
A new job. Another degree.
A run for office.
The perfect family.
A move to the country…
the city…the coast.
A dog. A lover.
An afterlife.
Oh, but what we must leave: the lovely
quilt that covers our memories,
the flannel sheets of who we really are,
the pillows that know our imperfect shape,
the body whose embrace holds us
tenderly night after night
spooning our dreams.
If we let our lusts lead us,
when the storm of our desires
finally subsides, when the wind calms,
when skies clear to reveal the here and now,
given the gnaw of our ambitions,
we can go back to bed…
but how will we ever
go back to sleep?
by Anne McCrady
Art of Peace - Tyler
Celebrate the United Nations International Day of Peace at the 6th annual Art of Peace - Tyler, TX. September 13-25, 2016. Visit TylerPeace.com
Peace Poetry Wanted
InSpiritry is accepting poetry submissions for the 2016 Art of Peace - Tyler peace anthology. Find out more!
Texas Poets Podcast
Winner of the 2016 Texas Spokenword Award for Top Poetry Program, InSpiritry's Texas Poets Podcast features conversations with outstanding Texas Poets.
In each Texas Poets Podcast, guest poets choose a poem they want to recommend; featured poems are read by the poet who wrote them. Host Dr. Stephen Souris keeps the tone of the programs conversational and friendly. Topics include the craft and creation of poetry, as well as the cultural and literary landscapes of Texas. Guests include Texas Poets Laureate along with other well-known and up-and-coming Texas poets from across the state.
Listeners can find the programs at TexasPoetsPodcast.com and at InSpiritry, with links to the audio of the programs, photos of guest and featured poets, and text of the poems discussed.
Created by Terry Jude Miller and hosted by TWU professor, Dr. Stephen Souris, each monthly program features a Texas poet discussing a poem by another Texas poet. InSpiritry produces the podcast series. Artistic advice is provided by Texas Poet Laureate and inaugural Texas Poets Podcast guest Karla Morton, with help from an advisory committee of poets, professors and teachers. KTCU and TCU Press in Fort Worth provide studio time for recording the shows, and public radio stations around the country help with recording the featured poems. Alex Souris serves as production intern with communication students at North Texas State University assisting with promotion.
Texas Poets Podcast is a labor of literary love, with ongoing expenses for hosting, recording and production. Listeners and poetry lovers can become a sponsoring supporter of this exciting project through the TCU online donor portal.
TCU Portal Form Instructions: Under the "Gift Designation" box, click "Other - User Input Texas." A text box will appear; type in "Texas Poets Podcast." Then complete each field that has a "red" asterisk (your phone number should have only numbers - no other characters). Click the large "CONTINUE" button in the lower right of the form and follow the instructions to complete your donation using your debit or credit card. Your donations are tax-deductible and go toward funding current and future podcasts.
Tax-deductible contributions may also be sent to:
TCU Press – Texas Poets Podcast
c/o Adam B. Baggs
Assistant Vice Chancellor, College and Regional Development
TCU Box 297044
Fort Worth, TX 76129
Poem for Summer Nights
Thunder Moon
The Texas summer heat
had become you: all angst and anger.
Cicada song, no more brittle
than your spirit against the blowing grit
of one more minute, one more day.
A rider thrown early. A farmer finished off.
Your fight for a better life, lost for good;
the future, stifling as a dust storm
on an open-windowed drive west.
You were through, whipped, all done,
until tonight – when, as proof that prayer
can divine God’s sweetest mercy,
July gives you its huge Thunder Moon:
a bronze beacon in gold leaf sky;
your heart’s darkness lit up
by streaks of silver heat lightning.
Too tired for talk, no taste for tears,
you undress yourself of opinions,
revisions, divisions, complaints.
Stepping out under the banner
of this victorious sky, your spirit
rises to the applause of crickets
and the forgiving coos of mourning doves.
Leaning back to look up into heaven,
you release every sorrow to a breeze
steeped in tea-colored moon shadow,
then drink in deep draughts of hope
sure as this Texas honeysuckled night.
by Anne McCrady
This poem first appeared in the 2011 Texas Poetry Calendar.
Dream Big!
You have so much to share with the world -- no one else has your gifts! Live your dream and InSpire others to do the same!
Planting Prayer
Alone in the tree-lined chapel
of this field of living things
that wait to bless and heal me,
let me create an altar of green.
Seeking mercy for my dormant heart,
let me sink my knees into damp dirt,
lean like prayer over the work
of seed, sprout, sod.
Humbly, let me dig my fingers deep
to sift the soil, as if my winter hands
will die without the supplication
of planting a new season.
May the hymns of sun and wind,
quiet my fears so I can hear
the sweet music of new ideas
suddenly freed to grow.
Let my bent back become a sign
of my Spring covenant, oh, God:
that I might yet be a good gardener
of the heaven I have been given on Earth.
A Family Poem
Lessons from My Father
Hearts, like clocks, are timekeepers.
Sleep is for when the patient is finally stable.
Work done well is as honorable as any medal.
The body is a mystery meant to be opened.
The mind has an unquenchable thirst for more.
The heart must hold onto beauty with fierceness.
Wealth depends on your definition of treasure.
Mothers (and fathers) of sixteen-year-olds sometimes die.
Cancer can only kill what it can control.
Memories are our most valuable legacy.
Our Memorabilia
Whether treasured antiques and precious letters -- or remembered regrets and stubborn grudges -- we collect things from the past. Make sure you keep only what inspires you!
