Hippo Tales on Amazon / Kindle and Apple devices

Hippopotamus stories are in Japanese, English, and Arabic on YouTube. The hardcopy stories in Japanese, Chinese, English and Arabic are now out of print. However, some stories are now available on Apple devices and Amazon/Kindle (ebook). -- Apple devices: for those with Apple iphones, iPads, MacBook laptops, use the link below or go to Apple"Books" on Apple devices. You can upload "Books" app on iPhones. Type in "Hippo Tales"or "Joseph Ozawa." There is no charge. https://books.apple.com/us/book/hippo-tales/id6670228390 -- Amazon / Kindle e-book (cost, $2.99 USD). Go to Amazon.com. Type in "Hippo Tales: a memoir of the Hippo Postman" Follow these steps to make a purchase https://a.co/d/7JGBWWN After payment is made, there'll be instructions on choosing the option for ebook to be read. Chose Kindle. Download Kindle app to your mobile (IOS or Android) to read the ebook.

PANDEMIC

      I haven’t written a new hippopostman story in over 15 years.  “Why not?” people have asked me.  “I don’t know.  Just not inspired,” I have replied…. Until today.

     Today did not start out well.  Global pandemic.  Millions of people across the world are infected with “coronavirus” and over 200,000 people have died.  After a while, the numbers don’t seem to mean much.  But lots of suffering.  So on our walk today and with friends on the phone, I heard stories of people in mourning, also angry, angry people who want life to “go back to normal.”  They, like my wife and I, are tired of being “locked down” in our homes, unable to be with family or friends, unable to get a haircut, to shop, to go to school, to work, to travel on public transportation, to hug or even shake hands.  Misery all around.  Complaints.  Bad moods.

     So when I drove up to our house today, in my foul mood too, I saw two young boys (I am new to the neighborhood, but suspected these two blond boys about 7 and 9 were our neighbors).  They were pulling a wagon and appeared to be “skulking” or “sneaking” around.  They seemed to come from around my front door, but I couldn’t see as they suddenly scattered like pigeons in a park.  I waited in my car but they didn’t come back.  I was angry.

     Surely, they were up to mischief.  The children and youth in our part of town were so bored and often inconsiderate, rarely observing “social distancing,” sneaking down to the creek to maybe capture a few frogs, and racing their bicycles everywhere, almost knocking us older folks down without so much as an apology.  Most of all, I remembered my childhood at that age when I and my best friend and cousin, Daniel, used to sneak around the neighborhood  --   hiding, finding secret hiding places, stealing flowers or fruits or vegetables and even worse, breaking windows or setting fires for fun.   Daredevil stuff. 

     So I walked around, waiting to nab those two boys, seeing myself violating social distancing by grabbing them by the collars and scolding them, “Where are your parents?  Do they know what you are up to?”  But I couldn’t find them.  So I returned home to look around so I could find the damage or mischief they had obviously caused.

     Then I saw something on my front doorstep.

Here is the plant:

"What was that?  I picked up the pot, at

first assuming it must have been a joke, or

at worse, some sort of bomb or childish

prank.  Maybe it would explode and cover me with red dye or something else awful?

So slowly, I picked it up and placed it in my backyard.  It seemed to be a plant?  

Then I saw the piece of paper taped to the plastic pot.

And here is what the note said:

“Please enjoy this succulent from our garden during 

this difficult time. 

Be safe.

Cameron and Connor Buggs”

My heart began pounding and I felt like crying but of course, I didn’t.  I raced out to the street and saw one of the blond boys running.

“Hey, hey!” I yelled.

The boy turned suddenly and looked sheepish.  He stared at the ground.

“Hey are you Cameron?” I asked loudly (maintaining social distancing of 6 feet).

“Uh, yup,” he said, looking like a child waiting to be scolded.  Boy, I remembered that feeling of being caught “red handed” by an adult after committing some childish crime.

“Well, Cameron, you tell your brother Conner, that I have just two words to say to you boys…..”

He looked even more frightened.

“Thank you!”

It is approaching Thanksgiving, 2019 and a new film has been released: "WON'T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR...." 

Another often repeated phrase by Fred Rogers is, "YOU ARE SPECIAL!"  

Despite the fact that Fred Rogers is an ordained Presbyterian minister, reads the Bible each day for devotionals, and prays daily for all those he perceives are in need, this movie is not "preachy" nor heavily explicitly Christian.  Rather, it reflects the life of a humble person (who later became an ikon), someone who cares for the least lovable, and who truly treats each person as "special."  In that way, Mr. Rogers reflects the very nature of Jesus himself.

See the movie if it comes nearby.

THE HIPPO STORIES ON YOUTUBE IN JAPANESE:

the hippo stories are in Japanese on YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFYt988F38I&list=PLXmsI4VW25EawY2gJV_WFLZIVnyw2bel or paste into URL:

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXmsI4VW25EawY2gJV_WFLZIVnyw2belM

The original hippo stories on television was with Harvest Time in Japan (Nakagawa Kenichi).  The 6 original stories went out to approximately 7 million viewers.  This was from Shizuoka, Japan (at the base of Mount Fuji), my ancestral homeland.  The drawing is by one of the manga artists who, without knowing me, said, "You are from a samurai family."  Turns out she was correct.  (smile)

With Harvest Time and host, Nakagawa, Kenichi in Shizuoka, Japan.

