Showing posts with label The World. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The World. Show all posts
Monday, February 20, 2012
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Generosity
I don’t believe it. I refuse to believe that the world is not good. They say that with this economy, people have become stingy and the spirit of giving is dying. Let me tell you about my week, and you’ll side with me.
Friday morning I had an appointment to get my hair trimmed, a rarity for me. What a great start to the day: I showed up and enjoyed being washed, cut, and dried, a pampering that cannot be replicated at home. I was thrilled with it all and when I went to pay, she said that my hair cut had been paid for in full. After a short conversation, I nailed down a sneaky, very generous lady we both knew. When I saw her later that morning, and I knew she would not accept repayment, I simply said, “Thank you.” A very difficult thing, that is: to know that someone did something nice for you, know you can’t repay them, and say two simple words. I was a happy girl that day.
Saturday morning I was on my way to do some Christmas shopping with Emily. To start the day, we went through the drive-through at Starbucks, another discretionary expense we’ve cut down drastically. I was feeling like treating us, so I went big: a grande, and some cookies and milk for Emily. There were a few cars in front of me so we waited. When I got to the counter to pay, the cashier said our bill was taken care of. What?!?! Was my generous friend following me? Nope, but an anonymous stranger in a blue Durango told the cashier that she hoped it made my day. It did.
Please don’t mistaken my joy for greed…the emotion I felt was not selfish. On the contrary, I am so grateful that these two people are the proof that we, as a nation, as a world, as a human race, haven’t gone nasty and greedy. Starting now, I intend to be that proof as well.
Friday morning I had an appointment to get my hair trimmed, a rarity for me. What a great start to the day: I showed up and enjoyed being washed, cut, and dried, a pampering that cannot be replicated at home. I was thrilled with it all and when I went to pay, she said that my hair cut had been paid for in full. After a short conversation, I nailed down a sneaky, very generous lady we both knew. When I saw her later that morning, and I knew she would not accept repayment, I simply said, “Thank you.” A very difficult thing, that is: to know that someone did something nice for you, know you can’t repay them, and say two simple words. I was a happy girl that day.
Saturday morning I was on my way to do some Christmas shopping with Emily. To start the day, we went through the drive-through at Starbucks, another discretionary expense we’ve cut down drastically. I was feeling like treating us, so I went big: a grande, and some cookies and milk for Emily. There were a few cars in front of me so we waited. When I got to the counter to pay, the cashier said our bill was taken care of. What?!?! Was my generous friend following me? Nope, but an anonymous stranger in a blue Durango told the cashier that she hoped it made my day. It did.
Please don’t mistaken my joy for greed…the emotion I felt was not selfish. On the contrary, I am so grateful that these two people are the proof that we, as a nation, as a world, as a human race, haven’t gone nasty and greedy. Starting now, I intend to be that proof as well.
Rising from the Ashes
Story by Bill Plaschke, Photo by Luis Sinco, LA Times
Harrison Hill kicked through the smoke of uncertainty, the soot of fear, finding the back of the net with a solid right foot on a spotless white ball.
He kicked the first goal, the only goal his Westmont College team would need, then he turned and ran.
He ran past the teammate who, at this moment, owned only the uniform on his back.
He ran past a teammate who had prepared for the game by searching Craigslist for a place to sleep.
He ran off the field, under the covered bench area, and into the arms of one who lost more than any of them.
In last week's Montecito fire, the home of Westmont Coach Dave Wolf burned to the ground.
Hill hugged his teary-eyed teacher and lifted him to the sky.
"This is the first brick in your new house," he whispered.
This is how the healing always begins, doesn't it? A community torn by tragedy searches for a reason to find each other. A group of athletes reaches beyond itself to become that reason.
The healing, it seems, always starts with a game.
On Monday afternoon, on a pristine field abutted again against clear and majestic hills, there was a game like few others. Westmont College played Azusa Pacific University for the Golden State Athletic Conference championship and a spot in the NAIA national tournament.
They played even though Westmont, a private Montecito college with an enrollment of 1,347, had been shut down since last week because of the wildfire.
They played even though 15% of the campus had been destroyed, including faculty housing for about two dozen teachers and a handful of dorms for 50 students.
They played even though they were supposed to play on Saturday, with no rest and no preparation, but the game was delayed by request of Azusa Pacific.
That's right. Imagine that. Azusa Pacific could have won by forfeit, yet the defending national champions insisted on postponing the game until they could bring the bedraggled Westmont soccer players to their campus, house them, feed them, and get them ready to play.
"At the end of the day, that title can burn up and those rings can melt away," said Phil Wolf, Azusa Pacific's coach and brother of the Westmont coach. "Sports are about relationships, family, brotherhood."
So, heavy underdogs with heavy minds, the Westmont players showed up on the Azusa campus last weekend with little chance of even paying attention until the game.
"I couldn't even believe we were here," said Zach George, a freshman whose dorm room burned down, leaving him with nothing, not even his wallet or keys. "We had lost so much."