A Love Poem
Second Chances
You may think you have exhausted love,
run it up and down the romantic stairs
of this infatuation and that curt dismissal
until it is breathless and weak-kneed;
that like a boot camp sergeant in the war
for second chances, you have drug it
one too many times through the mud
of drunken midnight rejection
so that it is ready to quit.
You have to admit: you have taken it
down the road from insult to injury,
ask it to go to the ends of the earth,
only to face the long walk back.
But has it ever failed you?
Has it ever let you down?
Not a chance. Admit it.
Love has toughed it out,
taking your lead
or leading you
as you followed your heart.
Puffy-eyed, hung over,
suffering from another breakfast
of ice cream and cold pizza
and surely deserving
of some time to sleep it off,
love is always there.
Early every morning,
it is up and dressed, on its feet
and out the door of your lonely house
with you running after it,
unsure of where you are headed,
but glad, oh so glad,
to be going.
Poem to Honor MLK
Peace Seeds
Like dandelion tufts set free,
let our dreams seed the world.
Let us release them
to be lofted on shifting winds,
carried on the coats of wolves,
flown in the feathers
of doves and, yes, hawks
to nestle in some fertile ground
to grow into a better future.
Standing atop mountains
of our sad excuses,
let us invite the truth
to chisel away the granite
faces of our prejudices,
dissolve our fears into
salt, sand, water, world.
Joined in a chorus, let us sing
our hopeful hymns on the open road,
in city centers and steamy jungles
where any hope of peace is still
a hand-to-hand proposition.
Expectant as ready children,
let our dreams leave home
to make their own choices,
while we, proud parents,
watch from the distance
of wisdom, knowing peace,
though deserving of honor,
like the next person hired
has to prove its worth
over and over again.
Anne McCrady
New Year - New Stories
You can make the new year the beginning of new life stories--new choices, new directions, new dreams! What stories will you write with your life in 2016?
Sacred Stories
Our most sacred stories are the ones that help us remember the past, explore our beliefs and make sense of the world! Holidays are a perfect time to share them! Learn how!
Life Stories
Your life has been full of challenges, surprises, changes and blessings. Tell your stories -- and share the joy of all those hilarious life lessons!
Poem for Autumn
Cold, Combustion
The air is full
of fire – sparks of leaf
fly, fall onto the brittle kindling
of drought-dried wilt.
Bellowed by bursts
of north wind, flames
spread until flecks of gold leaf
litter expanses of dry grass.
Carotene flickers, burns
green lawn into patchwork ground.
Even the pink dogwood,
whose passion-dipped petals
counted as icons of grace
last spring, has set itself ablaze:
a shimmering cascade
of drifting scarlet hearts.
Summer lovers caught
by this new cold, its combustion
rattles our seasoned composure,
reminds us that once change starts,
there is just no stopping it.
by Anne McCrady
appears in the 2016 Texas Poetry Calendar
Listen to this poem at SoundCloud!
2015 InSpiritry Peace Anthology
Poets Speak Their Peace!
InSpiritry will release the 2015 Art of Peace - Tyler peace poetry anthology, Intertwined, on September 8!
A Poem for Summer
Camp Song
In the pale light
of a canvas tent dawn,
cicadas kazoo
the last verses of their camp song,
that tinnitus of summer.
Hidden in beds of thin grass,
crickets whistle
their own tinny hymn,
and out by the pond
amorous tree frogs blurt
wet advances too late now
for evening love.
In the dim air,
dashes of new sun backlight
leftover brown bats catching
the last slow mosquitoes,
while mockingirds breaking
their full moon fast
fly from feeder
to field to feeder.
A redwing cries;
a woodpecker tattoos
the trunk of a water oak.
Hummingbirds buzz
the butterfly bush.
Jays puncture the air,
and in the oldest pecan tree,
two squirrels run
spiraled wind sprints,
risking the attention
of the new puppy
sleeping at the feet
of a woman who sings
to meet the morning.
by Anne McCrady
appears in Letting Myself In and Her Texas
Ideas for InSpired Living
Right where you are, wonderful people need your concern, your ideas, your help! Reach out to them, and find encouragement for yourself at Anne McCrady's InSpiritry blog!
A Poem - Fishing
Following a Line
It was you, always you
whose scent of muck and shallow
I loved and lingered after.
You, who led me out to the heaven
of still hours holding a line,
my eyes drawn down a length
of quivering monofilament
through the mirror of water
to the invisible fish below.
Later, it was you who listened
as I wished for something big to bite
instead of the minnow nibbles
that made me hungry with boredom and desire.
You, whose strength pulled me shouting to my feet,
set my shoulders square as I turned, turned
the resistant reel to haul in the prize
you promised patience would provide.
Even now, it is you—
your own pole long laid aside,
who is with me still in these long afternoons
of sitting beside the pond of literary purpose,
your steady voice reminding me
to stifle a rush to reason, to instead fish
for what catches in my throat, what feeds me,
by following a strong line deep into my own stillness,
where something consequential
will surely take the bait.
by Anne McCrady
Appeared in The Enigmatist, a Pushcart Prize nomination
Read more of Anne's poetry or listen to them!
A Poem: Making a Home
We Arrive as Strangers
Masons and carpenters by nature,
we make a world of where we are.
Stone by stone, we set in place
the things that keep us grounded:
a window facing east
trees we planted
children and their dogs.
