When I think of home, I think of a place
where there was love overflowing.
I wish I was home, I wish I was back there.
Mid all the things I knew while I was growing.
‘Neath the amber colored night, sidewalks glistened gritty beauty,
When suddenly the raindrops that fall, had a mission, a duty
as they showered Duquesne, with a cool cleansing rain.
Maybe there’s a chance for me to go back
Now that I have some direction.
It sure would be so nice to be back home
where there’s love and affection.
And just maybe, I can convince time to slow up,
giving me enough time in my life, to grow up.
Time be my friend and let me start again.
That world is gone now and changed its face,
but I still know where I’m going.
My mind has been part of life’s foolish rat race,
and yet I’ve felt it growing.
I’ve learned that we must look inside our hearts to find
a world full of love, like our childhood’s kind,
(Adapted from “Home,” by Charlie Smalls)
For some reason, I feel more homesick for the Duquesne of my childhood than ever. Perhaps it’s the result of several wonderful and positive comments that my blog recently received from all of you. It certainly made me feel that my efforts were worthwhile, and that more importantly, I was at least bringing a smile to someone’s face. I am overjoyed with the fact that The Duquesne Hunky Blog has had over 257,000 hits since its inception. Who would have thought!
I tend to think of my posts at times as just some of the casual ramblings that friends and neighbors used to have while sitting around on a cool summer evening. Let’s just call them “Front Porch Conversations.”
As I got older, running and playing the outdoor games that children play at night became a thing of the past. Catching lightening bugs, hide and go seek or just the simple joy of chasing one another, gave way to spending idle time, with family, friends and neighbors.
All during high school and college, I spent so many summer days and/or evenings sitting on my Aunt Mary’s front porch at her home on Martin St. The porch was a shady retreat from the summer heat as well as a cool rainy day. Since the front and sides of the porch had heavy canvas awnings, we were always protected from the scorching sun and from the foulest of summer showers. I recall sitting for hours on end, talking about whatever crossed our minds as a steady stream of neighbors would come, sit a spell and then move on to other activities.
Coffee was always the beverage of choice regardless of the temperature. Somehow, sitting there chatting while drinking a hot cup of coffee, made the conversation sweeter. It reminds me of the story that someone forwarded to me years ago. It puts a smile on my face every time I read it.
On the first day of class, a university professor stood in front of his philosophy class with an empty mayonnaise jar.
Without saying a word to his students, he removed the lid of the jar and filled it with golf balls. When no more golf bars fit he closed the jar with its lid. He then asked his class, “Would you say that the jar is now full?” His students observed the jar and concluded that the jar was indeed full.
The professor then proceeded to open the jar up and started inserting marbles into the jar. The marbles started to fill the gaps between the golf balls. After sealing the jar, he asked his class once again if they thought the jar was now full. The class concluded that the jar was indeed now full.
The professor opened the jar a third time and started pouring in sand. Obviously, the sand started filling the gaps between the golf balls and the marbles. He then sealed the jar and asked his class a third time if the jar was full. His class chuckled and replied in unison, “Yes, it is now full!”
The professor opened the jar and emptied two small cups of coffee in the jar. The liquid had completely filled the gap between the golf balls, the marbles, and the grains of sand. He then began his lecture.
“I hope you realize that life is very much like this jar. The golf balls represent the important things in life, like God, family, loved ones, health, things that you care intimately about. If we lost everything else in life, our lives would still be ‘full’. The marbles are the other things in our lives that are important, but our happiness shouldn’t depend on them. Things like our work, our house, our car, etc. Finally, the sand represents everything else; the small stuff.
“If we were to have filled our jar up with sand first, there we wouldn’t have had enough room for the marbles or the golf balls. If we use all our life and energy on the small stuff, we won’t have any room for the important things.”
After a brief moment of silence, one of the students asked, “Professor, what does the coffee represent?”
“Ah, I’m glad you asked,” replied the professor. “It means that no matter how full your life is, there is always room for a cup of coffee with a friend.”
I think that the jar represents each person, and the way they choose to fill it represents their life choices. Sometimes, when I read it, I recognize that maybe I’ve given golf ball space to something that should be marble or sand sized. At any rate, it always gives me something to think about.