But by the time they stepped on the Azusa Pacific field Monday, they had found something.
It was on the other sideline. It was standing five deep, the length of the field, stretching beyond the fences behind the goals, shrieking and cheering and chanting.
It was their people. It was their school. Westmont was officially closed, but its heart had opened to pour out several hundred students and faculty who had driven two hours -- some even on a chartered bus -- to cheer for the first sign of post-fire life.
The cheers of "West-mont" filled the humid air, far stronger than the remaining faint whiff of smoke. It sometimes even drowned out the "A-P-U" cheers from locals who made this gathering of about 500 people the biggest crowd in Azusa Pacific soccer history.
"I know this has been said before, but this time it's true," said Westmont freshman Austin Crowder, who was painted in the school colors of red and white. "We're here to show how we will rise from the ashes."
The Westmont players saw this, felt it, huddled around their coach before the game and choked back tears and prayed about it.
By the time the game started, the burning had returned, only this time from within.
"There was no way we were losing this game," said senior midfielder Jonathon Schoff. "I mean, no chance, not an option, no way."
The fans never quieted. The players never slowed. And no, there was no chance Westmont was losing this game.
The Warriors beat the bigger, stronger, faster Cougars, 2-0, in a match that didn't feel that close. They seemingly won every contested ball. They appeared to win every race to every corner.
They scored twice in the second half, both goals followed by runs directly into the coaches' arms. Just as the emotion fueled Westmont, it drained Azusa Pacific, the classy hosts overcome by their own generosity.
"There was so much going for them, the fans, the momentum, the situation, it was too much for us to overcome," said junior midfield Eric Winblad. "We almost felt like the bad guys out there."
That's sad, because rarely in Southern California sports has there been a better show of sportsmanship than this, Azusa Pacific sacrificing its chance at a title defense to give Westmont a fair shot at taking it.
As impressive as the resilience of the conquerors was the kindness of the conquered.
Goodness, the school didn't even charge admission to the game and offered the Westmont fans a free lunch of pizza and salad.
"I've lost a lot, but right now, I can't think of one thing I need," said Westmont's Dave Wolf. "The people of Azusa Pacific have given us everything."
Monday's game ended, and the Westmont fans streamed onto the field, surrounding their heroes, singing, chanting, then coming together for a most amazing final embrace.
They tunneled. That's right, just like parents in a youth soccer game, they lined up across from each other, stretched out their arms, clasped hands, and formed a tunnel through which the players ran. Darn thing stretched about 50 yards, from Azusa toward Montecito, from despair to hope.
Wolf will soon begin a daunting search for a home for himself, his wife and their five children. But for a few minutes Monday, anything was possible, the sixth-place Warriors advancing to the national tournament, scheduled to host a first-round match next weekend even though they don't know if they still have a field.
"I know it's not a very sophisticated answer, but when you ask how I'm feeling about today, I can say only one thing to everyone," said Dave Wolf, staring red-eyed into a collection of kids dancing, laughing, rising from those ashes. "Thank you."
Harrison Hill kicked through the smoke of uncertainty, the soot of fear, finding the back of the net with a solid right foot on a spotless white ball.He kicked the first goal, the only goal his Westmont College team would need, then he turned and ran.
He ran past the teammate who, at this moment, owned only the uniform on his back.
He ran past a teammate who had prepared for the game by searching Craigslist for a place to sleep.
He ran off the field, under the covered bench area, and into the arms of one who lost more than any of them.
In last week's Montecito fire, the home of Westmont Coach Dave Wolf burned to the ground.
Hill hugged his teary-eyed teacher and lifted him to the sky.
"This is the first brick in your new house," he whispered.
This is how the healing always begins, doesn't it? A community torn by tragedy searches for a reason to find each other. A group of athletes reaches beyond itself to become that reason.
The healing, it seems, always starts with a game.
On Monday afternoon, on a pristine field abutted again against clear and majestic hills, there was a game like few others. Westmont College played Azusa Pacific University for the Golden State Athletic Conference championship and a spot in the NAIA national tournament.
They played even though Westmont, a private Montecito college with an enrollment of 1,347, had been shut down since last week because of the wildfire.
They played even though 15% of the campus had been destroyed, including faculty housing for about two dozen teachers and a handful of dorms for 50 students.
They played even though they were supposed to play on Saturday, with no rest and no preparation, but the game was delayed by request of Azusa Pacific.
That's right. Imagine that. Azusa Pacific could have won by forfeit, yet the defending national champions insisted on postponing the game until they could bring the bedraggled Westmont soccer players to their campus, house them, feed them, and get them ready to play.
"At the end of the day, that title can burn up and those rings can melt away," said Phil Wolf, Azusa Pacific's coach and brother of the Westmont coach. "Sports are about relationships, family, brotherhood."
So, heavy underdogs with heavy minds, the Westmont players showed up on the Azusa campus last weekend with little chance of even paying attention until the game.
"I couldn't even believe we were here," said Zach George, a freshman whose dorm room burned down, leaving him with nothing, not even his wallet or keys. "We had lost so much."
