There are times when you wake up and wish you had not.  Nothing hurts; no pain in your body; family, friends, and neighbors are all excelling, and you are looking forward to the day ahead. Even though your day is scheduled so tight that you can hardly breathe, all is well with your world.  Yet, your early morning wake up disturbs you. You feel strange, restless, exposed, but to what you cannot say.

Like Job, you get up and while drinking your first cup of coffee:

  • You receive news about a death,
  • You feel a pain in a part of your body that is unfamiliar to you,
  • You read an email ending a treasured friendship,
  • Your boss informs you by phone, you have been put on the redundant list,
  • Your husband gets ill,
  • Your child is expelled from school,
  • Your bank check is not honored due to lack of funds,
  • Your old and faithful car needs some serious repairs that you were no aware of,
  • You’ve misplaced some important documents that you cannot find.

When events like this start taking place that take control of your life out of your hands, hold on, you’re caught-on-your-blindside.

Caught-on-your-blindside takes place without your being forewarned.  The night before you were dancing to the beat of boogie down baby, or half-heartedly listening to the woes of a friend as you planned your week, or trying to choose which securities you would buy with your bonus for signing on a desired customer for your company.

Suddenly occurrences take place that shake up your entire small world, and as you sit there wondering what will happen next, you yearn to hide yourself because the view in your life has been blocked––you’re caught-on-your-blindside.

That is what happened to the woman who had been given a son.  Married to an older man, she didn’t expect to have a child. She befriended the Prophet out of the kindness of her heart:

Her hospitality towards him,

Her consideration,

Her unselfishness,

Gave her the desire of her heart–a son.

Her son became ill while visiting the father in the fields, and he sent him home to his mother. She did all she knew to comfort him, but the child died as he sat in her lap.  Bang!  She was caught-on-her-blindside.

There is no way to escape being caught-on-your-blindside; No one is exempt:  Like David, before he became king, you run away from crazed people and sour incidences that test your commitment and your reason to live.  That you can’t see what is on the side of you, whether left or right, or even see through your rear window is natural:  And your front windshield is clouded over by foggy incidences that come at you, one after the other:  They block your view.

You can’t avoid the blindside either: many have tried, but all have failed.

Caught-on-your-blindside is not

A cultural thing,

A medical disease or sickness,

A mental illness,

A race problem,

A lack of intelligence,

A behavioral issue of whether you are good or bad,

Or something you did wrongly.

It does not stem from our bad choices.

It is a shy phenomena that pops up unexpectedly, tests our character, our integrity, our beliefs, and then it leaves just as stealthily as it came––in its own time.

It never wears out its welcome.

The year 2013 came in with a bang, and I welcomed in the year with gratitude in my heart. Yet, that did not exempt me from waking up at 2 AM on the very first day of the year, with a strange feeling. I felt as if I were losing ground under my feet, although I was lying in bed. When the first unexpected incident took place, I was speechless: It hit me in my gut:  I was caught-on-my-blindside.

Like Esther, I sat back and learned to hold on until my time had passed: There was no other option.

Family and friends cannot help you when you are caught-on-your-blindside.  They may give you advice, but usually, it doesn’t work. It may, however, ease your pain, make you laugh, or comfort you for a couple of minutes, but it doesn’t stop the occurrences from happening. You are caught-on-your-blindside.

What do you do when you are caught-on-your-blindside?

Being caught-on-my-blindside forced me to run to the source of my existence.

If anyone knew what was happening,

If anyone had the control,

If anyone had solutions,

It was the Creator whom I have given my complete trust.  Sure, there were days when I thought this will never end, but again, like Abraham, the father of the faith, I hoped against hope because God is faithful: He keeps his promises, one hundred percent.

So, if you wake up and find yourself caught-on-your-blindside, run to the source of your existence and ride it through until you have been given the ability to see clearly again.

Job did:

The woman with the son did:

Esther did:

David did.

Afterward they smiled: They were no longer caught-on-their-blindsides.  

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Pat Garcia

The Champions Who Walked Among Us – Article 16 – The Grass Rooter

The United States had just entered the third year of the twentieth century when this infant girl opened her eyes in Norfolk, Virginia.