Board by rough-edged board,
we build a house to hold our days
and their better companions, our dreams—
a place big enough for abundance
and small enough to insist
we keep only what matters.
As years add to years,
we furniture our love-worn rooms
with stories, heirlooms
so precious that we polish
their patina with holiday retellings
and late-night revisions.
And, once in a while,
when the earth shifts
or our hearts leap with desire,
we throw open the front door,
load our stones and boards and stories
into the wagon of tomorrow
and head out into the world
to find the next place that needs
someone to call it home.
by Anne McCrady
from Letting Myself In
What's Your Story?
What a life you have had! Just think of all the things you have overcome to be where you are today! You are absolutely inspirational! Celebrate the story of your life -- your beginnings, endings, transformations, transitions, loves, losses, discoveries and dreams. Your own experiences are proof of the strength of your spirit and the power of believing in possibility and change! People need to hear your story and to be reminded to tell theirs. InSpire your friends, family members, coworkers and social media contacts -- share your inspirational story!
Start Today!
An old wives tale claims that whatever you do the first days of the year will foretell how you will spend the year. Just in case it's true, take time today to laugh, say of prayer of gratitude, taste something delicious, share your love and be yourself! Happy New Year!
A Poem: Welcome to a New Year
Like a young poet in love,
sing the lovely stanzas
of your amazing future
as the lyrics to a new song.
Proudly wear the paper
party hat of happiness.
Blow the horn of humor
in blasts exuberant
as a New Year’s noise maker.
Fill balloons with gratitude,
breathe them like helium,
then squeak with joy.
Take the people you love
to the park, the church,
the theater, the bookstore.
Let your dreams dance
like kites in the blue sky wind
of what might happen next
until the bright strings tug
in your gentle hands
as you make one final wish
before letting them fly.
Anne McCrady, 2015
Bright Futures - A Story of Hope
Landlords are often given a glimpse of the hardships that families endure. The best do more than complain about late rent payments. In Harrisonville, Missouri, one such landlord was called to an apartment to fix a leak. When the mother of two children let him in, he immediately noticed there was no furniture in the home: no bed, so sofa, no chairs and no table. After making the plumbing repairs, he felt he had to do something to help the family. He knew of an organization in town that often helped families with children who needed housing or food or transportation or medical care. He called them. The staff at the agency posted the need to their member organizations. Within days, they were contacted by many people in the community who could help furnish the home. Once the furniture was gathered, kind-hearted volunteers even helped move in the items. On top of that, the landlord even stayed after all the ‘movers’ were gone to help set up and arrange the furniture. The family was thrilled to finally feel like they had a real home. The landlord didn't have to care enough to get involved. He didn't have to take the time to find assistance for the family. But he did! Each of us are confronted every day with people who need our help. Like that landlord, will we care enough to take a risk and ask if we can help -- and then follow through? Like Bright Futures, will we take the time to connect with community groups to make a difference? When we are in need, like that family, will we open our hearts to let strangers help us? Will we see each child as a child of ours? I hope so -- oh, I hope so!
This true story comes from Bright Futures USA, an organization that networks to use the synergy of all the resources of a community to impact the lives of children. Find out more at their website!
Anonymous Gifts - A Story
It was December, just twenty shopping days until Christmas. A young couple with two small boys dreaded the approaching holiday season. They were already having trouble making ends meet, so buying the expensive toys their sons wanted would be impossible.
Then, just a week before Christmas, halfway to work, the man had a flat tire. He called his wife to say he tried to put on the spare, but it was flat too. Just a few blocks from work, he decided he would leave the car in a parking lot and walk the rest of the way. They agreed she would pick him up at the end of his shift. Late that night, she carried the sleepy boys to her car and drove out into darkness. With Christmas carols playing on the radio and the burden of their finances on her heart, hot tears ran down her face. When her husband got in the car, he too looked exhausted by their dilemma. As they drove home, they held hands in silence.
The next morning, when they arrived at the parking lot to get the tire fixed, there was an envelope under the windshield wiper of the car. Inside was a hundred dollar bill with a note: Just in case you need a new tire. Stunned, they looked around to see who might have left the money, but the parking lot was deserted. The tire turned out to be easily patched, and they used the money to buy groceries and two small gifts to put under their Christmas tree for their young sons.
Years later, when the boys were older and finances better, each Christmas, they told the story of that flat tire as a reminder of the blessing of generosity and kindness of a stranger. And every Christmas, they tried to follow that example by helping someone without letting them know who they were. It became their family's favorite tradition.
Who can you bless with an anonymous gift this holiday season!?
2014 Comes to a Close
As this year ends, savor the lovely candle glow of your favorite moments, memories and miracles, and enjoy Anne's December Blogpost! Happy New Year!
A Poem: Peace! Joy! Love!
In Candle Glow and Choir Song,
In Places You Know You Belong,
When Frantic Preparations Cease,
Oh, Friend, May You Find Peace!
In Laughter and in Life's Embrace,
In Smiles that Light Up Every Face,
In the Hopes of Little Girls and Boys,
Oh, Friend, May You Find Joy!
As You Open Gifts and Give Them Too,
As the Season Brings Its Best to You,
Like the Sweet Descent of a Sacred Dove,
Oh, Friend, May You Find Love!
Anne McCrady, 2014
Holiday Gift Ideas
Give the gift of words! Anne McCrady's poetry books and story collections make wonderful holiday gifts! Contact Anne for a signed copy! Happy Holidays!
