A Story of Christmas Past

When I was a little girl, Christmas was a special time for me.  I loved the excitement, the Christmas carols and the sparkling lights on the Christmas tree.  What child would not be intrigued by the imagery?  I cannot tell you how many times we waited up just to sneak a peek of Santa placing gifts around the tree.  To me, Santa was such a mystery.  He did more than pique my curiosity, there were definite things I needed to know.  Like,  who was this Santa, where did he really come from, and how did he know so much about me?  It seemed as if he could keep track of all my shenanigans better than me.  The other amazing thing about him was that he had an unusual effect on children's behavior.  He had the uncanny ability to keep children in check from afar.  One thing was for certain, the pressure to behave couldn't be ignored.  All of my friends knew that if they wanted Christmas toys, they had to be good little girls and boys.  

A couple of times, I came pretty close to catching Santa in the act.  I pretended to be asleep. because I didn't want to risk his taking any of my toys back.  My Mother had told me that Santa was funny about things like that.  She said, he didn't want anyone to see him taking the toys from his great big sack.  I often wondered if she was making that stuff up, but Mothers don't make stuff up, right?  It did kind of puzzle me as to how she knew so much about Santa.  Especially, if, as she said, he wanted to keep a "low profile."  Yet strangely, he and my Mother seemed to have a special connection.   I puzzled over so much about the Santa mystery, but hey, what did know?  I was only a kid.  I learned to put all my questions aside, because as long as Santa made sure the things I wanted were under the tree. I was good.

Which right will you give away?

In the midst of the unrest within our own country,
I pause to consider the plight of those who are far less
fortunate.  We have only had a taste of what
some of them have endured all their life.   America, as a nation,
we have so much to be thankful for.  It's time we realized our
blessings, stop the in-fighting and unite or we will forfeit
what we take for granted.   My question is, which right are you
willing to give away?

In Foreign Lands

Lord, I’m praying for the coming of day

In foreign lands far away.

People are dying every day.

Gone, like ashes scattered in the wind

Never to be seen again

To us, they are people without face or name,

But they are people just the same.

Each one a part of the human race,

Regardless of the color of the face.

Help us to open our bowels of mercy.

Enable us to see

What we have not allowed ourselves to see.

Children alone

Without family or home

Never having an opportunity

To be a child, young and free

Loved ones gone without a trace

Babies left to carry on in their place

For them the surrounding darkness overshadows the light

They have no reason to believe there is hope in sight

May we be their beacon of hope on a darkened horizon,

A rising sun where there was never one

Father, remove the pain of disgrace

From a disease with no regard for person or place

May we no longer pretend that we do not see

People living in agony

May we be there to relieve their fears and dry their tears.

Help them to see past the trying years.

Erase their sorrows,

And bring a rainbow of hope for tomorrow

Help us to be a willing hand to hold

In a world that is hard and cold.

All they need is a chance

To invite life to dance

Without our help their lives will end

Let us be their opportunity to begin

Lord, I’m praying for the coming of day

In foreign lands far away

Young and old are dying everyday

Though they be people without face or name

They are people just the same

Each one a part of the human race

Regardless of the color of the face.

copyright 2010, Matters of the Heart, Patricia Newman-Harris

Celebrating Veteran's Day-We thank you

To the men and women who towed the line,

Walked on mines,

Kept watch through the night

Until the dawn’s early light.

To those who left family and friends behind,

Gave freely of their time.

To those who postponed their dreams

So we could know what freedom means.

How do we say thank you?

How do we repay a debt like yours?

You sailed to foreign shores

Never knowing if you would ever be back.

You came under constant attack,

But you never said no to the call.

You gave your all.

The opportunities we enjoy

Came at great expense.

You provided our defense.

You bore the hurt and pain

Without shame,

Without fear.

Because of you, we are still here,

Standing strong on your behalf.

In your honor, we fly our flags at half-staff.

We raise our hands in salute to you,

Because this is what we do.

You are gone, but you will never be forgotten.

No, you will never be forgotten.

Every Memorial Day, you are there.

Every Independence Day you are there,

Every Veteran’s Day, you are there.

Every victory we celebrate, you are there.

Every flag that we raise,

Every moment of praise

Is not ours alone.
You have made America our home.

From every hillside and plain,

We proudly speak your name.

Because of you America is America,

And will always be, America.

Because of you, we can still sing of her spacious skies

And purple mountains majesty.

You made America the beautiful country we see.

America

Our country, our home

Because of you we can proudly sing,

Let freedom ring!

Long live freedom,

Long live liberty,

Long live America,

Our country, our home.

copyright 2015 Patricia Newman-Harris

Bag Lady

I wrote this poem when I noticed a surge in the homeless community.  Today, especially in Los Angeles,the problem is worse than ever before.  It is sad to see people of all ages, including entire families, living under the freeway overpass.  Some of these people have a job, but can't afford to find affordable housing.  That should not be in America.

As a young black girl, having grown up in South Central, Los Angeles I have fond memories of neighborhood and community.  Over the years I have witnessed the neighborhood change.  Slowly, we are being pushed out by skyrocketing prices in homes and rentals.  We all deserve a place to call home.  My question is this, Where is our safe place in a nation that sees us as the enemy? 

