youth

The Children

There is hardly a week that flies past without another disturbing report on the nightly news about the increasing problem of school bullying. Nasty incidents, that frequently seem to end in utter tragedy. It simply breaks the heart. And no one seems to know exactly what to do.

No doubt we had bullies when I was a child, but nothing ever escalated to the jagged heights upon which we are now teetering. If anything unpleasant occurred back then, parents stepped in pretty vigorously and harmony was restored fairly quickly. We all knew what behaviour was acceptable and what was not. Real cruelty was not something we confronted often.

Of course, our cultural influences were much different in those days. Children did not grow up listening to the sort of vitriol that floods our airwaves now. They never sang along to coarse and violent song lyrics that celebrate the sordid and the depraved. They did not see so-called “reality” television shows that seek to debase and humiliate others for sport. Radio personalities did not build entire careers on their infamous abilities to insult and incite. News stations never screamed rumour as fact, never peddled fear and intolerance in their rabid desire to tickle the ears of the ignorant.

Walter Cronkite never called someone an idiot.

There were exceptions of course, but in general, whatever our personal feelings, our public faces had a bit more dignity and, consequently, the national discourse was more interesting and beneficial to all.

I am not certain when it happened, what the catalyst was that caused the seismic shift to start our society off on the journey to the sad place in which we now sit. Some say it was the assassination of President Kennedy. A brutal jolt that forever killed our collective innocence, leading us, over the years, to gradually jettison the values we once revered as true and good. Others say it was Watergate, and the distrust and disdain that was hatched in those years. I do know that the time honoured values of courtesy, respect, kindness, and grace seem to now be painfully absent at every turn, and never more so than in this, another election year.

There is actually someone now running for governor of New York who claims to be basing his entire campaign on “anger”. He has vowed to “take a baseball bat” with him to the State Capitol. He refers to those with whom he disagrees as “leeches”, “pigs” and “wimps”. And, worse.

What a sad foundation from which to seek to govern.

From Alaska to Washington, in blue states and in red, when children grow up listening to adults behave in ways such as this, seeing this sort of behaviour applauded by other adults, what are they supposed to think? How are they supposed to behave?

Centuries ago, when ignorance and fear truly did rule the day, any sort of eccentricity or peccadillo could get a woman labeled a witch. (I would have been in some serious trouble.) To resolve the thorny question of her guilt, authorities devised a fool-proof plan. They would throw the unfortunate lady into the nearest lake. If she sank to the bottom and drowned, she was innocent. Hurrah! If she managed to float, she was obviously a witch and was immediately dispatched to be hanged as such.

Something about this reasoning reminds me of some of the behaviour I am witnessing today. It truly doesn’t matter how justified we may think we are, if we cannot manage to grab a tighter hold on some basic commonalities of human kindness and restraint - if we cannot grasp the importance of doing unto others as we would be done by - then no matter who “wins”, everybody loses.

How we can expect children to behave better than their examples?

And make no mistake.

They are watching.

They are listening.

To us.

Clarice Lispector

Dentre todos os poetas que estudei , e foram muittttttttttttoooooooooossssss e em muitas línguas , Clarice sempre caminhou comigo e quando Papai faleceu , encontrei em um dos seus versos um alento ....
Saudades é a prova inequívoca de que somos sensíveis ...http://youtu.be/jUrf4uqboXE

a blessed hymn

http://youtu.be/d0ybUpuLn8M

There is a green hill far away,
without a city wall,
where our dear Lord was crucified
who died to save us all.

We may not know, we cannot tell,
what pains he had to bear,
but we believe it was for us
he hung and suffered there.

He died that we might be forgiven,
he died to make us good,
that we might go at last to heaven,
saved by his precious blood.

There was no other good enough
to pay the price of sin,
he only could unlock the gate
of heaven and let us in.

O dearly, dearly has he loved!
And we must love him too,
and trust in his redeeming blood,
and try his works to do.

Essa peça musical ,muito inspirada foi cantada no funeral de meu pai , escolhida por nos pela singela e pela riqueza de sua mensagem que fala dos campos verdejantes do Céu , e da certeza da salvação .

a poem

IF JESUS CAME TO YOUR HOUSE

If Jesus came to your home

To spend a day or two--

If He came unexpectly,

I wonder what you would do..