InSpiritry Writing Sessions
Give yourself the gift of an afternoon of creative writing and meaningful conversation! Contact Anne McCrady schedule an InSpiritry Writing Session for your group!
Story: Dressed for Success
Fall, with its colorful scenery, bright days and cool nights, is good time for starting something new: a school semester, an artistic passion, a job. That was on the mind of a woman who left work early to visit resale shops, looking for bargains. It was a good time for her family. One of her children was starting college. Another had just gotten a great new job. Her oldest daughter was a new mother. As she browsed the aisles of gently used clothing and household items, she was feeling grateful for these new opportunities for her family.
At the end of the men's clothing aisle, she noticed a scruffy young man looking through the racks of clothes. He looked at one shirt, then seemed uncertain and chose another one. As she approached, he held up a plaid shirt and a pair of slacks. She was surprised when he looked helplessly at her and asked, “Do these go together?” The woman laughed, "No, not really!" His rumpled appearance reminded her of so many teenagers she had befriended in her small town, boys who just needed a little guidance and attention.
Smiling, she said, "What kind of event is this for?" As she helped the young man choose a matching outfit, he told her his story. He had dropped out of high school and been out of work a while. He had been staying at the nearby Salvation Army center after he lost his apartment. He said he was finally getting a chance to apply for a job the next day, and that a local community group has given him a voucher for clothes for his interview. The woman took on her familiar mother role and had him try on pants and shirts until she was satisfied.
After they had agreed on his selections, they walked together toward the counter. The woman noticed his worn out tennis shoes. She stopped him and asked, "What about shoes and a belt and tie?" The young man dropped his head, "No, my voucher won’t cover that." Thinking of her own children the woman was overwhelmed with compassion. Cheerfully, she led him back to the men’s department to pick out a pair of dress shoes, a leather belt and a navy tie.
At the counter, they put his voucher and her cash together to pay for their purchases. As the cashier handed him his sack of clothes, the woman quietly pulled a ten dollar bill from her purse and pressed it into his hand. Smiling, she said, "Good luck tomorrow. Use this to get some lunch after your interview." He suddenly hugged her, then laughed. "I think I already got my good luck when I met you! And I promise once I get the job, I will think of you every day when I get dressed to go to work!"
Waving goodbye and getting into her car, she watched him walk happily back toward the Salvation Army center. Sitting for a moment, the woman said a prayer for the grateful young man...and for her own children...and for everyone who gets a chance to make a new start!
Thanks to Beca McKamie for this heart-warming story!
A Poem for Fall
County Road 240
Like farmers in red flannel shirts,
sweet gum trees chat in fencerows
beside the winding county road.
Full of stories from the struggles of summer,
they lean against the dusty forest,
their pockets heavy with harvest.
Jostled by gusts of November’s insistence,
they practice tossing prickly fruit
into wheat-colored baskets
of waist-high ragweed and Johnson grass.
When a cold blast bears down
like a locomotive, the woods shake out
blankets of live oak leaves
in preparation for company
and all heads turn to meet the arrival
of the mail order bride:
a blue norther all the way from Canada,
a dry blow sure to stir up a ruckus
as it wraps the last stray lint of autumn
around a line of splintered cedar posts,
clears the evening sky like a broom
and sends stray dogs and husbands
home for supper.
Anne McCrady, from Letting Myself In
Time for a Change?
The leaves are changing with the season. Maybe it's time for you to make a change too! Get outside. Try something new. Find a new direction. Be You!
Join the Crowd!
Fall is a great time for festivals, fairs and neighborhood gatherings. Make this the month to enjoy the people and places around you!
A Peace Story
The Willow Leaf Eyebrow is a beautiful story from ancient China, a poignant tale of love, forgiveness and healing. Enjoy Anne's telling of ithis timeless tale at the new story sharing site, StoryPress.
Be a Peacemaker
Let go of anger -- Reach out to others -- Listen to people's stories -- Share generously -- Celebrate your ideas -- Do something new -- Resist fear -- Make connections -- Cross boundaries -- Belong!
A Poem for Peace
Directions to Peace
Start early.
Leave the house
of your hopelessness.
Wear only clothes
that are comfortable.
Go calmly to the home
of those who seem to hate
Carry a small gift
or piece of fruit
suitable for sharing.
Greet your host
with expressions of peace.
Upon entering,
remove your shoes
and your grudges.
Take the chair
that is offered to you.
Eat what is served.
Listen to stories
with the delight
of a child. Laugh,
at yourself.
Stay as long
as you need to.
Promise to return
the favor of friendship.
Keep your promise.
Anne McCrady
*won The 2011 Burning Bush Poetry Prize
*appeared in 2012 Voices Israel Anthology
A Poem for Conflict
Soften
Like butter, warmed,
pour your words
if you want to be
heard, heeded, taken
to heart, understood.
Soothe your stance.
Relax the taut tendons
of your back and feet.
Keep deep beliefs.
Lighten your lofty hold
on heaven; earth
with its round belly
and rumpled clothes
is worth embrace.
Slow your days.
Sit in the sun.
Take a walk.
Whistle a tune. Say
you will stay a while.
Depend on your faith.
Consider failing.
Go forward knowing
you speak honestly
with yourself.
Be more like butter;
want to be spread around.
When times are hard, soften.
This is what she told me.
