This year is rapidly drawing to a close. Thought today might be a good day to look back into the past and reflect on childhood memories of the days between Christmas and New Year's Day.
First of all, because my Mother, Grandma and favorite aunts were all FANTASTIC cake and cookie bakers, I will have to confess that during this week after Christmas I was absolutely sated after consuming the variety of "goodies" which had been available all during the holidays. Aunt Rheumell's fresh coconut cake, Aunt Edith's chocolate chips, Mom's gingersnap cookies, and Grandma's applesauce cake vied for "favorite" during the season, but if forced to choose the one I'd hate most to do without, I'd have to say "THE GINGERSNAP COOKIES". Even today, there is still something about smelling the aroma of gingersnaps cooking in the oven that evokes waves of nostalgia.
Out of school for the holidays, there was lots of time to play with cousins who lived nearby....and we did so every day. New toys were shared, new clothes were modeled, and nothing was more enjoyed than spending time at Grandma's with all the cousins....those who lived nearby, as well as those "town cousins" who joined us in the country for Christmas. Our grandfather was not so busy during this season, and we loved it when he'd take us for long excursions in the woods, regaling us with tales of his childhood....causing us to appreciate even more all the goodies and toys which we had received that year! Looking back now, those days would be considered dull by the present generation. But, in reflection, I can see just how much we were blessed by the time and attention shared by our grandparents. "Fun" was "homemade".....those impromptu walks in the woods, creativity encouraged by the writing and presentation of "skits" demonstrating something that had impressed one of us during the year. No television blaring....no addictive computer games....no trips to "the mall" to parade up and down with our friends. Just lots of love and laughter and family bonding as we explored and discovered how wise the older generation truly was.
I really can't remember ever being "bored" during the holidays. Something was always available to do. In addition to our daily chores, we were encouraged to look for ways to bless other members of the family by performing small gestures of kindness that were totally unexpected. Small things....such as clearing the table after a meal (without being told to "help our Mother"). And I'll never forget the year when my Mom brought out the box of scrap fabrics and announced that it was time I learned to cut quilt squares. Cutting the squares and laying them out into various patterns to design a quilt top was creativity at its MAX as far as I was concerned! I could already imagine the many nights during the winter months when I'd sit before the open fire, sewing those squarss into one big quilt top.
Because our house was heated with wood, there was always need to "bring in an armful of wood" to keep the kitchen stove and the open fireplace in the living room ablaze. There is nothing at all more relaxing than lying in front of an open fire, listening to "grownups" discussing world affairs, or, on rare occasions, listening to the radio. Many nights, I'd be awakened as my Dad gently lifted me up from the floor where I had fallen asleep before the fire.
Sound boring? To the average child today, I'm certain it does. But, I cannot help but think the current generation is being cheated! All the memories they will have to draw from are the "hurry, scurry, hustle, bustle" of constant activity during the holidays. I wish it were within my power to take each of my beloved grandchildren back into the past, when "things" were totally unimportant in comparison to the "times" spent with family.
As we say goodby to 2008, let's welcome the New Year with the mindset of the past, and commit ourselves to "being" rather than "doing" during the year to come.
God has the perfect year prepared for us.....let's forget our agenda and follow His!
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
CHRIST, THE SAVIOR, IS BORN!
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them a light has shined.
You have multiplied the nation;
you have increased its joy;
they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest,
as they are glad when they divide the spoil.
. . . . .
For to us a child is born
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor,
Mighty God,
Everlasting Father,
Prince of Peace.
Isaiah 9:2-3, 6
AND HE'S COMING AGAIN.....
ARE YOU READY?
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them a light has shined.
You have multiplied the nation;
you have increased its joy;
they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest,
as they are glad when they divide the spoil.
. . . . .
For to us a child is born
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor,
Mighty God,
Everlasting Father,
Prince of Peace.
Isaiah 9:2-3, 6
AND HE'S COMING AGAIN.....
ARE YOU READY?
Friday, December 19, 2008
PRESENTS OR PRESENCE
When I was a child, the week before Christmas was very exciting. Our house was decorated beautifully, and we spent time with family and friends. On Christmas Eve, I can remember being so anxious for Santa to come and bring gifts.
Bedtime would come, and my parents would tell us that we had better go to bed so that Santa could visit or else we would not have a Christmas. We would hurry to bed but try to stay awake to hear something so that we could catch a glimpse of this jolly old man, who somehow managed to keep all the children of the world’s addresses and requests in order and make his entire trip in one night.
Of course, we always fell fast asleep so we never did see anything or anyone. All we knew was that when we went to bed there was nothing under the tree, and when we woke up there were beautifully wrapped presents everywhere! What fun we had opening them! We squealed with delight as we got things that we had put in our letter to Santa.
As the years went by, we obviously found Santa to be a figment of our imagination but still found the holiday season to be delightful. Instead of waiting for Christmas morning, we began a tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve. We waited all day in anticipation of that moment. The excitement made me queasy every year for as long as I can remember.
As my siblings and I got married and had children, we found great joy in the thought that "Christmas is for kids." We never forgot to give honor and reverence to Jesus Christ, but our joy came from the children’s response to the gifts.
Something changed when Dad died, and then my husband and I were divorced. I still made trips back "home" at Christmas and though it was a two-hour drive, it seemed that my focus changed from Christmas presents to being in the presence of those who I loved. I look back on my Christmas travels, and they were very special times. My daughter and her husband joined us on Christmas morning for "breakfast at Granny's" and we gave gifts that were tokens of our love but the focus had shifted once again when my daughter married and established her own home. Spending time with loved ones and celebrating the birth of Jesus was a priceless present to me.
Then several years ago, as my grandchildren began to come along, I realized how travel with children during the holidays could be such a strain on a family, so I insisted that they establish their own Christmas traditions, and I would join them at their home on Christmas Day. So, I would continue to go "home" for Christmas with my Mom, and after "brunch" with my brothers on Christmas morning would make the drive back to Raleigh for Christmas with my children and grandchildren. Then three years ago, on Christmas Day, in the Kate B. Reynolds Hospice home in Winston-Salem, my beloved Mom went home to be with Jesus.