The year: 1903

The month: December

The Day:  the 13th

Little did she know that the quiet soul of one of America’s famous freedom fighters would depart life’s stage nine years, two months and twenty-eight days, after her entry on earth.  Neither did she know she would develop into a role similar to that of an earthworm, which converts organic matter into humus and improves the fertility of  the soil.

Like the earthworm, this baby would deliberately work the underground with her beliefs, with her philosophy as she reached out to ordinary people to help them to understand the system in opposition to the leaders of her time.  She gave people insight into the meticulous workings of democracy and proclaimed that strong people were more valuable than having one strong leader.  Raised up to educate enrich the soil necessary for advancement, she would become The Grass Rooter.

At the age of seven, her parents decided to move the family back to her mother’s hometown, a small rural area in Littleton, North Carolina.

It was here that the young girl was prepared for her purpose in life,

  • As she sat at the feet of grandmother listening to historical events that she had lived through,
  • As her   attention was captivated by the woman, when she talked about the degradation received through being whipped because of her refusal to marry her master’s choice of husband,
  • As she learned the unknown history of people that had not been recorded in the history books. 

Here, her hunger was satisfied for knowledge of the past, and her thirst was quenched as she waited on her future. The Grass Rooter incubated in the soil and grew in wisdom.

At the age of twenty-seven, The Grass Rooter graduated from Shaw University as the class valedictorian.  She left North Carolina–– her destination, New York City.

Because she saw the problem, The Grass Rooter began her work.  It had been played out before her eyes while living in North Carolina. She had a solution and was not unafraid to share it. The Grass Rooter believed firmly that the success of any nation rested upon the people at the bottom understanding the processes of legislation and government because the strength of any nation comes from the ground up and not from the top down.  Thus, she strove to inform and educate.  The Grass Rooter stretched her arms out to all. It was never a black/white issue with her.

“We are not fighting for the freedom of the Negro alone, but for the freedom of the human spirit, a larger freedom that encompasses all mankind.”(1)

Opposition came as is expected when it comes to educating the masses. Many leaders  reacted to this new way of thinking. They belittled the intelligence of the people by insisting that they must be led instead of taught. However, The Grass Rooter did not let this stop her: she increased her efforts and expanded her influence. She was one of the main proponents of Participatory Democracy.

1940, her election as a secretary with the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) pivoted her into a position where she could help people.  She traveled throughout the South, knocking on doors, recruiting people, and implementing plans that mobilized the masses. Her hard work paid off.

In 1943, she was elected as the director of the branches. The first woman to hold this position, but her stance against elitism brought her face-to-face confrontation with the male leaders of the organization. Outspoken about her beliefs and her egalitarian ideas, she forced the leadership to decentralize its structure.

1957, The Grass Rooter traveled to Atlanta, Georgia, the home of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, better known to some as the SCLC.  Black ministers of the South had come together to initiate change within the society they were living in. She quickly earned the reputation as an organizer. The success of the Voter Registration Campaign in the South is mainly due to her organizational skills. However, three years of working with the SCLC showed her that her ideas were far beyond comprehension for the male leadership: She left the organization in 1960.

How do you react when you realize the withholding of knowledge causes the ignorance of the people? 

Would you work behind the scenes without any recognition and educate others?

1960, The Grass Rooter became involved with students from the South who had decided that enough was enough.

  • Location:  F. W. Woolworth
  • Target:  the lunch counter where so many black college students were allowed to work but not to sit down and eat.  

Four college students challenged the Jim Crow laws practiced within the state, and the Grass Rooter rose to the pinnacle of her crowning moment as an activist.  She pushed the SCLC to listen to these students and support them in their step of defiance.  Out of this protest, The Students for Non Violent Coordinating Committee better known as SNCC was born.

Wow, what a woman!

What dedication to her calling!

Wherever there was a need to bring understanding to the people, regardless of whether it was,

  • The NAACP,
  • The Voter Registration in the South,
  • The organization of the SCLC, 
  • The birth of the SNCC,
  • Speaking out against Apartheid in South Africa,
  • Standing up for the Puerto Rican Freedom movement,
  • Support for the International Women Movement for Freedom and Peace,

The Grass Rooter, the woman who believed in Social Change starting at the grassroots was somewhere in the background laying down fundamental principles that still apply today.

Ms. Ella Baker, the controversial woman

  • That was not keened on the elite
  • That was wary of anyone who was not willing to educate the people at the bottom,

Was willing to be a vessel of oil that  poured out into the lives of others. She was The Grass Rooter.