Manga artist's conception of my identity.  Shizuoka prefecture, Japan, at base of Mount Fuji.

It has also been published in English, Chinese, Dutch Afrikaans, and Arabic.  The links are in this blog.

In addition, I was able to tell about the hippo stories on Canadian television.

Canadian television series on hippo stories and other matters including Borneo revival.

The hippo continues to go forth!

Asian Rural Institute

Asian Rural Institute (ARI) trains rural farmers, often First Nations peoples, to do sustainable, organic farming and community development.  Living in the "love of Jesus," and teaching "servant leadership," the motto of ARI is, "That we might live together!"

The participants, usually from over 20 nations, live together for 9 months  --  planting crops, raising livestock, tending the plants, harvesting, cooking together  --  then eating, living, working together.  People from many nations, cultures, races, religions, ages, genders, and life experiences.  

Another theme is "peacemaking and reconciliation" as so many come from countries which are torn by civil wars and ethnic and religious conflicts.

Children of Golden Hill

Many years ago, I and some friends began an unusual "church" made up mostly of children who were wandering around the streets of an area known as "Golden Hill" in San Diego.  Lots of drugs, crime, violence, broken families, and homelessness.  Yet these were beautiful children.... forever imprinted on my heart. 

Pentecost in Russia

I will be posting some photos I've found in boxes in my garage.  Treasures, to me.

This is a photo of Pentecost, 2014, in a small town in Southern Russia (after the fall of the iron curtain).  I was praying for some villagers and as they knew it was Pentecost, they all asked for me to pray for them to "receive the power of the Holy Spirit"!  Indeed, God graciously granted their wish and we prayed almost all night.  They then went home and prayed for their family members to receive the Holy Spirit.  What a joy these Russians were!!!

Who are the Syrian refugees?

With all the publicity given to the thousands if not millions of refugees in the Middle East, the question is, "Who are they?"

photo by:  Souleima Chreim

The refugees are not just numbers.  Each one has a name and story to be told, often stories of great suffering yet of courage, endurance, and love.  Despite broken hearts, the loss of beloved family members, each refugee I met cared deeply.  In the midst of confusion and turmoil, each person, man, woman and child, loved and even managed to smile at times.  What a joy to be with them as they gave me more than I was ever able to give them.

THE MAN AND HIS LOVE:

I just met a man in Lebanon and spent time with him.  Each day, he walks along the streets of the poor areas of Beirut, just meeting with people, no matter what their religion or background, giving, sharing, talking.  He loves them greatly.  There is so much in the media about the plight of Syrian refugees but little about the people who love them.  The man often says, "Sorry, I don't know if I can pay your hospital bills or provide rent money, but I will try to get you some food for the children... the best I can."  And he does, person by person, child by child.  A man of love on the streets.

Library Link:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLl7OKekCSuEW97DSTaLi8rDsD9bCEC4Rx

THE HIPPO HAS MADE IT TO THE MIDDLE EAST!    The book is out of print, but now the hippo stories (10 of them) are on YouTube.  See the "Library Link" above.  With all the turmoil, rage, fear, violence, and unforgiveness in the region, the Middle Eastern people are also people of great love, sacrifice, hospitality and kindness.  The hippo loves them a lot!  

So, enjoy the YouTube and send links to your friends if you feel led to do so!

Blessings,

Dr. Hippo

Pathways on the Journey of Life

story, "The Odd Angel"

available on YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p2Qkcyuyi8A

PATHWAYS ON THE JOURNEY OF LIFE

As I say in my introduction, life is a journey.  We walk along a pathway, whether we decide to or not.  We are headed "home."  For those of us who are Christians, "home" is ultimately heaven, where God, our Father, awaits us with open, loving arms. 

Life's pathways are sometimes long, sometimes short, often rocky and steep and at other times, downhill or smooth.  Sometimes we coast along effortlessly and at other times, it is a struggle which seems beyond our capacity.  Can we go on? 

And often we think we know where we're going but life surprises us and suddenly we are heading in new directions.

Most of all, we meet people along life's journey.  Inevitably.  People we like, even love.  People we don't like.  Rich and poor people.  (the story above, "The Odd Angel" is about a homeless man I met).  Smart and not so smart.  Strangers and family.  Some who need help.  Others who help us.

The most important question is how we respond to those we meet along the pathways of life. 

And that is what the life of Jesus was all about.  Instead of avoiding or rejecting them, he had a special love for the poor, the hurting, the rejects, the outcasts.  He went out of his way to touch them and heal them  --  sharing his life, food, and time with them.  He died for them, even for his enemies and those who persecuted and even murdered him.

Jesus showed us true love along the pathways on his journey of life. 

Recent pictures along my life's journey follow.