I no longer feel the anticipation that I once felt about the holidays. To be honest what I have felt recently has been pressure and some discouragement, as I cannot do many of the things I once did—things that I thought made Christmas special. The focus now stopped being about presents and instead about "presence"…people’s presence in our lives and our presence in theirs. Above all else, it has come down to sensing a Christmas "Presence" of peace and love that can only come from Jesus.
It isn’t necessary any more to make a Christmas list, because the things I desire cannot be purchased with money. I am content with what I have, and the only thing that I desire is that sense of wonder and awe I felt as a child—not for Santa—but for My Heavenly Father. When you think about it, in some ways He parallels Santa. He knows all of His children by name. He knows the desires of our hearts and has the ability to visit each of us simultaneously. He does not leave gifts that are perishable but if we will look for Him, He will leave something that is priceless…His Presence in our midst.
There is nothing else I need for my life. Things no longer make me happy, and let’s face it, we cannot look to people for a sense of joy. But His Presence during this holiday season is something that we are all in need of and deeply longing for.
You might ask why God’s Presence is so important to me. Well, the Bible says that in His Presence is fullness of joy, in His Presence there is rest, and in His Presence is peace of mind, hope, and renewal. Most of all, in His Presence is a love deeper than even the deep love of family and friends.
Perhaps you feel the same way today. You may be weary, worn and even hurting deep inside. The pile of presents are there in front of you, but you find no joy, peace, hope, or love. What you need is to take your eyes off those presents, and instead put your eyes on God’s Presence—which He has promised to you even now. He will not withhold any good thing from you…and having His Presence in your life is the best gift you will ever receive.
Bedtime would come, and my parents would tell us that we had better go to bed so that Santa could visit or else we would not have a Christmas. We would hurry to bed but try to stay awake to hear something so that we could catch a glimpse of this jolly old man, who somehow managed to keep all the children of the world’s addresses and requests in order and make his entire trip in one night.
Of course, we always fell fast asleep so we never did see anything or anyone. All we knew was that when we went to bed there was nothing under the tree, and when we woke up there were beautifully wrapped presents everywhere! What fun we had opening them! We squealed with delight as we got things that we had put in our letter to Santa.
As the years went by, we obviously found Santa to be a figment of our imagination but still found the holiday season to be delightful. Instead of waiting for Christmas morning, we began a tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve. We waited all day in anticipation of that moment. The excitement made me queasy every year for as long as I can remember.
As my siblings and I got married and had children, we found great joy in the thought that "Christmas is for kids." We never forgot to give honor and reverence to Jesus Christ, but our joy came from the children’s response to the gifts.
Something changed when Dad died, and then my husband and I were divorced. I still made trips back "home" at Christmas and though it was a two-hour drive, it seemed that my focus changed from Christmas presents to being in the presence of those who I loved. I look back on my Christmas travels, and they were very special times. My daughter and her husband joined us on Christmas morning for "breakfast at Granny's" and we gave gifts that were tokens of our love but the focus had shifted once again when my daughter married and established her own home. Spending time with loved ones and celebrating the birth of Jesus was a priceless present to me.
Then several years ago, as my grandchildren began to come along, I realized how travel with children during the holidays could be such a strain on a family, so I insisted that they establish their own Christmas traditions, and I would join them at their home on Christmas Day. So, I would continue to go "home" for Christmas with my Mom, and after "brunch" with my brothers on Christmas morning would make the drive back to Raleigh for Christmas with my children and grandchildren. Then three years ago, on Christmas Day, in the Kate B. Reynolds Hospice home in Winston-Salem, my beloved Mom went home to be with Jesus.
I no longer feel the anticipation that I once felt about the holidays. To be honest what I have felt recently has been pressure and some discouragement, as I cannot do many of the things I once did—things that I thought made Christmas special. The focus now stopped being about presents and instead about "presence"…people’s presence in our lives and our presence in theirs. Above all else, it has come down to sensing a Christmas "Presence" of peace and love that can only come from Jesus.
It isn’t necessary any more to make a Christmas list, because the things I desire cannot be purchased with money. I am content with what I have, and the only thing that I desire is that sense of wonder and awe I felt as a child—not for Santa—but for My Heavenly Father. When you think about it, in some ways He parallels Santa. He knows all of His children by name. He knows the desires of our hearts and has the ability to visit each of us simultaneously. He does not leave gifts that are perishable but if we will look for Him, He will leave something that is priceless…His Presence in our midst.
There is nothing else I need for my life. Things no longer make me happy, and let’s face it, we cannot look to people for a sense of joy. But His Presence during this holiday season is something that we are all in need of and deeply longing for.
You might ask why God’s Presence is so important to me. Well, the Bible says that in His Presence is fullness of joy, in His Presence there is rest, and in His Presence is peace of mind, hope, and renewal. Most of all, in His Presence is a love deeper than even the deep love of family and friends.
Perhaps you feel the same way today. You may be weary, worn and even hurting deep inside. The pile of presents are there in front of you, but you find no joy, peace, hope, or love. What you need is to take your eyes off those presents, and instead put your eyes on God’s Presence—which He has promised to you even now. He will not withhold any good thing from you…and having His Presence in your life is the best gift you will ever receive.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
IF ONLY IN MY DREAMS
I'll be home for Christmas, again, this year but not entirely. There is an old Gospel song I used to enjoy quite a bit and one of the lines reads like this. "This world is not my home, I'm just a passin' through." The song goes on to say "my treasures are laid up, somewhere beyond the blue." I guess what woke me up in the middle of the night weeping was the thought this song suggests: I'm just not at home in this world anymore!
I had one of the nicest, and yet, strangest dreams about Christmas. It, of course, revolved around family and having them over to the house, and since it was a dream, all my parents and friends were there. I must say it was wonderful. We laughed and told jokes, ate and laughed some more. In the background was the old classic song playing, "I'll be home for Christmas." The only thing was, the song always stopped before the last line, "if only in my dreams." Now I am not here to do any sort of dream analysis, dreams are dreams. This one, though, gave me thoughts of what a Christmas might look like in Heaven, maybe! I mean really, My Mom and Dad were there with my daughter and her family, my siblings and their families and all the aunts, uncles and cousins and grandparents all around me and we were celebrating with Christ, Christmas.
