Get Out Of Your Head And Into Your Heart.

The majority of people spend entirely too much time in their head and not enough time in their heart. Using ones head is a great option when finding the square root of 69 or maneuvering ones way through heavy traffic, but it's not reliable in connecting or interacting with family and friends.  The ego mind is not the place for cultivating love and its constant chatter can be misleading and deceiving.  The heart radiates a frequency deep in the center of the soul where love emulates a more accurate message.

There is nothing in the world more magnificent than the gift of love.  It has the power to create the impossible and the potential to change the very elements that rise up to destroy us.  Perhaps many of us believe that we know what makes love so splendid, but do we really understand the power behind this marvelous entity?   

Love has many definitions: love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous, love is not envious, love is long suffering, it is not easily provoked, it does not brag and is not arrogant, love does not rejoice in unrighteousness, rather in truth it bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things. Of all the attributes known to mankind it's love that is the most sought after and desired.  There are living souls who are willing to die in the name of love and dying souls who are willing to live for the sake of love. 

Fifteen years ago I had the privilege of reading the best seller book, People of the Lie: The Hope For Human Evil, by M. Scott Peck.  The book describes the many ways people deceive themselves in what they "believe they are" and their justifications for living behind the facade of lies they have created.  It's an interesting take on human frailties.  I was especially intrigued by Dr. Peck's conclusions of human weaknesses and people's willingness to live in such a state of disrepair.  Peck claims that he and his colleges (the leading authorities in psychiatry) all agreed unanimously on one point of view; "there is only one thing that can heal human evil and that's the power of love".  Love can take the most undesirable circumstances and change it for the better. It has the power to bring down walls, build bridges and restore shattered lives. 

If you are one of those gifted individuals who truly understands the power of love, then you are eager to deliver this message in abundance. It is promised that the miracles of God can visibly be seen when looking through the eyes of love.  

When my children were growing up in our home they were never allowed to speak rudely or ill to one another.  Today they tease me about how committed I was to these principles, but I expected them to hold each other in the highest regards.  I believe the way you are treated in the home is a precursor for future thoughts and actions. They were not allowed to make rude comments or use disrespectful connotations toward each other and I might add, it has had a delightful outcome! Today they have a tremendous respect for one another and are passing this level of integrity on to the next generation.   

I believe loving unconditionally connects us directly to the source of our creator.  Love heals all wounds and has the power to change madness into miracles, and true love in its purest form begins in the heart and lives in the home.  

Love does not discriminate. It accepts color, race, religion and people.

Love knows no limits or boundaries.

Love heals a world of darkness by bringing in the light.

Love does not recognize prejudices, only equality.

Love forgives unconditionally and forgets all offenses.

Love understands that intrinsic to justice is humanity.

Love is both the teacher and the student. 

Love cannot thrive in a broken heart of anger, bitterness or disdain. 

Love is the gift "He'' has given to show the full measure of our creation. 

Love is the key to opening all the doors that are locked, barricaded, hidden, angry, resentful, scared, insecure, bitter, and so on...  Dr. Peck has concluded that it's the only way to heal the human soul.

A child once asked, "Who will love me for me, not for what I have done or what I'll become, but who will love me for me?"  And in loving words a parent replied, "I will love you for you, not for what you have done or what you will become, but I will love you for you!"  by, Linda Sumner Urza, One fine day.

MEMOIRS PART II

SUNNY, BUT NOT TOO BRIGHT!

There was only one way to get a suntan when I was young.  We didn't have tanning booths or tanning lotions and when we wanted a golden tan, we got it from the sun.  One summer Kris Anderson and I decided to sunbath.  We cut numbers out of paper (our boyfriends football jersey numbers).  We had the bright idea to tape the numbers to our stomachs and after tanning we would take off the paper and the numbers would be highlighted in our albino white skin.  It was going to be so cool.  Kris told me about the fireman's tower (a 25 foot wooden scaffolding frame) by the fair grounds.  The fireman occasionally practiced drills there and she thought we could climb to the top and sunbath, but we quickly realized there was no ladder to get up to the first landing.  Kris suggested we climb on the car, she would push me up and then I would reach down for her.  Genius idea and it worked like a charm.  

