helpers | The Direction of Intention

Peri Winkle Rabbit [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on November 15, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

The birds on a wire brought my Periwinkle book to mind. Context is everything. It is now as relevant as the day I wrote it:

Peri Winkle Rabbit was lost.

All the other animals were lost, too!

There had been a fire. Peri Winkle was asleep when grandpa Harry Winkle Rabbit shook her awake and said, “RUN!”

Peri ran. At first, Peri ran with her mom and dad, her sisters and brothers and grandpa Harry Winkle, too.

All the other animals were running, too, the deer and the bears and the foxes and the squirrels. Some were running in circles but most just ran away from the fire.

It was confusing. There were so many legs and paws running this way and that. Peri could no longer see her parents. She couldn’t see her brothers or sisters. Even grandpa Harry Winkle Rabbit was nowhere to be found.

Peri stopped and got knocked down. She hopped back up and called out for her mother. She called for her father. She couldn’t see them anywhere.

A great paw scooped her up and she was suddenly eye to eye with a bear!

“This is no time for still standing, little ears!” said the bear.

“I can’t find my family,” squeaked Peri Winkle Rabbit. The bear was holding her very tight.

“We’ll find your family, little ears,” puffed the running bear, “But first we have to find a place safe and beyond the fire.”

The bear held Peri Winkle Rabbit close to his chest. Peri could hear the boom-Boom of the bear’s big heart as he ran swiftly away from the flames. Peri Winkle Rabbit felt so sad and so tired, she couldn’t help it when she fell fast asleep.

“Good morning, little ears!” The bear smiled as Peri blinked open her eyes.

“Where am I?” asked Peri.

“I don’t rightly know, “ said the bear, “but we’re now safe and far from the fire.”

That’s how Peri Winkle Rabbit came to be lost. She looked around and saw that the forest was gone! The other animals looked and they saw it too. All the green was now black and the mighty trees were charcoal twigs twisted in ruins on the ground.

The animals started to cry. Even the big bear cried. Peri cried, too. Together, they made lots of loud crying sounds and it felt good to wail the loss of their forest home.

And then, they each told their stories of escape from the fire. They told of their lost homes and missing family and friends. They told the stories of their cuts and their bruises, their fears and their worries. They told of how they came to be together, in that place at that time. Peri Winkle Rabbit told her story, too.

“What do we do now?” a red fox asked, which was exactly the question that Peri Winkle Rabbit was thinking!

No one said a word for a very long time. They looked at each other, all covered in soot, dirty and singed and ruffled and tired.

“Well,” a great ram began, “I am sure footed, I can help carry what’s needed.”

A hawk landed on the ram and said, “I can see far away and can help find your missing families and friends.”

The great bear said, “Yes, and I have a nose that can smell good smells for many miles, I will help supply all of my new friends with food!”

“I can gather nuts!” cried the squirrel, rubbing his nose with his hands.

“I have great ears!” cried Peri Winkle Rabbit! “I can hear what is needed and help find who can do it!”

And all the animals offered their great gifts in service to their new friends. They slowly began to do what was needed with whatever they could find. They found water and food. They found shelter from the rain. They looked for their families. They made new friends.

“Remember, a forest must grow back slowly, one day at a time,” said the bear when Peri felt impatient.” Our job is to help it grow.”

“It is all different than before,” said Peri, suddenly missing her old home.

“Yes,” said the bear. “We are all different now, little ears. The fire has changed us forever.”

Peri Winkle Rabbit wrinkled her nose.

The great bear smiled and hugged her close, saying, “Now might be the time for still standing, little ears, we don’t want to miss the lessons of the fire.”

So together Peri Winkle rabbit and the great bear sat very still, listening to the forest and thinking about all that had happened. And though she didn’t quite know where she was, Peri Winkle Rabbit wasn’t lost anymore.

A one-copy book made for a child who lost their family during Hurricane Katrina. I’ve never published the full text but thought it was time. I included photos of a few of the pages.