The year was 1986, the month December, the date: the 13th and The Grass Rooter, Ms. Ella Baker, eighty-three years old and still excelling in her call, still fulfilling her purpose in life was getting ready to celebrate her birthday.  Instead of celebrating, she heard the trumpet blow. It was time for her to Walk On.

Can’t you see her people?  She heard the call on her birthday; eighty-three years later, and Ms Ella Baker Walked On!

Can’t you see her as she smiled and looked  behind her at her legacy?

“What did you do, Ms. Ella Baker?

Tell me, what did you do?” asked the Prophet.

“Not much,” said the woman. “Not much.

Just organized the NAACP,

Educated and informed the masses,

Stopped over in Atlanta and organized the SCLC,

Went to the country towns down there in the South,

And set up Voter registration so it could move effectively.

Listened to the Students in Greensboro North Carolina,

Helped them to get support,

Marched with the Puerto Rican Freedom Movement,

Stuck my nose into the International Women Movement,

Kept my hands busy by standing up against Apartheid.

Not much,”  she said, “Not much.”

The Prophet laughed and asked, “Is that all?”

Ms. Ella Baker, The Grass Rooter, the Proponent of Social Change, the Activist that reached out to the people at the bottom, looked back at The Prophet and said with a bit of humor in her voice, “That’s all,” Prophet. “That’s all.”

 She Walked on people, Ms. Ella Baker Walked on!

Don’t tell me you can’t fulfill your purpose in life,

Sure it may be hard,

It may be that you aren’t recognized,

And no one knows you exist.

But fulfill your purpose in life.

Sooner or later,

You will rise.

Walk on People, I say, Walk On!

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Pat Garcia



But It’s Mother’s Day

What do you hear,” the child asked the Prophet, curious to know what was happening below the heavenly atmosphere they lived in, “What do you hear?”

“I hear mothers mourning over the lost of their young.”

“But it’s Mother’s Day,” the child replied.

“Oh, how well I know that,” answered the Prophet.

“So tell me what do you hear, Prophet? What do you hear?”  The child in its naivety thought the earth had gotten better.

“Silence, child, I hear a faint rumbling coming up from a far.”

“All right, I won’t let out one peeps, but promise me you’ll tell me what you hear?” And the child dance around the Prophet with joyous expectations.

“You have my promise. I will only tell you what I hear.”  Suddenly, the Prophet covered his ears. “Oh the rumble, it’s terrible,” shouted the Prophet. “It gets louder and louder.”

“Surely, it is the sound of  the people on earth celebrating and cheering as they honor their mothers,” the Child said.

“Shh, now, I hear it clearly,” The Prophet commanded.

“What is it?” The Child asked.

“It sounds like gunfire going off in schools, at homes, on streets––children killing children.”

“But it’s Mother’s Day.”

“Oh, How well I know that.” The Prophet mumbled.

“So tell me something good. Tell me of the songs you hear, or the flowers you see, or children honoring their mothers with surprises on this beautiful Mother’s Day.”

“Wait!” Said the Prophet. “Be still. I hear another cry”

“Oh, goodie. It’s about time you heard a beautiful cry.”

The prophet began to cry before the child, and he began to beat his hands against his breast.

What wrong, Prophet, what’s wrong? Tell me, what did you hear?”

“Like Rachel crying for her young ones over two thousand years ago, I hear mothers wailing; painful moans, no man can ever imagine, coming up out of the heart of women: mothers wailing for the lost of their young.”

“But it’s Mother’s Day, Prophet.”

“Oh, how well I know that,” the Prophet answered.

“So, what do you see on this beautiful day for mothers everywhere,” the child asked, hoping the Prophet would report about the presents that made mommies happy on their special day. Maybe, just maybe,  the child thought, the Prophet will let me look down and see the celebrations.

“Shall I tell you what I hear? Maybe then you’ll understand what I’m saying,” the Prophet said.

“All right.  Tell me, what do you hear, Prophet?  What do you hear?”

“I hear mothers wailing for the lost of their young;

Children, whose lives have been cut off by drunken drivers;

Children, whose lives are stopped short by guns in the hands of distorted minds;

Children, whose lives are prematurely ended by the scalpel;

Children, whose lives are snuffed out by bombs as they sleep;

Children, whose lives have been contaminated––destroyed by chemicals dropped from the air as man fights against man.

