One day a person was walking along a beach and  noticed hundreds and hundreds of starfish lying in the sun on the beach.  There were starfish as far as the eye could see.  The person knew that the starfish would die in the hot sun.

As the person kept walking,  a child was carefully picking up the starfish, one by one, and putting them back in the water.  It would take a very, very long time - maybe even forever - to put all of the starfish back.

“Hey,” the person said, “don’t you think you’re wasting your time?  There are so many, many starfish.  You can’t possibly save them all.”

“Maybe not,” said the child.  “But I’m doing what I can.”

“Yes, but do you really think you can make a difference?”

The child picked up a starfish and put it back in the water. 

“Made a difference to that one,” the child replied.

Advent is a season of preparing to make a difference in the world around us.  This year’s theme is Beads of Hope and Stars of Promise.  The Beads of Hope campaign is in conjunction with an international campaign, to raise the level of awareness and funds for the AIDS/HIV crisis in the world, particularly in Africa.  The Stars of Promise is a local endeavour,  in conjunction with the Chancel Committee as we prepare the church itself, for the Advent-Christmas- Epiphany Seasons.  Advent marks the beginning of the church year and comes at the darkest time of the year, when the days are shortened and the sun is furthest from the earth.  Children of Advent do not walk, as those who do not have light.  They walk in the light and towards the light. 

On the following dates, Tuesdays: 7:30-9:00pm beginning Nov. 25th and/or Wednesdays: 1:00 - 2:30pm beginning November 26th, I encourage you to join the Spiritual Care group and gather to make paper stars.  Each star comes with a story of a person, a concern, an interest,  a celebration, etc. that we want to hold out as a place, a time, an experience.  Or perhaps the star is a person who needs to hear the promise that they are not alone in the world.  These stars will be placed in the Sanctuary as part of the Advent theme.  If you are unable to make the Spiritual Care group, where we will share with one another the human stories, but you would like to make a star or stars at home,  please speak with me and we will make  arrangements. 

In Advent, we slow down and look around for Promise and Hope.  You are invited to  join us on this journey and one person at a time,  we will make a difference.

In Christ,

I would just like to take the opportunity to publicly thank Lora Moller, for taking time out from what I am sure is a busy schedule, to offer a parenting workshop on “Social Problem Solving”, to the B.U.C. community.  The information provided during this workshop was geared towards helping children and youth negotiate their way through conflict.  The approaches to conflict resolution that were presented, seem quite useful for anyone of any age.  This was the second workshop given by Lora that I have attended. I found both experiences to be very worthwhile.  For those parents who were unable to attend in October, cross your fingers, maybe Lora will be kind enough to offer another workshop, in the near future.  If she does, don’t miss it!

Sincerely,
Laura Hornby

Thank you for sharing.

To All:  I look forward to receiving more of your letters.  Feel free to email me at robinlttl@aol.com or call me at 695-9683 or when we meet let me know your thoughts.

Thank you!
Robin Little

        Some people get all sentimental about the good old days of childhood.  I don’t.  I hated being a kid.  I don’t miss any part of it—except? 

        Well, I guess it begins with the man at the depanneur, which we used to call the corner store.

        On the store counter was a shoebox filled with a row of account pads.  The man glanced over my little pile of groceries and pulled out the pad with Decarie on it.  Trois dollars, he wrote.  The shoebox was an institution.  On payday, you see, everyone used cash.  But cash soon ran out.  Then we were “on the bill” until next payday when everything would be settled.

        He didn’t ask for identification.  He knew who I was.  He knew my parents.  He knew our flat just down the street.  That’s community.

        When my parents had visitors on a winter night, they sat in the kitchen because the stove was there.  Since it was the only warm room, I would be in the kitchen with them, doing my homework.  My sister would be there too, playing with her doll.  And as my parents and their friends sipped hot tea, it was understood that young and old,  were all part of the conversation.  That’s community.

        If it was the night for Bob Hope, we’d all gather to listen to the radio, because everybody listened to the same shows and the next day, all the kids at school would repeat the punch lines.  That’s community. 

        That’s what I miss now that we live in the suburbs.  We call them communities.  But community is precisely what they aren’t.  Home is here.  But work is an hour away.  Most of our shopping is in a distant mall.  Even the depanneur is a car drive—and you can forget about putting anything “on the bill”. 