She being me.
Anne McCrady
Peacemakers are Heroes!
Each time you are kindhearted, merciful, optimistic and generous, you help make this a Better World! From all of the rest of us - Thanks!
Be Open!
These are the real enemies we should fear: Crossed arms. Clinched fists. Squinted eyes. Closed minds. Locked Doors. Gated streets. Reach out to the people around you - Be Open!
A Story for Hard Times
A Carrot, An Egg & a Coffee Bean
A young woman went to her mother and told her how sad she was about the world’s conflicts, how mad she was at people who she didn’t agree with and how hard it was to see a bright future. She wanted to give up, She was tired of the fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose. Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil; without saying a word...
In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked,' Tell me what you see.' 'Just carrots, eggs, and coffee!' she asked.
Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft.
The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hardboiled egg.
Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, 'What does it mean, mother?'
Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: the boiling water. Each had reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak and mushy. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, like an angry person, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water for a while, they had changed the water into something delicious. 'Which are you?' she asked her daughter. 'When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do you wilt and lose your strength? Are you the egg that starts with a soft heart that hardens when conflict arises, even as your shell look the same? Or are you like the coffee bean? The bean doesn’t fall apart and it’s doesn’t turn to stone. Instead of being changed, the coffee bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, the coffee releases its fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you do the very job you were meant for, you change the situation around you. May we all be COFFEE!!!!!!
Eating Can Be a Celebration
Fresh food is so beautiful: bright colors, interesting shapes, amazing flavors. This summer, get in the kitchen with someone you love. Cook great meals that celebrate life and enjoy every bite!
Poem for Summer
On Our First Hot Day
I lean over a terra cotta dish of limp daisies,
my gray sweat-shirted arm, the trunk
of an elephant that ends in a nozzle
I point at the waiting white-petaled heads.
Lumbering along in my loose yard shoes
to our monkey grass encircled annual beds,
my dusty blue cotton bathrobe drags
across the morning grass.
I point my hose at the thirsty plants,
twist to widen the rope of water
into a spray of cool mist that coats banks
of marigolds set beneath an arc of parrot colors.
All around me, the jungle of summer
has begun to swell under the sun’s encouragement.
White heat awakens every seed and blossom,
and elephant ears sway to listen for the call
of water splashing as each mouth opens
in thirsty invitation. And the sleepy god
who offers up these showers? Full of gratitude,
I spray an arc above us to conjure a rainbow.
Anne McCrady
Make Someone Smile
Your world is full of people who add joy to your life! They smile, laugh, listen, invite and hug. Return the favor: look for creative ways to tell them how grateful you are!
A Joy-ful Story
Looking With the Heart
A few months ago, I asked as my daily InSpiritry Question for the Day: "What do you see when you look out your kitchen or dining room window?"
Some people described their back yard. Others described the weather or the buildings nearby. Many mentioned Nature. Several writers gave poetic depictions of the scenes beyond the glass.
One woman wrote: "I see the morning sky and I see trees colored by the sun and I see birds of all sizes and beauty. I also see....love and I see hope and I see encouragement and a world just waiting to be served and give service. I can truly see PEACE."
What an answer! This woman didn’t just tell us what she saw with her eyes – the trees lit by sun and birds of all sizes – she shared what she “saw” with her heart! She described a vision of love, hope, encouragement, mission and peace!
Reading her answer, one might think, “What a beautiful place her yard must be! What a lucky woman to live surrounded by such inspiration.”
The depth of her answer is in the rest of the story. I happened to know the woman who answered my question by saying, “I can truly see PEACE!”
Amazingly, she doesn't have an expansive landscaped yard. She lives in a small condominium. Her little breakfast room does have a window – I suppose the one she described – but it faces a 6 foot tall wooden fence with an apartment complex on the other side.
There are a few trees beside the apartment buildings and birds do come to her little hanging feeders, but the love, hope, encouragement, mission and peace she described are all things she, not the view out her window, bring to the world.
Her joyful response to my question is a reminder that, no matter what our eyes see, when we look with our hearts, the world is a beautiful place!
Father's Day Year Round
Fathers are so special! There are also other men in your life who have encouraged you. Take time this month to thank them -- and to pass on their inspiration!
Happy Father's Day, Mom
In 1974 when my father died, he left behind five teenagers for my mom to finish raising alone. We had some rough times getting through those years, but we made it with our family not only intact but thriving. Several years ago, when all five of us were married with children of our own and Mother had become an even more amazing grandmother and later great-grandmother, I had an epiphany about Father's Day.
I was in a gift shop one June looking through the selections. A greeting card display reminded me that Father’s Day was approaching, and I sunk into a moment of sadness over my early loss. My thoughts were interrupted when a young girl near me complained out loud that all the Father’s Day cards were so masculine. Not sure how to respond, I asked what kind of card she would prefer.
“I don’t know,” she explained. “Something pastel, I guess. My amazing mom may have to be the mother and the father for me, but her favorite color is still pink.”
I was struck by her affection for her mother and her insight into her mother’s dual role. I was also reminded of how many times my own mother had managed to serve as a father figure. Forgetting what I had come to buy, I began searching for just the verse to let Mom know what I have since told her and other amazing women I know:
The saints we know as single and widowed moms deserve to be remembered not just on the second weekend in May each year but also a month later on Father’s Day!
Poem for June 15
Lessons from My Father
Life is a butterfly, don't dissect it.
