Category Archives: Reflections


This last couple of years I have written frequently about our process of letting go and discarding things we do not use anymore. The letting go is an emotional, psychological and sentimental exercise as well as being physical. We all tend to cling to things that have memories attached to them, particularly if they belong to someone we love. I suppose it is because in keeping these things, we feel as if we have a small part of that person around us which gives us comfort.

Throughout this time of discarding things, I have carefully packed up items I knew our children would delight in having….Memories of times gone by…things I inherited from my Mother, Father and Grandparents were put into small boxes for them to unpack at a later date. But, I asked them first before I did so. No sense in foisting on our adult children something they do not want! Each one tells me what they are interested in and as always, each ones choices are as different from each other as they are.

I have already gifted some of my Mothers and Mother in laws things to our daughter who has them in her home where she can enjoy them now. She was given the choice of what she wanted and there were a few things she loved and asked for. It is fun to go and visit her and see these things when I am there. There are not many, because she did not want many, but what IS there, I enjoy, and so does she. She calls it the Ancestor Section which consists of an antique buffet of my Mothers on which sits a wedding lamp of ours and some photos of both sets of Grandparents plus a very few little collectibles. Not much, but enough.. Looking at these family things brings up all kinds of warm and happy memories of times gone by. I think the joy comes in the feeling of continuity of family through the generations.

Recently, we had our young neighbors over for breakfast in our courtyard as a gesture of farewell because they were moving the next morning to New York! They lived here in Texas for 5 years and now they were moving on. They are a young couple with a 14 year old daughter and as we sat and chatted with them, the subject of packing stuff for their move came up. She told me that they had packed the majority of their things themselves because the moving company rates were outrageous. She continued on to say that because she was a minimalist, the packing was not as bad as it could have been.

In our conversation, she began to talk about the differences between her Mother and her when it came to their homes. While she is a minimalist, her Mother is a collector of all things. She is not a hoarder, but she has a penchant for pretty collections which she can well afford as she is a Biochemical Engineer and her husband is an Attorney,

She laughingly talked of her parents attempt to downsize. Apparently, they had too many gardens to care for which became to much for them and she said they sold their home and bought another home that was the same size as their previous home but on a much smaller lot. She asked her Mother why they bought another big house since the adult children are all off living their own lives. Mother said, “Well, we want to have space for our children to come visit”. The daughter said ”But, no one comes to visit other than maybe once a year”. Mother said, “It doesn’t matter, I want people to be comfortable when they come to stay.”

She went on to lovingly mock her Mothers way of life and commented on how her Mother wanted to pass down a family heirloom tea set to her granddaughter who is the only grandchild on either side. Neither the granddaughter nor her daughter wanted it, but they finally took it begrudgingly at the insistence of Grandma. At this point of the conversation, Mother and daughter looked at each other and laughed.

I found myself shrinking inside to witness how some descendants of our generation see us and think of us. I felt sorry for her Mother because obviously her daughter doesn’t understand the mothers life story. She also did not have the intuition to simply be a gracious receiver of something Grandmother held dear. The “art” of gracious receiving did not exist here. Another thought flitted through my mind that many in our children’s generation do not seem sentimental about generations past. Many in the younger generation see things through a different lens than we did. We valued a loved ones material goods for sentimental reasons. So many of our descendants don’t feel that way and I think it is because a lot of this generation in America were raised in a world of seeming abundance.

As she went on talking about her Moms expensive collections which require display cases and curios, I found myself thinking of my own collections acquired through the years…figurines, artists proofs and prints, lovely dishes… (she said “my Mom has TWO sets of dishes and silverware….can you even imagine that?”)

( Uh, yes…I actually can.) ( 🥰 Lol! )

Then she and her daughter laughed while shaking their heads at their Mother/Grandmothers folly. She proudly said, “I only buy what I need. No excess for me!”. Neither Mother or Daughter recognized the intention of love attached to a piece of history behind the family heirlooms being offered. They were simply seeing the gesture as something to avoid.