We sunbathed for hours, but when it was time to leave we faced another dilemma.  Getting down was going to be much harder than climbing up, there was nothing to hold on to and a good six feet in between the landing and the top of the car!  Kris wanted to go first, so I held onto her hand, but I lost my balance and it broke the grip!  She fell and caved in the entire top of her dad's car.  Honestly, it looked like craters of the moon!  Her eyes bugged out like a cartoon character and she screamed, "My dad is going to kill me!"  When I heard her scream and saw the look on her face I panicked!  I got so scared I jumped right off the landing into thin air and landed on the dusty ground in a puff of smoke.  Frantically, Kris got inside the car and pushed on the roof, it miraculously popped back into its original shape.  Yowzers, I swear we had nine lives because you couldn't even see a crease or crack in the paint.  Once again we had escaped the jaws of death, and a split second later we were looking at the pearly white numbers on our tan stomachs... "Sure looks cool!" I said, admiring the #65 glowing like a torch.  "Yeah, looks so cool!" She replied with a tone of victory in her voice and we drove off into the sunset!

SCHOOL SPIRIT!

Great experiences happened at Moscow High School.  We didn't have a lot of money to spend or the high tech privileges that kids have today, so we created a life that was authentic and filled with character and imagination.  Most of the students went to school together their entire lives which made it very difficult to remain anonymous.  If someone new moved into our school, we quickly grafted them into the branches on our tree and they became a part of the heritage of MHS.  Most experiences will never be forgotten, for our lives were constantly filled with unexpected pandemonium.  Our first year as freshman; we survived a weeks worth of initiation.  The freshman boys had to dress like girls, the girls couldn't wear any makeup and they had to rat their hair until every hair stood on end.  We all wore signs around our necks that said, "Lowly Freshmen Deserve Punishment" and gave sticks of gum to the seniors upon command.  We pushed grapes down the hallways with our noses, had to be prepared to sing the school fight song impromptu, kiss the stinky feet of the seniors, and enslaving ourselves to carry books, bags and a lot of who knows what from place to place... but loved every minute of it!  Our class was indeed the best at MHS.

It was a dare that got the president of the senior class, John O'Driscoll,  to stick his arm (up to his armpit) in the lunchroom garbage slop for just a few quarters and Morris Musseau who swallowed a couple of live goldfish out of the tank in the art room - to see the girls squirm.  Gary Curtis won the award for having the biggest, slimiest spit wads hanging from the ceiling in study hall, until a wet and juicy one fell from the air and splattered in the middle of Mr. Little's desk... BUSTED!  Cathy Brown and Suzanne Robinson's lockers were always filled with glass pop bottles and each time they opened their doors, the clanking sound would resonated through the halls as the bottles fell on the floor.  We'd be sitting in class and hear the familiar sound, everyone would shake their heads and nod, knowing it was either Suzanne or Cathy!  They saved pop bottles to trade in at IGA grocery store and took the money to buy donuts at Moscow Bakery or candy from Hunters; both were just a couple of blocks from the high school.  If they were lucky, Mike Turk would cruise by in his 1935 Chevy and offer them a ride.  He looked a little like Paul McCartney and if there was ever a McSteamy at MHS, it was Mike Turk.  There were so many great things that happened the four years I was there that I can only scratch the surface.   

We tip our glasses in celebration for the honorable mentions: The initials that were mowed on the side of the hill overlooking the city by John O'Driscoll and Lance Labine, the night creatures that spray painted '68 on the rocks next to Highway 95 going North (sorry about the sprained ankle David Mumm), to those who put blue food coloring in the water fountain at the University of Idaho (news paper worthy), the stolen skeleton from Mr. Harman's science class found hanging in a stall in the girls bathroom, the dead fish that someone threw in the ceiling light in the library and I am sure there are many, many more that I am not privy to or have forgotten.  I don't know how the class of 1968 found the time to get an education, but we did!  What is most important is that we all care for each other and have remained great friends for over a half century.

