Welcome to Billie's World

Maybe you would like to join others on our walk today through this newspaper column I have written for 12 years.  I must post a warning at this point. Most of my readers know it will not be an exciting adventure as the world labels excitement.

      There will be no trills and chills; no high emotion; no secrets of the rich and famous. It will not even be a walk clothed in a white robe. It’s just an ordinary, real walk.

      Sometimes we get hot and dirty and tired on our walks. Other time we share a memory or we laugh at ourselves. We even make mistakes and stumble. But, we walk on. 

        There have been occasions when the walk is accompanied by sadness. At times the words from a familiar song, “When sorrows like sea billows roll,” will not leave our mind. It’s like wave after wave of grief and sorrow rolling over people we care about.

      At this point, could we stop for a while?  Allow me to share a story I made up years ago while sitting smack dad in the middle of a bed in Texas with three young faces whose voices urged me on.

     It all started with, “Tell us a story, Ms. Billie.”

      The story I made up for those children might relate to us as adults, too. I began my story with these immortal words:

      “Once upon a time there was a little boy named Allen who went for a walk in the woods. He stopped suddenly because something was wrong. It was too quiet. There were no birds singing in the woods that day.”

     “Why were the birds not singing, Ms. Billie?”

       “The birds were silent because they had no homes. Their nests had all been taken away. So they vowed to never sing again unless their homes were returned to them.”

Granted we may not be sad today because our nests have been removed; but when we understand they could represent our security and our bonding place, then we can make an identity with the birds. In all of life, nothing is more devastating than the loss of those whom and that which we have bonded with through time, birth or through friendship and love.

Back to the children:  “What did Allen do, Ms. Billie?”

      “Allen was scared. But he went deep into the dark woods to search for their lost nests.”

      “Did he find them so they would sing again?”

      “No, he could not find their nests. He searched everywhere…under all the branches and twigs. Yet he found nothing. Finally, he stumbled out of the woods. His arms were filled with the sticks and twigs he had picked up as he was looking for the nests.”

      “Were the birds mad at him?”

      “Oh, no, together they took the branches and twigs and made their new nests. Together they rebuilt the nests as Allen went back and forth into the woods.”

      You realize that which was lost was never found. They were separated from it.

Sorrow does this, too. It separates us from people and places we love and prize and need.

       In my children’s story, the rebuilding took place because a little boy named Allen helped the birds rebuild their nests. He wasn’t even aware of the fact he was doing this. He thought he was only picking up sticks.

       I have known so many “Allens” in my lifetime. They are those who share others’ sorrows simply because they care. In countless ways, these “Allens” express their love for those who are hurting.

       “Ms. Billie, did the birds ever sing again?”

       “Yes, after a while they did. But this time their song was more beautiful than ever. It was a song with deep notes and well as light, high notes. If you are very quiet and listen you may still hear it.”

       In time, the cry of sorrow can be transformed into a melody with new depth and range. In time, those who have rebuilt their hopes and dreams can share their story with others. And in time, the rebuilding will begin again. This wisdom knows with togetherness we can turn sticks and twigs into nests where loving and bonding can take place again.

       Sleepy children’s voices asked, “Will you tell us another story tomorrow?”

         “Yes, I will.”

         “Goodnight, Ms. Billie.”

          “Goodnight, Rachel.”

          “Goodnight, Ms. Billie.’

           “Goodnight, Jake.”

           “Goodnight, Ms. Billie.”

           “Goodnight, Luke.”

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