Dear Readers,
There are two things making our dock famous. First, of the approximately 120 piers on the water, ours is the only red wooden one still standing — all the others having been replaced by new-fangled floating fiberglass-reinforced plastic piers or sleek sturdy aluminum docks, forever putting an end to splinters in bare feet.
Secondly, under our dock, and only under OUR dock, is home to the largest bass in the entire lake. I’m talking fish of mythical proportions here, bass big enough to win prizes. (I haven’t heard back yet from the folks at the Guiness Book of World Records, so you’ll just have to take my word for it.)
I rather enjoy it when pontoon boaters slowly pass by and point at the old red relic with fond, nostalgic gazes, but it infuriates me to no end when fishing boats come up close and cast their lines right next to MY dock.
“Hey! Back off, buddy!” I want to yell, “Those are MY fish!” Silly me. Selfish me.
I may legally own the cabin on the shore of the lake, but I cannot own the water or the fish in it.
Not long ago, I had finished grocery shopping but needed to use the restroom before heading to the check-out line.
I parked my very full cart in an out-of-the-way aisle, made a quick trip to the ladies’ room, and returned to find my cart was missing! I searched up and down every aisle; it was nowhere to be found. I even enlisted the help of the manager to help me locate it.
No luck.
“That was MY cart!” I exclaimed. “Those were MY groceries!” I whined. “That’s not fair!”
I sounded like a two year old.
I did not own that cart nor did I own any of the items in it. My outrage was unjustified.
At worst, I had been the victim of someone’s poor manners, but not a victim of theft.
Kindness goes a long way
My cousin Bill passed away recently — patience please, dear Readers, these events really are all connected! — and I’ve been troubled by something that happened between us more than 30 years ago.
My parents’ 40th wedding anniversary was approaching and Bill called to ask if I was planning a celebration for them. I told him I was thinking about throwing a party on October 17; I hadn’t yet finalized any plans but would let him know when I had.
A few days later, I started getting phone calls from other family members, “excited about the party on the 17,” asking what they could bring.
Extremely angry, I called Bill and said he had no business inviting people to MY party, especially because I had specifically told him I hadn’t finalized it yet.
Bill was very hurt and actually stopped speaking to me for several years.
Although we eventually reconciled, things were never quite the same between us.
It was my fault.
Bill had had a sad life. His parents died when he was young; he had no siblings, no children, and he suffered a great deal from his service in Vietnam.
I missed an opportunity to be extra kind to someone who really needed extra kindness in his life.
Afterall, it really wasn’t MY party.
Although I was going to host it at my home, the party was my parents’ party and it belonged to them and to all the guests who would come to celebrate their special day.
Criticizing one of the well-meaning guests was quite contrary to the spirit of hospitality and love a hostess hopes to convey.
It was THEIR party and I was crying about it.
Everything belongs to God
When Matthew tells us, “give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and give to God what is God’s,” the point is, everything belongs to God.
We are given temporary custody of material goods ONLY so we can use them to further the Kingdom.
Luke corroborates this when he writes, “If you have two coats, give one away.” It’s very difficult for that wealthy man to fit through the eye of a needle not because he is wealthy, but because of what he does — and doesn’t do — with his wealth.
I’ll be 69 years old next month so it’s time I finally stopped acting like a two-year-old when it comes to being so obsessively possessive about possessions!
To that end, I’ve taken the liberty of changing the lyrics to Lesley Gore’s 1963 hit, “It’s My Party”.
“Come visit my cabin, take fish from the lake,
“To think they’re all mine, well that’s a mistake.
“Please take these groceries, I won’t ask you why,
“Surely you need them much more than do I.
“It’s not my party; it’s meant for you,
“I want to share what I have with you.
“With a genuine smile, I’m sure I’ll get by.
“It’s not my party, so I won’t cry!
“No, it’s not my party, so I won’t cry!”
Eternal rest grant unto Bill, oh Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
Linda E. Kelly is a member of Blessed Sacrament Parish in Madison.