Hatsy eventually became ill and died. Scheuer wanted the flock to be a threesome and went to buy another hen. The one she found at a neighbor's looked bedraggled. But Scheuer guessed she was being bullied by others in the flock and worried that she might die if she didn't get a new home. Scheuer named her Pigeon and tried to clean her and restore her confidence. Quickly, Pigeon adapted to her new surroundings and it soon became apparent that she was, by nature, a very happy bird. "Pigeon bubbled with enthusiasm and curiosity and questions," Scheuer wrote. "She adored Danny and Sarah and the FedEx guy and any friend or stranger who happened by. She sought adventure. Mystery and excitement lurked just about everywhere. The garden hose was always a thrill. One day she met a rabbit who tolerated her enthusiasm for several minutes. When there was nothing else to do, Pigeon ran. Every day for Pigeon was the best day ever."
Mark Sappenfield
Dear Reader,
About a year ago, I happened upon this statement about the Monitor in the Harvard Business Review – under the charming heading of “do things that don’t interest you”:
“Many things that end up” being meaningful, writes social scientist Joseph Grenny, “have come from conference workshops, articles, or online videos that began as a chore and ended with an insight. My work in Kenya, for example, was heavily influenced by a Christian Science Monitor article I had forced myself to read 10 years earlier. Sometimes, we call things ‘boring’ simply because they lie outside the box we are currently in.”
If you were to come up with a punchline to a joke about the Monitor, that would probably be it. We’re seen as being global, fair, insightful, and perhaps a bit too earnest. We’re the bran muffin of journalism.
But you know what? We change lives. And I’m going to argue that we change lives precisely because we force open that too-small box that most human beings think they live in.
The Monitor is a peculiar little publication that’s hard for the world to figure out. We’re run by a church, but we’re not only for church members and we’re not about converting people. We’re known as being fair even as the world becomes as polarized as at any time since the newspaper’s founding in 1908.
We have a mission beyond circulation, we want to bridge divides. We’re about kicking down the door of thought everywhere and saying, “You are bigger and more capable than you realize. And we can prove it.”
If you’re looking for bran muffin journalism, you can subscribe to the Monitor for $15. You’ll get the Monitor Weekly magazine, the Monitor Daily email, and unlimited access to CSMonitor.com.
