http://www.townhall.com/columnists/michaelkelly/mk20030331.shtml

Lt. Col. Peter Bayer: "We are learning what happens when a principled nation goes up against an utterly unprincipled one.''

Four teary friends this morning at our weekly first-day meeting must be a record.

First, Valeria tells me after my message that I must have been inspired; the lesson made her cry. She promised to tell me later why she found my words so fitting. So my curiosity hangs in suspense.

Then her husband Otavio makes a few announcements at the end and, when he mentions that Marcel and Marlucia will be returning to Fortaleza next Sunday, gets choked up. Otavio and Marcel go a long way back.

During the always-animated chat afterwards, Marlucia can't hold it back and weeps as various ones kiss and hug her as they file out.

Tomorrow Robson enters a clinic for two months to help him overcome an addiction problem. His wife Luciana is content to see him finally making the effort. His mother Margarida, on one of her rare visits to our midst, had asked for prayers for her family and sons. As the group encourages them, her face contorts in fear and concern and her eyes, ever searching for comfort, pour out streams of tears.

Intelligent, observant, and inquisitive, four-year-old Rafael isn't crying, though. (When Vicki and I would go to their house, he was always tell on his parents when they had been fighting.) I call him over, sit down to talk man-to-man, and tell him that if he ever needs anything while his dad is away, to call me.

"Here, let me give you my card," I offer, as I zip open my fanny pack.

"Is this your home phone number?" he asks.

"It's got both numbers there," I point out. "If you need me you call, all right?"

"Okay, I will." He hops down and off he goes. He's already missed out on a lot of play with the other kids.

Want to read something from another world, read through Sir Richard Burton's Tales of the Arabian Nights. But it's not for kids.

Once in a while, something to catch your attention, like this quote:

Interest fails
in twice-told tales.

Mr. Rogers died Feb. 27. At age 74, from cancer. This children's television host brought decency to the idiot box. Shame our rural home didn't pick up the channel that broadcast his show when I was a child.

I almost put this entry off until tomorrow or the next day. Nah, do something now, anything ... I wondered why the "pro" in procrastinator? Perhaps because they (you expect me to include myself?) throw things forward until a (usually) unspecified date to do them?

So let's get the dictionary: I wasn't far off.

pro, forward + crastinus, belonging to the morrow, from cras, tomorrow.

Brazilians have a picturesque way of putting it: pushing [something] with the stomach. I suppose not unlike a dog will roll a ball with his snout.

So there. It's done. My entry for today. See, I'm no belly pusher.