Amongst Creative Things, Practical Things and the Unfailing Blend of Them Both

It was time for his history lesson, but the teacher was late.


There are lessons happening with us, including ‘practical’ ones, like receiving my CPR/First Aid/AED for Adults and Children certification.

I noticed how this was such a normal group of students; it was almost impressive, but I don’t know if that’s the word.

When I was waiting to enter the class, a woman asked if I was the instructor, keys in her hand ready to unlock the door. I said ‘No,’ and then said, ‘I believe that man is’ who I’d briefly met. I also noticed my wording had been a little 1900s, but I was happy with that.

I was glad to complete the training course. One of the last parts was to help an infant mannequin, in the situation that the baby was choking. The instructor showed us to place the infant over your forearm and then your arm over your leg as you are seated to send five blows to the back, but I noticed this mannequin was a really giant infant and I said, ‘This infant is so much bigger than my arm,’ but I learned!

This student was so very content immediately after his History lesson had finally happened.

He had just listened attentively to a pleasantly clear paragraph about the Allies in World War II.

Lessons will continue; I am learning Arabic, still doing practice lessons of some of the letters I’ve learned.

I walked into Barnes and Noble, glanced through the newly arranged, spacious fiction aisles and had seen some novels, including ones I have ready to read. Sometime later, I was wondering after awhile if they’d gotten rid of the poetry section, but then I found it; they hadn’t labeled it yet, and I whispered, ‘Here it is. I knew I’d find it.’

And then I accidentally found that this poetry section actually extended even more than last time, and I noticed a shelf of books by Rumi. I smiled a true smile. I’ve felt I’ve been a little rough with him accidentally in my blog posts lately like in the poem I was confused if it was fully his but read it aloud anyway and went on a little casually. Over the years, his poems have had me see him as a kind, not-looking-to-pick-a fight type of man.

So I was pleased to see Rumi at eye level with a nice-sized section of the poetry shelf at Barnes and Noble, an honorable thing.

Earlier: A Poem That Sings and a Song with Many Folds and Depths

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