Have you got kindness stories? We’d sure love to hear them!
Tell us about times when someone was kind to you, or times when you were kind to someone else. Maxine Hess and I are collecting kindness stories for our Imagine a World: Nancy’s Larks + Be Kind exhibit at the Southeastern Quilt & Textile Museum. Whether you grab a leaf to pen and deposit your story when you’re at the museum or email them to me, your stories will be added to our adorable Kindness Box built by Maxine’s husband, George, and shared at our Kindness Celebration from 4 to 6 p.m. on December 3, 2024. If you’d rather, you can send your stories anonymously, and they don’t have to be long. Just a few sentences will do. Click here to send you story – and send as many as you can and will. Send them till your fingers need a nap . . . then rest and send us some more. We can’t wait to read them! And hey, if someone tells you a kindness story, please pass this along to them – including my email address – and encourage them to send their kindness stories, too. I’ll be posting some of my own kindness stories here, so be sure to swing by every now ‘n then to read them ‘cause they might be a spark of remembering kindnesses for you.
Maxine and I will be at the museum on November 19, 2024 and again on December 3, 2024, and we’d love to see you, hear your stories, take you on a tour of the exhibit, answer your questions, and/or just sit a spell and chat. Hope you can come!
Heavily-feathered birds, all dressed up and ready to travel to the Imagine a World Exhibit
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Before we get started, a few things I want you to know:
– Though I haven’t sent our emails in several years, I’ve sent you 2 this week. That will not become a habit, regardless of how much I have to tell you.
– I plan to write articles here – especially now that there’s so much to tell you with the exhibit opening soon, so I’ll send an email once a week or once every other week with links to articles I’ve posted. Today’s article is time sensitive, and I’m gonna’ try to do a better job of planning ahead. (I need my 19 month old – and adorable – granddaughter who lives with us to get on board with this! Wish me luck, and thanks in advance for understanding when I don’t get as much done ahead of time as I’d hoped.)
– Most importantly, I want y’all to know that I appreciate you. Now, let’s get on with the exhibit news.
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To hear me read this post, mash the right-pointing arrow above.
Turns out, it takes a flock to create a new world.
Would you like to help create this new world where everyone
and we do mean everyone
is welcomed with open hearts?
Do you enjoy creating something that’s fun, fast, and freeing?
Are you like us – dedicated to supporting folks with disabilities and creating a world fluent in Kindness?
Great! Then read on . . .
Nancy draws, I stitch her drawings. It is our Communion.
Our birds are based on Nancy’s fourth set of drawings
(scroll down to the third entry to start reading about her birds)
that sure look like birds to us.
Delightfully different birds.
Just as no two people are the same,
no two of these birds are the same.
We’re not copying her birds, mind you,
we’re just using them as examples
and as permission slips, if you will,
to cut loose and be free
as, well, free as a bird.
Some of our birds have no wings.
Some have one wing.
Some of the birds we’ve made have 4 legs
Some have one leg
Some have 7 legs
Some have no legs.
Some have seashells for eyes.
Some have no eyes.
Some have feathers
Othes are embellished with vintage jewelry.
All sing a song
even if we can’t hear it.
These birds don’t come with a pattern,
they’re cut free-hand
with scissors or a rotary cutter.
We sometimes draw freehand birds on cardstock paper
and use those as templates,
just because it tends to save time,
allowing us to make more birds.
We’ve made birds from placemats,
bedspreads,
old clothes,
and fabric we love and have been saving
for something special.
The thread doesn’t have to match the cloth on these birds.
They don’t have to be beautiful by art design standards.
Nobody is grading these birds
or selecting them based on their aesthetic appeal.
That’s the whole point of this exhibit:
everybody is welcome
and everyone delightfully different in every way imaginable,
We don’t judge in this world.
That wouldn’t be kind,
and kindness is the only language
spoken here.
We welcome these birds – every one of them –
into our circle of friends,
welcome them to our table,
welcome them to this new world,
knowing that their presence will
make this a better world
a more enjoyable, fulfilling place for all of us
to live.
If you’re interested, fantastic!
Grab some fabric
cut some one-of-a-kind birds
and ready, set, sew!
Oh – one very important note:
we will need your bird to bring
their own hanging loop with them.
That is to say, they need to come with a
hanging loop to help them fly through the sky.
You can topstitch these birds
or stitch them right sides together,
turn, stuff, and stitch the opening closed.
And the stuffing?
Feel free to use what’s within reach:
paper towels, tissues, fabric scraps, paper –
you get the idea.
You can embellish as you well
or send them plain.
Either way they will be welcome
in Kindness Route 1.
They’ll quickly find friends
as they fly through the sky of our world
and tickle visitors who come to call
colorful reminders that (with apologies and appreciation to Ray Stevens)
that everyone is beautiful in their own way.
The fine print:
We don’t plan to send these birds back to you,
but if you really, really want your bird
to make its way back to you, let me know, and we’ll figure something out.
