Category: Kindness

How Do You Define Kindness?

The subject of this painting were the blossoms of an African Tulip tree. The blossom forms a large cup that catches rain water. Birds coming to drink from these cups carry the pollen from one blossom to another. Thus, by providing a service to the birds, the flower receives service in return. It is by giving and sharing that we grow in loving and caring.

Things of Joy
By Al Vester
I shopped for gifts early this year
And gathered a sack full of good cheer.
I polished up memories of things I’d seen,
Until they gleamed so bright and clean.
Things of joy and boundless mirth
Showing to all for all their worth:
The diamond sparkle of falling rain,
The shadow smile of the old moon’s wane,
The billows and curls from a chimney at dawn,
The husky smell of a new mown lawn,
A sapphire sky over an emerald sea,
The tender smile that you gave me.

What is Kindness?

Kindness is most easily described by the impact that it has on individuals in our society. Continue reading “How Do You Define Kindness?”

Cultural Kindness, Is It Conditional?

This simple still life of autumn gourds, pumpkins, and corn was a practice painting. These foods represent the simple staples that most of the world lives on, when their budget does not allow them to eat a fat rich diet of processed foods like most Americans seem to enjoy.

 

 A Thoughtful Drought
    By Al Vester

If a horse that is led to water
Can’t be made to drink,
Then, what proves a man
Who’s taught ideas
Can be made to think.

Cultural Kindness

Nearly every culture in the world has rules about being kind and respectful to close neighbors. However, a universal exception to the kindness rule seems to exist when dealing with people who violate cultural norms. Continue reading “Cultural Kindness, Is It Conditional?”

A Peaceful Night

“Tillamook Twilight” depicts Tillamook Bay, Oregon about twenty minutes after sunset on late winter day. Centered in the scene is a small fishing boat coming home after a long day on the Pacific Ocean. For many people in the world, night-time is coming-home time, a time to rest, and a time to be with family.

        NIGHTGOWN
        By Al Vester

How soft is the night when the wind takes a rest
From blowing the clouds from the east to the west,
While all of the crickets are humming a tune –
A midsummer ballad to welcome the moon.

The starlit clouds make a gossamer nest
Over valley slope and mountain crest
Wrapping each creature in a silvery cloth,
It’s the fabric of sleep that’s so light and soft.

Thus, each soul is nightly dressed
In fragile garments of dreams and rest,
With warm silky touch, they caress the skin
Stilling the turmoil, we each hold within.

A Peaceful Night

We live in a world where neon lights and traffic noises often mask sunsets and nighttime stars. However, for those who live away from city lights and noises, the setting sun can paint the sky in delicate shades of blues, pinks, golds, and oranges blazing briefly before fading into a star-studded night. Continue reading “A Peaceful Night”

Have you ever been lonely?

The Copihue, or Chilean Bell flower, is the national flower of Chile. Yet, strangely, not many Chileans have actually seen it in person. It grows in only a few of Chile’s southern regions and rarely has more than a few blossoms per vine. The Copihue vine is so slender that it needs the support of fences or other trees, yet the blossom is large and beautiful. Many people might identify with the Copihue, because they are not the biggest, nor strongest, nor the most popular among their peers. But just because you may not be the center of a crowd of admirers, does not mean that you do not have great value as an individual. The following poem describes the feeling of loss due to the departure of a friend and the wisdom that I learned from a wind-blown bush.


             HUSH
            By Al Vester

“Hush,” said the bush as the breeze blew by,
“Hush for my heart has started to cry.”
The winds from the south will bring the rain,
And the wind from the north may bring sharp pain
Of frigid snows and frost-bit toes.
But the hardest breeze there is to bear
Is the one that says our love’s not there.
When they’re swept away like a thistle down,
The wind never says where they’ll be found.
No trace is left but the puff of dust
            That drifts on by
And leaves in its wake a dying sigh.
It mourns for the loss of the one that has flown
On the wings of the wind and left us alone.
Alone with the wail of the wind in our ears
Like the formless voice of a thousand tears.
And only a bush growing green and lush
Is wise enough to tell it “Hush.”

In my youth, I daily endured a forty-five-minute bus ride to the county seat where my high school was located. Continue reading “Have you ever been lonely?”

Technology and Fire

Shortly after leaving the shipyards following a major overhaul, we experienced an explosion caused by a single nut that was tightened too much. The nut was holding together the main disconnect plates to the sub’s after battery. These plates formed the connection point between the after battery and the rest of the propulsion system for the submarine. This battery contained enough power to light a small city for several days. When properly contained, such power is both marvelous and yet dangerous at the same time.

After Battery Explosion
    By Al Vester
The air thumped with an ominous bump
And men ran out all babbling shouts,
Until one cry was heard above the mad route
“Explosion in the after-battery”
And there hung fear for a split second poised
As every day cares became childish toys.
Then, speed shouted “Move” and everyone jumped
To bring the right gear to the source of the thump,
Extinguishers, canisters, and OBA’s[1] too,
Were wrenched from their racks with little ado.

Some men were injured and blankets demanded,
Two seconds later three blankets were handed
To help the poor guys with the scorched face and eyes.
A fire-blacked, shock-shaken wreck of a man
Was lead to his bed by a friend at each hand.
The bed was a table in the officer’s mess,
A table of law and of food and of jest,
But for a table of mercy t’was suited the best.
For two days and three nights, the guard watch was kept
Over the bed of the chief while he slept
By four of his shipmates, who watched with a care
Beyond what just duty would possibly dare.