Oh, I know you'd give your nicest room

to such an honoured Guest.

And all the food you'd serve Him

would be the very best.

And you'd keep assuring Him

you're glad to have Him there--

That serving Him in your home

is joy beyond compare.



But when you see Him coming

would you meet Him at the door

With arms outstreched in welcome

to your Heavenly Visitor?



Or would you have to change your clothes

before you let Him in,

Or hide some magazines,

and put the Bible where they had been?



Would you turn off the radio

and hope He hadn't heard.

And wish you hadn't uttered

that last loud , hasty word?



Would you hide your worldlly music

and put some hymm books out?

Could you let Jesus right in ,

or would you rush about?



And I wonder if the Saviour

spent a day or two with you.

Would you go right on doing

the things you always do?



Would you go on saying

the things you always say?

Would life for you continue

as it does from day to day?



Would your family conversation

keep it's usual pace,

And would you find it hard each meal

to say the table grace?



Would you sing the songs you always sing,

and read the books you read,

And let Him know the things

on which your mind and spirit feed?



Would you take Jesus with you

everywhere you planned to go,

Or would you , maybe, change your plans

for just a day or so?



Would you be glad to have Him

meet your very closest friends,

Or would you hope they stay away

until His visit ends?



Would you be glad to have Him

stay forever on and on,

Or would you sigh with great relief

when He at last was gone?



It might be interesting to knowthe things

that you would do,

If Jesus came in person to spend some

time with you...



---Author Unknown...

DIA DOS DIREITOS DA MULHER

Hoje NÃO é o Dia da mulher

 É o Dia internacional dos direitos da mulher. Não percebe a diferença? Eu te explico. Sabe quando você vai em um restaurante chique e o garçom te serve antes de servir o homem que esta na sua mesa? Então, ele não esta sendo gentil nem educado, ele so esta seguindo uma tradição que vem de longa data, quando naqueles imensos banquetes as mulheres eram servidas primeiro, para que os homens pudessem saborear os seus pratos ainda quentes. Sacou a sutileza? Ficamos tão contentes com a "delicadeza", que sequer enxergamos o machismo por tras dela.

Uma das aulas mais interessantes que  darei esse semestre é a que trata sobre o feminismo. Nunca gostei dessa palavra e nunca quis me associar à ela. Como nunca achei a mulher melhor em nada que o homem (nem pior, diga-se de passagem), me mantive distante também das feministas. Como se fosse possivel ser mulher e não ser feminista, bobinha. Essa nova aula tirou do meu imaginario um monte de pré-conceitos e colocou no lugar deles uma realidade que a gente vive todos os dias e não vê. Ou finge que não vê. Os 120 minutos que passo espremida na sala de aula me fazem pensar em assuntos que nunca receberam muito a minha atenção. Percebi, por exemplo, que quase todas as minhas amigas são machistas, inclusive as que acham que não são.

Dai eu chego em casa, tiro os sapatos e me deito no sofa. Enquanto viajo nos meus questionamentos, ouço um barulho de agua corrente vindo da cozinha,. meu marido, lavando a louça que eu não tive tempo de lavar depois de tomar o meu café. Sem eu precisar pedir. Também é ele quem faz as compras as vezes.  E mais: além de não deixar faltar o meu pão integral de todas as manhãs, (aos sabados e domingos o cardapio muda e eu tenho direito a suco de laranja com pão na chapa, ). Às sextas, ele me traz flores. Toda sexta-feira. Doze anos de casados.

Impossivel não pensar nas colegas de classe que chegam em casa e encontram os homens, seja o pai, o marido ou um namorado. Homens que, provavelmente, vão lhes dar flores ou parabéns nesse 8 de março, um dia do calendario dedicado à luta das mulheres, que os homens conseguiram encher de machismo, como, alias, acontece nos outros 364 dias do ano. E a gente vai na onda, aceitando os parabéns, se contentando com as flores. Tão facil dizer que os homens precisam aprender, de uma vez por todas, qual o papel da mulher na sociedade. Dificil é entender que essa lição precisa ser absorvida, antes de mais nada, pelas proprias mulheres. Homens machistas são paridos e educados por mulheres, não esqueça.

um pouco da nossa arte

Gosto muito de fotos e de praia , quando consigo conciliar  ... bem aí vira arte só . Acrescentendo então uma boa música , bem aí só compartilhando mesmo !!
Voilá ....http://youtu.be/vg1xlLufxIU

just thinking...

