TheBanyanTree: It's a Test

[Indiglow]

Nancy, I sooo love this!  It's true, it's sometimes difficult to love like the example we were given...  but these "tests" give us opportunities over and over again to give it a shot.  I love you, dear heart.  And I so love the heart that is willing to love and accept the marganalized!  I figure if a Jewish carpenter can love the marganalized (as evidenced by the stories) then I should be able to give it a shot...  and you are totally awesome for doing so!
Hugs,
Jana

--- On Tue, 12/6/11, NancyIee at aol.com <NancyIee at aol.com> wrote:


From: NancyIee at aol.com <NancyIee at aol.com>
Subject: TheBanyanTree: It's a Test
To: thebanyantree at lists.remsset.com
Date: Tuesday, December 6, 2011, 1:02 PM


It’s a Test

There is a woman in the choir who cannot read a note of music, and it  doesn
’t even matter for she’s always way off key. Her attendance is perfect,  
she’s there at every practice and every Sunday morning, and she tries to be  
friendly by telling everyone more than anyone ever wants to know about her  
job-seeking ventures and the antics of her cat. She speaks too loud in a  
language not all can understand, for her diction and grammar leave much to be  
desired. And her place to stand and sing is right next to me.

Others complain that she cannot follow the song, and her missnotes disrupt  
their own concentration as we practice to blend in and harmonize. I grow  
impatient, myself,  when I try to help her and she says, yes, I understand,  
and then sings it all wrong again. When we perform before the congregation 
or go  somewhere to perform a concert, she is always there.  We might sing 
like  angels, but there is always the obvious overtone of one note out of sync.

Long ago in history, I was a teacher of intellectually challenged children. 
Some could read. Some could print their names. Others learned to tie their 
own  shoes. Some only listened without expression. I learned more from them 
than they  ever did from me. One parent, when asked by someone who viewed 
those children  unkindly, asked, “how can you keep doing it?” The parent 
replied, “It’s a  test.”

I have remembered that line, and whenever I meet someone difficult, or  
contrary and with whom I must communicate, I hear my heart beat, “it’s a test.”
  Can I be a person who accepts those who are different, difficult, 
differently  talented than I? Can I improve my skills at patience and compassion?  
Will  I learn to measure up?

When we get together to sing,  the music is sublime, the message  
compelling. We sing of a birth and the hope for peace and world sanity. The  chords 
are mighty and perfect, the melody ringing out clearly, except for one  
singer out of tune. I realize that not only do we need harmony, all singing in  
the same tempo, we also need those who sing something different. Someone who  
cares to show up every time and contribute. Someone who has the passion to 
do  good in her own way. Every voice counts, even those who do not sing 
exactly  perfect. And, for the rest of us . . .

It’s a test.

Nance