For more than 30 years, my grandmother lived in a boarding house situated in a gorgeous old brownstone near the University Hospital, where she was the head night nurse on the psychiatric ward.
Over the years, during numerous visits to Grammy, I came to know and love the others in the house, many of whom were also long-time residents. There was one man in particular who was considered a bit odd because his room was piled high with newspapers.
It wasn't a mean-spirited assessment. I just think that my Grammy didn't know him very well and, on the surface, all those piles of newspapers were incomprehensible to her. It turns out that he was interested in politics, and he went on to become a public servant of some sort. The newspapers made perfect sense in that context.
Whenever I run across the occasional eccentric, I think about that man and his piles of newspapers. I assume that the eccentricities of everyone make some kind of sense in some context as yet unknown to me.
So far, it has been my experience that eccentrics bring valuable, if unexpect gifts, to the table. I make an effort to remember this when I come into contact with people whose behavior is outside the norm. Of course, sometimes they ARE crazy, but, more often than not, they're not.
I am dedicating my prayers today to the eccentrics of the world.
God bless us all.
Silver Rose
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