Paddle Person Turns 1

In honor of my little girl turning one this week, I yet again turn to the source of all TV wisdom, Northern Exposure: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQBFFQ8ZX94

I made you, paddle person, because I had a dream: A little wooden man smiled at me. He sat in a canoe on a snowbank on this hill. Now the dream has begun to come true. The sun spirit will look down at the snow and the snow will melt and the water will run downhill to the river, on down to the Great Lakes, down again, on at last to the Sea. You will go on with the water and you will have adventures that I would love to have. But I cannot go with you because I have to stay and help my father with the traps.

"That's Paddle to the Sea folks, the story of a little Indian boy who sends a toy canoe on a journey that he himself is too young to take.
We do the same thing, you know -- Pioneer, Voyager, Galileo: our standard bearers in the eternal human crusade, exploration. And now we've hit the cosmic trail. Why? Well, because earth's played out.

You know, less than a hundred years ago, Amundsen could have been the first human being to reach the south Pole, Falcon Scott could have died trying, and now . . . well, last year China had to close down Mt. Everest, too much litter. The world's become a fragile place. It's not to be conquered, it's -- it's to be protected, coddled, nursed like a little baby. What do we do now? We launch our surrogates into interstellar space, dreaming of that one fine day when we ourselves can go." Chris Stevens

The lower half of the falls was hidden in mist with a rainbow across it. Paddle fell through the rainbow and went on falling. Paddle had ridden rapids. He had ridden the Mad River and seen the rapids at the Sioux, so big that ships went around them. But these rapids -- thirty foot waves rushed on shooting stars turning inside and out at every jump. Paddle flew up on a chain of wet volcanoes and plunged deep in submarine dives and took sudden trips toward the moon in green rockets.

"There's probably a lot of folks out there saying, "Man, I'm never going to have me a rush like that. Earth's a parking lot and outer space's just too pricey." Let me tell you something: there's lots of ways to blaze a trail. I always think back to those unsung heroes of the past, like that prehistoric gourmet who looked at that lobster and said, "I'm going to eat that," or the first healer who picked up a knife and said "Let's operate, boys." You see, adventures come in all kinds of shapes and sizes, like -- getting your hair cut, falling in love. Even getting behind the wheel and backing out of the driveway can be a sublime act of fate -- as well as a monumental act of courage." Chris Stevens

For that instant, he looked like his own paddle. There was a song in his heart. It crept to his lips but only the water and the wind could hear. You little traveler, you made the journey -- the long journey. You now know things I have yet to know, you little traveler. You were given a name, a true name in my father's lodge. Good medicine, little traveler. You are truly a paddle person.

Fifty years ago today, during a typically balmy February in Pittsburgh, my parents tied the knot, got hitched and stepped into the great unknown. Four kids and five grandkids later, they are celebrating their golden wedding anniversary. Below is the poem my brother wrote and made part of the quilt we gave them for the occasion. The quilt is a collection
of photos and well wishes from family and friends.

So even though they don't have email, I'll say thanks for all of the love and support you've given over the years. I think now you may be able to give St. Jude a little time off where I'm concerned.

Brian


A Living Quilt

Listen all, gathered in love and good cheer, Of a story not told but
lived. Now hear.

In nineteen hundred and fifty-two A bond began with a simple "I do." Now some believe in luck, and some in fate But young Cupid's day was the special date. Like thread, two hearts were tightly wound. Starting that day a new union was found.

Cupid's arrow was the needle for that thread And he stitched their lives together it's said. The stitches were strong, some delicate some bold. And he tailored life's fabric to comfort and hold.

Then this bond, so strong and true, soon added a patch of fabric brand new. The yardage of life then added three more; Growing the quilt in size and totaling four.

Each patch a different pattern, texture and tone Having learned of love, now starting quilts of their own.

Friends add the color and decorative stitches; For they're truly one of life's most valued riches. Add family for binding and tying together A work never finished and of great measure.

Now some patches wear and some even fade But the quilt holds together it's edges a bit frayed. But those wear marks are from love and a life lived together And the quilt comforts the makers in all kinds of weather. Some patches are added for strength and repair; A little thread, love and fabric will fix any tear.

Time goes by fast, like the blink of an eye And soon, fifty years of sewing flies by. But this loving quilt's made of memory patches And celebrates one of Heaven's best matches. There still are more spaces for adding new squares And everyone wishes you countless more years.

Robert C. T. Steele

Composed and stitched in honor of
the Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary of
Bob and Shirley Steele
February 14, 2002
by
Lyn Steele Ultsch, Claudia Steele,
Rob Steele, and Brian Steele
Presented December 30, 2001