Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The Eve of Dona Nobis Pacem

Somewhere in the world BlogBlast For Peace is dawning. It wouldn't be the same without Annelisa's sunrise photography. Taken in East Sussex, I am proud to call her my friend from across the pond. She has a way of bringing peace through the lens of her magic camera. Though this is her neighborhood in the United Kingdom, it also reminds me a bit of Bloggingham Palace. Blanketed by a gloriously brilliant layer of sky, my world seems a bit closer to hers....and to yours. We live under the same sky. The same world. In fact, we've been sharing this blanket for some time now.


Peace bloggers know how to do that very well.

Dawning anew for me this year is the story of my Papa's marbles, seen here in a wooden bowl that still sits atop my piano. If you are a veteran peace blogger, you have read the story that unfolded, as written below, on the very first BlogBlast Eve in 2006.. It was four hours 'til midnight and I had no peace globe post. Until.........



I received a loving, gentle tap on the shoulder by someone I loved and lost. A simple bowl of rocks changed my mind forever about the absurdity of a notion called coincidence. I am still amazed at how the story of the Peace Globes really began. Many of you are posting a globe for the first time today and do not know this story. For you, I shall tell it again. And for those who began this journey with me in 2006, thank you for allowing me to re-introduce you to this honorable man. 
I am proud to know you. So is he. 

The Silence of Peace
Papa's Marbles


They've been sitting on my piano for more years than I care to count, on the corner of the Kohler and Campbell my grandfather gave me when I was fourteen years old. After he died, I found them in a tattered and dirty bag at the bottom of a box full of his personal things. He wanted me to have them.

His marbles.

Handmade roughhewn marbles crafted from rock by my grandfather and his brothers. The year was 1920 and there was no money for toys.
I often wondered why he didn't leave them for a male member of the family. Honestly, folks. It wasn't until just tonight - the eve of
Dona Nobis Pacem in the blogosphere- that I discovered the answer.
I know stranger things have happened.

I just can't recall when.

I knew this post would not be written until the last moment. I made lots of notes but I just couldn't quite make it happen. It is still a little while before midnight in my part of the United States and I'm supposed to be spinning out a masterpiece of goodwill and peace prose - maybe a stunning poem like those we've already seen. A song, a lyric, a new tune.

Instead, Mimi Pencil Skirt wants to talk about rocks.

So I went into my study and began to polish them. One by one. The bowl, the piano, the granite. How many times have I sat at that very bench and casually glanced into that bowl? Thousands of times. Song after song.


Tune after tune. Year after year.
He didn't have a lot of money it seems to me now, my grandfather. At the time though, he was the richest man I knew. And he has been on my mind this week more often than not. Well over six-feet tall and always impeccably dressed, my Papa was the most humble man I've ever met.
When he passed away I met scores of people who told me what he'd meant to them. "He helped me when I needed money"......He gave me his shoes" and on and on.
His kindness was not news to me. The fact that a large portion of the town showed up at his wake was, however, a stunning surprise.
I didn't know I'd been sharing him all those years.
He made me feel as if I were the only one in the world.

Strange, those marbles. All different shapes and sizes. Colors, too. Yet they've co-Existed for years right there atop the long-lovingly-played strings inside my piano - the one Papa used his savings account to buy for me while he worked two jobs at the factory and made time up on Saturdays when he missed work hours to drive me to my lessons.
I was a bit different. Artistic. Content with solitude. Always writing in endless journals and playing broody piano music. Papa understood me but he didn't pamper me - even though that's a disputed fact to this day in my family.

What he did was more earth-shattering.

The one on top. That one.
Different... that one. I know that's the very one he made. I'm sure of it.
When I think about peace and what it means to me, I always wander back to a time when I first felt it. Because I know on an unconscious level that world peace cannot - will not - be achieved without inner peace. Adversaries on both sides of the conflict have to have it. You can't weave magical tranquility out of thin air and conferences. Peace is a state of being.
It has a life of its own.

Real lasting peace is born of creative jumble and hard work. Victories are never won by the one who has the most power - wars, yes - but not a state of peace.
Papa's Marbles. Not a pretty one in the bunch.
Every one brown or taupe. Almost every one.
I started thinking this week about those times in my life
when I first felt real peace.
For me, it came in the presence of God at an early age. Not because I am privileged or special. But simply because I was loved. Unconditionally.

Sometimes it takes just one person to unlock magic in someone else.
I watched that kind of magic flow through my grandfather's life. He was in tune with who he was. He knew the simple meaning of love.
He knew how to pray.

I often wondered how other people sensed that about him without the benefit of those life-giving hugs he saved just for me.

He chose the color himself.
Papa.....he must have spent hours honing that rock.

I often went with him to backwoods church services. Informal revivals, formal services, anywhere there was special music and a spirit of God - he was there. I can't explain it really. We would visit churches and the minister would ask him to lead the invocation or say the benediction - even though they'd never met. How did they know he could pray? I knew he could pray......but how did they know?

Taking his hat off and bowing his head, he would very quietly hold audience with his Maker. It didn't matter how many people were listening. His prayers always began the same way......"Dear Gracious Heavenly Father......"
No matter where. Or with whom. Or in front of whom.

