CarmenJimersonCross
Bio
proper name? CarmenJimersonCross-Safieddine SHARING LIFE LIVED, things seen, lessons learned, and spreading peace where I can.
Read, like, and subscribe! Maybe toss a dollar tip into my "hat." Thanks! Carmen (still telling stories!)
Stories (113)
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SAGUARO KING
INTRODUCTION THE EGO... Strange thing when bolstered by overheard mutterings in the surrounding spaces. Also understood to closely resemble the overblown id, the swollen head syndrome, the art of being "too big for you britches," all these reflect our personal idea of ourselves when it is based upon assumption and not fact. It can create a situation that keeps those we would hope to attract on the opposite end of our personal space. It makes us closely resemble the...
By CarmenJimersonCross4 years ago in Fiction
WHY WE WALK
SHE PLEDGED ALONG WITH HER SISTERS DECADES AGO and now asks me "Why do we walk?" Of course I would need to look at her with some level of serious curiosity. She pledged, I didn't. She would need to know her own secrets. Here I sit as in days of old, looking to help my aunt through her complexities of life. Short of researching the world spilled to me, I couldn't know. Several inquiries and offers to pledge to a unit in and of myself, brought no consistent resolve other than that I should need to be a man... so I approached a "brother" and "B"d him. I be'd a man. DONE. That was in response to the high ranking message brought out by that brother from his "master?" in answer to my joining the A.N.S.A.R. SHRINE and my grandfather... a free mason, was long gone. He didn't take me to the Masons.. he took me to the Elks Lodge and then to the library. The next assembly time, he went to the ELKS and dropped me off at the library. I was 8 or 9 years of age. I couldn't join either organization and said I was on hold and unless I was a son or grandson, I could not join his organization. There are women's fraternal organizations that work toward the same or similar goals.
By CarmenJimersonCross4 years ago in Pride
MENTAL HEALTH TECH
I was introduced to MENTAL HEALTH... no, let's say I learned there were people with a MENTAL HEALTH problem after being hired to work a job in caregiving at age 19. The person hiring me marveled that someone my age applied for the job as MENTAL HEALTH TECHNICIAN... trainee, at the time; but she hired me because I "showed promise via my nerves and attitude." The basic requirement was that an applicant must have had experience in caregiving. I had taken care of children. I was compassionate and sympathetic to distraught individuals. I was hired to train as a paraprofessional at a major mental health hospital for adults. In 1976, adults who were determined to be MENTALLY RETARDED by the state of Illinois. The opposite side of the hospital on different institutional grounds housed those who fell to MENTAL ILLNESS from any of the many upsets in life. It was a rude awakening. My caregiving prior to this job was limited to my own two babies, not even old enough for elementary school.
By CarmenJimersonCross4 years ago in Humans
LIONHEART
INTRODUCTION Courage comes at the most unexpected of times. Where courage appears, there is generally an added burst of strength to support it. The adrenaline that provides our muscle strength, fuels the sudden intellect for self-defense or survival. Even in the face of adversity, it allows us to muster the power of the
By CarmenJimersonCross4 years ago in Fiction
Candle in the Other Window
SOMEWHERE AROUND THE WORLD, a little boy was playing in the yard close to the front door in reach of his mother’s voice. “Ala! don’t go near the street … don’t leave the doorway! Your uncle will be coming soon!” Alert as any ten year old and equally inquisitive as any other boy, Ala checked his activity and stepped back a few paces closer to the door. He looked at his clothing and brushed briefly where the dirt he had collected near his cuff and sandals before returning to his passion! The scorpion, raked back toward the door with the stick in his hand, was going to lose this battle regardless of his mother’s intervention. He was not one to give up easily. As he stirred at the crustacean in the sandy soil, he kept watch on the hustle of those around him, in the plaza and beyond. It was a thing he had learned to do at a young age. Only months before there had been a man gutted in the square. Even from the doorway, he could see enough to see what was happening. An angry mob had strung him up on a scaffold, poked and prodded until one angry man swung a blade. With one slice through air flesh and red gore sprung forth and the man was gone. He was killed in an instant. The people in the square had run around, some screaming, others jeering; but he’d stood still… feet planted for lack of emotion and on command by his mother not to move. She came to him then, and brought him inside before he could think to digest his vision. Now he stood, obedient, but aloof; in their wait for Ali to arrive. It was the kind of playground Ala lived in. It was one where the playing doorway could bring instant death. Arrival of the uncle would be his mother’s way out. They were seeking the only out known to anyone for generations. They were going to leave. She hoped to convince him to take her… take them with him on his next trip out of the country. She would talk to him, as they had talked when they were younger. In their teen years they toyed with the ideal of being tied to each other as man and wife. It was not uncommon to marry a family member or friend of the family to keep relations and interests close to heart. They had been close in their preteen years and both born on the family farmlands and vineyard in Tyre where the men of the family farmed, harvested and worked to make money from products made by family. Now, in Beirut, things were different. They were still family, but dependent on a different source of existence. Reliant on a different stage of society.
By CarmenJimersonCross4 years ago in Fiction
Child Hearing Loss
We all know the ramifications of age. We know it brings with it, aging tends to bring HEARING LOSS. But there is a population that falls victim to the world of silence at or near birth so that they never learn the total beauty that nature and life has to offer. The total or partial inability to hear sounds classified as mild, moderate, severe and profound. While MILD HEARING LOSS is the retention of some sense of hearing… incapable of hearing sounds like whispered conversations, dripping water, leaves rustling, feet shuffling on floors/carpets, and birds chirping, MODERATE HEARING LOSS is a more acute loss in one or both ears… they may be unable to hear sounds like normal conversation or the ringing of a telephone. Those classified with SEVERE HEARING LOSS can hear some sounds, but very poorly. They may not be able to hear someone speaking, even if they are using a normal voice. They may be able to hear only very loud sounds. PROFOUND HEARING LOSS designates the ability to hear only very loud speech or loud sounds. People with severe hearing loss cannot hear speech at a conversational level and for people with profound hearing loss, loud sounds are mainly only perceived as vibrations.
By CarmenJimersonCross4 years ago in Families
TALKING ROCK TALES
Granite and Sandi Stone "I was the foundation of the everything, you know." Grani let out a deep sigh. The sparkles that were his eyes flickered so that anyone far below or far away could see him. Sandy, who sat right at his feet, sighed along with her friend. They were much alike. Alike, except that Grani had been here longer. Grani had been pushed from the far distances up north. He had seen the place called, THE BOWELS and even had stories to tell about the time the COLD CUT came across. He had truly been around in time. With time, he had grown harder than anything Sandi could imagine.
By CarmenJimersonCross4 years ago in Fiction
STRONG FOUNDATION
They sat beneath the old willow in the back yard, sipping tea steeped long and strong by the grandmother. As they did, an occasional crunch could be heard as one of the three boys bit into an ice cube piled high in his tumbler. They were discussing the sermon of the day as delivered by the grandfather. "And just why do you suppose they were arguing in those days... If it wasn't over the women?" A brother replied, "There's always an argument for women, it makes them feel like someone. They always want to be... Feel special." The third brother insisted it was over the right to have things of one's own. "Some of them had lots of money. If they had money, then there were others who would have tried to take the money or their things. The argument is better than killing the thief... They had to argue over money and things because you can always get another woman." They each sat quietly for a moment, contemplating the rationale of valuable things, women and money. The possession of things could bring one fame.
By CarmenJimersonCross4 years ago in Fiction