Now, I DO want to add that as I describe our conversation that day, it may make our neighbor seem insensitive or unkind. I do not believe she was intentionally meaning to be either one.. She was simply and candidly expressing her thoughts and fortunately her Mother wasn’t here to hear it. She was expressing how she felt and it helped clarify to me how my generation may be seen through the eyes of the next generation. Ouch! 🙂

Heirlooms? These were things we once coveted when WE were young and first married. Beautiful antique furniture and home goods were a much desired acquisition in those days. But, in those days, there were still a fair amount of women who were housewives, raising their children while their husband put in long hours to support the family. Because she spent so much time at home, a woman enjoyed feathering her nest, so to speak. Most women are nesters of one form or another. We are a product of the era we grew up in and it all seemed perfectly normal at the time.

In the course of our long drawn out exercise of seeking the “Less is more” lifestyle, I have seen first hand the accumulation of what nearly 50 years of marriage brings about. In our case, we have moved a LOT of times which allowed for some discarding of certain things along the way, so while we are not buried in stuff, we still have much more than we need.

What I have discovered is that material goods hold very little value anymore because there is so much excess in the world we live in. The thrift shop in our small community built a much larger building about a year ago and it is already FULL of peoples cast offs. The cast offs in this area are very good quality because we live in a city in constant transition with people moving in and moving out all the time. One of the Managers of the store told my husband that they make about $100,000.00 a month in sales, which after paying their mortgage and utilities, ALL goes to local and city charities. All workers there are volunteers. This makes me feel good as we drive over with another load of things for them to sell, things we do not need anymore.

When I first started this project, I often felt overwhelmed as I sifted through years of goods that brought about memories. I was one of those Mothers who really believed in what the Norman Rockwell paintings conveyed. This was what I dreamed about and hoped for. What I did not realize was how much times were changing and how those beautiful paintings were depictions of times gone by, not of what the future would present. My material possessions were always purchased with the intent of serving our family and friends and creating memories. It was all innocently done with the best of intentions.

These days, we tend to gather more frequently as a family at our children’s homes where casual is the name of the day. We LOVE spending time with them at their homes where we can be the company versus serving as the Host, Hostess, Chef, Server and clean up crew. Yes! I like this new way of doing things.

If life were a banquet, I see us starting out as an appetizer followed by moving on to the soup and salad of childhood. Then we grow up right into the main course of adult and family living. When we grow old, it is then time to cleanse the palate before ingesting the next course. We clear away our things much as the hostess clears the table in preparation for the final course. Since we have enjoyed the many rich and varied flavors of the main course of life for so long, perhaps the final course will be a delectable dessert, a smaller and sweeter helping of life as we experience the completion of a banquet filled with so many sensory pleasures.

Well, enough reflections for the day. It is time to get back at the thinning out of worldly goods. It has been a rewarding exercise, allowing me to reminisce upon each item I handle while pondering its future. This ongoing project is being executed for the day I am brought home by the angels, where my children can walk in, make quick work of what remains at our house and get on with their lives. I don’t want them to feel burdened by my worldly possessions. Until then, with every load to the thrift shop, my square footage grows along with my sense of peace that comes from simple living. This has been a extended time of counting my blessings! Less is more! Yes it is!


Getting it right!

It has been 21 months since the beginning of the Pandemic and life has been turned upside down and inside out. The majority of the news has been rife with doom and gloom and dire predictions on every aspect of our life. One has to search extensively to find uplifting stories that stir our hearts and bring a smile to our faces. The sheer magnitude of negative news and misinformation is staggering. After a while it just clutters up the mind and weighs a person down..

Yesterday I started putting up Christmas decorations. Usually this is something I enjoy doing. All through the many years, Christmas music has always wafted about our place as I pulled out time worn holiday decor from their storage spots in our closet. Each item brought back memories from long ago. This year, rather than reveling in this tradition, it somehow became a chore!

We no longer have a large Christmas tree. We did away with that years ago when climbing a ladder to decorate a 10 foot Christmas tree became a risky task for an aging body. We settled on a small 4 foot table tree which remains decorated year round. After Christmas, we simply put a large plastic bag over it and store it in one of our closets. I do not miss the time I used to spend dressing and undressing the tree each year nor the time it took to painstakingly store Christmas bulbs in little partitioned boxes.