Then as dreams sometimes do, this one took a hard turn that woke me up. We all walked to the door to go outside, and one by one, as all my loved ones, already dead, walked out the door, they were gone. All I was left with was a soggy pillow and the memories of sweet times in the past and of times to come.
I pray that you will enjoy this Christmas with whatever family you have left here on earth. The old song is right, this world is not our home, we are all just passin' through. As for me, I do have treasures laid up, somewhere beyond the blue, family and friends. I also have them here to enjoy and I plan to be HOME for Christmas and not only in my dreams. Remember that because of Christ, we can celebrate Christmas.
I had one of the nicest, and yet, strangest dreams about Christmas. It, of course, revolved around family and having them over to the house, and since it was a dream, all my parents and friends were there. I must say it was wonderful. We laughed and told jokes, ate and laughed some more. In the background was the old classic song playing, "I'll be home for Christmas." The only thing was, the song always stopped before the last line, "if only in my dreams." Now I am not here to do any sort of dream analysis, dreams are dreams. This one, though, gave me thoughts of what a Christmas might look like in Heaven, maybe! I mean really, My Mom and Dad were there with my daughter and her family, my siblings and their families and all the aunts, uncles and cousins and grandparents all around me and we were celebrating with Christ, Christmas.
Then as dreams sometimes do, this one took a hard turn that woke me up. We all walked to the door to go outside, and one by one, as all my loved ones, already dead, walked out the door, they were gone. All I was left with was a soggy pillow and the memories of sweet times in the past and of times to come.
I pray that you will enjoy this Christmas with whatever family you have left here on earth. The old song is right, this world is not our home, we are all just passin' through. As for me, I do have treasures laid up, somewhere beyond the blue, family and friends. I also have them here to enjoy and I plan to be HOME for Christmas and not only in my dreams. Remember that because of Christ, we can celebrate Christmas.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
MEMORIES......
"They can't take that away from me."
We are living in increasingly difficult days. The current recession has everyone wondering if we'll ever recover from this period of financial loss. I, like everyone else, am feeling the effects of higher prices at the grocery stores....and am rethinking my Christmas giving this year. It seems like a sin to spend money on "things" to give to others, when those things are usually not what the recipient would have chosen, doesn't need, but doesn't want to hurt your feelings by not using/wearing the gift!
Thinking back over past years, I can remember "leaner" days when we had far less than we have today. I can remember the hours and days spent making gifts for those near and dear to me....a frilly party apron for Mom, a cross-stitched pillow case for Grandma, robes and knitted slippers for the kids, jars of home-canned jellies, pickles and relishes for those brothers who always looked forward to receiving them, homemade cookies for those precious neighbors. "Little" things by today's standards, but gifts from the heart, made with love, and bathed in prayer for the person for whom they were being made!
As I look back, I recall the greatest gift of all....the reason we celebrate Christmas....the birth of our Lord and Saviour. Somehow I think that He would tell us that the most valuable gift we can give this Christmas season is TIME. Perhaps, no doubt, it is because as I have aged (75 years old this year!), I have mellowed and reflect on how much visits, phone calls, and cards from friends mean to me. I received my first 2008 Christmas card yesterday from dear friends who live in Vermont. They were the first people we met when we moved to Raleigh in 1956 and we spent many hours working, playing and worshiping together. Although they left the area almost 20 years ago, it's a joy to hear all about what's been happening in their lives for the past year.
Although I DO MISS spending time with extended family during the holidays, I know that our hearts are attuned to the meaning of the holiday. And we can all look forward to future days when the pain of arthritis, fibromyalgia, diabetic neuropathy, and dimming eyesight won't prevent us from celebrating TOGETHER again, for we will have new bodies, and will be in the presence of our Lord and Saviour Jesus.
So, for those of you who are reading this who think that you really have nothing to celebrate this year, I admonish you to "turn your eyes upon Jesus", bow down and confess your sin and ask forgiveness. I guarantee that if you do that you can look forward to Christmas with the knowledge that "THE BEST IS YET TO BE"!
We are living in increasingly difficult days. The current recession has everyone wondering if we'll ever recover from this period of financial loss. I, like everyone else, am feeling the effects of higher prices at the grocery stores....and am rethinking my Christmas giving this year. It seems like a sin to spend money on "things" to give to others, when those things are usually not what the recipient would have chosen, doesn't need, but doesn't want to hurt your feelings by not using/wearing the gift!
Thinking back over past years, I can remember "leaner" days when we had far less than we have today. I can remember the hours and days spent making gifts for those near and dear to me....a frilly party apron for Mom, a cross-stitched pillow case for Grandma, robes and knitted slippers for the kids, jars of home-canned jellies, pickles and relishes for those brothers who always looked forward to receiving them, homemade cookies for those precious neighbors. "Little" things by today's standards, but gifts from the heart, made with love, and bathed in prayer for the person for whom they were being made!
As I look back, I recall the greatest gift of all....the reason we celebrate Christmas....the birth of our Lord and Saviour. Somehow I think that He would tell us that the most valuable gift we can give this Christmas season is TIME. Perhaps, no doubt, it is because as I have aged (75 years old this year!), I have mellowed and reflect on how much visits, phone calls, and cards from friends mean to me. I received my first 2008 Christmas card yesterday from dear friends who live in Vermont. They were the first people we met when we moved to Raleigh in 1956 and we spent many hours working, playing and worshiping together. Although they left the area almost 20 years ago, it's a joy to hear all about what's been happening in their lives for the past year.
Although I DO MISS spending time with extended family during the holidays, I know that our hearts are attuned to the meaning of the holiday. And we can all look forward to future days when the pain of arthritis, fibromyalgia, diabetic neuropathy, and dimming eyesight won't prevent us from celebrating TOGETHER again, for we will have new bodies, and will be in the presence of our Lord and Saviour Jesus.
So, for those of you who are reading this who think that you really have nothing to celebrate this year, I admonish you to "turn your eyes upon Jesus", bow down and confess your sin and ask forgiveness. I guarantee that if you do that you can look forward to Christmas with the knowledge that "THE BEST IS YET TO BE"!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
WHAT AM I THANKFUL FOR?
What am I thankful for this year?
What blessings come to mind?
My dear friends and relations,
So loving and so kind.
Each time I see the sunrise,
And the beauties of the day,
The unexpected little joys,
I find along the way.
