Day 4858: The White Envelope & Capybara and Howler Monkey.

"Amelia Earhart": postage stamp, junk collage, journal page.

 

                                                                       

  

Want music?

 Click: Temptations, Just My Imagination.

 

As shown earlier, here, 

I opened the beautiful package from Rad Nana (Colorado) on my birthday and have two new books to read over the holiday vacation. Thank you, Rad Nana! She always has the best books to read. Another example of being blessed indeed. The birthday was quiet at home, fielding calls, messages, songs, e-mails and a nap. A few get-togethers are scheduled in the coming days. Thanks to all for your caring.

 2GN2S  

The White Envelope.

 

THE LITTLE WHITE ENVELOPE 

 

"It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past ten years.

It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas. Oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it – overspending and the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma – the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

 

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was on the wrestling team at the school he attended. Shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them." 

 

Mike loved kids – all kids. He so enjoyed coaching little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came.

That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes, and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed a small, white envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done, and that this was his gift from me.

 

Mike's smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year. And that same bright smile lit up succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition – one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The white envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning, and our children – ignoring their new toys – would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents. As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the small, white envelope never lost its allure.

 

The story doesn't end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree. And the next morning, I found it was magically joined by three more. Unbeknownst to the others, each of our three children had for the first time placed a white envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing to take down that special envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit will always be with us."

 

For the Man Who Hated Christmas 

(A true Christmas Story by Nancy W. Gavin, December 2015)

An unlikely and adorable bond has formed at the Denver Zoo in Colorado, US. Baya, a 16-year-old howler monkey, and Rebecca, a 6-year-old capybara, have become inseparable friends while sharing an enclosure. The zoo staff noted that they are the only two females in their habitat, which is believed to have cemented their affectionate relationship.

The duo has been spotted frequently snuggling and cuddling together, with Baya often taking shelter on Rebecca's back. Jessica Newell, an assistant curator at the Denver Zoo, commented that the monkey seeks comfort and support from the capybara because Rebecca is very calm.

Although both species are native to South America, this kind of close interaction is rare in the wild. Zoos often group them together due to their overlapping natural habitats and generally docile dispositions. Their surprising friendship highlights how companionship can be found even across species lines.

 

  

 

A 6 minute video, The Secretary Bird, here

 

  

 

Just because ...

South Asian Finch

In the sun-drenched grasslands of South Asia, this tiny ember-bright finch slips between reeds with quick, sparkling movements. It feeds on the smallest seeds and tender shoots, selecting each grain with almost delicate care. What makes it extraordinary is the quiet way it renews its habitat — by scattering seeds as it forages and pruning dense patches of grass, it helps sustain the very meadows it depends on. A flicker of crimson in the fields, yet a gentle custodian of the grassland’s rhythm.

 

Friday's Smiles ... 

 

   

        Hoping you feel all the good things in your day.