Hope's Cafe

I had trouble getting blog to post last night. I was trying to repost an old blog in addition to one I had just written and that is not what is showing up. But the old one is still available as Mercy Now. I’m searching for a way to send correctly. My apologies for the confusion. Kate

Mercy Now

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

Up early making muffins, out of the blue, the words practically sting my brain: “The quality of Mercy is not strained.” I am no literary scholar, am not well versed in Shakespeare.  Yet the power of these classic words resonate in some powerful, inexplicable way. 

You may recall the quote from a famous monologue by Portia in The Merchant of Venice, which emphasizes the power and virtue of mercy over strict justice. In Act 4, scene 1, during the trial scene Portia pleads for mercy on behalf of Antonio, who owes a debt to Shylock, the moneylender.  Portia’s argument is justice demands strict adherence to the law yet mercy transcends justice.  She calls mercy “twice blest,” as both giver and receiver benefit. Further, she suggests It is more befitting of a king to rule with mercy.  Portia believes that when people behave mercifully tow,ards one another they are demonstrating a divine quality reflecting God’s own heart.

Her argument is quite cogent and worthy of consideration in these days of deportation, detention, destruction of lives and livelihoods, property and infrastructure and countries.  Even Abraham Lincoln, who oversaw the Civil War in the United States, said “I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice, “ emphasizing the transformative power of mercy over rigid enforcement of rules.

Why these words landed in my head on this particular day escapes me.  But I use them as another reminder that we can cultivate mercy in our lives daily, regardless of what is going on in the world.  In fact, what is going on in the world makes such efforts critical to the survival and wellbeing of the world we inhabit. 

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

P. S.  I am sending a bonus blog, a repeat of “Mercy Now,” previously published in September 19, 2025, as it is related.

Two Cups af Tea at Hope’s Café

May 1, 2020, I launch kateshopecafe.net.  What were my goals at the time? I wanted to take advantage of the time afforded me by the pandemic when so many of my normal activities were suspended.  I thought a blog would require me to be more disciplined at a time when a lack of structure had descended into my typically scheduled life.  I don’t think I really expected to still be doing this six years later.  Thus every year when May 1 rolls around, I ask myself, “Do I keep this going?”

What have I accomplished? I have never done much promotion of my site.  In the six years, only a few more from the original group have become followers of kateshopecafe. However, in the past week, there were people from 49 countries who read it.  Over the six years folks from 75 countries have dropped into kateshopecafe to share “a cup of tea.”  Stunning to me.  Yet, what really keeps me going are the occasional comments encouraging me to stay the course.

While I have altered the blog a bit over time—longtime followers may remember when a recipe of some sort was included at the end of Hope’s Café—it remains my intention to offer something of interest and, in the best case, something uplifting, something hopeful.  As the world has become more inexplicable to me, greed, hate, fear growing like the kudzu that abounds in  the southern regions of the United States, the opportunity to continue the blog to scatter even the tiniest seeds of hope seems worthwhile. Perhaps someday I will feel a different direction.  But that time is not now.

When I pastored we had a yearly planning meeting with 3 month, 6 month and 9 month reviews of where we were with the goals we had set. While this “annual review” is directed to my blog, regular assessment —not necessarily yearly!—of how we spend our time, how we conduct our lives, is a worthwhile effort. 

P.S. My apologies to those who have had a hard time getting comments posted.  I monkeyed with the settings trying to make it easier.  The outcome of that was that one person who frequently comments under her name now shows up as “anonymous.”  I am only aware of that because she let me know that happened.  I thought I had gained someone new! 

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.Two Cups af Tea at Hope’s Café

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Cafe

Some years ago a friend gave me the book this is getting old by Susan Moon.  Being older now, some of its wisdom resonates more readily!  She modifies Thich Naht Hahn’s quote “Present moment, wonderful moment” (still relevant of course) to “Senior moment, wonderful moment.” She describes these as “little coffee breaks of the brain.”  What a delightful reframing of what can otherwise be quite annoying or even troublesome.

“A senior moment is a stop sign on the road of life,” she wrote. “It could even be a leg up toward enlightenment.  So I stay calm, let the engine idle, and enjoy the scenery. What happens next will be revealed in due course.”

Her lighthearted approach as an asset in aging is well supported in medical research.  Humor and laughter can promote social connections, increase oxygen levels and foster lung health,  stimulate endorphins which are natural pain killers,  decrease stress and cortisol in the body, increase blood flow to enhance cardiovascular health.  Even the act of telling a joke involves cognitive skills which sharpen the brain.

Humor can also be an apt assistant in helping us accept limitations we encounter as well as when we take on  challenges to learn something new. When our brains and bodies are not as responsive as they once were, humor can be a lifesaver. 

An Associated Press article I came across mentioned that the modern study of laughter—gelotology—began emerging in the 1960s.

According to the AP, Stanford University psychologist William F. Fry, one of gelotology’s founders, drew blood samples from himself while watching Laurel and Hardy. He discovered that laughter increased the number of immune-boosting blood cells.