What am I thankful for this year?
The small and furry things,
The hope that keeps me going,
The peace believing brings.
I have so much to thank God for,
I don't know where to start,
I only know He walks with me,
And lives within my heart!
What blessings come to mind?
My dear friends and relations,
So loving and so kind.
Each time I see the sunrise,
And the beauties of the day,
The unexpected little joys,
I find along the way.
What am I thankful for this year?
The small and furry things,
The hope that keeps me going,
The peace believing brings.
I have so much to thank God for,
I don't know where to start,
I only know He walks with me,
And lives within my heart!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
MORE CHILDHOOD MEMORIES
Thinking back to childhood, I often ask myself: "Did we really do that?"
Here are a few more of those things I remember from "way back then"!
* Pouring over a Sears catalog to select that one "special something" I
wanted for Christmas. One year it was a pair of roller skates which seemed
rather ridiculous considering that we lived on a dirt road, and the only time
I could use them was when I visited cousins "in town". Thinking back, it
wasn't so ridiculous because we saw those cousins at least twice a
week..... I didn't get the skates, but I did get a "pretend" nurse's kit because
of my ambition at that time to become a nurse!
* No bathtub or shower every day....We took sponge baths during the week
and then came BATH NIGHT....Saturday night....in a galvanized washtub sitting
on the floor in the kitchen in front of the wood cookstove.
* The fun of the Church "Christmas Program" in which I participated every year
from age 3 until 15. The program contained poems, songs and portrayal of the birth of Jesus in a skit. I clearly remember singing a solo part in a group song "The Friendly Beast". I was "the dove from the rafter high who cooed Him to sleep, my mate and I". And I remember the big pine tree in the front left corner of the church sanctuary, decorated with "snow" made by whipping Lux soap flakes in water, and then coating the branches with the "foam" it produced. It dried looking like real snow on the branches. The only other decorations on the tree were colored paper ornaments made by the Sunday School children in the shape of bells, stars, trees and angels. After the Christmas program, each child received a present from his/her Sunday
School teacher, and a Christmas "treat" bag provided by the church for each child...which contained an apple, an orange, a peppermint stick, a pack of chewing gum, and several pieces of wrapped penny candy! Occasionally, we would get a BIG candy bar!
* My first (and only) train ride. My mother and I rode the train from our small
hometown of King to the city of Greensboro (about 40 miles away). I remember the red
velvet upholstery of the seats and a "Dolly Dimple" doll which accompanied me everywhere I went. We visited with mother's sister (Aunt Edith) and her family, and my grandfather came by car and picked us up to take us home the next day!
* Trekking to the woods with my daddy or older brother to find that "perfect
tree" to be decorated in our living room. I remember it was usually a beautifully formed small cedar tree, but I also remember how those branches scratched when the needles had dried.
* The delicious smells of Christmas....Mom baking in the kitchen... fresh yeast rolls. fresh coconut being ground for that mile-high cake, mincemeat pies, ginger snap coopies, cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and mixed in with all that the smell of the Christmas tree, and the burning wood in blazing fire in the fireplace.
* ALL of the family gathering at Grandma and Papa's house for a special meal
and exchanging "presents" with all the cousins. Papa would read the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke and Aunt Edith would play the piano as we all sang Christmas carols. Papa would fall asleep on the sofa in the midst of all the noise and all the kids would be amazed that he could sleep...snoring loudly....with his eyes wide open!
* Neighbors popping in at any hour of the day for a cup of wassail and a cookie, usually bringing a gift of homemade jelly or relish or plate of cookies for the family to enjoy.
* Making and sending home-made Christmas cards to friends who lived too far away to join us for Christmas.
* The difficulty of going back to school after the holidays were over.
Precious memories. These are the things money can't buy, but are the most treasured of my possessions. I am blessed.
More to come later....
Here are a few more of those things I remember from "way back then"!
* Pouring over a Sears catalog to select that one "special something" I
wanted for Christmas. One year it was a pair of roller skates which seemed
rather ridiculous considering that we lived on a dirt road, and the only time
I could use them was when I visited cousins "in town". Thinking back, it
wasn't so ridiculous because we saw those cousins at least twice a
week..... I didn't get the skates, but I did get a "pretend" nurse's kit because
of my ambition at that time to become a nurse!
* No bathtub or shower every day....We took sponge baths during the week
and then came BATH NIGHT....Saturday night....in a galvanized washtub sitting
on the floor in the kitchen in front of the wood cookstove.
* The fun of the Church "Christmas Program" in which I participated every year
from age 3 until 15. The program contained poems, songs and portrayal of the birth of Jesus in a skit. I clearly remember singing a solo part in a group song "The Friendly Beast". I was "the dove from the rafter high who cooed Him to sleep, my mate and I". And I remember the big pine tree in the front left corner of the church sanctuary, decorated with "snow" made by whipping Lux soap flakes in water, and then coating the branches with the "foam" it produced. It dried looking like real snow on the branches. The only other decorations on the tree were colored paper ornaments made by the Sunday School children in the shape of bells, stars, trees and angels. After the Christmas program, each child received a present from his/her Sunday
School teacher, and a Christmas "treat" bag provided by the church for each child...which contained an apple, an orange, a peppermint stick, a pack of chewing gum, and several pieces of wrapped penny candy! Occasionally, we would get a BIG candy bar!
* My first (and only) train ride. My mother and I rode the train from our small
hometown of King to the city of Greensboro (about 40 miles away). I remember the red
velvet upholstery of the seats and a "Dolly Dimple" doll which accompanied me everywhere I went. We visited with mother's sister (Aunt Edith) and her family, and my grandfather came by car and picked us up to take us home the next day!
* Trekking to the woods with my daddy or older brother to find that "perfect
tree" to be decorated in our living room. I remember it was usually a beautifully formed small cedar tree, but I also remember how those branches scratched when the needles had dried.
* The delicious smells of Christmas....Mom baking in the kitchen... fresh yeast rolls. fresh coconut being ground for that mile-high cake, mincemeat pies, ginger snap coopies, cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and mixed in with all that the smell of the Christmas tree, and the burning wood in blazing fire in the fireplace.