        Home divides us too, with separate parts for kids and parents.  A separate room for visitors where kids don’t go.  50 channels to choose from, so kids and parents don’t watch the same shows or even the same types of shows.

        Community in any real meaning of the word, the sort that brought us all together, is all but gone. Gone from stores and entertainment and neighbourhood, often gone even from the home.  Can we rediscover it?

        When I was a kid, our church, like most things in our world, was just a walk away and we were there regularly.  It wasn’t only for church and Sunday school.  It was bazaars and plays and socials and speakers.  Usually, it was all for us—kids and grownups, all mixed together.  As a kid, I felt safe there, cared for by friends of all ages and happy.  I feel sorry for kids who have never known that happiness, of community. 

        I think they can know it.  And the church may be the one institution that can do it.

        Here are some other things I would have told him about my childhood if I figured his system could have handled it:

        Some parents NEVER owned their house, wore Levis, set foot on a golf course, travelled out of the country or had a credit card.  In their later years, they had something called a revolving charge card.  The card was good only at Sears Roebuck.  Or maybe it was Sears AND Roebuck.  Either way, there is no Roebuck anymore.  Maybe he died.

        My parents never drove me to soccer practice.  This was mostly because we never had heard of soccer.  I had a bicycle that weighed probably 50 pounds, and only had one speed, slow.

        We didn’t have a television in our house until I was 11, but my grandparents had one before that.  It was, of course, black and white, but they bought a piece of colored plastic to cover the screen.  The top third was blue, like the sky and the bottom third was green, like grass.  The middle third was red.  It was perfect for programs that had scenes of fire trucks riding across someone’s lawn, on a sunny day.  Some people had a lens taped to the front of the TV to make the picture look larger.

Part 3 to come in 2004!

New Faces:  We welcome   Shannon Coté who is in her final year of study at Champlain College in the Special Care Counselling Program.   Shannon will be with us two days a week until Christmas.On Thursdays, Pierre, a nurse therapist, joins us for an hour of music therapy.  The team is benefitting from the time spent with these individuals.
Computer Work:   Thank you,  to those of you who have entrusted us with producing your signs, posters, etc.  This continues to provide us with an opportunity to put our computer, as well as our skills, to good use.
Candles:  Thank you to everyone who took monthly subscriptions this year.  We hope you are enjoying your candles.  New subscriptions are always welcome.  Would you like to receive candles every month, but perhaps not in the summer?, just certain colours?, only certain styles?  Let us know as arrangements are always available.  Christmas or other special orders are always welcome.   Speak to Shelley about sizes, colour selection, sparkles, shapes, etc?  Pre-packaged selections are always available from our basket in the Gallery.  Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.
Soap project:   Look for the launch of our new soap project.  100% vegetable glycerine PH neutral soap imported from England, will be here soon. 
Fall Fair:  Leona and Puja enjoyed participating with the other crafters at the U.C.W. Fall Fair.  We sold more candles than last year.  Lunch in the Tea Room was delicious.  Thank you to all, for your support by including members of the Readaption Team in church life. 

Members of the team enjoyed attending Sunday services in September and October.  Leona continues to attend Wednesday morning meditation and enjoys it very much.
 

At this time of year we are asked to examine our availability of time, talents and finances and to contemplate how we can contribute thsese resources, to help support Beaconsfield United Church.

B.U.C. requires approximately $200,000 a year, or $4,000 a week to operate.  All of these funds must come from the church members’ donations, rental income and fundraising.

The breakdown of income is approximately as follows:
 

Over the past six years or so, expenses have gradually increased but receipts have not.  This has resulted in a deficit and this trend needs to be reversed if our church community is to remain strong.  If we all offer a little more it can make the difference.

If you have not yet returned your Stewardship form please do so as soon as possible.  If you have, we offer our sincere thanks.

The Stewardship Campaign Committee worked hard to inform you of the opportunities for particupating in the growth of our church.  The committee, consisting of Shaun Fryday, Al Blair, Sheila Snelling, Doug Coleman, Maureen Garthouse, Jim Gartshore and myself would like to thank you for your interest and support during this time.
With Thanks, Marilyn Clark