In 1995, Dr. Madan Kataria, a physician in Mumbai, got wind of the emerging research as editor of a health magazine while researching an article on stress management. To combat his own stress, he started the first daily laughter club in a park. It ballooned from a handful of participants to more than 150 within a month, he said.

There is actually a Global Laughter Clubs Directory (help@laughteryoga.org).  But if you don’t find that intriguing or suited to your needs, perhaps just shooting for more laughter in your life seems doable.   I recall as a therapist I came across a suggestion to make it a goal to have 10 chuckles and three good belly laughs a day.  When I googled it for the blog, I found a recommendation of two to five times a week to engage in belly laughter. 

This is such a difficult time in our fractured world.  Finding things to laugh about doesn’t sound like a reasonable goal.  Perhaps, counterintuitively, that only elevates its importance.

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

This week a friend who had been out gardening sent a message that working there had left her feeling like a “gardener of hope.”  The phrase has stayed with me.  I have had the opportunity to sit in that delightful space she and her husband have created and even the memory of it incites a hopeful spirit in me.

Such a hopeful spirit is not easy to come by these days.  Yet there are those moments when hope seems present and available. I experienced it at a restaurant last night in a playful exchange with a baby at the next table over. I experience it anytime I am walking the quiet paths at Harrison Bay or sitting watching the water lap softly against the shore.  Even a cup of tea in a favorite mug sends a message to my brain to be peaceful, hopeful.

Yet hope can be such a fragile, thin thread.  Think of those fleeing war and famine, or worse yet trapped by it.  I remember those folks daily and support charities whose efforts are engaged on their behalf.  But I have worked with people in such dire straights that I wondered if I had even a tenth of their courage.  It seemed the more difficult their circumstances the more they maintained some corner of hope in their downtrodden spirits to keep going.

My friend’s words cause me to think not only about the cultivation of her garden.  What about the actions we take to cultivate the gardens, the atmosphere, of our lives?  My great niece posted on Facebook this week the quote: “Pray for a good harvest but keep hoeing.”  We have the dual challenge to focus on developing hopeful spirits, conveying that sense in our daily lives, and also to take the actions that reinforce that, multiply the effect. 

Let us pray for a good harvest but keep hoeing, folks.  Just a tip:  you might start right now by googling Mary Oliver’s “The Garden .”

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

“Hope is a muscle,” I read recently.  Elsewhere I heard on a podcast to “practice hope.”  Maybe they are onto something.  This topic is especially relevant at a time when there are so much uncertainty that despair would seem to be a more reasonable response. 

“To hope in a world so fractured, so cynical, so tired—that’s not foolishness. That’s defiance. That’s strength. That’s survival,” wrote Muhammad Tuhin in “Science News” in his article “The Psychology of Hope:  Why It’s More Important Than You Think.”

Tuhin describes hope residing in the brain.  “The feeling of hope activates areas like the prefrontal cortex—the same region responsible for goal-setting, decision-making, and problem-solving. When we feel hopeful, our brains light up with activity that helps us plan, persist, and persevere. In other words, hope is not passive. It is profoundly active.”

“Hope changes the brain—and the brain changes the body,” Tuhin continues. “This is why hopelessness can be so deadly. It’s not just a feeling. It’s a shutdown of the system. A neurological collapse. When hope disappears, so does the signal to keep going.”

If we thought hope was some pie-in-the-sky-wishing-on-a-star kind of thing, the stakes are much higher!  We owe it to ourselves to practice, practice, practice hope.  Think of any skill you have invested in developing.  That effort involved repeated efforts to learn.  If you are inclined toward despair, it is not too late to alter your course.  Your brain, your body will thank you.   

Just a reminder: “Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it,” said Helen Keller, who had no small amount of suffering and challenge in her own life.  And this quote was one of 33 quotes put together by a Ukrainian who wrote that she was collecting them on the day that her university where she had spent six years, as had her husband, had just been destroyed.  She wrote: “With everything that’s happening in the world, I feel like hope is sometimes the only thing we can hold on to. This is why I created this collection of inspirational quotes about hope in hard times.”

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

In these tumultuous times, I find myself on the alert for heroes, those who have survived difficult times by virtue of their persistent and determined attitude.  I came across the story of Tibor “Ted” Rubin, a Hungarian who was liberated from a concentration camp by American soldiers.  He was 15 years old, the only remaining member of his family.  He barely weighed 70 pounds.  The soldiers fed him soup, bread, and chocolate.  He determined he would one day become one of those American soldiers. And he did.  By 1950 he was wearing the American uniform, despite being an immigrant who spoke broken English.

Unfortunately, his sergeant denigrated him in front of others and sent him on the most dangerous assignments.  The pattern became obvious to the other soldiers, who would later testify that the sergeant seemed to believe that one of these assignments would eventually kill this Jewish immigrant. In the Korean war, alone on an exposed position, he was given the task of staying behind to provide cover for the withdrawing troops. North Korean troops were advancing.  For nearly twenty-four hours Rubin moved constantly to give the impression there were more defenders. He would take ammunition from dead soldiers to keep going.  When American forces at last returned they expected to find a body.  Instead they found him still standing guard, surrounded by corpses.   The teen who had survived the concentration camp, once again survived.