I see little people, like you, child, who have no voice

To speak out,

To protest,

To vote;

Their lives have been taken away without their consent.”

“But it’s Mother’s Day, Prophet. It’s Mother’s Day.

“Oh, how well I know that!” The Prophet answered.


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Pat Garcia

A Special Mother’s Day Tribute and the Introduction to the Article, But It’s Mother’s Day

This year’s Mother’s Day article, But It’s Mother’s Day, is a tribute to all those mothers who have lived through the agony of having a child precede them in death.  No mother expects to see her child leave this earth before she does: it is the mother’s heart that dreams of life–long life– for her children even before they are born.

I would also like to salute two women whom I have come to love, respect, and admire.

Micki Peluso, author of And The Whippoorwill Sang,[1] whose daughter’s life was cut off by a drunken driver.  Micki tells Noelle’s story, and therefore her own story with heart. Full of humor and wit, And The Whippoorwill Sang draws you into the Peluso family: it also takes you through a gamut of emotions from anger to hatred, to laughter, to tears that will force you to support a zero tolerance for people who drink and drive.

Linda Halpin is the author of an upcoming book about her son, Louie, who was shot down in New York City. As a mother, she was suddenly thrown into the woes of lost.  Louie was a child with a promise, a future boxer whose future stopped on a fatal afternoon as he innocently visited his friends. Linda’s book is expected to be release sometime this year.

Both of these women have gone through the dark night of their souls, and they have come through it with renewed strength to step up to the plate and speak out against violence that has been done, not only against their children, but against children all over the world.

Happy Mother’s Day!

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Pat Garcia

[1] Peluso, Micki,  And The Whippoorwill Sang,

The Champions Who Walked Among Us – Article 15 – The Dark Lady, The Unsung Heroine

  •  What would you do if your recognition and honor were stolen?
  •  How would you react when your research was appropriated for use without your knowledge and permission?
  •  What would you say to those who had violated one of the fundamental laws of the Hippocratic Oath of Science –– Thou shall not steal?

1868Benjamin Disraeli became  Prime Minister. The appointment lasted only a few months. General elections in the United Kingdom held that same year favored William Gladstone and his Liberal Party.[1]

1874, Disraeli returned to Parliament as Prime Minister and became the father of social reform. But after being defeated by Gladstone and his Liberals in 1880, Disraeli went into retirement and died in 1881.[2]

1914,  The First World War began.

1917, The Balfour Declaration was enacted.[3]

1918, The First World War ends.


The month:  July,

The date:  the twenty-fifth,

The day:  Sunday

In the middle of a European society filled with chaos and struggle, where mistrust and discrimination was widely practiced against a small group of people, a young baby was born into an affluent family. As her eyes opened to view the lights of the world, racism, anti-Semitism and suffrage were the dominating political and economical topics that occupied the minds of the people in the country of her birth.  Fear, envy, and jealousy surrounded her.  Suspicions throttled opportunities for this small ethnic group and the baby’s facial features pointed out with clarity her ethnicity.  The fact that she was born English could not eradicate the fact–– she was Jewish.

Born as a member of the female species, this young baby girl was unaware of the events that would hurl her into a clandestine intrigue against her and would test her ability to keep moving forward.  At the time of her birth, she could not predict that her Intellectual Property would be robbed nor would she have believed that she would become the victim of one of the most hideous crimes there is on this earth––a crime that has not been properly restituted up to this day–Espionage of knowledge.

The child was the second in the lineage from a family comprise of three boys and two girls. Her parents belonged to the Anglo-Jewry and practiced its traditions, as well as honored the traditions of the English Society, which was their birthplace.  Psychiatrist and Analyst Alfred Adler stated in his theory on birth order among children that the second child is the fighter, the challenger, the competitor sandwiched between the oldest and the middle child. This young woman certainly fitted this description.

According to my favorite biographer of her life, Brenda Maddox,[4] the young child knew her life was destined at the age of twelve. It was her dream to become a scientist, and The Dark Lady, The Unsung Heroine arose.

  • What would you do if you came into the world with your mission already defined and imbedded within your heart?