The tree was set up in no time on our buffet table. After setting it in place, I pulled out a choir child centerpiece of my Mothers that goes back to 1965. Every time I see that piece, my Mothers smiling face comes to mind. My goodness, my heart still misses her. She was such a good Mother and an even better friend. Life goes on, as they say, but there are always those special moments that come about that I wish I could share with her and when I wish I could have one more conversation with her. Lifting this centerpiece out of the storage box brings about the yearning for a reconnection to my Mom.

In the center of our family room and in front of the fireplace sits a large square coffee table and this is where the centerpiece rests each year, and this is where I place it now.

I then set about decorating the mantle. I struggled with this for some unknown reason. I just could not get it right. While it looked nice, it gave me no joy. Why was this?

On to the dining room table…another centerpiece.

I put all holiday items not used this year into boxes to be taken to the thrift shop. Some were more difficult to part with than others. I suddenly felt weary so I just left the boxes designated for the thrift shop sitting about and went to sit down in my chair. As I looked around the room at the Christmas decor it felt cluttered and overdone.

My feet were aching from moving around in slipper socks on hard porcelain floors. No forgiveness there. I felt very tired and my spirit lagged! What in the world was the matter with me?

I fell asleep in my chair and when I woke up I realized a lot of time had passed. Looking at the clock I knew I better go to bed and catch a few winks of sleep because it was well after midnight. I toddled off to bed and I slept soundly for a few hours but then I awakened from a bad dream. The dream was disjointed and in it, I was searching for my place in the world. Somehow I did not know where I was, but I also could not remember my way back to where I belonged. I tossed and turned and finally got up and came back out into our family room and my chair. What in the world was going on here?

I think the Pandemic has completely altered my view of life and what is really important. For much of the last 21 months I have been packing up small boxes of things and sending them to the thrift shop, It isn’t difficult to part with things if one does it in small amounts. Bit by bit, our things keep going out the door. Bit by bit, I enjoy the space that emerges as things are lifted up and sent off. I always offer these things to the kids first and sometimes they happily take things and sometimes they politely say “no thank you!”. No hard feelings on my part for I am happy to purge one way or the other.

Interesting to me is my uneasiness with the Christmas decor. How much of this seasonal fare does one need after all? This morning I eliminated the mantle decorations and the table decorations entirely. I kept my Mothers choir child centerpiece (purely sentimental) and the 4 foot tree on the buffet table, along with a few decorations under the tree. Everything else was put in a box for the thrift shop.

My spirit lifted! Well, now, things that once gave me great joy no longer serve that purpose because I am no longer the same person. I guess you could say I am evolving.

A lot of clutter and uneasiness had taken root in my mind and emotions these past 21 months due to being inundated with an avalanche of negative news and dire warnings. Happily, it now seems to be dissipating since shutting off the devices that delivered them to my psyche. Eliminating social media was also helpful. I desperately needed a feeling of solitude and peace wherever I could find it. Rather than listen to everyone’s else’s life narrative, I chose to investigate and marinate in my own thoughts as I worked out in our garden. I enjoyed communing with the birds, the bees and the plants while pausing for a moment now and again to give notice to a soft breeze on my face or the warm sun on my body. I have allowed myself the luxury of time spent reading a good book here and there and relaxing time reclining back in my chair, eyes closed, taking in some beautiful soul stirring music.

My goal to surviving this Pandemic is to cultivate a relationship with self and to enjoy communing with my creator. I am reclaiming my place in this world, and MY place is “within”. This is where I find comfort and joy and where I find a sense of belonging. I still enjoy spending time with friends and of course I love my family and the times I spend with them, but all the rest is just a bunch of noise. In the Bible there is a short verse where it is written “Be Still and know that I am God”. As I remember my dream, I realize that finding my way to where I belong is to understand that while I am “in” this world, I am not to be “of” this world. I don’t have to let the people and events of this world intrude onto my inner space where God resides in the form of the Holy Spirit.

I continue to feel a sense of urgency in wanting ALL excess clutter removed, be it material goods or mental processing! My mind wants peace and quiet and a place where I can hear God speaking to me! It has been difficult for me to tune Him in amidst all that horrific negative static.