Hearts, like clocks, are astounding machines.
Sleep is for when the patient is finally stable.
Work done well is as honorable as any medal.
The body is a mystery meant to be opened.
The mind has an unquenchable thirst for more.
The heart must hold onto beauty with fierceness.
Wealth depends on your definition of treasure.
Mothers (and fathers) of sixteen-year-olds sometimes die.
Cancer can only kill what it can control.
Memories are our most precious inheritance.
Anne McCrady
Seeing Your Story
The stories of our families, our memories, our accomplishments and especially our struggles can encourage others. You are living an InSpirational Life - share it!
Conquering Your Fears
Spring is a great time to cross the suspension bridge of life in a new place, a new job, a new endeavor, a new relationship! You can do this -- enjoy the adrenaline rush and feel alive!
Poem for Facing Change
Bridge
Like the invitation to a new life
that brought you to where you are,
on this day that is one of many
rivers that you have faced alone
and managed to survive,
love stands on the far side
of a Colorado canyon bridge
having crossed it with less care
than you cross an empty street.
Arms outstretched in the open air
that feeds your fear of falling,
love calls your name
with all it has to offer you:
something sturdy and beautiful
in a world of illusions.
Knees dissolving above feet
that want and do not want to go,
you resist your compulsion to look
Then, just before you are sure
you might die, you do it.
Leave one place. Step toward another.
Anne McCrady, 2014
Feel Alive!
When You Need Courage, Look Around You: People You Know are Inviting You to Resist Fear and Live Your One Complicated, Terrifying, Wonderful Life!
Get Ready to Grow!
It's March and things around us are greening up! Use these first hints of spring as inspiration for your life: Awake, Renew, Grow, Open, Bloom!
Planting Daffodils
When we moved into our new home, August had wilted the shrubbery and dried up any flowers. The fall brought a frost that finished off most of the green in the yard. Winter brought a palette of grays and browns. A nature-lover, I longed for the inviting beauty of perennials and annuals I had carefully planted around the house we sold to move. My sense of loss underscored a general sense of looking back and missing life as it had been. Then, one day, as I sat writing while looking out the window at the stark sculptures of empty oak trees above a dormant lawn, I was startled by a surprise! Near a large tree, slender tongues of green were pushing up through the moist soil and dried grass. I jumped up from my chair and ran out into the yard to look closer. What I saw overjoyed me! Across the yard, around each tree trunk, were the insistent sprouts of dozens of bulbs. Someone before me had also needed a reminder of spring's arrival, had knelt in the dirt and planted the bulbs even as frost was coming, and had given me this blessing for my spirit. I imagined a woman like me needing Nature's miraculous renewal. Within a few days, the lovely green blades gave way to a sea of yellow as blossom after delicate daffodil blossom bobbed and swayed in the sun. Walking among them and writing in view of them gave me new inspirations, new ideas, new perspectives. I turned my focus toward the future and felt its possibilities; I let go of my longing for the past. Of course, as life moved on, the daffodils faded, but I did not forget them. When the next fall's colder days arrived, wanting to add my own effort to that of the previous owners, I knelt as a kind of prayer to plant my own daffodil bulbs among the others. Now each March those bloom too and the bulbs have multiplied their beauty! This is how life is, I think. We can either mourn what we don't have anymore or just accept the way things are even if we aren't happy -- or, in the midst of personal winters, we can take action to make the future brighter for ourselves and others. I have kept the act of planting daffodils as an inspiration: use every day to plant for spring! Today, it's early March and hundreds of daffodils are blooming, and I am celebrating how beautiful life can be!
A St. Patrick's Day Poem
Greening
By the Ides, we gauge our days
against the rising line of sunslant,
count each icy storm as our last.
Donning green on St. Patrick’s Day,
at altars and on trudges to barns,
we dare to ask for warm blessings
in a world still stubbornly dormant,
until, slow as a son learning his lesson,
the red stem of the thermometer blooms.
Mudcrust dissolves into slush,
frozen creeks give way to flow
and, magically, lacey fiddleheads
unfurl like girls on Easter morning.
From deep in pine-mulched beds,
pink crocus shout, surprise,
and, along the road, redbuds
write their melodies on the clefts
of winter-emptied trees. Though we weep
and wheeze with the season,
we know miracles begin here:
Green follows the gold of pollen.
Barren ground gives way to seeds.
And mushrooms bloom in dew-soaked soil.
As we head to the garden to turn
the soil for another year, thrilled
as new parents, we pucker our lips
to mimic the fiddler’s tune our father whistled
on his way out the back door to dig
each splendid March – his Irish lilt,
the surest sign of Spring.
Love, Love, Love
In this month of Valentine's Day, let someone know you love them -- they are waiting to hear it! And if you need inspiration, read Anne McCrady's poetry about loving the world!
A Valentine's Day Poem
Every
True love is a house
where every room blooms
with carnations and roses,
and the table is set for two
with flickering candlelight
that welcomes us home.
True love is a sunny Saturday
in a crowded store gone pink
with every aisle full
of Valentine’s Day
cards, ruffled boxes
of chocolate truffles
and every girl's boyfriend.
True love is an elementary school
class party with sprinkled cupcakes
and boxes of poetic candy hearts
that promise every girl
has a secret admirer
and every single boy
is loved forever.
Anne McCrady
Your Amazing Smile
Your smile - it's so beautiful! Everyday your wonderful smile is our source of encouragement and joy. People you don't even know are blessed! Keep smiling -- so we can smile too!