Throughout her life, the young woman thrived in a learning atmosphere. She mastered mathematics, geometry, the sciences and learned languages quickly.   Raised in an environment of love and respect, the idea that she was anything less than equal to others never came to her mind.  The Dark Lady, our Unsung Heroine was not a feminist,  yet, would suffer unjust snubs, ridicule, and recriminations–––she was Jewish.

By the time the Unsung Heroine had reached fifteen, she was in love with science. There was not a scientific topic that did not tease her analytical mind. Motivated, dedicated to her family, and with the stamina to be persistent, she was indeed unusual.

She attended Newnham, one of the two female colleges at Cambridge University, an honor that made her family extremely proud and brought her recognition as the top student upon entry with the best evaluation in Chemistry.

In 1941, The Dark Lady, the Unsung Heroine received her Bachelor’s Degree from Cambridge and also a scholarship to work on a research project concerning photochemistry.  She worked under R. G. Norris but the Second World War had begun, and our Unsung Heroine weighed her options about how she could best contribute to helping her nation during the war.  She decided to work on researching the microstructures and usage of coal for wartime purposes.  The identification of the microstructures and their reactions to each other was successful, and later led to her receiving her Ph.D. from Cambridge University and the acknowledgement and publication for five scientific papers.[5]

However, it was after this period that she began her most fruitful work, a work that would lead three men to receive the the Nobel Prize for Physiology or Medicine in 1962 for a discovery of the structures of Deoxyribonucleic Acid, known by its acronym of DNA.

The Dark Lady had spent time in France where she had experienced international renown among her colleagues, and she had returned home to England on a three-year research grant to work in the lab from John T. Randall’s Bio Physics Unit at King’s College in London. He asked her to work on his DNA research project. With her experience in x-ray diffraction, where she was considered an expert before her time, she discovered there were two forms of Deoxyribonucleic Acid, a wet and a dry form that displayed totally different pictures.  The Dark lady conducted various tests, and in 1953 she had photo picture proof that both structures were helices.[6]

Unfortunately, Maurice Wilkins sent her work to scientists, Francis Crick and James D. Watson without her knowledge.  Because he had not been assigned to work with her on the project, a rivalry began that brought our Unsung Heroine much pain. Wilkins made her life miserable during her time at King’s College. Based on her research and her pictures, Crick and Watson were able to break the mystery of the DNA structure.  However, they did not mention they had based their work on the photo pictures from The Dark Lady, our Unsung Heroine.

  • What would have been your reaction to the theft of your intellectual property?
  • How would you have reacted to failed acknowledgement of your critical research that may have rewarded you with the Nobel Prize?

The year 1954, damage relationships were irreparable, and The Dark Lady resettled herself and transferred her fellowship to J.D. Bernal’s Crystallography Laboratory at Birkbeck College.   She refused to look backward; instead she looked ahead and began working with the structures of plant viruses, which drew her international attention.  During this time, she made two trips to the North American Continent.

Can’t you see her people?

 The Dark Lady,

The Unsung Heroine of Science,

Giving her best, putting her best foot forward, no matter the circumstances and succeeding, even though she had been intellectually robbed.

The year was 1958,

The date April 16,

And one of the most prolific women of the twentieth century,

The Dark Lady,

The Unsung Heroine,

 Dr. Rosalind Elsie Franklin,

Was about to take her wings and cross over into eternity.

In 1956, this thirty-five year old woman had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Even though, she had undergone two surgeries and other treatments that brought about remission, the cancer continued to reappear. Nevertheless, The Dark Lady, The Unsung Heroine of DNA continued to gather funds for her team, until she could no longer work.  She knew time was slipping away quickly, but she wanted to leave her team well-funded.

On that particular day, in 1958, the 16th of April, it was windy in London.  The winds were strong throughout the United Kingdom.  The weather forecast predicted that the latter part of the month of April would bring extreme warm temperatures.[7] However, The Dark Lady, The Unsung Heroine of DNA was ready to rest and her eyes looked towards going home.

Can’t you see her people? 

Dr. Rosalind Elsie Franklin, The Dark Lady,

The Unsung Heroine of the Nobel Prize for Physiology or Medicine,

The woman in the background who laid the groundwork for the Double Helix,

As she lay there reminiscing over her life, taking an account of the path she had deliberately chosen to walk.