  I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress,
and grow brave by reflection. -- Leonardo da Vinci

Pai, começa o começo ...

Quando eu era criança e pegava uma tangerina para descascar, corria para meu pai e pedia:

- Pai, começa o começo!

O que eu queria era que ele fizesse o primeiro rasgo na casca, o mais difícil e resistente para as minhas pequenas mãos. Depois, sorridente, ele sempre acabava descascando toda a fruta para mim..

Mas, outras vezes, eu mesmo tirava o restante da casca a partir daquele primeiro rasgo providencial que ele havia feito.

Meu pai faleceu há algum tempo e há anos, muitos, não sou mais criança.

Mesmo assim, sinto grande desejo de tê-lo ainda ao meu lado para, pelo menos, “começar o começo” de tantas cascas duras que encontro pelo caminho.

Hoje, minhas “tangerinas” são outras.

Preciso “descascar” as dificuldades do trabalho, os obstáculos dos relacionamentos com amigos, os problemas no núcleo familiar, o esforço diário que é a construção do casamento, os retoques e pinceladas de sabedoria na imensa arte de viabilizar filhos realizados e felizes, ou então, o enfrentamento sempre tão difícil de doenças, perdas, traumas, separações, mortes, dificuldades financeiras e, até mesmo, as dúvidas e conflitos que nos afligem diante de decisões e desafios.

Em certas ocasiões, minhas tangerinas transformam-se em enormes abacaxis.

Lembro-me, então, que a segurança de ser atendido pelo papai quando lhe pedia para “começar o começo” era o que me dava a certeza que conseguiria chegar até ao último pedacinho da casca e saborear a fruta.

O carinho e a atenção que eu recebia do meu pai me levaram a pedir ajuda a Deus, meu Pai do Céu, que nunca morre e sempre está ao meu lado. Meu pai terreno me ensinou que Deus, o Pai do Céu, é eterno e que Seu amor é a garantia das nossas vitórias.

Quando a vida parecer muito grossa e difícil, como a casca de uma tangerina para as mãos frágeis de uma criança, lembre-se de pedir a Deus: “Pai, começa o começo!”.

Ele não só “começará o começo”, mas resolverá toda a situação para você.

Não sei que tipo de dificuldade eu e você estamos enfrentando ou encontraremos pela frente neste ano. Sei apenas que vou me garantir no Amor Eterno de Deus para pedir, sempre que for preciso: “Pai, começa o começo  .

O FANTÁSTICO MUNDO DE QUEM LÊ

 Existe momento na vida mais singular do que aquele que nos capacita juntar as letrinhas, que repletas de sons se decodificam em mensagens, que levamos conosco pro resto da vida .Que nos fazem viajar pelo mundo da imaginação , que nos ensinam a ser fortes ,esperançosos .Os livros assim como os seus autores são como o corpo e alma ,devem estar sempre juntos .Pensando nestes livros desejei homenagear aqui a ínumeros escritores que não vou relacionar , pois não quero cometer injustiças !! Vida longa aos livros , aos autores e a nós leitores !!!o fantástico mundo dos livros

as razões do meu amor

Amo-te Por Todas as Razões e Mais UmaPor todas as razões e mais uma. Esta é a resposta que costumo dar-te quando me perguntas por que razão te amo. Porque nunca existe apenas uma razão para amar alguém. Porque não pode haver nem há só uma razão para te amar.
Amo-te porque me fascinas e porque me libertas e porque fazes sentir-me bem. E porque me surpreendes e porque me sufocas e porque enches a minha alma de mar e o meu espírito de sol e o meu corpo de fadiga. E porque me confundes e porque me enfureces e porque me iluminas e porque me deslumbras.
Amo-te porque quero amar-te e porque tenho necessidade de te amar e porque amar-te é uma aventura. Amo-te porque sim mas também porque não e, quem sabe, porque talvez. E por todas as razões que sei e pelas que não sei e por aquelas que nunca virei a conhecer. E porque te conheço e porque me conheço. E porque te adivinho. Estas são todas as razões.
Mas há mais uma: porque não pode existir outra como tu.