A Friendship Story
Two people sat in a local coffee shop: one writing, the other reading. Both were feeling alone in their worlds after personal losses. The woman, looking up from her journal, noticed the novel the man was holding was by one of her favorite authors. She asked him what he thought about the book. The man, answering, noticed her journal was full of poetry and simple drawings. He loved the writing, he said, because it was so poetic. They began talking about other things they enjoyed. That afternoon began weekly meetings in the same place at the same time. Over time, their conversations led to a deep friendship and a sense of belonging, even as their separate lives brought changes and choices. Today, still friends these many years later, both of them count that chance encounter in the coffee shop as their reawakening to the importance of close friends and to the good news that the world is full of gentle people waiting to be invited in to our lives!
A Poem for the New Year
We Arrive as Strangers
Masons and carpenters by nature,
we make a world of where we are.
Stone by stone, we set in place
the things that keep us grounded:
a window facing east
trees we planted
children and their dogs.
Board by rough-edged board,
we build a house to hold our days
and their better companions, our dreams—
a place big enough for abundance
and small enough to insist
we keep only what matters.
As years add to years,
we furniture our love-worn rooms
with stories, heirlooms
so precious that we polish
their patina with holiday retellings
and late-night revisions.
And, once in a while,
when the earth shifts
or our hearts leap with desire,
we throw open the front door,
load our stones and boards and stories
into the wagon of tomorrow
and head out into the world
to find the next place that needs
someone to call it home.
To read more of Anne McCrady's poetry, click here!
A Listening Story
An old folktale features a farmer who comes to visit his friend in the city. As they walk through the busy market, the farmer notices the cheerful song of a nearby cricket. His city friend is amazed that he is able to hear the cricket above the noisy street. “It is not hard to understand,” says the farmer. To make his point, the farmer holds a coin up and then drops it on the ground. As the coin clinks against the pavement, everyone nearby suddenly stops to look for the money. “You see,” says the farmer. “It all depends on what you are listening for.”
I think it is worth asking ourselves: which character in the story are we? What in the world are we listening for? Of course, the corollary is: What have we not heard?
How often our ears catch every get-rich, get-thin, get-hip, get-happy message, while we never even notice the spoken needs of our family, our friends, our neighbors or our community! We have even taken our selective hearing to a global level: we hear the insults, the threats, the defiance of people in other places, but somehow miss the expressions of sadness, fear, loss and desperation spoken by those same people.
We listen for what we value -- and hear what we listen for! If the clink of a coin is all it takes to turn our heads, we will foolishly miss the quiet cricket song of what really matters most!
To enjoy daily InSpiritry messages, connect with InSpiritry on FaceBook and Twitter!
The New You!
It's time! Time to begin 2014, the year you become even more amazing, even more creative, even more loving, even more inspiring! Let the celebration of the New You begin!
Anne's New Book
Anne's newest book, Letting Myself In, is a collection of poems that will open the door of your heart to the poignant and transforming life transitions of everyday life. Published by Dos Gatos Press, these poems are a reminder that every day we are all leaving one place and arriving somewhere else. Read a review, purchase your own copy or enjoy excerpts from some of the poems or find out to find out about Anne's other books and CDs.
A Holiday Story
THE TASTE OF CHRISTMAS
Some Christmas traditions are carefully handed down from one generation to the next; others develop gradually, usually because of something we did that ends up blessing us in some powerful way. Our family’s favorite Christmas tradition is one of the latter.
When my husband and I moved some years ago, we were totally overwhelmed and exhausted by his new medical practice, stacks of boxes to unpack, and keeping up with three small children. We both wanted to be parents who created wonderful family memories, but with so many commitments it seemed impossible. Luckily, dozens of our new friends ready to lend a hand lived nearby. Our next-door neighbors on one side welcomed our middle son for backyard gardening and an occasional trip to town. Our neighbors on the other side kept their kitchen door open for cookies and punch. Down the street was a man who loved when the children helped him with jigsaw puzzles. Nearby was another precious couple who made each of our children birthday cakes, and around the corner was Mrs. Hooper, a widow who sat near us at church and loved having company.
One year a few days before Christmas, on a night when my husband was able to get from the hospital to be with us, I decided to repay the many favors our neighbors had done for us. I bundled the children in their warmest clothes and took out my guitar. Together, we walked the neighborhood, ringing doorbells and singing carols to the wonderful people who had become our adopted grandparents. Everyone was so glad to see us! Some invited us in; others gave us candy canes or hot chocolate. It was so much fun we decided to do the same every year. One holiday evening as we finished our night of caroling at Mrs. Hooper’s house, singing the last chorus of We Wish You a Merry Christmas, Mrs. Hooper opened her door and handed us a metal pie pan wrapped in foil. An envelope was taped to the top of the frozen contents. “Merry Christmas!” Mrs. Hooper said, smiling. “You’re so busy, and my own children have always loved these.”
As soon as we got home, we read the note: Keep this pan in the freezer. During the day on Christmas Eve, move it to the refrigerator. On Christmas morning, as soon as the first child is awake, set these out in a warm place to rise. By the time all the presents are open, it will be ready to go in the oven. Merry Christmas!
My children immediately lifted the foil and peeked inside. It was full of frozen homemade cinnamon rolls! Not only did I not have time to bake, I didn’t know the first thing about how to make homemade cinnamon rolls! It was a perfect gift.