* ALL of the family gathering at Grandma and Papa's house for a special meal
and exchanging "presents" with all the cousins. Papa would read the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke and Aunt Edith would play the piano as we all sang Christmas carols. Papa would fall asleep on the sofa in the midst of all the noise and all the kids would be amazed that he could sleep...snoring loudly....with his eyes wide open!
* Neighbors popping in at any hour of the day for a cup of wassail and a cookie, usually bringing a gift of homemade jelly or relish or plate of cookies for the family to enjoy.
* Making and sending home-made Christmas cards to friends who lived too far away to join us for Christmas.
* The difficulty of going back to school after the holidays were over.
Precious memories. These are the things money can't buy, but are the most treasured of my possessions. I am blessed.
More to come later....
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
GROWING UP "POOR"
Born during the Great Depression, I had all that I NEEDED, but none of the "creature comforts" which children today consider their "right". But I had all the love that a Mom, Dad, Brother, and extended family of Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles and Cousins freely shared.
Grandma and Papa, as well as Aunt Rhumell and Uncle Johnny, lived within walking distance and it only took a matter of minutes to reach them (if Mama said it was okay to go). My cousin Barbara and I were slightly less than 2 years apart in age, and grew up to be very close....Our mothers were sisters and our fathers were brothers, so we were almost like sisters! We were playmates and played first at one house and then the other (preserved both mothers' nerves).
There were times, though, when Mama wouldn't let me go to Barbara's and Aunt Rhumell wouldn't let Barbara come to my house, but both mothers would let us play "at the top of the hill" where both of them could keep an eye on us!
Now, each of us had our own "playhouse" at our homes, but we also had one at the top of that hill! Let me correct the picture that may be forming in your mind of a literal "playhouse" with walls and a door and a roof overhead. That was not the case for us. Our playhouse was a cleared space in the underbrush, outlined with rocks, leaving open spaces to designate a doorway. Our furniture consisted of whatever we could find to improvise for beds, tables, chairs, etc. Usually, this would be rocks as the base, with a scrap board for a bed or tabletop, and smaller rocks as chairs. Our dishes were pieces of broken dishes, or occasionally, that white glass insert from the top of an old zinc lid for canning jars! I know that most of you, in your wildest imagination, cannot begin to know what I'm talking about.
The floors of our playhouse were dirt, and our "brooms" were bunches of twigs (with leaves) tied together, with which we kept our floors swept clean. Our "children" were assorted dolls each of us had received for birthdays or Christmas.
We always had transportation....each had her own tricycle (usually our "big" present at Christmas). We made many excursions to the "grocery store" and return with our make believe groceries to put in our make believe refrigerator. We were thrilled when our mothers gave us empty boxes or jars with labels which we could add to our "cabinets".
Sometimes we took excursions into "town" to shop for clothes....which we fashioned out of leaves, held together by their stems. Speaking of clothes, most of our real playclothes were fashioned from printed chicken feed sacks, lovingly sewn into articles of clothing by our mothers.
Easter was always special. We usually met with the extended family at Grandma's for a truly scrumptuous meal...and then the grownups hid the Easter eggs for us kids to find. I remember one Easter, which just happened to fall in late March that year, Uncle Elmo hid one of the eggs in a clump of bushes in the cow pasture, and we never did find that egg until all the snow melted a month or so later!
From the time I was about 4 years old I can remember learning Bible verses and joining with the other Sunday School kids in performing at Sunday School Conventions, quoting scripture and acting in little skits depicting the Bible stories we'd been learning.
And I'll never forget my first few days in school. Everyone carried their lunches at that time....there was no cafeteria, and no one had "hot" food. I remember crying some mornings as Mama packed my lunch because I had to take ham biscuits for lunch...and all my "town" friends had peanut butter and jelly! Even then, children didn't realize just how blessed they were.
I loved school from the very first day (even if I did have to eat ham biscuits!), and soaked up learning like a sponge. It just came easy for me....I suspect because I had parents who loved to read, and they read to me a lot! Some school memories will forever live in my memory. One of those is the day Miss Hutchens (my first grade teacher) was scolding those in the class who had not put their names on their papers the previous day. That day she said if anyone left their name off their paper that day she was going to spank them. At recess about ten of us got together and agreed to all leave our names off our papers that day, thinking she wouldn't spank so many of us. Boy, did we have a surprise coming. As we lined up to go outside for lunch, she spanked all ten of us!
Can you imagine that! Our teacher actually spanked us...and nobody screamed "child abuse".
And that was only the first spanking our disobedience earned us....we got spanked again by our parents when we got home. But, we learned early that misbehavior got us punished....and not just by being placed in "time out".
We were so fortunate to have parents who loved us with "tough" love, knowing that we must learn early to obey those in authority over us....even when they were wrong.
More to come.......
Grandma and Papa, as well as Aunt Rhumell and Uncle Johnny, lived within walking distance and it only took a matter of minutes to reach them (if Mama said it was okay to go). My cousin Barbara and I were slightly less than 2 years apart in age, and grew up to be very close....Our mothers were sisters and our fathers were brothers, so we were almost like sisters! We were playmates and played first at one house and then the other (preserved both mothers' nerves).
There were times, though, when Mama wouldn't let me go to Barbara's and Aunt Rhumell wouldn't let Barbara come to my house, but both mothers would let us play "at the top of the hill" where both of them could keep an eye on us!
Now, each of us had our own "playhouse" at our homes, but we also had one at the top of that hill! Let me correct the picture that may be forming in your mind of a literal "playhouse" with walls and a door and a roof overhead. That was not the case for us. Our playhouse was a cleared space in the underbrush, outlined with rocks, leaving open spaces to designate a doorway. Our furniture consisted of whatever we could find to improvise for beds, tables, chairs, etc. Usually, this would be rocks as the base, with a scrap board for a bed or tabletop, and smaller rocks as chairs. Our dishes were pieces of broken dishes, or occasionally, that white glass insert from the top of an old zinc lid for canning jars! I know that most of you, in your wildest imagination, cannot begin to know what I'm talking about.
The floors of our playhouse were dirt, and our "brooms" were bunches of twigs (with leaves) tied together, with which we kept our floors swept clean. Our "children" were assorted dolls each of us had received for birthdays or Christmas.
