LIKE A LITTLE CHILD

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Issue 56 | November 2016 | 4 Pages | For free circulation only

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From the Editor

Here we are now with the penultimate issue of FEMNET 2016. The Issue s tar ts w i th a beau t i fu l paean on Childrens Day. We then have a lovely poem on the first signs of snow heralding in the next a r t i c l e t h e ' m o s t wonderful time of the year'.

We move on to discuss the interesting issue of b e i n g c o n s i d e r e d ' s i g n i f i c a n t ' o r 'insignificant'. Tribute is paid to the memory of those who made the ult imate sacrif ice to preserve our freedom and who still continue s e r v i n g i n p e a c e -keeping missions in various parts of the world. The next two poems help usher in the start of the Fest ive Season. And, finally, a poetic tribute to Man's Best Friend.

Look ing fo rward to r e c e i v i n g y o u r contributions in time to make our December Issue truly Festive.

For The Editorial Team

FOUNDER

Sr. Thecla Pereira (Goa, India)

INDEX

Like A Little Child

Do You Smell What I Smell?

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

Being Significant

Lest We Forget

The Gift of Music

Festive Poem

A Man Chased Me

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know how many children are abused in our nation? On this occasion let us also remember those children who are sick, abused and unhappy. Remember that as children:

Ÿ They have the right to be looked after by parents and family.

Ÿ They have the right to have healthy food.

Ÿ They have the right to feel safe at home and school.

Ÿ They have the right to good education.

So in today's world life can be very insecure for you dear little ones, and we know safety and security don't just happen, they are the result of collective consensus and public investment. We owe you our children, the most vulnerable citizens in our society, a life free of violence and fear. Although parents are responsible for their children society too carries some responsibility.

On this Children's Day I express my thanks for all children who come to us with a sparkle in their eye and say those lovely words “I love You “and every single child that the earth has blessed us with If we all could see the world through the eyes of a child, we would see the magic in everything around and be grateful to God who wants us to be like little children always trusting and loving

May we always care for our children, not counting the cost, so that they may never believe themselves to be mistakes, but always know their infinite worth and remember while we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about.

A message for us parents and teachers on Childrens' Day:

Your children become who you are, so be who you want them to be.

Happy Children's day! What joy!, What a treasure you are to our world - we love you.

You are a message that God is not tired of us. Off all the things Jesus turned upside down none was more surprising and unexpected than His depiction of a little child instead of an adult or a rock star as the model we should imitate and learn from .The image He put forward was as the ideal for, was, not the image of some great heroic figures or a person of great strength, the image of true greatness that He put before his disciples and lived up himself was the image of a little child. He saw something truly admirable and loveable in children. Jesus loves you children not merely because you are “nobodies”, Jesus loves you because you are not hypocrites and in a truly remarkable way you are simple, spontaneous and trusting with your angelic eyes and innocent smiles. It makes us realize that may be the way God wanted it, there is something that all like, it can be nothing else but children. They conquer our hearts ask us to be simple forgiving and loving.

On Children's Day tribute is paid to all children in the world, our tribute to you is not only on this one day but all the days of your life.

You dear children can be the torch bearers for God. All of us are not called to achieve great thing and dreams or purposes that newspapers will record. We are called to do small things with love. I was inspired by what a young boy who wrote in an article Beautiful World “I hope to be a person who makes changes for the better, even if they are small ones”. Yes even if they are small ones, like just planting a tree, feeding the birds, and being kind to all, even to animals!

Children's Day also reminds us of the rights of children. They are the citizens and leaders of tomorrow. So they really matter and deserve respect, special care and protection. But do you

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Dr. Nicola Coutinho (Germany)

DO YOU SMELL WHAT I SMELL?

Was my dear nose

Playing tricks on me?

Could it truly be?

I awoke this morning

Senses ablaze and tingling

Oh, I had to sing

Gone was the gray

In came the white

What a lovely sight

All it touched transformed

The magic dust swirled

Out, old autumn twirled

My tongue stuck out

A kid once more

The joy of snow!

All crisp and bright

Washed of old hue

The world is new

My nose was right

Snowy winter is here

With it, holiday cheer

I smell fresh cookies

Warm cakes and pies

In every possible size

Odours of fresh holly

Drown out the food

I’m in tinsel mood

Shimmy down my chimney

St Nicholas hurry please

Don’t bruise your knees

Hey Frosty, come here

Let’s do the Polka

Bring out the Mocha

Let it be Christmas

Before I run wild

With my inner child

IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!

Betty Pires (Hampstead Heath, U.K.)

star, I put a l i g h t e d candle in the w i n d o w. I s t i l l put a cand le in the w indow each

Christmas. And when I light it, I remember him. There were

Carols around the piano and Dad's baritone voice as he recited “Twas

t h e N i g h t b e f o r e Christmas”. To Mum,

Ch r i s tmas was t h a t magical triad of shopping,

decorating and cooking. Here in London, the Carol service broadcast on Christmas Eve from King's College, Cambridge is a peaceful interlude as we get ready for the bustle of Christmas Day.