A few days later, as we wrapped presents on Christmas Eve, I took the foil pan out of the freezer as directed. At our Christmas Eve church service that evening, we sat with Mrs. Hooper and her family. My children excitedly told Mrs. Hooper they couldn’t wait to eat the cinnamon rolls the next morning. That night, when I put the kids into bed to listen for Santa’s sleigh, they reminded me not to forget about our special breakfast. I promised I wouldn’t, but by the time my husband and I had finished putting toys together and setting gifts under the tree, I was exhausted. I fell into bed, forgetting to set the alarm. The next thing I knew, light was streaming in the windows and three small children were jumping up and down beside our bed.
“Get up!” They shouted. “Santa came! It’s time to take out the rolls!” As they scrambled into the den to see what was under the tree, I quickly set the cinnamon rolls on top of the dryer and turned it on. In the den, we all took turns opening packages and showing everyone our gifts. When everything was cleaned up, we remembered the rolls. Everyone ran to check. “Wow!” My two-year-old son Patrick shouted. “It’s magic!” his big brother Andy added. “Look how big they are!” With the heat of the dryer, the rolls had puffed up inside the pan. Once in the oven, the magic continued, filling the kitchen with the delicious warmth of butter and cinnamon.
At our Christmas table that morning, still exhausted, I was grateful to Mrs. Hooper. As we bit into the delicious rolls, I looked around the table at the precious, sugary faces and tears came to my eyes. I had never known either of my grandmothers, but I was sure this must be one of the best parts of having a grandmother, even an adopted one. As soon as breakfast was over, we called to thank Mrs. Hooper and to let the children tell her about their other Christmas gifts. Mrs. Hooper was delighted.
For the next decade, well in advance of Christmas Eve, Mrs. Hooper called us to pick up our pan of Christmas cinnamon rolls. And without fail, we called her on Christmas Day to thank her for her breakfast rolls and to share our holiday with her. Then one year, my husband, who also doubled as the physician for many our adopted grandparents, told us that baking had become too much for Mrs. Hooper. “I don’t think she’s up to making our cinnamon rolls this year,” he said quietly.
My children, college students by then, were heartbroken. Mrs. Hooper’s rolls and the Christmas morning phone call had become a very important part of our family’s holiday routine. The following year, my daughter, Kate, home from school for the holidays, took up the challenge. “We will just have to learn to make cinnamon rolls ourselves,” she explained. And so we did! My kitchen ended up completely dusted with flour by the many less-than-appetizing batches we tried in our efforts to get them “just like Mrs. Hooper’s.” Even the men in our family got into the act, rolling out the dough and devising an extra sweet mixture to spread inside the spirals. Best of all, it was something fun we could do together.
These days, with in-law children added to our family, we have many Christmas traditions we love: caroling, church services, story-themed trees, gingerbread houses and toys for grown-up kids. Still, our favorite tradition is spending one day each December in the kitchen mixing and kneading and rolling dough, and one hour each Christmas morning at the breakfast table together, telling stories and delighting in the remembered taste of friendship. The best part of our story is that a good deed came full circle the next year when my children delivered delicious “Mrs. Hooper Cinnamon Rolls” to Mrs. Hooper herself!!
This true story first appeared in the anthology, Christmas Traditions. Contact Anne about sharing her stories at your next event!
A Holiday Poem
HOMECOMING
We have journeyed the distance of another year
How comforting to find the lights of Christmas,
bright as a beacon, calling us home from our travels.
Older, wiser and full of stories to tell,
now we have the gift of time
to lean our backs against one another,
wrap our hands around cups of warmth,
look long into faces we have missed,
listen to adventures that somehow mirror our own.
Now we can open the lovely bundles of our hearts
letting tears and laughter spill out—
our assurance that no matter how far we go,
it is love, always love, that is our port, our shelter,
our humble, starlit stable.
A Winter Meditation
Renew your holiday spirit with this prayerful thought:
In this special season
of holidays and holy days,
long nights and cold mornings,
year-end tasks and busy lives,
let me shine the Light of Life,
share the Warmth of Love
and give the Gift of Peace.
May you be blessed and also be a blessing!
Happy Holidays!
Anne McCrady
InSpiritry for You
Want to InSpirit your next event?
Anne McCrady is booking InSpiritry poetry, storytelling and motivational presentations for 2014!
Be InSpired!
Peace is a Marathon! Watch this InSpiring TED Talk by Lebanese peacemaker May El-Khalil!
A Story of Courage
Anne met Nobel Laureate Rigoberta Menchu at the 2007 International Women's Peace Conference in Dallas, Texas. Her InSpiring story is one of family tragedy, personal courage and passion for justice!
As a native child in Guatemala, Rigoberta experienced first hand the violence of government troops. She witnessed the kidnapping and deaths of her father and brother as well as the rape and torture of her mother who subsequently also died. Her determination to change the oppression of native peoples became a lifework as she spoke out, rallied citizens and ran as the first woman candidate for the Presidency of Guatemala. No matter what dangers she faced, Rigoberta remained committed to her people, to justice, to peace and to making her country a better place.
In 1992, she was recognized by the international community with the Nobel Peace Prize. Her presentation at the International Women's Peace Conference was a high point of the global event.
InSpired by meeting Rigoberta, Anne kept the story in her heart and has shared it often as an InSpiritry narrative of hope and courage.
