tamarjacobson

Now here are some real Ambler Angels … 

[click on photos to enlarge]

Aren’t they gorgeous?

And, yes, they are standing right at the steps to the entrance … forty years later than Hayley though …

I just had to stop and look at the Mary statue in the grounds …

… even though we were freezing and my Angel-Mobile was waiting to take us to Agave for margaritas, quesadillas and such.

Oh, and the movie? FABULOUS! I mean I could have become a nun at the end. I am especially grateful to Danny, who gave me the very tips that I needed to thoroughly enjoy the movie. Winston, you were right. It was wonderful to see it with a group of women. We all wept softly at the right places and yelled with raucous laughter at all sorts of things that dug deep into our young womanhood memories.

Philadelphia has become warmer. Am so grateful for my new friends who made the day so much fun … and very, very tasty too.

I am going to see The Trouble with Angels. A friend is having a viewing in her home today. A morning matinee. The fun part will be jumping into our cars and driving a few miles down the road to Ambler,

where, apparently, the movie was filmed.

A few weeks ago at a dinner party I admitted to not having seen The Trouble With Angels. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks and gasped loudly. They stood there with their mouths and eyes wide open. A huge and tumultuous raucous ensued after which plans were made immediately to educate me as soon as possible.

And so today’s the day, and after popcorn and movie matinee this morning we are off to see the very place. I love Ambler. It is a quaint old town and has my favorite, a wonderful old movie theater right next door to a great pub.

I have a feeling we will all land up in the pub early afternoon for a beer and a burger no doubt. I just know these women I will be accompanying on my educational tour.

I wonder, should I have the salad and a cup of tea, rather?

… my son …

Gilad Barkan

Quote of the day:

I’d like to change her idea of an adult. Jess Rodriguez (regarding changing a relationship between child and teacher).

Last night in class a student passionately shared how she was determined to find a way to reach a troubled child, and change her pattern of challenging behavior. She described all the problems in the child’s life and said, "I’d like to change her idea of an adult." I think I almost gasped out loud at the precious wisdom of that statement. I asked her if I could use it as my quote of the day and she agreed.

As I was driving home I remembered how, all my life, my own ideas of adults had been changed through the kindness of strangers. And, now, as I become older I realize the importance of surrounding myself with people who simply never shun or exclude, who make small stands for me every day, by accepting me as I am and validating my feelings. More than that, they create an emotional environment where I feel safe enough to share even the toughest emotions.

Bob, my therapist, was the first one to understand my fear of abandonment and exclusion if I shared what I really feel. He even stated it one session. "Nothing you could do or say would make me leave you," he said. I stared at him long and hard. "I know you don’t believe me," he continued, "but let me say it again so that you hear me: nothing you could do or say would make me leave you." If I recall correctly I probably whipped back with something biting and hurtful like, "Well, that’s because I pay you!" just to test him out there and then. But he just sat quietly and experienced my pain of disbelief together with me.

I remember many years ago reading You Are my Brother: Father Wasson’s Story of Hope for Children, about a Priest who created an orphanage in Mexico, and that one of the basic conditions was:

"… the sense of absolute security … namely that [any child] will not be dismissed for any reason whatsoever. The principal is really the principal of unconditional … love …"

He certainly must have changed their ideas of adults!

Last night, the student’s words rang deep in my brain and heart. I thought of the child she had chosen as her emotional challenge, and was grateful. Those early emotional memories leave scars forever and rise up as we play out the scripts over and over again until we learn, sometimes through excruciating pain, to change the patterns, break the mold and create new paradigms.

I know this to be true because recently I have been struggling with ancient hurts as, once again, I was forced to face down feelings of exclusion even though, this time, it is clearly my choice. The miraculous thing about it is that as I own it as my choice, continue to emotionally detox, I become, at the same time, filled with forgiveness.

For, I realize, those old adults simply know not what they do. They are so deeply wounded themselves.