IN MEMORY 

Today I got down my senior year book and I was thumbing through some pages when I read something written that brought tears to my eyes.   It read:  Linda, The time has really flown by, but we have had a lot of fun together.  You are a real blast to be around... even if you do put snowmen in my locker!  We'll see more of each other in the future, okay! Never change and have a good time in the years to come.  I wish you only the best.  Love, Mike Dumas  

It was a moment of sadness for me when I reflected back on our friendship.  Mike died in a car accident and he left behind his broken hearted fiance and his family and friends who loved him dearly.  He was the man who always had a smile on his face and a dream in his heart.  This is dedicated to our friend, Mike Dumas.

My locker was not very far from Mike's locker and every opportunity we had during school we'd throw pencils at each other.  It got to be a real competition to see who could sneak up, pitching a pencil across the hall and hit the other one.  He would end up with my pencils and I would end up with his, but I always came out ahead, because the ones I threw had the erasers worn down beyond the metal and his were always nice and new!   One day during lunch hour, I slipped outside and made a snowman; complete with eyes, nose, and stick arms.  I carefully carried it back into the building and put it in the bottom of Mike's locker.  When he went to get his books after lunch, he opened the door to find a snowman melting at the bottom of his metal locker.  It was such a surprise to him, he loved it and told me that it was so sad to see it melt away.  It must have made a real impact on him, for in the ten year reunion booklet, Mike wrote that it was his most memorable experiences at MHS.  

I didn't see Mike for along time after we graduated and then one day he showed up at my door.  He was preparing a trip up the coast and back... riding a bicycle!  He figured it would take him a couple of months and he had come to say goodbye.  I was shocked that he was riding a bicycle across five states and told him he was crazy.  He promised to come visit me when he got back and share his adventures.  Sure enough, one day I got a call from him and he was on his way over.  We talked for hours and he shared experiences about the time it rained so hard he had to climb inside a black garbage bag along side the road and wait for it to quit.  One time, someone pulled a knife on him and he was so scared that he didn't know what to do, so he just jumped on his bike and rode like the wind!  I could see the pride he had in accomplishing his goals and I was truly impressed.  Shortly thereafter,  I moved away and we lost touch.  When I found out he had been killed in a car accident, I was devastated with grief.  Mike was so unassuming and kind, and he valued his friends above all other possessions.  Sometimes, we take people for granted, believing they will be around forever, but much like the snowman that had quickly melted away... one day, Mike Dumas was gone. by, Linda Sumner Urz, One fine day.

MEMOIRS

Little moments that made a big impact. 

LITTLE SHAVERS

I was not much older than ten when my friend Ann Marie Everson and I decided to shave our legs.  It was summertime and we were planning a day at the public pool, but first we had to take care of business.  Believe me when I say that neither one of us knew what a stupid thing we were about to do and we were extremely sneaky because my family was lurking on the other side of the door!  We secured the lock, got down my dad's double edged razor, (the one with the thin blade that wobbled back and forth in the carriage) grabbed the lathering brush and cover Ann's right leg with a smooth coating of cream.  I remember how excited we were about the deviant mission!  Ann started at the bottom of her leg and with one quick swoop, she shaved off about six inches of the skin covering her shinbone!  The pearly white shaving cream was a shocking contrast against the bright red blood spilling from her wounds, but the real fear came from the look on her face!  She started hopping around on her left leg and her wounded leg flailed about like there was a hinge at the knee cap!  I could see she was in pain and I panicked.  I grabbed the first thing in the medicine cabinet that resembled a cure.  It was Campho Phenique (a strong liquid oil used to treat cold sores) and I pored it down her leg.  The pain must have been excruciating!  Ann ricocheted off the four walls of the bathroom like an atom and her voice escalated to levels far beyond that of a siren.  Needless to say, my mother came through the bathroom door like a battering ram and... well, the rest is history. 

