On this very special day

A letter from Heaven

To my dearest family, some things I'd like to say.
But first of all, to let you know, that I arrived okay.

I'm writing this from heaven. Here I dwell with God above.
Here, there's no more tears of sadness; Here is just eternal love.

Please do not be unhappy just because I'm out of sight.
Remember that I am with you every morning, noon and night.

That day I had to leave you when my life on earth was through.
God picked me up and hugged me and He said, "I welcome you."

"It's good to have you back again, you were missed while you were gone.
As for your dearest family, They'll be here later on.

I need you here so badly, you are part of my plan.
There is so much that we can do, to help our mortal man."

God gave me a list of things, that he wished for me to do.
And foremost on the list, was to watch and care for you.

And when you lie in bed at night the day's chores put to flight.
God and I are closest to you.... in the middle of the night.

When you think of my life on earth, and all those loving years.
Because you are only human, they are bound to bring you tears.

But do not be afraid to cry; it does relieve the pain.
Remember there would be no flowers, unless there was some rain.

I wish that I could tell you all that God has planned.
If I were to tell you, you wouldn't understand.

But one thing is for certain, though my life on earth is over.
I'm closer to you now, than I ever was before.

There are rocky roads ahead of you and many hills to climb;
But together we can do it by taking one day at a time.

It was always my philosophy and I'd like it for you too;
That as you give unto the world, the world will give to you.

If you can help somebody who is in sorrow and pain;
Then you can say to God at night...."My day was not in vain.

And now I am contented... that my life was worthwhile.
Knowing as I passed along the way I made somebody smile."

So if you meet somebody who is sad and low;
Just lend a hand to pick them up, as on your way you go.

When you're walking down the street and you've got me on your mind;
I'm walking in your footsteps only half a step behind.

God's Boxes

I have in my hands two boxes,
Which God gave me to hold.
He said, 'Put all your sorrows in the black box,
And all your joys in the gold.'
I heeded His words, and in the two boxes,
Both my joys and sorrows I stored,
But though the gold became heavier each day,
The black was as light as before.

With curiosity, I opened the black,
I wanted to find out why,
And I saw, in the base of the box, a hole,
Which my sorrows had fallen out by.

I showed the hole to God, and mused,
'I wonder where my sorrows could be! '
He smiled a gentle smile and said,
'My child, they're all here with me..'


I asked God, why He gave me the boxes,
Why the gold and the black with the hole?
'My child, the gold is for you to count your blessings,
The black is for you to let go.'

~Arielle Perkins

Sentencing of 'Shoe Bomber' Richard Reid
Ruling by Judge William Young, US District Court.

Prior to sentencing, the Judge asked the defendant if he had anything to say.
His response: After admitting his guilt to the court for the record, Reid also admitted his 'allegiance to Osama bin Laden, to Islam, and to the religion of Allah,' defiantly stating, 'I think I will not apologize for my actions,' and told the court 'I am at war with your country.'
Judge Young then delivered the statement quoted below:

Judge Young: 'Mr. Richard C. Reid, hearken now to the sentence the Court imposes upon you. On counts 1, 5 and 6 the Court sentences you to life in prison in the custody of the United States Attorney General. On counts 2, 3, and 7, the Court sentences you to 20 years in prison on each count, the sentence on each count to run consecutively. (That's 80 years.)
On count 8 the Court sentences you to the mandatory 30 years again, to be served consecutively to the 80 years just imposed. The Court imposes upon you for each of the eight counts a fine of $250,000 that's an aggregate fine of $2 million. The Court accepts the government's recommendation with respect to restitution and orders restitution in the amount of $298.17 to Andre Bousquet and $5,784 to American Airlines.

The Court imposes upon you an $800 special assessment. The Court imposes upon you five years supervised release simply because the law requires it. But the life sentences are real life sentences so I need go no further. This is the sentence that is provided for by our statutes. It is a fair and just sentence. It is a righteous sentence.

Now, let me explain this to you. We are not afraid of you or any of your terrorist co-conspirators, Mr. Reid. We are Americans. We have been through the fire before. There is too much war talk here and I say that to everyone with the utmost respect. Here in this court, we deal with individuals as individuals and care for individuals as individuals. As human beings, we reach out for justice.

You are not an enemy combatant. You are a terrorist. You are not a soldier in any war. You are a terrorist. To give you that reference, to call you a soldier, gives you far too much stature. Whether the officers of government do it or your attorney does it, or if you think you are a soldier, you are not----- you are a terrorist. And we do not negotiate with terrorists. We do not meet with terrorists. We do not sign documents with terrorists. We hunt them down one by one and bring them to justice.

So war talk is way out of line in this court. You are a big fellow. But you are not that big. You're no warrior. I've known warriors. You are a terrorist. A species of criminal that is guilty of multiple attempted murders. In a very real sense, State Trooper Santiago had it right when you first were taken off that plane and into custody and you wondered where the press and the TV crews were, and he said: 'You're no big deal.' You are no big deal.

What your able counsel and what the equally able United States attorneys have grappled with and what I have as honestly as I know how tried to grapple with, is why you did something so horrific. What was it that led you here to this courtroom today?

I have listened respectfully to what you have to say. And I ask you to search your heart and ask yourself what sort of unfathomable hate led you to do what you are guilty and admit you are guilty of doing? And, I have an answer for you. It may not satisfy you, but as I search this entire record, it comes as close to understanding as I know.

It seems to me you hate the one thing that to us is most precious. You hate our freedom. Our individual freedom. Our individual freedom to live as we choose, to come and go as we choose, to believe or not believe as we individually choose. Here, in this society, the very wind carries freedom. It carries it everywhere from sea to shining sea. It is because we prize individual freedom so much that you are here in this beautiful courtroom, so that everyone can see, truly see, that justice is administered fairly, individually, and discretely. It is for freedom's sake that your lawyers are striving so vigorously on your behalf, have filed appeals, will go on in their representation of you before other judges.

We Americans are all about freedom. Because we all know that the way we treat you, Mr. Reid, is the measure of our own liberties. Make no mistake though. It is yet true that we will bear any burden; pay any price, to preserve our freedoms. Look around this courtroom. Mark it well. The world is not going to long remember what you or I say here. The day after tomorrow, it will be forgotten, but this, however, will long endure.

Here in this courtroom and courtrooms all across America, the American people will gather to see that justice, individual justice, justice, not war, individual justice is in fact being done. The very President of the United States through his officers will have to come into courtrooms and lay out evidence on which specific matters can be judged and juries of citizens will gather to sit and judge that evidence democratically, to mold and shape and refine our sense of justice.

See that flag, Mr. Reid? That's the flag of the United States of America. That flag will fly there long after this is all forgotten. That flag stands for freedom. And it always will.
Mr. Custody Officer. Stand him down.

So, how much of this Judge's comments did we hear on our TV sets?
Powerful words that strike home.

If You Forget Me
I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda

The Trembling of Blame

Please, don't get lost in the oil spill of my blame.
The fire that follows could easily cause shame.
The stains on my sweater will show you my weather,
And it is sure I am someone you cannot tether.

My strokes are unsteady as I tread in the night,
But my hands show my vigor, my stealth, and my might.
The sandbags rest heavily on their eyes' furry tail,
While the ocean is calling on something so frail.

My labyrinth of language has torn at the beach.
The truth seems so close, yet so far out of reach.
Blood is so blue it drives life to its sheath,
But it is to you my dear, my mind, I bequeath.

Christine M. Petrarca