Amazed, maybe

In the spring, a man's fancy lightly turns to wordplay.

Jessica Coffin
Lilacs bloom in Central Park in New York City.

Suddenly it’s May, and May seems everywhere. Or it May seem everywhere to a man or a Mayd who May be aMayzed at the possibilities.

May one Mayke such an observation without being considered contuMaycious?

Please don’t say no, say Maybe, as the songwriter May have said long ago. Does everything have to be gerMayne to the unrest in the world?

Hearing no Mayjor objections, I Mayntain that no other month reMayns echoing so Mayjestically in the public ear, all the way from Mayne to RoMaynia. It is a month that leaves one undisMayed, if one May say so.

“But yes,” as Maurice Chevalier used to chuckle, translating his native “May oui” for Americans whose French stops with “Maytre d’,” though they May have sung “DorMay vous?” in school.

The aniMayted child interrupts: “Put in, ‘If April showers bring May flowers, what do May flowers bring? Pilgrims!’ ”

Not exactly a puzzle worthy of Simenon’s Inspector Maygret, but not bad when delivered by a small feMayle priMayte with an uneMayciated grin as wide as Maynland China.

Meanwhile, it’s not too early to be thinking about June, which will soon be bustin’ out all over, recalled in a jeJune comment by a Juneior member of the household.

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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