Margaret "Maggie" Worthen

Visit http://www.CaringBridge.org for the main website and enter "margaretworthen" as the site name.

Currently friends and family are fundraising for medical and legal expenses and to purchase a handicapped equipped van.
Donations can be made to Nancy Worthen/ Fund for Maggie, 51 Hammond Street, Providence RI 02909.
For info, go to http://www.magswheels.org.

Dancing

by a friend of Maggie

They told me one day that the cranes were gone. The black crowned crane,
the sandhill crane, the whooping crane, the red crowned crane, the blue
crane, and even the common crane. They were here in one instant, but the
next, within the blink of an eye, they were gone. It all happened so
fast; it was surreal and unthinkable and unimaginable.

I asked where they went, but nobody responded.

"No one knows." They told me.

I asked why they went, but they didn't respond.

"No one knows." They said. "Forget about them."

But I wasn't giving up.

I searched the world, scouring over all the continents and vast oceans.
Perhaps they have only migrated somewhere else in search of food -
cranes do migrate don't they? Equipped with binoculars, an Audobon field
guide, hiking gear, a camera, a sketchbook, ample funds, and water, I
began my arduous search. I traveled in Europe. I backpacked through
Russia. I rode through the Savannah.

But everywhere I looked, they all told me the same thing.

"I'm sorry. There are no cranes here."

The languages were different and the accents varied, but they all had
the same mournful look on their faces. But the sadness was also mixed
with a kind of tired acceptance of the situation.

"One year." An older man with a graying beard told me with broken
English somewhere in Latvia. "No cranes here during one year."

I thanked him, and continued along my journey.

"You won't find cranes." They laughed at me, shaking their heads as I traveled past.

But I continued on. Because I needed to. Because I wanted to. Because I could.

When I got back, I was tired. I was hungry. I was exhausted. But with
all the walking and hiking and physical exercise, I was also stronger -
so much stronger than when I first began my search. And I knew I would
only get stronger still as my journey continues. It will continue as
long as I want it to. Because I can. Because I AM strong.

"Were you able to find the cranes?" I was asked many times by
inquisitive minds who took the time to pull me aside and whisper in hushed curious tones.

"Yes." I grinned back, unable to suppress the smile spreading across my
face, outshining the months of dust and dirt and stress.

"You saw the cranes?" They would question, suspicious but hopeful.

"Well, no, I didn't see them exactly." I would admit.

"Then…" They would ponder aloud. "How do you know there are still cranes left in this world?"

"Little signs." I would answer, the radiant smile returning to my face.

"You're crazy." They would scoff, and walk away with a dismissive wave,
giggling and muttering among themselves at my supposed foolishness.

But I knew better; I know the truth.

Because I saw tracks in the mud.

Because I saw nests atop trees and on faded red brick roofs. And those nests had speckled eggs.

Because I have white and red crane feathers in my back pocket - they are with me always.

But most importantly, because I have my unshakable faith.

There are signs for those who look for them.

And I believe.

The cranes are out there somewhere. And wherever they are, they are
flying and singing and dancing under the warm sun and beautiful moon.
And when they return, I will join them.

Great Minds

Stacey Baird, a member of the Class of 2006, delivered the student speech at Smith College’s
128th commencement ceremony on Sunday, May 21. Here is an excerpt: