I’m reading Fernando Pelayo Brambila’s Graceful Notes of Enthusiasm on a cold and wet evening a day before Thanksgiving. He writes about the joy of raindrops hitting the dirt after a long, thirsty drought. I’m reminded that in times of abundance, it can be hard to conjure scarcity. The street outside my window wears a sheen from the rain puddles, steady rain drops talk and sing and dance as they hit the pools. I have a new appreciation for abundant water as I consider the perspective of a man who was raised close to the land in Mexico.
Thanksgiving centers fullness. The house starts quiet and over the day rooms fill with family and friends. We hold off eating in the morning, and then, stuffed to the gills, we push back our chairs, unbuckle our belts, and finally find our coats. We are filled with turkey, mashed potatoes, pies (pumpkin or pecan?), family and traditions. Dishes take all day to cook and what seems like 20 minutes to consume, and the day seems to end with dishes … and a few disagreements. Year after year.
In our writer’s workshop at OSP, we created a virtual Thanksgiving menu. This year we are grateful for the release date granted to our very dear Austin Clark — who has been serving a life sentence since he was sixteen years old. The parole board found him ready to return to his community. His prison family will miss his kindness, his talent, and the twinkle in is eye. For our virtual celebration: Le'Var is bringing Popeyes Chicken, Uriah will bring Posole, Jeremy is bringing Orange Jello with Whipped Cream, Travis is bringing Wild Turkey, Yeyin will handle cooking the Turkey, Stressla is making Dirty Rice, Dustin will open a can of cold, jellied Cranberry Sauce, Matt has the Macaroni Salad, Austin will bring Spicy Vegetable Soup, Danny is bringing the Green Bean Casserole (though he doesn’t really like it) and I’ll handle Pecan, Sweet Potato, and Chocolate Cream pies.
Prisons are crowded and bustling. Prisons are lonely. People who know how to make connections, meaningful friendships have the best chance of not just surviving, but doing productive time. We get to work with people who mentor and guide young people through the harshest gauntlet, helping raise good men like Austin. And we read the evidence every week in these writings.
Interaction by Chris Ainsworth
Pull me back from the edge.
Grateful and spiteful,
Positive and negative.
Acts of Kindness by Robin Thatcher
Many of us are completely alone and fighting an internal dialogue of sadness. This is often why we are divided. Some of us deflect our feelings of self-loathing on the people around us, furthering the loneliness and other suffer in silent anger for themselves.
You Are A Star by Thomas Derr
We influence each other in sight or unseen
and change our paths sharing particles between
of love, of hate, lasting impression now made
a part of us, a part of you
a part of me, left in view
by the path that we have altered.
Untitled by Ricky Fay
When someone knocks down the barricades
And conquers a part of my soul,
I’m grateful
A Story, A Hope, A Dream by Steven Leech
Take a moment to get lost in the sands of time
Listen as I spin a tale and twist a rhyme.
And know this isn’t as easy as I make it seem
To be able to give you hope, purpose and a brand-new dream.
Outreach by Jai
Deeply consistently
Despite whatever discomfort
To figure out
What one is about How another fits
In
Portland winter rain, long stretches of drought. The holidays are abundant and scarce. For every turkey dinner with leftovers and extra piece of pie, there is the empty cupboard. There is someone who we love who is no longer at the table. We miss and we mourn. We tell stories. We raise a glass. | TDS