We always had transportation....each had her own tricycle (usually our "big" present at Christmas). We made many excursions to the "grocery store" and return with our make believe groceries to put in our make believe refrigerator. We were thrilled when our mothers gave us empty boxes or jars with labels which we could add to our "cabinets".
Sometimes we took excursions into "town" to shop for clothes....which we fashioned out of leaves, held together by their stems. Speaking of clothes, most of our real playclothes were fashioned from printed chicken feed sacks, lovingly sewn into articles of clothing by our mothers.
Easter was always special. We usually met with the extended family at Grandma's for a truly scrumptuous meal...and then the grownups hid the Easter eggs for us kids to find. I remember one Easter, which just happened to fall in late March that year, Uncle Elmo hid one of the eggs in a clump of bushes in the cow pasture, and we never did find that egg until all the snow melted a month or so later!
From the time I was about 4 years old I can remember learning Bible verses and joining with the other Sunday School kids in performing at Sunday School Conventions, quoting scripture and acting in little skits depicting the Bible stories we'd been learning.
And I'll never forget my first few days in school. Everyone carried their lunches at that time....there was no cafeteria, and no one had "hot" food. I remember crying some mornings as Mama packed my lunch because I had to take ham biscuits for lunch...and all my "town" friends had peanut butter and jelly! Even then, children didn't realize just how blessed they were.
I loved school from the very first day (even if I did have to eat ham biscuits!), and soaked up learning like a sponge. It just came easy for me....I suspect because I had parents who loved to read, and they read to me a lot! Some school memories will forever live in my memory. One of those is the day Miss Hutchens (my first grade teacher) was scolding those in the class who had not put their names on their papers the previous day. That day she said if anyone left their name off their paper that day she was going to spank them. At recess about ten of us got together and agreed to all leave our names off our papers that day, thinking she wouldn't spank so many of us. Boy, did we have a surprise coming. As we lined up to go outside for lunch, she spanked all ten of us!
Can you imagine that! Our teacher actually spanked us...and nobody screamed "child abuse".
And that was only the first spanking our disobedience earned us....we got spanked again by our parents when we got home. But, we learned early that misbehavior got us punished....and not just by being placed in "time out".
We were so fortunate to have parents who loved us with "tough" love, knowing that we must learn early to obey those in authority over us....even when they were wrong.
More to come.......
Friday, November 7, 2008
IN CHRIST THERE IS NO SKIN COLOR
I've been accused of being a racist, and being upset because a Black American was elected president. Well, I've never considered myself a racist, and have grown up and worked with black people all of my life.
Some of my most precious early memories are of a black man called "Smokey" who worked with my father on the farm. Back in "those days", you didn't just hope in the car and scoot over to pick up day labor. Dad would go over on Sunday night and pick Smokey up and bring him to the farm. He had a room of his own in a building behind the farmhouse, and spent most of his free time in his room...reading his Bible and praying, and doing beautiful hand carvings. He ate his meals with our family, but soon excused himself to go "home". Quite frequently, my absence from the house would be missed....Mom said she didn't have to wonder at all where I was. When she started looking, the first place she checked was Smokey's and there I'd be sitting on the bed listening to Smokey talk about his past, and sometimes reading from the Bible aloud to me!
Sometimes when Dad would go to pick Smokey up on Sunday night, he'd take the entire family with him, and we'd attend Smokey's Sunday night church service with him...the only white people in the congregation. I never once sensed any difference from them...other than the color of their skin. They loved Jesus, were good parents, and wonderful neighbors. It was only when we visited my Dad's sister "in town" that I noticed there was a difference in the attitude of black people toward us....and to this day, I don't think the difference was because of race or color, but because they did not know the God that our black friends in the country knew!
When I became pregnant with my daughter (and only child), I was working as an Administrative Assistant at North Carolina State College (it had not yet been given the title of "University"). My husband had graduated from N.C.State 3 years earlier in 1961. All the time he was a student, I was working full-time and typing manuscripts and theses to supplement his summer earnings to pay living and school expenses. I was blessed to be able to afford someone to come one day a week, clean and do laundry for me. This precious woman was black and became a second mother to me, and when my daughter was born, she came to work fulltime to keep house and take care of my child. I loved her dearly, but soon realized I wanted to be a full-time "Mom" so I resigned from my work and stayed home (a decision I have never regretted).
The woman's name was Lara, and she was working for us during the civil rights riots in 1960. I can remember going home (to a 3-room apartment) for lunch, and watching WRAL-5 noon news. When all the coverage of the riots came on, Lara would say, "Miss Melvin, if those NEGROES don't shut their mouths, they're going to get all the rest of us black folks in trouble."
I rejoiced when the barriers between "black and white" began to fall. I wept when Martin Luther King was killed, just as I wept when John F. Kennedy was shot. They were both God's children and my brothers in Christ.
There have always been "troublemakers"....both white and black....and I'm afraid there always will be in this life. The trouble, however, has not been with the majority of the blacks and whites. The problem has been created by a handful of whites who ARE prejudiced toward the blacks and a handful of blacks, who are out to prove that they are not EQUAL to whites but SUPERIOR.
The pages of history are filled with outstanding men and women....of both races....who have made significant contributions toward making this nation better and better. I can only pray that Barack Hussein Obama is one of these who will bring this nation, under God, into unity of spirit.
He can't do it alone...but, yielded to the Lord Jesus Christ, he can be the greatest catalyst this nation has ever known. But, first of all, there has to be a dynamic ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT in this nation.
God is color-blind. And He loves all races equally. But His Word to all humanity is: "Be ye holy, as I am holy." We've got a long way to go to attain that holiness (righteousness) that exalts our nation....again.
Some of my most precious early memories are of a black man called "Smokey" who worked with my father on the farm. Back in "those days", you didn't just hope in the car and scoot over to pick up day labor. Dad would go over on Sunday night and pick Smokey up and bring him to the farm. He had a room of his own in a building behind the farmhouse, and spent most of his free time in his room...reading his Bible and praying, and doing beautiful hand carvings. He ate his meals with our family, but soon excused himself to go "home". Quite frequently, my absence from the house would be missed....Mom said she didn't have to wonder at all where I was. When she started looking, the first place she checked was Smokey's and there I'd be sitting on the bed listening to Smokey talk about his past, and sometimes reading from the Bible aloud to me!