Simplifying feels like a good way to honor Christmas. Jesus was born in the most simple and humble of places, yet the story of his birth was majestic. Imagine in those days the quiet vast expanse of inky black sky dotted with countless stars under which the Wise men traveled. Imagine how one star stood out from all the rest as the brightest of lights beckoning and guiding their way to the Christ child. Imagine the stable wherein the focal point was a Mother, a Father, and a brand new baby Jesus. No clutter….just a simple place where animals and humans stood anchored and connected in the sweet smell of soft hay.

O.k. The coffee cup is empty and now I need to pack up the discarded pile of Christmas decor. Another trip to the gift shop is in my future.

I wish you a Merry Christmas and I pray that in the not so distant future we will be living a life that encompasses

more love than hate,

more joy than sorrow,

more positive than negative,

more good than evil

and a life devoid of the all distractions that clutter brings.

I am forever indebted to my Mother and all my loved ones who introduced me to a living and personal God! I am never alone. I will always keep close to my heart God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost! I do not know how I would have managed in this life without Him.

Praise be to God!

Luke 2:7 ESV

And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.


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Where did she go?

Once upon a time, in the woodsy northern territory of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, a young girl freely roamed the countryside in the summer months when school was not in session. She had many Uncles and Aunts who lived in the area along with a multitude of cousins. She had a brother, a sister, a set of parents and two sets of grandparents. Love was in abundance and she felt it. Her life was simple and each day took care of itself. She is me and I remember it all so well!

Summers were a time when my Mother would let me sleep in as long as I wanted and I always slept in late. My bedroom walls were wallpapered in a very soft moss colored textured pattern and as the sun would shine in the window on that side of the house, the room glowed a soft green and I often felt as if I were waking up outdoors. As I slowly woke up from a deep sleep, I would stretch out in my bed and lay there watching the dust motes dance on the shaft of sunlight pouring in through my bedroom window. I could hear the birds singing in the trees and the flys buzzing around the windows. I could hear a dogs occasional bark off in the distance. Someone was already mowing their yard and I enjoyed hearing the motor as it went back and forth cutting the grass. These were some of the sounds of summer, and I also enjoyed the quiet within the house. Mom was always very quiet on those long ago mornings. One could hear her in the kitchen with the sounds of dishes and cutlery being moved about. She was our short order cook who would make breakfast for us as we arose for the day. It was a peaceful existence and she created this for us.

My world was my own to explore because there were no set expectations for how I should spend my day. In those days, kids were allowed to be kids and we spent our childhood summers in a lazy, unscheduled, unfettered fashion where each day just unfolded before our eyes.

I seriously doubt if any of the kids in that time and place even knew for certain what day of the week it was during the summer months because one day was pretty much the same as the next. The only exception to our unscheduled time came about on Saturday evenings and Sunday mornings.

Most of our Saturday evenings were spent after dinner in preparation for Church and Sunday School the following day. Our Mother orchestrated the preparation by making sure we had our baths and shampoos before bed. She also made sure that her daughters hair was rolled up in curlers. Our Sunday Church clothes were laid out for the following morning. Shoes were cleaned or polished and a couple of nickels were tied up inside of our hankies for the Sunday School offering. The next day, after we attended Sunday School, we would go upstairs to the main church and sit next to our parents and/or grandparents for the church service.

In my minds eye, I can still see and sense my long ago family sitting beside me in our modern day church pews. I can almost hear them singing along with me to the same old hymns that were sung long ago in that little white church on the hill. For us rural folks, Church was also a social event tied up with learning our scripture lessons and listening to the Pastor share his insights on how God would want us to live. We saw many extended family members and friends at our church and everyone knew everyone! I remember how proud I was of my Mother as I watched her exchange pleasantries with friends and neighbors after the service. She had a sweet soul and a kind heart and people were naturally drawn to her. She was a beautiful woman who took pride in her appearance. In my young girls view, she radiated a glow around her, all the way from her smiling face to her animated way of talking and laughing.

Because my Mother was a self described perfectionist, she preferred to do all household chores by herself just so they would be done to her own specifications. We didn’t have chores as children and we did not receive an allowance. Because we lived in such a rural area, there was no need for kids to have spending money, other than the occasional nickel or dime our parents gave us to buy candy if we were somewhere near where they sold it.