Five men were burned when a strained wrench slipped
On a nut that wouldn’t turn and a terminal was clipped.
The atom’s been tamed and electricity stored,
Vast powers we’ve claimed never dreamed of before.
But those powers are hung like a sword by a thread,
Awaiting the chance to drop on our head.

[1] OBA – Oxygen Breathing Apparatus, a device that provides air for fire-fighters in a sealed compartment.

First Lesson of fire and technology – Don’t get burned

Fire is a wonderful servant, but a terrible master. For all the warming, cooking, and other uses of fire, for which mankind has depended on for ages, we still struggle when a fire gets out of control. Continue reading “Technology and Fire”

The Upward Path

An early morning flight from a dark and rainy airport into the light of early dawn above the clouds became a metaphor in my mind of our heavenward journey.

Upward Flight
            Al Vester

Dark and gray is the night
            As we first board the flight.
Then up the dawn sky
            Like the first birds to fly
Up through the clouds
            Those layered white shrouds
That hide earth below
            And all that we know
Of old sorrows and fears
            As we wipe away tears.
Then bursting into light
            We behold glorious sights
Of blue, pink, and golds
            As all heaven unfolds
Brighter still as we climb
            Where the sun starts to shine
Appearing whiter than white
            So intense is the light
As in visions of old
           Where holy prophets foretold
Of our God on his throne
            There all our trials are known.
Where our faith and our love
            For our dear Savior, above
Allow his mercy to claim
            And in great joy we remain
By His throne, we will stay
            On this great endless day.
Gone are darkness and clouds
            Along with death and its shrouds
Freed from sin and its stains
            We will sing the glad strains
Of praise for the love
            Of our Father above.

Life’s fog

So often we seem like wanderers in a dense fog, not seeing more than a step or two ahead. It becomes easy to forget about the clear, bright skies that shine only a few hundred meters over our heads. Nevertheless, our lack of vision does not negate the fact that the sun shines brightly above us or that there is a God in heaven. Continue reading “The Upward Path”

Why Show Compassion?

Both the poem and the painting are based on an actual incident experienced while commuting to work. My heart went out to the unknown woman, weeping alone. In the painting, the trees have been shaped to represent the depressing voices that she hears within her head. My own daughters were having struggles at that time and I was worrying about them even as I considered the sorrow of this poor lady.

A Woman Weeping at the Bus Stop
             By Al Vester
A woman sat weeping softly by the bus stop,
Fair hair hanging curtain-like around her face.
Slender fingers tried to comb the matted mop,
Failing, where tangled locks remained in place.
The passing hand showed sunken cheeks,
Evidence of bitter days and dreary weeks.
 
Sorrow separated from the world, she bent
Alone, unloved, unsheltered from the sky,
Her bowed back being her spirit’s only tent.
The bus arrived, but still she stayed to cry.
What path had brought her to this state?
When did accumulated errors grow so great?

Passer-by’s ponder while they wait
Brooding as they board their morning bus
Praying that their daughter’s fate
Would different be, and not end thus
Sitting at a bus stop as if traveling somewhere
Sadly saddled with sorrows going nowhere.

Compassion

In a world filled with many sorrows, there are good people everywhere who are moved with compassion to alleviate the suffering that those around them. Continue reading “Why Show Compassion?”

What Is Your Family Heritage?

Years ago, as we moved in to a new house and lacked furniture for all the empty spaces, we put plants in one corner. Included in the arrangement were a wood sculpture of a crane by my father and a ceramic pot created by my son. My painting linked the creations of three generations in the light of a summer morning.

The Green Corner
      By Al Vester
 
Calmly crane and pot do sit
Revealing now our family’s wit
The crane by Dad, the pot by son
Loving gifts which they have done.
Now among the plants they fit
And to that verdant clasp submit.
 
Where fish remind us of the fun
Of swims beneath a tropic sun,
Those woven palms, shaped with skill,
Remind us of those travels still
Then bring us back, where we’ve begun,
To this corner set in slanting sun.

Sunrise lights the distant hills
Spilling hope through window sills,
Then and now are closely knit
As past achievements now are lit,
Our prayers ascend up that His will
Does smile upon our beings still,
And grants us power by His might
To welcome life in morning’s light.

Family Heritages

Every generation builds their accomplishments upon the works of previous generations. Countless of prior generations have left the current generation a legacy of language, art, science and a host of inventions ranging from toothbrushes to rockets capable of carrying men to the moon. Continue reading “What Is Your Family Heritage?”

Whatever happened to the idea of conservation?

October is a time when autumn descends on the northern hemisphere, and flowers appear in the southern hemisphere. Many of the northern trees turn from green to shades of red, yellow, gold, and orange as depicted in this painting called Big Mountain Autumn.

          Autumn Maple
          By Al Vester
All gilded are the hills that autumn crowns
With maple trees and thistle down,
Where winds do softly toss and tease
The leaves turned bright by nightly freeze.
My heart and dreams are always found
On wooded hill near edge of town,
For this is where my soul’s at ease
‘Neath Douglas fir and maple trees.

When woodland thrills to autumn sounds
Of hunters and their baying hounds,
I love to lie among the leaves
Idly doing as I please.
Let others run and chase around
Searching for the joy I’ve found,
Brought every autumn by the breeze
‘Neath Douglas fir and maple trees.

Conservation

We live in a beautiful world that was created for our use, but also a world we should care for with wisdom and responsibility. In my youth the topic of conservation of resources was often discussed, which to my young mind meant that we should wisely use and not abuse this world in which we live.  Continue reading “Whatever happened to the idea of conservation?”