Sometimes when Dad would go to pick Smokey up on Sunday night, he'd take the entire family with him, and we'd attend Smokey's Sunday night church service with him...the only white people in the congregation. I never once sensed any difference from them...other than the color of their skin. They loved Jesus, were good parents, and wonderful neighbors. It was only when we visited my Dad's sister "in town" that I noticed there was a difference in the attitude of black people toward us....and to this day, I don't think the difference was because of race or color, but because they did not know the God that our black friends in the country knew!
When I became pregnant with my daughter (and only child), I was working as an Administrative Assistant at North Carolina State College (it had not yet been given the title of "University"). My husband had graduated from N.C.State 3 years earlier in 1961. All the time he was a student, I was working full-time and typing manuscripts and theses to supplement his summer earnings to pay living and school expenses. I was blessed to be able to afford someone to come one day a week, clean and do laundry for me. This precious woman was black and became a second mother to me, and when my daughter was born, she came to work fulltime to keep house and take care of my child. I loved her dearly, but soon realized I wanted to be a full-time "Mom" so I resigned from my work and stayed home (a decision I have never regretted).
The woman's name was Lara, and she was working for us during the civil rights riots in 1960. I can remember going home (to a 3-room apartment) for lunch, and watching WRAL-5 noon news. When all the coverage of the riots came on, Lara would say, "Miss Melvin, if those NEGROES don't shut their mouths, they're going to get all the rest of us black folks in trouble."
I rejoiced when the barriers between "black and white" began to fall. I wept when Martin Luther King was killed, just as I wept when John F. Kennedy was shot. They were both God's children and my brothers in Christ.
There have always been "troublemakers"....both white and black....and I'm afraid there always will be in this life. The trouble, however, has not been with the majority of the blacks and whites. The problem has been created by a handful of whites who ARE prejudiced toward the blacks and a handful of blacks, who are out to prove that they are not EQUAL to whites but SUPERIOR.
The pages of history are filled with outstanding men and women....of both races....who have made significant contributions toward making this nation better and better. I can only pray that Barack Hussein Obama is one of these who will bring this nation, under God, into unity of spirit.
He can't do it alone...but, yielded to the Lord Jesus Christ, he can be the greatest catalyst this nation has ever known. But, first of all, there has to be a dynamic ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT in this nation.
God is color-blind. And He loves all races equally. But His Word to all humanity is: "Be ye holy, as I am holy." We've got a long way to go to attain that holiness (righteousness) that exalts our nation....again.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Wash Day - July 24, 1933
That's the day I was born. Mom has told me it was on a Monday....the hottest day of the year!
Born at home (a small 6-room house...the largest room measured approximately 10' x 12'), on "wash day", I was something of an interruption of the day when I arrived at 11:00 am! But I was welcomed gladly by my Mom, Dad and an 8-year-old foster brother (Bill).
One of my Dad's sisters, Mamie, was midwife, nurse, housekeeper, cook, and everything else for those first few days after my birth. Today, such care would cost between $4,000 - $5,000, but then, it cost nothing but TIME and EFFORT, because FAMILY always helped FAMILY. It was a good thing, too, because the year I was born, my Dad earned less than $100.00 for an entire year's work in farming.
I grew up, nurtured with love, and taught early that God was Supreme. Church and Sunday School were my first places to "visit", and they were very important to our family as we grew together to know and love the Lord Jesus Christ.
My childhood was quite different than it would have been in today's culture. Children were taught from an early age to fear God, to obey parents, to tell the truth, and learned at an early age that, as soon as we were old enough, we were expected to share in the work on the farm.
As I grew up, my "chores" included gathering the eggs from the hen house, carrying in wood for the woodstove that cooked our food and the fireplace that warmed our living room, "winding" water from a deep well for all purposes. There were no indoor "toilets", only an outhouse some distance from the house, so as I grew, another of my chores was emptying and washing out of the "chamber pot" which sat under the bed at night (our indoor toilet!).
I was taught early on how to plant and care for a garden....how to gather produce at maturity and preserve it for winter's meals. Hard work, but many happy memories as I recall picking green beans (bushels at a time) and sitting under a shade tree preparing them for canning. There were always aunts and cousins to help us one day (and the next day, we helped them)!
FAMILY helping FAMILY working together, laughing together, and sometimes crying together!
"Wash Day" was no way like today. Today we gather the clothes, dump them in an automatic washer with detergent and bleach, go about our other activities, and come back later to transfer them from the washer to the dryer.
Until I was 10 years old, "wash day" began with drawing enough water from the well to fill two No. 3 wash tubs and a cast iron pot which sat on three legs above a carefully laid fire. When I was born, Mom did have an agitator washing machine (prior to that, she washed the clothes by scrubbing them on an old "washboard"), but in order to make certain the clothes were truly cleaned, they were first boiled in water in that cast iron pot, being stirred frequently with a wooden paddle. From there they went into the washing machine where they agitated for about 20 minutes to remove the loosened dirt, then they were transferred into the first "rinse water".
For many years the excess water was"wrung out by hand" as the clothes proceeded through the wash day process. From the first "rinse water", they went into the final rinse water to which had been added "bluing" to make the "whites whiter" and the "brights brighter". (Yes, we had advertising "back then", mostly on billboards and radio)!
Whew! Don't it make you tired just to think about it? Ah, but wait, we're not through yet. We still have to dry the clothes by hanging them on an outdoor clothes line, praying for a day of sunshine with no rain! And then we have to empty all that dirty "wash water" and store the tubs and wash pot until the next week. And then, we had to take the clean clothes off the clothesline, fold and put them away. (And, yes, sometimes heavy winds....or that darned goat.... would knock down the line and the clothes would have to be rewashed!)
Reading what I've just written, I promise I'll never complain again about having to do two loads of laundry (at my convenience) every Saturday.
All that work has made me tired.....So, I'm gonna rest for a while. I'll be back!
Born at home (a small 6-room house...the largest room measured approximately 10' x 12'), on "wash day", I was something of an interruption of the day when I arrived at 11:00 am! But I was welcomed gladly by my Mom, Dad and an 8-year-old foster brother (Bill).
