Today was plain fun. KK and I went shopping and bought her a pair of brown floppy pants and several shirts. She chose carefully, has simple practical taste right now. She picked tailored knit shirts that look good on her well muscled body, but really are very simple and classic. Even the Easter dress possibility she liked best is simple, a strait peach pink flowered calico dress with buttons up the front, a discreet ruffle at the hem, and a little pink sweater - less frilly than the description I wrote. We may go back and get that one if she doesn't find something else she likes better. She knows about sales and sizes and is willing to add prices and stay within a limit. She is rare among females I've known in being able to say "I don't look good in this one" without any shame or awkwardness - realistic self-confidence there. She was so proud of herself for not having the "gimmes" in a store full of beautiful clothes that looked great on her. And I had a blast watching her try on clothes, feeding her lazagne, just being in her company.
Then, tonight, Bob and I watched the movie Tsosie about a boy who grew up in extreme poverty and abuse in South Africa - (put out of the house by his father as his mother was dying) - became a harsh criminal killing for money for food and beer - until he carjacked a car with a baby in it. In the aftermath of finding the baby his own humanity (re?)emerged. This was a powerful film, artistically masterful, with hope in it about the human spirit but set in such bleakness. So many of the people of the world live in such bleakness - impose their bleakness on others. A far cry from KK being proud of herself for not pushing me to buy an extra shirt. How many kids have never had even one shirt or dress bought new?
Last week we watched the movie Mother Theresa, and more than anything I was impressed by the simplicity of Mother Theresa's mission. She had lived years in a convent near Calcutta without really seeing the poorest of the poor. Once she saw them, she was drawn to live and work among them and she did. She didn't believe that organization and planning were helpful to the implementation of what she saw as God's work - was most comfortable keeping the implementation simple, and doors kept opening. She saw herself as "God's pencil".
I wish it were that simple for me - that I felt a sense of pure and definite mission - knew clearly what message to convey with my life. I don't think I have a single message life - but maybe only saints do.