I have been working on improving the Donkey Dream blog. Please subscribe to it's feed if you are interested, as I will be adding more ideas through the holiday, and making plans for next summer's Pino Pie Days at the farm. And visit the store site for new things in the Donkey Art section.
I have one idea of making a rag doll and donating them to children's wards or elder care places. I also am interested in getting a group of international artist/ sewers who would each donate one or two handmade dolls - farm theme related - and then I could have a special Pino Giving Day. It's too late to do it for the holiday, but I'm a firm believer that the holiday is every day [in fact, I confess, I get a little cranky about Christmas at Halloween, and now adults have taken over Halloween - oh, don't get me going]...
Anyway, I was thinking about how I can get more people involved in the Donkey Dream blog, and get people to share their pie giving experiences. And then I realized, it is not important that people write me their experiences. What's important is that I go out and effect one person at a time, in my own way. By delivering a pie, or writing my stories, or helping one old person on my own. I do like sharing what I do, I like that about keeping a blog - it is a document for me. It is why I started my farm blog to begin with - so I would look back and enjoy the memories, see where we came from, how much we've done and learned.
I was reading a passage from an inspirational book on care giving by Maggie Davis , and a quote by Mother Theresa hit home. "I never take care of crowds, only of a person. If I stopped to look at crowds, I would never begin."
I guess that is how I feel about Pino's Pies. One pie at a time, a person is touched. I'm sure there are others doing one small thing at a time, quitely, without drawing attention to it in a blog. Once, about 15 years ago, my then boyfriend broke up with me, I was so down, immobilized by it. I was not a church goer, but took myself to hear the choir and be with people. I was looking for anything, something, to bring me comfort. I was getting over a cold, and had a coughing fit during the service. I tried so hard not to cough, and finally decided I must leave, so as not to disturb people. As I started to get up from the pew, the very elderly woman, sitting alone next to me, reached out and touched by hand. She had a throat lozenger for me, and I sat back down. I can not tell you how that tiny offering was so meaningful. I'm sure she had no idea. But it was 15 years ago, and I remember her kindness like it was yesterday.
That is what Thanksgiving is to me. Small givings, daily. You never know when you are that old woman handing out a throat lozenger.