One of my Dad's sisters, Mamie, was midwife, nurse, housekeeper, cook, and everything else for those first few days after my birth. Today, such care would cost between $4,000 - $5,000, but then, it cost nothing but TIME and EFFORT, because FAMILY always helped FAMILY. It was a good thing, too, because the year I was born, my Dad earned less than $100.00 for an entire year's work in farming.
I grew up, nurtured with love, and taught early that God was Supreme. Church and Sunday School were my first places to "visit", and they were very important to our family as we grew together to know and love the Lord Jesus Christ.
My childhood was quite different than it would have been in today's culture. Children were taught from an early age to fear God, to obey parents, to tell the truth, and learned at an early age that, as soon as we were old enough, we were expected to share in the work on the farm.
As I grew up, my "chores" included gathering the eggs from the hen house, carrying in wood for the woodstove that cooked our food and the fireplace that warmed our living room, "winding" water from a deep well for all purposes. There were no indoor "toilets", only an outhouse some distance from the house, so as I grew, another of my chores was emptying and washing out of the "chamber pot" which sat under the bed at night (our indoor toilet!).
I was taught early on how to plant and care for a garden....how to gather produce at maturity and preserve it for winter's meals. Hard work, but many happy memories as I recall picking green beans (bushels at a time) and sitting under a shade tree preparing them for canning. There were always aunts and cousins to help us one day (and the next day, we helped them)!
FAMILY helping FAMILY working together, laughing together, and sometimes crying together!
"Wash Day" was no way like today. Today we gather the clothes, dump them in an automatic washer with detergent and bleach, go about our other activities, and come back later to transfer them from the washer to the dryer.
Until I was 10 years old, "wash day" began with drawing enough water from the well to fill two No. 3 wash tubs and a cast iron pot which sat on three legs above a carefully laid fire. When I was born, Mom did have an agitator washing machine (prior to that, she washed the clothes by scrubbing them on an old "washboard"), but in order to make certain the clothes were truly cleaned, they were first boiled in water in that cast iron pot, being stirred frequently with a wooden paddle. From there they went into the washing machine where they agitated for about 20 minutes to remove the loosened dirt, then they were transferred into the first "rinse water".
For many years the excess water was"wrung out by hand" as the clothes proceeded through the wash day process. From the first "rinse water", they went into the final rinse water to which had been added "bluing" to make the "whites whiter" and the "brights brighter". (Yes, we had advertising "back then", mostly on billboards and radio)!
Whew! Don't it make you tired just to think about it? Ah, but wait, we're not through yet. We still have to dry the clothes by hanging them on an outdoor clothes line, praying for a day of sunshine with no rain! And then we have to empty all that dirty "wash water" and store the tubs and wash pot until the next week. And then, we had to take the clean clothes off the clothesline, fold and put them away. (And, yes, sometimes heavy winds....or that darned goat.... would knock down the line and the clothes would have to be rewashed!)
Reading what I've just written, I promise I'll never complain again about having to do two loads of laundry (at my convenience) every Saturday.
All that work has made me tired.....So, I'm gonna rest for a while. I'll be back!
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
WHAT BLESSED RELIEF.......
Whew.....I cannot begin to tell you just how great it feels to escape from the malady which afflicts so much of the world today! Some call it 'AMBITION'; Some call it 'GREED'; some call it "KEEPING UP WITH THE JONESES". Still others call it "GETTING BACK TO BASICS".
Whatever you choose to call it is okay with me. This is a FREE COUNTRY we live in (at least for now)! You're gonna find this blog quite different from my first blog, SANGUINITY IN SENESCENCE, in that I'll be sharing more from my personal experiences (75 years worth of them!) things I've learned just from living this long!
A child of the GREAT DEPRESSION ERA (born in 1933), I've seen QUITE A FEW "CHANGES" during my lifetime.....not all of them have been for the better. There are some things I didn't grow up with that I'd certainly hate to have to do without today.....such as running water and indoor plumbing! But there are things we had "back then" which would make today's world so much better!
The first of those "back then" assets is closer-knit families! In today's world, each family member is so involved in his/her individual pursuits that it is often difficult to find even an hour each day to communicate.
The next is neighbors that we really knew....because there were very few movie theaters....no shopping malls....a minimum of "socials" associated with our church attendance. Consequently, when we had a "need" (such as a cup of sugar to finish baking that pound cake) we simply went "next door" and borrowed it from a neighbor, until our next scheduled trip to the grocery store!
Thus was removed today's tendency to hop in the car and go to the store to get some sugar .....often returning home with at least 5 or 6 other items...plus, if you have young children, a new "toy" which before the end of the day had already been discarded.
I'll start from the beginning to share what it was like growing up in a slower-paced society, just beginning to recover from the market crash of 1929. It just might help in the days ahead! So, check back often to learn how things were "back then" (as my daughter used to say...."when dinosaurs roamed the earth")!
I'll be back!
Whatever you choose to call it is okay with me. This is a FREE COUNTRY we live in (at least for now)! You're gonna find this blog quite different from my first blog, SANGUINITY IN SENESCENCE, in that I'll be sharing more from my personal experiences (75 years worth of them!) things I've learned just from living this long!
A child of the GREAT DEPRESSION ERA (born in 1933), I've seen QUITE A FEW "CHANGES" during my lifetime.....not all of them have been for the better. There are some things I didn't grow up with that I'd certainly hate to have to do without today.....such as running water and indoor plumbing! But there are things we had "back then" which would make today's world so much better!
The first of those "back then" assets is closer-knit families! In today's world, each family member is so involved in his/her individual pursuits that it is often difficult to find even an hour each day to communicate.
The next is neighbors that we really knew....because there were very few movie theaters....no shopping malls....a minimum of "socials" associated with our church attendance. Consequently, when we had a "need" (such as a cup of sugar to finish baking that pound cake) we simply went "next door" and borrowed it from a neighbor, until our next scheduled trip to the grocery store!
Thus was removed today's tendency to hop in the car and go to the store to get some sugar .....often returning home with at least 5 or 6 other items...plus, if you have young children, a new "toy" which before the end of the day had already been discarded.
I'll start from the beginning to share what it was like growing up in a slower-paced society, just beginning to recover from the market crash of 1929. It just might help in the days ahead! So, check back often to learn how things were "back then" (as my daughter used to say...."when dinosaurs roamed the earth")!
I'll be back!
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