I Saw A Miracle by Fifi Green

Scooter's 1st Birthday

I’m rummaging through journals for information to supplement and stimulate my memories of beginning a family forty-five years ago. I open a grubby three-ring notebook. Lots of looseleaf stuff falls out. I recognize my mother’s handwriting and squint at the title, I Saw a Miracle faintly penciled in. A coincidence? It’s her take on my Rubella story.

The sharp ring of the telephone broke the quiet evening. The call was from my daughter in El Paso. Her husband was stationed at the Ft. Bliss army base. I knew she’d been crying by her tear-strained voice. ‘Mother, have I ever had German Measles?’

A cold chill ran down my spine. I knew what was coming. Jill was in the 12th week of her first pregnancy. She’d called Easter ecstatic with the good news, after two years of waiting.

That’s her waiting not mine. I wasn’t sure I wanted a baby yet, but had stopped taking birth control.

Jill had consulted several physicians. Some advised wait-and-hope, some abortion.

No physician suggested abortion; that was my idea. In fact no legal abortions were available until 1968, after the big epidemic was running its course. She continues, putting my name in place of hers.

Abortion was a horrible word, not permitted by my daughter’s religion or her personal feelings. She would not consider it. To her it meant taking a life, perhaps a perfect life. She carried her unborn baby very bravely for the next six months, never complaining, but I knew how deeply concerned she was and how hard she must have prayed. We all prayed with her.

What? It’s my mother’s god coming out all over the place. Did I tell her that to pacify her? Or have I taken the godless views I now hold, reversed time and infiltrated them into my past? What is the truth? My memory weaves through it with a thin silver thread, periodically blinding me with its reflection.

Ray, Jill and Scooter 4 mo. Venice, Fl

Little Ray or Scooter, as his family now called him, grew more beautiful each day – golden red fuzz, eyes as blue as the ocean where he lived, white skin, pink cheeks – an exceptionally beautiful child. However, we were all watching him carefully. I had taught speech therapy before my marriage and I began to suspect that he was not hearing.

We all suspected. From early on we were banging pot lids together behind Scooter’s back. No response. I brought up our concerns to the pediatrician. He placed his watch behind his head on one side or the other and when he turned his head correctly he said, “See. He’s fine.” This was no dumb kid. He could see the hand behind him. Scooter was a year old, but wasn’t babbling or saying those first dada, mama words although he was looking intently at our faces when we spoke. With great trepidation we made an appointment for Scooter at the Shands Speech and Hearing Clinic in Gainesville, Florida.


Inspirations For Life

My horoscope nudges me:

“What images would heal and activate my mind?

Full Moon

What scenes would inspire me?”

A full moon,

Its light radiating

From a perfect kiss,

The vibrations

Fusing us together

In a slithery dance

Of mating snakes.

Morning rainbows over the sea.

Morning Rainbow

Blissful faces of the people I love.

Clear splashing rivers with kids and dogs.

Rio Morete

Perfect moments,

To meditate upon now,

To visualize for the future,

To savor in darker times.

My horoscope invited me to visualize five images that would inspire me. The four above inspired the poem. Now I add the fifth. I visualize myself selling my books Free To Bloom. I meditate on it. I savor it. I work at it.


Join me at Books1Sarasota on Main St. for a book-signing with several other local authors on Sept. 20, 2011 from 6 – 8 pm.

I am making a tour of Upstate New York independent book stores at the end of September.

In October I will return to Gainesville for another reading and book signing at Books, Inc. on 13th St. Check here or on my Free To Bloom website.

I’m trying to keep up with this blog and comment on other writers, read Writing  Your Memoir by Hunter that my son lent me on my Kindle, keep up with the latest best-sellers (I’ve got 4 going), attend my weekly writing group, and finish my latest story. Whew!

My challenge for you my faithful readers, is to visualize the five images that would inspire you and let me know what they are. Of course I would appreciate any publicity or suggestions on my book or blog.


Of Burning Books and Whirled Peace

Peace on the Santa Fe R.

I’m off to Gainesville, FL this weekend for a long planned kayak trip with family and friends on the Santa Fe River. I’m thanking my stars I’ll be on the peaceful river on Saturday the ninth anniversary of the terrorist bombing in NYC, because if I was in town I’d be tempted to put myself in danger to attend the protest rallies against the Quran burning at the 50-member evangelical Dove World Outreach. Its Reverend (?) Terry Jones has created a tornado spinning round the world with his plan to burn the holy books of Islam as examples of terrorism and the devil. Already the news has taken the Muslim world by storm with counter burnings of the American flag and the effigies of Pres. Obama and Pastor Jones that fuel the possibility of inciting more terrorist attacks.

Even the pleadings of Gen. Petraeus and the denunciations of high US government officials, including Sec. of State Hillary Clinton have done nothing to deter Jones’ resolve. Okay, at least I can attend the counter protest, joining all the other religious and secular leaders, media, and the public together for a “Gathering for Peace” on Friday night, which has received little publicity in comparison to the Quran-burning spawned by Jones.

Here comes a news flash. Terry Jones must be getting intimidated. He’s had a meeting with the local Imam and makes an announcement cancelling the Quran bonfire after getting a promise that the planned mosque in NYC will be moved away from the “ground zero” neighborhood. What? This is hard to believe.

I keep the news on as I write. The twisting tornado of the media blitz continues. Another flash –  Jones gets a call from Robert Gates, the Sec. of Defense, asking him to back down in interest of stopping the violence already started in the Muslim world. Flash. Now Jones says the Imam lied to him, and he’s changing the cancellation to a suspension! I can’t keep up and go to bed. Dreams of war and pestilence infect my mind.

Friday morning. With coffee in hand I turn on the news before I leave for Gainesville. Lo and behold, twisted pastor Jones is on network TV announcing his planned meeting with the NYC Muslims. If they agree to move the mosque he will return his suspension of the Quran bonfire to a cancellation. What kind of messages is Jones’ God giving him? What kind of cat and mouse game is the world playing? I can’t wait to float down the quiet Santa Fe R. meditating on the image of world peace and tolerance. I hope that when I return the tornado of hatred and ignorance hasn’t grown into a monster of a new terrorism.p8100064-300x225-5073835