And then there is Midnight Mass. I grew up in a family where the emphasis was on the religious aspects of the holiday: the birth of Jesus, the desire to be worthy of Him, and the importance of faith in our lives. There was a tacit disapproval of the commercial aspects of Christmas.

And so it goes on l i k e i t a l w a y s has—the old with t h e n e w . O u r t r a d i t i o n s o f Christmas bring us back to memories o f f am i l y and f r i ends , sometimes to a Christmas that turned hardship into celebration, sometimes to a blur of Christmases that are difficult to entangle from one another but remain tied together by the bonds of love, family and friends.

When we celebrate Christmas each year, we bring to the festivities all our memories of Christmases past. Hanging about the tree and swirling through our kitchens are bits of childhood – our own, our children's, and our grandchildren's, flashes of Christmases in unexpected places or circumstances, and tastes and smells richer than anything we can c o o k . To g e t h e r, t h e memories make each year's Christmas a p a r t o f a l l t ho se t ha t came before and will come after. Have a H a p p y Christmas.

My response to all the terrible things happening in the world outside is to go inside, turn the news channels off, and make an extra effort to live happily and well. And what can be happier than Christmas. So I've been hankering for Christmas for a while. Everytime I open a newspaper that is filled with gloom, I wonder why everything cannot be nice. Just like Christmas. And now the countdown to Christmas has begun and I am so

excited!

The centrepiece of our celebration is the tree. Eight feet tall,

it has been with us forever. As life took us to different

p l a c e s , i t travelled with us and has b e e n a

witness to g o o d times and bad. We've

h a d t h e s a m e collection of decorations for many years too. Some from my parent's home, some made by the children and, as they grew up, bought by them. And so each piece has a story that we reminisce about as we do up the tree.

The pudding has been mellowing for a few months. The fruit is soaking in brandy and this week we make the cakes. Everyone stirs it for good luck. The recipe has been handed down in the family. Grand-ma Angelina made it exactly the way her mother made it. Once baked, she wrapped the cakes in muslin soaked in brandy. Each week she would open up the cakes, sprinkle them with more brandy to keep them moist and flavourful and put t h em away again. On Christmas Eve they were unwrapped in all their delicious goodness.

For each of us there are aspects of Christmas that remain magical throughout our lives. One o f my ea r l i e s t memories is of my father putting up the star. Dad said that the star is in memory of the baby Jesus who was born in a stable. It shines its light to welcome anyone who has no place to go on Christmas day. That first Christmas after he passed away, I missed him terribly. We were in Vermont and I wanted something to remember him by. Unable to find a

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Mini Menon (Mumbai, India)

Mini Menon lives in Mumbai and is the author of 'Whispers at Twilight' and 'the Masterpiece', both collections of short stories. Her poems and short stories have featured in various anthologies. She in an avid blogger

and paints as well. She is currently working on a couple of novels and a series of poetry collections.

BEING SIGNIFICANT

that, you will want to make each day stand

out from the previous one. You may want

to leave more smiles to remember the

moments by. While you are about it, you

may want to make other people smile as

well.

Would it make a difference if you were the

only one who didn't litter? Would it really

matter if you picked up the litter someone

else had chucked?

You brought up chi ldren without

succumbing to peer pressure, often

bearing the brunt of being called 'mean

parents' not just by your children, but

even their friends. Was it worth it?

You listened to the ecologists, followed the

steps for waste segregation, turned off

lights and electrical appliances when they

were not required, fixed water leaks at

home as soon as you saw them, ensured

that you were accountable for every drop

of water that was spent. Did it help?

You didn't burst crackers. You didn't honk

in the traffic jam. You never break traffic

rules. You stood in a queue even when you

saw many other people break it. You

helped an accident victim or the little

child who appeared lost. Did you make a

difference?

Looking at the picture again, that tiny

spot on the Universe where you stand,

would be such a better place only for

your presence. Then how can you be

insignificant?

Even if you keep yourself happy, spread

your happiness around, lead by example

– that little drop of positivity can spread

and cheer up everything it touches. And

it is known that things like that can even

have a domino effect. So sing a happy

song, take up a sport and get fit, dance

like everyone is watching, rediscover a

lost hobby, meet friends, read and write,

sing and paint, travel, watch a good

movie, plant some trees or grow a little

garden in your balcony. And throw in

plenty of love and hugs for good

measure. Your spot on the Universe will

be sorted.

If you have made your life worth it in the

living, the caption on the image would

have to be changed. And instead it

would read : 'There you are!'

I recently saw an illustration depicting

the Universe and it had an arrow

pointing to a little spot saying 'That is

you.' Obviously the premise was that

you are as insignificant in the mighty

cosmos as that little spot was in the

bigger picture. But what if you were to

look at it from another perspective?

While the picture is a reminder that it's

unwise to imagine that the whole

Universe revolves around a single

person , if we believed indeed that we

were at the centre of the Universe, what

would happen? Imagine that the world

depends on your presence to survive,

that your breath will fuel and energise

the sun lit skies at daytime and the star-

filled ones at night, how would you feel?