Our family lived down the road from a small lake where I would swim daily, weather permitting. I was often teased about my love of the water and was jokingly warned that I might possibly develop gills on the side of my head just like the fish that inhabited the lake. I knew they were kidding, but the image stuck in my head.

I did not lack for anything, nor did I have anything in excess. When I walked to the lake for a swim, I walked down the road wearing my bathing suit under a pair of summer shorts with my towel thrown over my shoulder, so different from my city cousins who would come to the north country to visit. These cousins had beach bags filled with their swim suits, towels, sun tan lotion, beach balls and/or inflatable tubes which they would inflate upon arrival at the lake. Huff! Puff! I would watch them slather Coppertone Sun tan lotion on their bodies and when I inquired what that was, they began to explain that it was to help them get a sun tan. Half way through the explanation they looked at my rich deep tan and said “Never mind…you don’t need it”.

No wonder I miss this young girl, this long ago version of myself where I was so tenderly cared for! Growing up has its advantages and in my case, I have certainly been blessed. I have a wonderful husband who cares for me as well as my Mother once did and I happily return the favor to him. I have nice children, grandchildren, good friends, and a lovely place to live.

Yet, despite this very nice adult life, I often reflect on her …that young girl from so long ago. She, who lived amongst a very large clan of people in a community that existed in much simpler times. It was a place where we all knew we “belonged”. Many generations were born and raised there and some remain there even today. In modern times, the newer generations often move far away, following the path of their careers. Each move promises nicer cars, bigger houses, and more vacations, which are all nice in their own right. But at the end of the day, nothing material really satiates our spirit. What each of us really want, really yearn for, and really need is love and acceptance and a feeling of belonging.

Sitting here now, as I think about those days, I feel a sense of longing and melancholy, which seems odd because I have been gifted with such a rewarding life. I am content in my journey, having been blessed with a husband who has been both my sail and anchor in life’s waters. His sail is always there, giving us a lift and speed and direction. His anchor is always ready to stabilize us during life’s storms. Together, we have wonderful children and grandchildren. So, why then, the yearning?

I do not really know why this yearning comes over me. Somedays, I miss that much younger version of myself! Yet, I know and understand that she belongs back there in the recesses of my memories. It is nice to go in and collect her every once in a while to laugh with her a bit as she and I enjoy a shared memory. Memories are wonderful, but as I move forward in life, I need to remind myself that it is in the present where I will be living and making more memories. I think all of our good times are stored in our memory vault for those less than perfect future days where we feel sad or lonely or lost. They are there for us to pull out, relive and remind ourselves how rich and rewarding our journey has been. No ones life is perfect, but life is often filled with perfect moments. These moments are little gifts for us to revisit, enjoy for the moment, and then put back again. It is not good to live in the past, but a visit now and again is perfectly o.k. and is often satiating to our spirit.

“Where did she go?” you ask….Well, she is right here. She has always been here. She and I are each a part of all the ages I have ever been which makes up the fabric of my life. . The good Lord knew that a reunion between my present and past self would be balm to my spirit on those days where I feel a yearning to go “home” and I think that is why he gifted us with memory.

Where is home, our one true home? Home is wherever I am at any particular time, and wherever I hang my hat. It is a collective of all the places I have ever lived and left behind as I continued my life’s journey. I do know where my real home is and my journey will eventually lead me there, deep within the heart and spirit of God!

I enjoyed those childlike memories today….memories of a childhood well lived while I was being well loved. No wonder I like to go there for a visit. For now, though, this visit has filled my cup and it is time to step back into the present, which as we all know is the “GIFT”. I think I will also enjoy unwrapping this gift as it unfolds! From the looks of it, it holds much promise for what will be revealed.



Words are very important to me. Because I am a writer, I generally contemplate every word I am writing and how it applies to the content of the story I am trying to present. I am also a voracious reader and have been so since I was a young child. I would read anything and everything I could get my hands on, even reading the words on a cereal box as a child while I ate my Cornflakes, Wheaties, or Rice Krispies on any given morning.