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blog about BIRDS ON A WIRE

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Filed under: Gratitude, Identity, KS Friday, Metaphor, Power, Story, The Direction of Intention | Tagged: artistry, change, children's book, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, disaster, forest fire, found, friendship, grief, help, helpers, helpful, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, lessons, listening, lost, service, story, studio melange, support, survival, the melange, togetherness, trauma | 5 Comments »

See The Angels [on KS Friday]

Posted on July 14, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Like most people I have had some dark nights of the soul. Fortunately, I also have a life rich in beacons, special people that shine bright and light the way in my darkest hours. Best-of-all, my beacons are visible on sunny days, too. Some of my beacons have been around for the long haul. Some show up in a moment and disappear as fast as they appeared.

It’s hard not to believe in guidance when surrounded by so many living lighthouses.

Once, on a snowy day in a local store called PeaceTree, the man behind the counter told Kerri that she was surrounded by good angels. It was a comfort and gave her courage to head out into the storm.

Yesterday, Jonathan’s passing had us talking about good angels. He was certainly an angel for us. It made me realize (again-and-again) that the good angels that surround us are not ethereal unseen spirits. They are visible. Humans. Folk. Peeps. 20. Brad and Jen. The Up-North-Gang. Horatio. They are the friends that show up to help, Arnie and Dwight. The people that call out-of-the-blue to check-in. They are the world’s best mechanic that fixes our car and then delivers it to our driveway. The notes from Judy or Jim. The texts of encouragement from Rob or Mike or David. The “likes” from Alex and Buffalo Bob that revitalize us everyday to keep writing, keep creating. Brenda and Cris reaching out to us when they hear one of Kerri”s compositions streaming and share how much her music means to them. The bright lights that we just know are out there. Guy and Charles.

We are, indeed, surrounded by good angels, more than I can name or count. We would not be here were it not for the people who catch us when we were falling, the voices of encouragement that cheer when we consider stopping, the many, many people who stand with us in the storm and whisper, “How can I help?”

Beacons. Warming fires on the hill. They are all around us – all the time – and we are more than grateful for their bright light, infusing us with courage as we sail into the next unknown.

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes or streaming on Pandora and iHeart Radio

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE LIGHTHOUSE

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Filed under: Gratitude, Heroes, KS Friday | Tagged: angels, artistry, beacons, courage, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, encouragement, friends, Gratitude, Guidance, guides, helpers, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, kindness, light, lighthouse, story, studio melange, support, the melange, unknown | 5 Comments »

Look Down [on DR Thursday]

Posted on January 6, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

To all the rugged individualists out there living under the grand illusion that you are blazing a new trail, I have only one thing to say: look down. Someone has been there before you. It’s why there’s a path. And, more to the point, someone – a crew of someones – worked very hard to make and maintain the trail you now tread. It’s true in the forest. It’s true in the big-bad city. Every time we flick a switch and the lights come on it might not be a bad idea to recognize how many people were – and are – involved in the maintenance of our comfort and our self-reliance-fantasies.

On the Pink Bed trail there’s a boardwalk that elevates hikers over the swampy sections. I stopped in utter admiration at the section that took a hard left. Someone – a crew of someones – spent a long time making my corner not only easy to walk but beautiful. Certainly there are more efficient ways to build a turn in a boardwalk and they could have chosen any number of simpler solutions but they didn’t. They took the time to make their work functional, sturdy, AND aesthetic.

Daniel was building a house on the lake. He only builds one a year these days, mostly for fun. He invited us in. Far from being finished, the craftsmanship was exposed. The joints were meticulous. The lumber he chose was solid. The materials mattered. There was beauty in the structure and he was proud to point out the love taken in every step, even the roughest stage of the build. The eventual buyers would never see or know the care alive behind the drywall. They might never fathom the depth of effort and design involved in making their comfort – their triumphant lake home – a possibility.

Horatio and I talk often of the deep philosophical divide in these un-united-united-states. The every-man/woman-for-him/herself camp is at odds with the I-am-my-brother/sisters-keeper folks. I understand the appeal of the self-made-man/woman story but I also recognize it to be mostly a fantasy. Sir Edmund Hillary understood that standing atop Everest, celebrated as the first, was only made possible by the efforts of hundreds of Sherpa, months of expedition planning by John Hunt and team, financing, travel arrangements, government officials, 8 previous unsuccessful expeditions, and the good graces and guidance of Tensing Norgay.

We’d be better off if periodically we stopped and simply looked down.

read Kerri’s blog post about the BOARDWALK