But by the time they stepped on the Azusa Pacific field Monday, they had found something.
It was on the other sideline. It was standing five deep, the length of the field, stretching beyond the fences behind the goals, shrieking and cheering and chanting.
It was their people. It was their school. Westmont was officially closed, but its heart had opened to pour out several hundred students and faculty who had driven two hours -- some even on a chartered bus -- to cheer for the first sign of post-fire life.
The cheers of "West-mont" filled the humid air, far stronger than the remaining faint whiff of smoke. It sometimes even drowned out the "A-P-U" cheers from locals who made this gathering of about 500 people the biggest crowd in Azusa Pacific soccer history.
"I know this has been said before, but this time it's true," said Westmont freshman Austin Crowder, who was painted in the school colors of red and white. "We're here to show how we will rise from the ashes."
The Westmont players saw this, felt it, huddled around their coach before the game and choked back tears and prayed about it.
By the time the game started, the burning had returned, only this time from within.
"There was no way we were losing this game," said senior midfielder Jonathon Schoff. "I mean, no chance, not an option, no way."
The fans never quieted. The players never slowed. And no, there was no chance Westmont was losing this game.
The Warriors beat the bigger, stronger, faster Cougars, 2-0, in a match that didn't feel that close. They seemingly won every contested ball. They appeared to win every race to every corner.
They scored twice in the second half, both goals followed by runs directly into the coaches' arms. Just as the emotion fueled Westmont, it drained Azusa Pacific, the classy hosts overcome by their own generosity.
"There was so much going for them, the fans, the momentum, the situation, it was too much for us to overcome," said junior midfield Eric Winblad. "We almost felt like the bad guys out there."
That's sad, because rarely in Southern California sports has there been a better show of sportsmanship than this, Azusa Pacific sacrificing its chance at a title defense to give Westmont a fair shot at taking it.
As impressive as the resilience of the conquerors was the kindness of the conquered.
Goodness, the school didn't even charge admission to the game and offered the Westmont fans a free lunch of pizza and salad.
"I've lost a lot, but right now, I can't think of one thing I need," said Westmont's Dave Wolf. "The people of Azusa Pacific have given us everything."
Monday's game ended, and the Westmont fans streamed onto the field, surrounding their heroes, singing, chanting, then coming together for a most amazing final embrace.
They tunneled. That's right, just like parents in a youth soccer game, they lined up across from each other, stretched out their arms, clasped hands, and formed a tunnel through which the players ran. Darn thing stretched about 50 yards, from Azusa toward Montecito, from despair to hope.
Wolf will soon begin a daunting search for a home for himself, his wife and their five children. But for a few minutes Monday, anything was possible, the sixth-place Warriors advancing to the national tournament, scheduled to host a first-round match next weekend even though they don't know if they still have a field.
"I know it's not a very sophisticated answer, but when you ask how I'm feeling about today, I can say only one thing to everyone," said Dave Wolf, staring red-eyed into a collection of kids dancing, laughing, rising from those ashes. "Thank you."
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
My Alma Mater Burned
Westmont College is my home away from home. It’s where I met some of my most treasured friends. It’s where I reconciled my faith with science. It’s where I experienced and tried to make sense of 9/11. It’s where I grew up. Now, it’s where numerous students and faculty are displaced because their homes have burned.The Tea Fire started near a place Westmont calls The Arches, last Thursday. It tore through the Montecito, and then parts of Santa Barbara, destroying over 1,900 acres of beautiful land, and 210 homes. In just the Westmont community alone, fifteen homes in Las Barrancas (small housing development for faculty adjacent to the campus) were lost, as well as four buildings that were a part of the Clark Dorm, Bauder Hall, the physics building, the old math building and two Quonset Huts. The latter three were scheduled for demolition to make room for new facilities. Thankfully, no one from Westmont was physically injured.
To outsiders, Westmont is known for its beauty: the Birds of Paradise that looked out below Kerrwood Hall, the Wisteria that drooped from the lattice, the ponds that trickled with water and coy, and the well-groomed campus that elicited joy in the face of every visitor. All of that looks much different now.
But to insiders, Westmont is hailed for its community, one that fosters growth and relationships and learning. That doesn’t look any different now, as the news stations showed images of students huddled together, praying, singing, laughing, crying.
Days later, I ask for your thoughts and prayers for those it has affected, in the Westmont Community that I am so proud to still be a part of.
Photos courtesy of Brad Elliot, Westmont College
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
We Voted
We voted.I voted because I always do. This year it was different because I decided bringing Emily with me to the polling place (even if it was just to drop off my absentee ballot) would be a good tradition to start. So, here we are - notice the "I Voted" sticker I proudly wore all day long - off to Starbucks. An unfortunate side-effect of this new tradition is that Emily now thinks that voting equals cookies, because I reminded her that after going to vote, we would go get coffee.
Ryan voted for the first time in his 29 years of life. He educated himself (and the rest of us!), made some hard decisions, and cast his ballot.
It was a good day.
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