We have got to fix the problem; because, none of us are safe from the plight of homelessness.  I know that but for the Grace of God, there go I.


    Bag Lady

Bag lady, bag lady every day I see you as I drive by

You always catch my eye

I know the load you carry is too heavy for you to carry alone

You’re only skin and bones

Yet, there you are walking the street

With worn out shoes on your feet

I’ve seen you brave the cold and the scorching heat,

But you never seem to concede to defeat

I’ve seen the angry rain plummeting your small frame

Again and again

I’ve seen the wind send you in an aimless twirl

It seems as if it’s you against the world

Bag lady, 

Bag lady,

Struggling on your own

It won’t be long before you are gone,

Because it must be hard waging that battle alone

I wonder how much longer will you keep holding on?

I ponder your history

Do you have family?

What is your name

And who is the blame

For you being where you are?

How did you end up having no home and no car?

I wonder if you only own the clothes you wear

And the bags you push around everywhere?

You peak my curiosity

I can’t help but admire your tenacity

And your capacity

To keep holding on

When everything is gone

Bag lady, bag lady

I worry for your safety

Out on the streets

And about whether you have enough food to eat.

I pray

I pray

Because even if you won’t concede to defeat

It’s got to be hard waging a battle against the streets.

I know there will come a day when I’ll look for you and you’ll be gone,

Because the load you’re carrying is too heavy for you to carry alone

One day soon things will unravel,

And there will finally be an end to your travel

You will be replaced

By another homeless face

That will catch my eye

As I drive by

Leaving me to ponder

And wonder

Once again
Until another story
comes to an end.

copyright 2010, Matters of the Heart

I dedicate this song to the homeless.

Women of the World...Be Encouraged

This month is Women's History month, so I celebrate and honor all of our women, from the greatest to the least, past and present.  For all that you have done, are doing and will do in the future, I say thank you.  One day soon, we will be totally appreciated and respected completely and not just for the way we look, but for who we are.

I See the Rest

Women of the world,

I see you there

Your hair,

Your dress,

Impeccable,

Yes.

I see you,

But I look beyond

Your hair,

Your dress

And see the rest.

Without a doubt,

You are beautiful inside and out,

But you want the world to see you,

In your entirety.

To look beyond your polished nails

and high heel shoes;

Not to be perceived as tough as nails,

But as someone who can compete

No matter what shoes she has on her feet.

Someone who is taken seriously by all

No matter how big or how small.

Someone who can stand firmly in position

Without being unfairly degraded by the competition.

The "phenomenal woman," that Maya described.

What a glorious tribe!

The tribe called Woman,

I see you in all your glory.

I see your beauty.

Your hair,

Your dress,

Impeccable,

Yes.

I see you,

But I look beyond

Your hair,

Your dress

And see the rest.

Would the world could see the rest. 

Copyright 2017, Patricia Newman-Harris

To the women of the world, who are not always taken seriously and are not viewed for the totality of who they are.

Voice of Reason

I keep praying the voice of reason will have it's season.    Until then, we have to speak for those who cannot speak.  We have to be the voice of the poor, the brokenhearted and the weak.  We have to intercede on behalf of the wounded and the sick.  Though they may seem like the least of men to the wealthiest of men, they are men who deserve a chance.  They have dreams too.  No one should be allowed to impose sanctions on dreams, not in America, not anywhere in the world.   

Patricia Harris 2017

Happy Birthday Michael---Thank you for Showing us that All We Need is Love

Today,  I am pausing to remember the birthday of Michael Jackson.   I feel it is fitting.  He cared so much about the outcome of others.  If he were here, he would be doing something to help those who are suffering.  So, I offer prayers to those in Houston who have lost their homes and their lives, and I offer comfort to Michael's family and to all his fans whom he loved so much.  His spirit forever lives on in his music.  Our loss was Heaven's gain.  We miss you Michael

All We Need is Love

People everywhere

need someone to care.

In a world without love

No one survives

No one can stay alive.

Until we function as one,

Peace will never come

Why is it so hard for us to see?

We are talking basic humanity.

No matter where we live,

No matter our circumstance,

We all deserve a chance.

You may think you have the homeless man beat,

But the face of the homeless changes all the time

It could be yours or mine.

We need to find common ground.

There is a sacred place where we all can abound.

If we think we can do it alone,

We may as well pack up and go home.

We don’t need a New Year’s resolution.

We need a solution.

The answer lies in the heavens above.

All we need-is love.

We don’t have to search our minds,

The answers ours to find.

We don’t need a fortune-teller

Or astrologist.

We don’t need a sociologist or psychologist.

There is no mystery,

No special key

To unlock a secret passage way

We can solve our problems today.

We don’t have to solve the case.

It is as clear as the nose on our face.

There is no special fix,

No chemicals to mix

There is an answer.

There is a way.

Only those who hear the call

Will see the light.

Others will spend a lifetime

Hopelessly searching

for answers they will never find.

When the answer has been here all the time

Written in verse and line.

The answer lies in the heavens above

All we need is love.

 copyright Patricia Newman-Harris