Then he was taken prisoner yet again.  From the U.S. Army official website:

“When battle ended in Unsan, hundreds of Soldiers were taken prisoner by the Chinese. They were forced to march to a camp known today as “Death Valley.” Ill-dressed for winter’s freezing temperatures, exhausted and hungry, many of them grew sick with dysentery, pneumonia or hepatitis. Others died. “It was so cold that nobody wanted to move, and the food we got was barely enough to keep us alive,” said Sgt. Richard A. Whalen. “But Rubin was a tremendous asset to us, keeping our spirits up when no one felt good.”

Years in a Nazi concentration camp had taught Rubin ways of survival that most humans never need know. He knew how to make soup out of grass, what weeds had medicinal qualities and that the human body can sometimes prevail if a person’s mind is in the right place. What his comrades needed, Rubin knew, was hope — hope to keep them moving and hope to make them fight for their lives.”

 At least forty men credited him with saving their lives.

  On September 28, 2005, Rubin, the notable hero, received the well-deserved medal of honor. But there are many heroes we encounter every day.  I think of a fellow I met only briefly years ago when a group of us were at the Tennessee capital in Nashville, rallying for a bill before the state lawmakers to expand health insurance across the state.   Every day he deals with the many complications from the life-ending disease Multiple System Atrophy.  I think of a friend who daily ministers to her husband who suffers from Parkinson’s and another friend who only recently learned of her own Parkinson’s diagnosis.  I consider the medical heroes who devote themselves to the care of people in these kinds of circumstances. 

That list doesn’t begin to encompass all the people who labor daily often against great odds, whether of the medical variety or of the type of challenges such as food insecurity, lack of adequate or any housing,  inability to access healthcare, disabilities of many kinds to include mental health problems and addiction.

Last week Hope’s Café saluted the black community for their seeking to overcome disadvantages they experience.  Today Hope’s Café would expand that affirmation to all those who day after day meet their challenges. 

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

Glow Up, Folks!  I am a little late to the party, having only discovered this phrase recently.  For the uninitiated, this means: “a significant positive transformation in appearance, confidence, or 

overall presence, often reflecting personal growth and self-improvement.”(Copilot)

This can refer to a change in personal appearance or in a larger sense, to increased confidence, a noticeable difference in how one presents oneself to others.  Glowing up can be the result of greater mental and emotional wellbeing, or lifestyle changes.

The term owes its usage to black culture in the Bronx. As the story goes, Keith “Cowboy” Wiggins wrote a scat song (music rooted in early jazz and West African musical traditions, where fixed syllables are assigned to percussion patterns) to tease his friend who had just joined the army.   

The made-up words “hip” and “hop” were alternated “in a way that mimicked the rhythmic cadence of marching soldiers. Cowboy later worked the “hip hop” cadence into his stage performance.^[25][26] The group frequently performed with disco artists who would refer to this new type of music by calling them “hip hoppers”. The name was originally meant as a sign of disrespect, but soon came to identify this new music and its broader culture.^[27] “ (Wikipedia).

There would seem to be something both ironic and hopeful in the fact that “glowing up” comes from the black culture, where poverty rates have always been high.

The Journal of Blacks in Higher Education reports that “ In 2022 poverty rate was the lowest on record for Black Americans at 17.1 percent. In 2023, the poverty rate for African Americans rose to 17.9 percent. In 2024, 18.4 percent of Black Americans were poor. This was 2.4 times the rate for non-Hispanic White Americans. More than 8.4 million African Americans were living with incomes below the official poverty rate.

The supplemental poverty measure (SPM) rate extends the official poverty measure by accounting for several government programs that are designed to assist low-income families but are not included in official poverty measure calculations. The SPM also accounts for geographic variation in housing expenses when calculating the poverty thresholds and includes federal and state taxes, work expenses, and medical expenses. The SPM does not replace the official poverty measure; however, it does provide a different metric of economic well-being that includes resources from government programs and tax credits to low-income families.

“In 2024, the SPM poverty rate for Blacks was 20.7 percent, an increase from 18.5 percent in 2023. The SPM poverty rate for Blacks in 2021 was 11.3 percent. The large increase in the SPM rate was due to the end of many pandemic-related programs that expired. The SPM child poverty rate for Blacks under the age of 18 in 2024 was 22.7 percent, up from 20.3 percent in 2023 and 8.1 percent in 2021.”

Always at a disadvantage in multiple arenas, how astounding that blacks would find ways to inject hope, as they have through the centuries, with music being a prime avenue.  Hip Hop, first viewed with disdain, became embedded in the culture.    Talk about “glowing up.”  They exemplify it! Hope’s Café salutes them.

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

*** A white, blue-eyed blonde, always aware of my privilege, I ponder that this blog went this direction that I didn’t anticipate.  My black adopted now five year-old  granddaughter perhaps makes me more aware of culture-related issues.  The child loves music. She shows talent already for both singing and dancing.  (But please don’t make me listen to Kpop Demon Hunters songs again anytime soon!  It has taken me nearly a week since we returned from our most recent visit not to hear them in my sleep! )