Instead, we’d like to offer them up for adoption
as a way to raise money for
the Southeastern Quilt and Textile Museum.
Each bird will take this story
to a new home where they will be
treated with kindness for the rest of their lives.
The financial contributions will be put to good use
by the museum. I promise.
And we – Maxine and I
plus all the visitors
and museum volunteers
will be enthralled with your bird’s presence
in this amazing world we’re working together –
and now with y’all –
to create.
I feel quite sure
that adopted or no,
they’ll leave a lasting impression on all who see them.
So what do you say?
Will you become part of this big, fat, crazy idea?
Will you make a bird (or several) today or tomorow
and get it in the mail to us so it can arrive
by September 24, 2024?
Even if it’s gonna’ be late,
please send it
because whenever it arrives
your bird(s) will arrive to
big smiles
and much gratitude
and will take a place in the sky
of this world of kindness.
(We’d just love for your birds to be part
of our Opening Night event, if at all possible.)
Note: Not that we’ve tried, but
Maxine and I don’t believe it’s possible
to make these birds without a smile on your heart and face,
and we Know that the kindness, caring, patience, exuberance
in your heart
will transfer into the bird(s) you make
with every stitch.
We’re oh so grateful
to the Southeastern Quilt and Textile Museum
for this opportunity,
to y’all for helping us fill the sky with
birds not of a feather, but of a story.
Birds of a story – their own individual story.
helping us change the world
by changing lives,
bearing the important message that
you can never go wrong with kindness.
Send your beautiful birds to:
Southeastern Quilt and Textile Museum
306 Bradley St
STE C
Carrollton, GA 30117
Whether you send birds or not,
we thank you for helping us
change the world
by being kind
to even the most different among us.
~~~~~~~
Road signs you can click to find more information and updates:
FOR YOUR CALENDAR: EXHIBIT DATES
Opening Date: Wednesday, September 25, 2024
Artists Mix ‘n Mingle: 4 to 6 p.m. on Wednesday, September 25, 2024
Storytelling + Workshops: October 15 (stay tuned for specific details)
Storytelling _ Workshops: November 19 (details coming soon)
Kindness Celebration: 4 to 6 p.m. on December 3, 2024 (Y’all are gonna’ LOVE this! Stay tuned for details.)
To hear me, Jeanne Hewell-Chambers, mash the arrow on the left of the above media file. (Apologies in advance for my allergy-laden voice. Oh, and any knocking around you hear in the background? That’s The Engineer repairing our air conditioning.)
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth . . .
~ from Kindness, a poem penned by Naomi Shihab Nye
At Sacred Threads,
a sacred coincidence . . .
When one woman uses her elbow
to shove me aside
and position herself
in front of the man who was
sharing a phone number with me
of someone who might be able to help me find
a suitcase lost in transit,
I turn – stunned –
to find a woman quietly waiting
to talk to me.
“I think I have something that belongs with you,” she says.
Thinking blocks or quilts for The 70273 Project,
I mentally envision my luggage
in search of space to get her contributions home with me.
It is not cloth contributions Maxine brings me,
however, but a story of Minni,
a woman who,
through a series of coincidences,
finds herself working at the Nuremberg Trial
of physicians. On trial were
many members of Aktion T4,
the secret organization
responsible for murdering (at least)
70,273 people with disabilities.
From rudeness to kindness.
From being shoved aside,
to standing smack dab in the middle of new possibilities.
76 years after the
end of Aktion T4
(though not the end of the
unimaginable murders, mind you),
a big, fat, crazy idea
lights on my shoulder and whispers
”Listen up, Shug, cause here’s
how you’re going to spend the next
several years of your life
and all your children’s inheritance.”
And because I couldn’t not do it, The 70273 Project was born
10 days later,
before I could think myself out of it.
From knowledge of unfathomable atrocities
comes worldwide compassion
and vows to be constantly vigilant
for opportunities to
counter hate, arrogance, and meanness
with compassion and education.
Were they caught up in their game
or were they a product of their home environment?
We’ll never know,
but their callous disregard for Nancy’s precious life
impacted countless other lives.
From their senseless actions
comes a new way of communicating, a wordless soul language
Few words
+ small marks
= communion.
It’s a world of riotous color
comingling with black and white.
A world filled with a forest of trees,
the likes of which you’ve never seen.
Brightly colored moss covers the forest floor,
and birds of various abilities, likes, talents, and song
fill the air.
It’s a land where differences are
not feared or shunned
but cherished and celebrated.
Stories are lived, shared, enjoyed by all
in this world.
The living beings who call our world home
learn from each other
enjoy being with each other
nourish each other in ways large and small.
Life is a feast in our Rural Route 1,
and we hope you’ll make a note on your calendar
and visit us here in the land of social media
and there at the museum
to learn more about Minni and Nancy,
The 70273 Project, how kindness can (and does) triumph,
and more. Much, much more.
Who knows?
Perhaps you’ll even find your way to visit the exhibit.
