A prayer of thanks...

Another day back at home working.... Way more productive!

I promised to take a photo of the ephemeral poem by Darby Hudson that I found scrunched up beside the footpath a few days after I spotted it on a telegraph pole... here it is - most it anyway.

I've also taken the opportunity to post one of the only prayers I've ever really "taken to".  The prayer does not promise me or anyone else anything special, no favours, no punishments - just a simple plea to help me acknowledge (silently perhaps), listen to and help those around me (and in my case I also try to extend this to those who annoy the crap out of me).

The poem came from an exercise book given to my son in school a few years ago.  In New South Wales schools, one period per week is given to Special Religious Education (SRE).  I believe it's actually enshrined in an act of parliament.  Whatever it is, it's hard for schools to get out of, I know that much.

Debate flares up every few years as... well, not everyone wants their kids to be instructed by people who are, effectively, strangers.  There is some vetting of who provides the instruction, but this is pretty simply that they are authorised representatives of approved religions.  On the face it this is not bad.  But some religions are pretty unstructured - in my never humble opinion.  At the time this prayer came my way, the only religion at my son's school that prescribed the format of instruction (ie. set a text) was the Catholic Church in Australia.  This is from that text.

In most schools that the only alternative to "SRE" is "sit in the library and read" and that's the bit that really gets up people's noses - school's are not allowed to provide any other sort of instruction or lesson (religious or otherwise).

The one alternative offered in years 5 and 6 only (for some years now) is Special education in ethics (SEE).  It also has a prescribed text but, like anything where humans (and our free wills) are concerned (which of course includes any religion) opinions are given and thoughts are directed.

Vexatious to put it mildly!