I can see her in my mind, looking back at thirty-seven years of a life well spent in public service, and in helping others by fulfilling her purpose in life. I see her smiling  as she examined her accomplishments:

  • Worked successfully on a research project in Photochemistry and achieved Bachelor’s Degree.
  • Identified the microstructures in coal and their usage for the war industry in the Second World War. Doctor’s degree followed with the publication of five scientific papers.
  • Discovered the wet and dry helical structures of Deoxyribonucleic Acid, which led to the discovery of the Double Helix.
  • Instrumental in the research of plant viruses and the tobacco mosaic virus
  • Published 19 articles on coals and carbon, five articles on DNA and 21 on Viruses
  • Was the top expert researcher in X-Ray Diffraction
  • Established a global network of contacts for my team within the research world.
  • Left more than enough financial funding to assist them.

See her through the eyes of your heart, people,

Look at this woman,

The Dark Lady,

 The Unsung Heroine of Deoxyribonucleic Acid,

As she smiled once more before she let out a sigh, and Dr.  Rosalind Elsie Franklin, the lady who laid down the groundwork for the Double Helix put on her wings, and her spirit stood up and Walked On.

She walked on, people, she walked On!  Dr. Rosalind Elsie Franklin Walked On!

Walk On all you weary people who have been misunderstood, abused, or misused.

Stand tall and keep walking, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

Hold your head up high,

Walk On, I say, Walk On.

01 Walk On

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Pat Garcia

*Some facts after Dr. Rosalind Elsie Franklin’s departure:

In 1962 Francis Crick, James D. Watson and Maurice Wilkins received the Nobel Prize for Physiology or Medicine for the Double Helix. None of the three men mentioned that his work was based on the pictures they had illegally taken from the work of Dr. Rosalind Elsie Franklin.

1968 Watson published his memoirs in which he portrayed Dr. Rosalind Elsie Franklin in a derogatory manner.

1975 Franklin’s friend, Anne Sayre wrote a rebuttal, which began to uncover the truth about the discovery of the Double Helix.  However, a posthumous Nobel Prize award for Dr. Rosalind Elsie Franklin regarding her critical role that led to this discovery has not yet been rectified.

[4] Maddox, Brenda,   Rosalind Franklin, The Dark Lady of DNA, HarperCollins e-books, 2002 in the United Kingdom by HarperCollins Publishers.


(8), permission requested.

Learning From The Past- An Introduction To This Year’s (2013) Walk On Series

Hello Everyone,

I would like to thank you for your loyal support of my Walk On Series during the year of 2012.  It is an exhilarating feeling and an emotional high for me when I research the ladies I have chosen to learn about and pass on to you my reader.

This is the first article for this year, and it was an intentional delay.  The time needed to choose whose life I would become involved in demands that I look at the women carefully.  They become a part of me, and therefore, the Walk On Series always starts in March and ends in November.

Even though dead, these women live on, and the legacies they left behind astonish me every time I start digging.  I must admit that I learn enormously from them.

Their strength,

To move on,

To continue to struggles,

To turn the other cheek,

To reach out and help others,

To forgive and forget,

Are just some of the lessons that have affected my own life.

What is even more shocking for me was their determination to make a difference, to change themselves, and thereby change the world they lived in.

I sincerely hope these women of the past that I present this year will be an encouragement to you, and that each of you, whether male or female will continue to

Walk On!

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Pat Garcia

Happy New Year! Happy Ground Hog Day!

Happy New Year Everyone!  Happy Ground Hog Day! Yes, I know, my New Year’s greeting is exactly thirty-one days late, and my Ground Hog Day greeting is one day too soon.  Having developed a habit of surfing under during the last half of December and the month of January each year, I use this time to take care of me, to reassess the path I travel, to listen intensively to what my inner voice is saying, and like the ground hog, I surface up one day earlier to check out the world on February 1.

According to the myths passed down through my family, if the ground hog sees it shadow we will have six more week of winter if he does not, then, spring is on its way.

I don’t know how much of that is truth, but one fact was clear for me when I surfaced out of my cubbyhole of self-inclusion this morning; the world is at war.

There is a war going on, people!  One little tiny country is being threatened by every nation surrounding it.  While some countries in another region of the world are being invaded, causing people to leave their homes and find refuge in overcrowded shelters.

