Call us eccentric, but there we were.
Over 10,000 die-hard Cubs fans packed into a Chicago hotel on a recent freezing weekend not only to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the Cubs winning the World Series but also the150th year of the Cubs storied history.
And even though we were not at Wrigley Field, live organ music greeted us, the smell of popcorn surrounded us, and a sea of folks all dressed in a wild array of Cubs paraphernalia smiled joyously to be back together again.
Many families like ours have been coming for years, but there were a host of newcomers as well. I know this because the main activities of the Cubs Convention involve standing in line for hours on end with hundreds of other folks to get a player’s autograph, crowding into an overflowing ballroom to hear a bevy of speakers, or waiting en masse to catch an elevator.
Although these autograph sessions and crowds are not for the fainthearted, their beauty lies in the diversity of those gathered, providing an opportunity to know the neighbor next to you. And what I witnessed over and over again from strangers of all walks of life- the young, old, disabled, rich, poor, and famous-was an offering of abundant grace to one another.
For your neighbor saved your place in line, your neighbor gave you their extra world series book, your neighbor held the elevator for you, your neighbor shared their food. Despite all those close quarters, there was no shoving, pushing, meanness, or name calling to be witnessed.
Instead, loving our neighbors as ourselves was in constant action, a strong reminder of what our nation can and should be.
I’m Marnie O. Mamminga and that’s my perspective.