Hat in hand. Head bowed. He knew how to reach God.
And people sensed that when they met him.
If peace can be worn like a garment then he was always finely clothed, my Papa.

One night he took me by the hand and led me to the altar with him. He knelt down on one knee, elbow resting on the other and silently voiced his heart. I was right there! I heard the whole thing and he never said a word.

He made them with his own hands. He molded them into shape.
Created them and lovingly took care of them. He chose the color.
Not a sonata or a novel. Certainly nothing brilliant or fancy.
Just ordinary marbles.

Tonight I'm sitting at my table writing stories on an electronic device that sends messages to people halfway around the world about globe graphics and insomnia, making pots of endless coffee to stay awake, answering emails from Germany, London, China, New York, Oman and beyond.

Could Papa have ever imagined such a thing?

Did he?

What was he praying about all that time anyway?
Papa's marbles.....There's something odd about them.

Oh forget about it. They're just a bunch of rocks. You've got a story to write. Can't you think of something brilliant? It's past midnight and everyone has their peace globe up but you.

I struggled. There's something missing here, I thought.
It's about Papa. I can't stop thinking about him.


What would he say to me tonight? How would he pray?


The marbles.
Look closer.

When it hit me, I was way past the point of arguing with myself about miracles and such. I've seen too many come through my mailbox today to argue with God about that.

Do you see it?
The blue one on top.


It looks like a globe.


Dona Nobis Pacem did not start with Mimi. It started in 1920 when a little boy in the rural southeastern United States decided to shape a small blue marble -
for his granddaughter.


And that's how it started.
With a visit from my grandfather and a bowl of handmade marbles. Now it's time for you to continue the story and spread the message of a peaceful world from your own places of rest, in your own voice. Tonight, from every corner of the globe I see little blue marbles....I mean globes.......and they are a beautiful, beautiful sight.
This is Mimi Pencil Skirt reporting live from the lovely land of the Peace Globes.
See you tomorrow.
Dona nobis pacem
Grant us peace



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21 comments:

Jamie said...

The sun is rising on the lands down under, and so the Blog Blast for Peace begins .

Travis Cody said...

It's time. I'm ready.

Dona Nobis Pacem.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Beautiful story, lovingly told, Mimi, as always. Tomorrow thousands of blue globes will make your grandpa smile with pride!

Dawn (Twisted Sister) said...

Ready and waiting :)

Akelamalu said...

I'm ready m'deario. x

Terica said...

I found your blog hours ago and was so excited I went to FB to tell everyone and forgot to comment, lol
fabulous !
Buzzing around as we Bees do checking out Peace Blogblast .
Having a great adventure !
Peace

Annelisa said...

How I love that story...I've gone all goose-pimply....

Mimi, and all peace bloggers who come this way over the coming weeks, months, year..., you have made life a whole lot better!

Peace to you, Mims, and peace to you all... xx

Vinny "Bond" Marini said...

We are going to rock it...12:01 am central time for mine

ciara said...

i'm going to get my peace post ready tonight. can't wait for tomorrow :o)

here's to peace! xo

Lisa said...

Yay! Peace!

My captcha is "upings" That seems appropriate as I hope we are all "uping" the peace vibe to 100%!

Jamie said...

We are going to have our work cut out for us sharing all the sites. Have fun.

Julia Smith said...

I'm live!

Peace to all.

Finding Pam said...

Mimi, I am looking forward to tomorrow. I hope the internet is filled with lots and lots of peace globes.

Dona Nobis Pacem

Ruth said...

Proud to be part of a BlogBlast For Peace.

Lelé Batita said...

Hello Mimi
I made a mistake and I put my name twice. Nº 43 and again 140... Sorry! How to "undo" that?

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Peace~an idea whose time has come!

Tarheel Rambler said...

I'm early for every engagement I go to, Mimi, so my post is up. It's going to be a great day tomorrow. For many of us, the focus will be on peace instead of selfish pursuits.

Ferd said...

2 hours to go!!!!!
oooh oooh oooh I'm so excited!!!

I'm trying to find the early peace posters, the ones with no patience, with impulse control problems, so I can start reading some peace posts NOW!!! I guess I'll start with Lee! LOL

Julie said...

Just call me "Last minute Julie"!

**rushes back to finishing her peace post**

cookievf said...

What a special story, Mimi ~ "your heart light" is speaking loud and clear!

Off to post, email, upload, tweet, blogsurf ~ WHEW! EXCITING STUFF! Gotta run,
peace be with you and yours,
- vicki xo

CyberCelt said...

Mimi, they should take my blogging hat away. I put my name in the linky and waited a goodly time. Then I did it again . . . again.

Number 66 is me. Number 191 is me. Please delete 192-195.

I actually do have another peace blog at http://advertising-for-success.blogspot.com, BUT I ain't touching your Mr. Linky. ;=)

Sorry to make a mess, but that is the story of my life. Couldn't fit THAT on a 1000 Peace Globe.

Namaste,


eileen aka CyberCelt

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