Meanwhile, western civilization is securing its borders as suppression and abuse of women and children ravage throughout poverty-stricken countries.

Like the ground hog, I checked out the prognosis for a better 2013. Prognosis:  escalation of wars, more intolerance, and the continued violation of human rights.

Back to the ground hog, if he sees his shadow on February 2, he goes back into his cubbyhole and sleeps until spring. Unlike the ground hog, the luxury of sleeping until spring is out of the question for me.

So, have a good year everyone, and let us hope for a better world to come.

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Pat Garcia


Good morning everyone,
A Word of wisdom that rings out in truth.
Pat Garcia

Originally posted on LadyRomp:


View original

Very Inspiring Blogger Award

blogawardHello everyone,

A shout goes out to Raani York,, for nominating my blog series, The Champions Who Walked Among Us on my Walk On Blog for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award.

My Walk On series has turned out to be a big faith builder not only for myself, but for others as well. Examining the lives of women who have been forgotten or never recognized  has awaken power and strength within me I did not know existed.  The  courage, persistence, endurance, faith, struggles,humility, gentleness, compassion and kindness  exhibited in the characters of the Walk On women are rare jewels, which I hide in my treasure trove.

Thus, the Very Inspiring Blogger Award nomination from Raani York is very precious to me.  Once again, I thank you Raani for this nomination and on behalf of all those women who rose above the ‘I can’t do,’ to the ‘I can do’ and opened doors that allows women today to move forward, I accept it.

Women like Sophie Germain, Sojourner Truth, Clara Barton, Madam C.J. Walker, Golda Meier, Marion Andersen, and all the other women I have covered so far did not have an easy life. They came up against incredible odds, but they kept going and  changed the world.

So the rules are to post seven things about myself. Here goes,

  • I love cats and had two of them, but I don’t have one at the moment.
  • I am a fanatic when it comes to music and my tastes are universal.
  • I drink at least four to five glasses of Lactose free milk per day.
  • I read voraciously from all genres, both fiction and non-fiction and find it easy to lose myself in any book that I enjoy reading.
  • I get a kick out of dancing, from waltzing to hip hop, I love it.
  • I play chess, love bridge, bid whiz and spades.
  • A good night with four hours of sleep makes me happy.

Raani’s idea of putting the links to the blogs was a great idea, and I decided to follow in her footsteps and do the same.  Below are my nominees with their blog links, and please note I have not picked any of the blogs that Raani  and I both  follow. If I have not chosen your blog, it doesn’t mean that I don’t read your blog. It only means I have a limited number of blogs I can choose, and with sixteen I have already exceeded  my limit.

1.  Ellen Roberts Young –

2.  Tangie Bell –

3. Susan Scott –

4.  Deirdre Tolhurst –

5.  Tracee Ford –

6.  Gwynn Rogers –

7.  Carol Child –

8. Louise Malbon-Reddix –

9.  Mary Helen Ferris –

10. Selasie Bulumo –

11. Hodge Podge for  the Soul –

12. Cristian Mihai –

13.  Linda Yeazak –

14.  Elaine Couglar –

15.  Marta Merajver Kurlat –

16. Joy at 60 –

Walk On, People, Walk On!

Photo on 2011-03-31 at 13.42










Pat Garcia


Good morning everyone,
Here is a beautiful poem of hope by Selasie Bulmuo that I would like to share. All of us go through struggles, but it takes courage to renew your hope by painting a picture of a better day.
Pat Garcia

Originally posted on Selasie Bulmuo Official Site:









It’s 3am
Just can’t sleep
All night long
I’ve tossed and turned
My fate of yesterday
It’s been pretty grim
Now stressing my mind
About what tomorrow holds
Questions flitter and float about
Unanswered in the quiet night
What is it I did not do
Why am I stuck in this rut
How I envy those asleep
Who closed their eyes
And sailed away
To lands of pleasant dreams
While I stay awake
Stuck in sleepless nightmares
That simply won’t go away
Imagination’s rife
I see my future
Stretched out ahead of me
Like a blank piece of canvas
I’m an artist afraid to draw
I hear the shrill sound
The siren of an ambulance
It pierces through
The stillness of the night
Startling me out of despair
Somewhere this night
Is another soul
Fighting to stay alive
And here I…

View original 103 more words

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