LILLIAN 

I grew up in a large family with a lot of mouths to feed and being the youngest might have been an advantage at times, but I was definitely at the bottom of the totem pole.  As kids, we were always trying to scrounge up enough spare change to go to the Nuart or Kenworthy theaters, usually stopping by Fountain's grocery store to buy some candy on our way down Main Street.  That's when a penny bought several pieces of candy and 3 cents afforded a double decker ice cream cone!  The Inscore family (Lillian and Jasper) owned the Hillcrest Motel and provided jobs for me and my siblings when were young.  I believe noble and good people come into the lives of others at exactly the right time and their family blessed all our lives for the span of 20 plus years.  Lillian was the type of woman who's door was alway open, she kept a well stocked fridge and never turned anyone away.  My older brother and two sister worked there throughout their teenage years and when I was eleven I asked her for a job and she hired me!  Lillian gave me a sense of self worth and little did I know that ten years later I would become the manager of another motel they owned in town.  We were all blessed and my family holds Lillian in the highest esteem.  You see, it takes a very special person to recognize the value of an eleven year old child, and she knew the worth of my soul.  She taught me to work hard, to earn an honest days wages and to appreciate my contributions to life.  I believe there are angles that go before us to prepare the way for our success and Lillian was mine!  When she passed away a few years ago, a piece of my heart went with her, but her positive influences have continuously directed my life.  She was a perfect mentor and example to follow after.  

DRIVING MISS, CRAZY!

Miss Maybelle Gehrke (Gurkee) was the librarian at Moscow High School for as long as anyone can remember.  She was a tall thin and cranky spinster in her late 60's with an extremely ridged personality.  This combination made it impossible to refrain from causing chaos in her library.  Students loved driving her crazy and it became a ritual to find new ways to torture her throughout the year, but all those years at MHS left a trail of pranks that eventually sent her into retirement!  My freshman year someone let a chicken go in her library and it was flying all over the tables.   Each time Ms. Gehrke tried to catch it, the chicken pooped everywhere.  It was a sight for sore eyes and she looked like a tall skinny chicken chasing a scared little chicken.  Another time, someone put an alarm clock behind the books and when the alarm went off... so did she!  She was so mad when she found the clock that she threw it in her metal garbage can and it went off again, but this time it was much louder from the sound vibrating off the metal , she nearly lost it!  One year the library smelled like death.  The janitor, principle, and Miss Gehrke were searching for the wicked smell, later they found limburger cheese behind the cast iron heating vents.  Another year she was walking from the study hall back into the library, someone threw a hand full of pennies at her while her back was turned and they came clinking down all around her.  Immediately, she turned around and said, "Some nerve, whoever threw those pennies while my back was turned is a real coward!"  I don't know how they did it, but at that moment another hand full of pennies came showering down around her like rain and she nearly went up in smoke!  I really think she was somewhat amused in the quality of our pranks; I know we were.

CAR TROUBLE

When Joyce Davis moved into the neighborhood my life shifted dramatically.  She was mischievous in an innocent sort of way and I followed one step behind her with a grin on my face that looked like I had a hanger in my mouth.  My father had an old Plymouth automobile sitting on the lot next to our house.  One day Joyce saw the keys in the ignition and got the crazy idea that we were going to drive the car, but when she turned the key nothing happened.  She convinced me that we could start the car by giving it a push down the road, and then pop the clutch.   Neither one of us had a valid drivers license and that should have been the first clue we were in trouble!  We pushed the car up and down the street for over an hour trying to start it.  Finally, we pushed it back into it's resting place.  One of the neighbors told my dad about our antics and that night at the dinner table he said, "Next time you decide to drive a car make sure it has an engine in it!"   My brother laughed hysterically, but my mother was not the least bit amused and grounded me for two weeks.  

BUMMER!

When I was a student at Moscow High School, my best friend Sheila Walter and I were walking home from school.  We lived several blocks away, but not far enough to ride the school bus (which we thought we were too cool for anyway).  We were seniors in high school and life was as prim and proper as it gets.  We were walking on Third Street when a delivery van driven by Richard Steffen came barreling up the road.   Richard was honking the horn to get our attention and there were arms waving out every window.  Sheila and I looked back to see what was coming toward us.  Several members of the football team had big smiles on their faces and they were waving their arms frantically out the windows to get us to notice them.  Sheila and I  were flattered that all these boys were so eagerly seeking our attention and a little puffed up in ourselves.  I remember thinking that this was the height of my glory as a student at MHS, until the van squealed by and we saw someone mooning us out the back doors of the vehicle!  Mike Schierman later confessed that it was his eclipse that blocked out the sun shining that day. by, Linda Sumner Urza, One fine day.