I am truly humbled and honored to have the opportunity to be a part of Meadowlark Hills.
"Big Why" Fall Lecture Series: Enriching Our Lives by Facing Some of Life & Our Community's Big Questions
October 3, 2025
Blog
by Noel Stanton
1956. My generous parents gave me a 12-foot rowboat for high school graduation. It was a Penn Yann Cartop, a beautiful, somewhat fragile-looking craft with delicate ribs and thin planking of varnished cedar covered by sea-green watertight canvas. Three seats, two sets of oarlocks; weight without oars only 60 pounds.
Each child inherits
A lifetime of rich learning.
Life goes as do we.
— NJB
Speech and language disorders are common in adults. Some people have difficulties understanding language, whereas other people have trouble expressing themselves. Some people have difficulties with both. Be a good communication partner!
To help someone understand you better, do the following:
Flowers speak to us,
With many colors and scents.
But they say much more.
NJB
“You make a gift. We make it grow.”
These two sentences, long associated with Grow Green Match Day, could have special meaning for Meadowlark Foundation’s Match Day donors. Not only do Grow Green contributions grow in value because of a 50% match, but also Grow Green donations “grow” opportunities for Meadowlark employees and “grow” the pool of talented nurses who care for Meadowlark residents.
Most of us are aware of the notion that a pebble dropped into the ocean will, via a cascade of interconnected mechanisms, eventually affect the entire ocean. Sounds far-fetched, but the idea holds more truth than most people wish to accept.
Reacting to feedback from previous guests and with a yearly desire to entertain, engage, and evoke, the Art Mingle committee planned the early March event with several additions to prior fundraisers. If feedback from guests is any indication, these changes were for the better, as they figuratively and literally elevated Art Mingle: Hidden Gems to benefit Meadowlark Memory Program.
In 1980, my friend, Jim, and I decided to hike in the Uinta Mountains of Utah. Stuart Johnson, another good friend from the Geothermal Branch of Philips Petroleum said if we wanted to find good fishing, we should hike to Cliff Lake, just to the north of Kings Peak. He said very few people managed to get there. So, we made plans.
After a week’s visit with my brother and his wife in New Mexico, we were heading back to Kansas. Our plan was to go as far as Liberal, spend the night and on to Manhattan, our home, the next day. We noted snow on the sides of the roads east of Albuquerque but soon ran into a dry area. Clear sailing!
This was before cellphones and a GPS in your car, so I kept an open map on my lap. About 4 in the afternoon, I looked at the map and said to my husband, “Looks like we’re about an hour out of Liberal.” I looked up and noticed big, white flakes floating from the sky.
How long has it been since you’ve experienced a moment of genuine healthful silence, a time during which you were profoundly, silently, reverently alone with yourself, or with Nature, or with another (your soulmate, perhaps), or with your God? Such rich moments are possible when you are watching, watching beyond motive, beyond any demand—just watching. When you see the beauty of a lone tree in the field, a single star in the void, when you watch your soulmate, or your internal self—or speak to your god—silence is something that comes naturally.