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!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
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.
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