We sure hope so!
Imagine a World: Nancy’s Larks + Be Kind
Opening Wednesday, September 25, 2024
Artist Mix ‘n Mingle 4 to 6 p.m.
Treat yourself to being the first to know about
opportunities for involvement (there are several,
and I think you’re gonna’ like them!),
special event details, sneak peeks, and other fun tidbits and tales
by subscribing.
~~~~~~~
Road signs you can click to find more information and updates:
Nancy’s 4th set of drawings – 95 delightfully different, wonderfully wonky birds. Stitched individually and presented here in book form.
Imagine a World, a poem penned and read by me, Jeanne Hewell Chambers (who is fluent only in English and Southern, and while I adore the word “reliquaries”, it tangles my tongue every time. That’s why I spelled it in this reading. Sigh.)
Imagine a small town as big as the world being created
through quiet, non-aggressive, unpretentious ways
by kind hearts and doers of good deeds.
Imagine this big small town furnished with a single table graced with lush bouquets of chortles,
understanding, and recognition. Imagine ever-replenishing platters of stories being constantly served up at this table,
witnessed without judgment
and told with undaunted mettle.
Imagine a table with an abundance of leaves, where there is always room
for anybody to pull up a chair.
No special invitation needed
because inclusivity is not a word here,
not something talked about in committees,
it’s an action
a way of being
our native language.
Imagine a table where
we don’t count limbs or digits
because those are inconsequential numbers
that don’t tell us a twit about who you are or what you’re capable of.
A table where you don’t have to see to be Seen
or hear to be Heard,
be ambulatory to move forward
or hold a fork to be Fed.
Where you don’t have to sit up straight to be taken seriously
or be quiet to be allowed to stay.
Imagine a table where
those who view the world in the rich orderliness of black and white,|
formulas, and one right answer
mingle amicably with those who experience life in spirals
of riotous explosions of color and questions.
Where everybody shows up with baskets laden with attributes and abilities,
with experiences and erudition
unique to them,
and where all are welcome
because it takes every kind of elan
to accomplish good and worthwhile things.
Imagine a table
where some impart much wisdom without uttering a word
while others let their joy or needs be known in indecipherable, inarticulate shouts.
A table where
we listen over, under, around, behind, and through words,
where we listen to soulful eyes,
hands that come together in a hearty “Yes!”
and hands that remain forever still in laps.
We listen to eyes that smile
and reliquaries of tears that leave hushed traces.
A table where
we listen to crayon marks on paper,
spontaneous shuffling of feet,
and hanging heads.
to the tiniest movement of a single finger
and the almost imperceptible turn of a head
to eyes that aren’t comfortable
engaging with other eyes
and eyes that roam without cessation.
A table where we remain deeply attentive to each other
because we know that there are countless ways to express and convey
and all deserve to be heard.
This is no fairy tale . . . at least it doesn’t have to be.
Right now, right at this very minute,
there are enough capricious, uncalculated caring folks
who pledge covenants
of encouragement and empathy,
kindness and curiosity,
laughter and listening,
and in unending ways large and small
we roll up our sleeves and build this table.
With grace and gumption,
we vow to help people build their wings
without jealousy, fear of diminishment,
or dread of becoming grounded
because we know with absolute certainty
that there’s sky enough for all.
Every chair is a storytelling chair at our table
because everybody has stories worth sharing.
Every. Single. Person.
We listen to each other with openness and attentiveness
not just because that’s what we want to be shown when we tell our stories,
but because we are absolutely certain that by bearing witness with curiosity and respect –
even to those whose stories are difficult to hear – we learn something that will help us do our part to make the world a better place.
We delight in knowing that our common threads are often disguised as differences, and that our stories,
when offered and received in gentle communion,
prove ever so much more potent than bullets,
more unifying than threats,
more gratifying than feuds and vendettas,
when it comes to living together on this beautiful blue orb called Earth.
~~~~~~~
Several years ago, in a story of magic and awe that I’ll tell you about in installments here ‘n there, I met Maxine Hess, and now here we are – collaborating on an exhibit at the Southeastern Quilt and Textile Museum in Carrollton, GA. We call the exhibit Imagine a World: Nancy’s Larks and Be Kind, and we are creating the world we want all y’all and us and our families and future generations to inhabit. The exhibit opens September 25, 2024 with an Artist Mix ‘n Mingle from 4 to 6 p.m. Here’s where you can watch it unfold, get more information, ask questions, and hopefully come say Hey to our faces when we’re there.
“I’ve stopped for some ice cream,” he said into his cell phone,
standing in the center of the ice cream shop,
talking loud enough for all of us
and those in the sandwich shop next door to hear.
“Do you want me to bring you something, hon?”
And in that single question
from the lips of a man I’ve never seen before
and will never see again,
I missed my Daddy in what can only be called
a tsunami of tremendous ache
that lingers right beneath the surface,
regardless of how many calendar pages I’ve torn off.
here ‘n there