Are we really insignificant? Or are we so

important to the survival of the Universe

that God/ the Creator put us here?

Imagine the things you can do, the good

you can add to the world! Every little

drop in the ocean counts. If you believe

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders Fields.

In a few days, worldwide, on the Eleventh Day of the Eleventh Month at the Eleventh Hour, we will once again be keeping a minute's silence in memory of all those who have made the ultimate sacrifice to ensure our freedom.

In our daily lives we seldom give a thought to those who served in each of the world wars, and, who continue to put their lives on the line – fighting unending wars and those involved in peace keeping missions. They are young, brave, some of them barely 20, some with young families and yet, may never return to see their families or hug their kids or know where their next meal or shelter will be.

This poem was first published in England's Punch Magazine in December 1915. It was written by John McCrae, a Canadian doctor and teacher who served in the First World War. Shortly thereafter it came to symbolize the sacrifices of all who were fighting in the First World War. A proud reflection, lest we forget!

Colleen D'Souza (Canada)

LEST WE FORGET

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch, be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders Fields

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Marina Loyola Furtado Antao (Indiana, U.S.A.)

Marina ( MA., B.Ed., ) University of Bombay. was born and brought up in Goa. She was a lecturer at Damodar Teachers' Training College, Margao,

Goa. She now lives in Indiana (USA) with her husband and family.

The empty stable awaits the Babe

We prepare for that Holy Night

When Kings were led to Bethlehem

By the star of wondrous light.

We prepare to sing the songs of old

In churches great and small,

Away in a Manger, The First Noel,

We light the candles, we deck the halls.

The Kings brought gifts, and so do we

What is the gift we bring?

In humble delight we kneel and say,

"Here are all the songs we sing,

"Take them at this joyful time,

At Christmas, a night that is ever new,

We lay them by the manger's straw,

Our Christmas Music, a Gift for You."

THE GIFT OF MUSIC

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I dialled a number and got the following recording:

"I am not available right now, but thank you for caring enough to call. I am making some changes in my life. Please leave a message after the Beep. If I do not return your call, You are one of the changes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My wife and I had words,

But I didn't get to use mine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God made man before woman so as to give him time to think of an answer for her first question.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was always taught to respect my elders,

But it keeps getting harder to find one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I called an old school friend and asked what was he doing.

He replied that he is working on "Aqua-thermal treatment of ceramics, aluminium & steel under a constrained environment". I was impressed......

On further inquiring I learnt that he was washing d ishes with hot water .......under his wife's supervision!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frustration is trying to find your glasses without your glasses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The irony of life is that, by the time you're old enough to know your way around, you're not going anywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Greta Dias (Canada)

Greta was born and raised in Kampala,

Uganda, East Africa, and the fifth daughter of

Chrisogno and Idinha George.

Since immigrating to Canada with her husband, Vivian Dias, she has juggled working at Air Canada and raising her

two children, Keith and Melanie. She is happily retired and now juggling caring for four grand-children, Nathan, Olivia, Aiden and Emily, and also volunteering

for the Goan Overseas Association as Director for Senior Programming.

She enjoys life one day at a time since retiring, made possible by surrounding herself with good friends and her fairly

large family.

As Christmas approaches, we look forward to a time of celebration with family and friends. My wish this season is:

We act a little nicerWe smile a little easierWe cheer a little moreFor a couple of hoursOut of the whole year

We are the peopleWe always hoped we would be.

(Quote from the Christmas film Scrooge).

Peace and Joy to all!

FESTIVE POEM

Suzette Advani (Goa, India)

A man chased me with a stoneI ran across the road

Speeding wheels zipped acrossIn a second I was floored.

Shrieking pain wracked my bodyTill it all grew dark and cold

And as I woke in a pool of bloodI looked for someone I could hold

So I dragged myself to a safer placeA bed of rocks; my comfort zone

The bushes spared me from the rainMy body was broken I had no bone

Alone I nursed myself to healI had to live I had to survive

There is no mom there is no elfI had to pull on I had to thrive.

Days passed by and I gently movedI was healing; the pain grew dimThe one above had sent me helpSo I trotted on without a limb.

At a distance I saw my buddies at playThe sun was up; a beautiful dayFilled with hope I trudged aheadAs hunger pangs blurred my way.

Suddenly a car whizzed acrossFear shook my body dry

I dashed into the bushes nearAnd waited to get a grip on my fear

Then the dusk turned to dawnAnd there she drove by along

Someone stepped out and stretched a smile

With a bucket of food, what joy sublime!

I dashed across for a gobble and gulpWhen I was swept up in her arms with

loveI screamed and yelped, Oh lord! What

is this?Not knowing goodness, I couldn't

comprehend this

But ever since, my bed is feathersI may have no leg, but a beautiful

motherWhen one door shuts, he opens

anotherGod sends u love, on the wings of

some other.

A MAN CHASED ME

TICKLE YOUR FUNNY BONE

Suzette Advani (Goa, India)