The capital of Samba

http://vimeo.com/37157187

Meu mote

On VaLENTINE'S DAY

Para você, desejo o sonho realizado. O amor esperado. A esperança renovada. Para você, desejo todas as cores desta vida..." Boom dia!!!

our life in a film

Well, If I would have to choose a film to tell my story , this really would be the onehttp://youtu.be/1KCNdcC2Xu0

the two sides of everything

Parabéns pra nós

São doze anos , parece que foi ontem , uma vida construída com o nosso empenho , nosso talento e acima de tudo o amor que Deus nos inspira . Sou muito feliz ao teu lado , sou bem mais na tua companhia . Que Deus , nosso Pai Bondoso nos guie , nos dê saúde para assim vivermos até quando Ele nos permitir.  I DO LOVE YOU !!

Gosto muito de Fernando Pessoa

 e acredito que este vídeo  diz tudo http://youtu.be/gn5gUis_HTo

Deus está sempre conosco

Como é bom poder planejar e saber que Deus caminha conosco http://youtu.be/e9MjOIY6cCQ

STOP BULLYING !!

Bullying is really non sense at all !!http://youtu.be/my5NHXN9k5A. Share this video if you were touched by it !

about the internet

Both freedom of speech and privacy are fundamental rights, which are equally recognised in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, by international conventions such as the European Convention on Human Rights, and in many national constitutions. How do they relate to each other?




It is generally thought that these two rights must be in conflict with each other, and sometimes that is the case, most notably when a tabloid newspaper or a blogger wants to reveal something about a celebrity’s private life – particularly intimate details of her sex life – which she would prefer to keep to herself and a few friends. But quite often privacy is necessary for freedom of speech (or expression). Friends and lovers cannot communicate openly with each other, unless they are sure that their conversations will not be overheard and filed by the government or repeated in the mass media. Even political conversations may require privacy, as when civil servants and ministers, or coalition partners, discuss sensitive matters of policy; they may not want to disclose – at least for the time being – their conversations to the general public, and some courts, notably, the German Constitutional Court have held that they can be protected as a matter of privacy.



But how should conflicts between privacy and freedom of speech be resolved? The law cannot protect both rights when these conflicts arise – neither is absolutely protected. My view is that we have to ask what the value of the speech in the particular case is and compare it with the importance of the privacy, which would be sacrificed if freedom of speech is given priority over it. If the speech – say, an article in a newspaper or a blog – contributes to important political or social debate and does not intrude greatly on intimate details about an individual’s private life – say, it mentions in passing only her dietary preferences or what she wore at a dinner party – freedom of expression should win over privacy. But if the article reveals intimate details of a celebrity’s sexual life or medical history, privacy should win, because it is hard to see how such disclosure can contribute to an important public debate.



Of course, there are some very difficult issues in this area. How much privacy does a politician sacrifice when she enters public life? Suppose a tabloid paper reveals that she took drugs at university and justifies publication of that story with the argument that voters are entitled to know the moral record of someone who is standing for election as a member of parliament? On the other hand, can it be argued that even politicians are entitled to some privacy, because otherwise few people, except the crassly insensitive, will enter public life and further, few, if any of us, have an unimpeachable moral record? I think that even a degree of hypocrisy may be justified as an essential element of privacy; we are surely all entitled to say to strangers that, “We are in good health and spirits,” even though we have been told earlier that day that we have a serious illness or that our partner wants to end the relationship. Privacy gives everyone a right to control what information is divulged to whom.



The courts in England in the last few years have frequently given orders to the press not to publish stories of little public interest which infringe the personal privacy of celebrities, particularly those revealing the behaviour of footballers off the pitch. Then comes the hard question, whether these orders can be made effective against bloggers and tweeters who reveal the name of the footballer or details of his behaviour. Bloggers can claim individual freedom of expression and then the press can argue that the story is now in the public domain because it is all over the internet. Another hard question is whether resolution of these conflicts can be left to the courts or should be handled by some informal tribunal or body such as the UK Press Complaints Commission; it costs several thousand pounds to get a court order, well beyond the means of most people. But the existence of these difficult issues should not lead us to abandon privacy rights altogether, for without their effective protection much individual autonomy and intimacy would be lost