In my formative, growing up years, we lived rurally in a day and age before the internet and social media, so we got our information from Newspapers, books and our parents who watched the evening news. This was a time before children were over scheduled every minute of everyday with planned activities, so it was up to us to create our own entertainment. I read books with great enthusiasm because books opened and expanded my world. As I read, I gained knowledge and a growing perspective of the world around me. Every time I came to a word where I did not know its meaning, I would look it up in the dictionary and with that, my word knowledge continued to grow! I read many different types of books. I read books of Fiction, Nonfiction, Philosophy, Bibliographies, Memoirs, History, to name a few. In church we read and were taught stories from the Bible. With everything I read, not only did my knowledge and perspective grow, my curiosity also exploded. The more I gained knowledge, the more I realized how much was out there that I didn’t know. There was so much to discover and I was a very interested explorer.

Recently, we were involved in a Bible Study about a chapter in the book of Daniel and as we read the passage, a couple of sentences leaped off the page for me. This chapter in Daniel is recounting something that I had not fully considered previously.

Daniel’s Vision of a Man

10 In the third year of Cyrus king of Persia, a revelation was given to Daniel. Its message was true and it concerned a great war.The understanding of the message came to him in a vision.

At that time I, Daniel, mourned for three weeks. I ate no choice food; no meat or wine touched my lips; and I used no lotions at all until the three weeks were over.

On the twenty-fourth day of the first month, as I was standing on the bank of the great river, the Tigris, I looked up and there before me was a man dressed in linen, with a belt of fine gold from Uphaz around his waist. His body was like topaz,his face like lightning, his eyes like flaming torches, his arms and legs like the gleam of burnished bronze, and his voice like the sound of a multitude.

I, Daniel, was the only one who saw the vision; those who were with me did not see it, but such terror overwhelmed them that they fled and hid themselves. So I was left alone, gazing at this great vision; I had no strength left, my face turned deathly pale and I was helpless. Then I heard him speaking, and as I listened to him, I fell into a deep sleep, my face to the ground.

10 A hand touched me and set me trembling on my hands and knees. 11 He said, “Daniel, you who are highly esteemed, consider carefully the words I am about to speak to you, and stand up, for I have now been sent to you.” And when he said this to me, I stood up trembling.

12 Then he continued, “Do not be afraid, Daniel. Since the first day that you set your mind to gain understanding and to humble yourself before your God, your words were heard, and I have come in response to them. 

13 But the prince of the Persian kingdom resisted me twenty-one days. Then Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me, because I was detained there with the king of Persia. 

14 Now I have come to explain to you what will happen to your people in the future, for the vision concerns a time yet to come.”

15 While he was saying this to me, I bowed with my face toward the ground and was speechless. 16 Then one who looked like a man touched my lips, and I opened my mouth and began to speak. I said to the one standing before me, “I am overcome with anguish because of the vision, my lord, and I feel very weak. 17 How can I, your servant, talk with you, my lord? My strength is gone and I can hardly breathe.”

18 Again the one who looked like a man touched me and gave me strength. 19 Do not be afraid, you who are highly esteemed,” he said. “Peace! Be strong now; be strong.”

When he spoke to me, I was strengthened and said, “Speak, my lord, since you have given me strength.”

20 So he said, “Do you know why I have come to you? Soon I will return to fight against the prince of Persia, and when I go, the prince of Greece will come; 21 but first I will tell you what is written in the Book of Truth. (No one supports me against them except Michael, your prince.

As I exclaimed enthusiastically over the “conversation between an Angel and Daniel” in verses 12 and 13, it was suggested that one should not get involved in only one sentence of a story, and that I should not to focus on the “details”. Rather, I should just pay attention to the story as a whole and the message the story was intended to present. I understand that to be true, but what is also especially true for me is the fact that ALL words matter to an author or they would not be there in the first place.

So, not wanting to be a burden to the class, I let it go, but knew I would go and research that sentence later on, which I did.

The sentence that caught my eye is where Daniel is being told that God heard his prayers and had sent this spirit or angel in response to his prayer.

This got my attention because while I believe in angels and I DO believe they are here to help humans, I never considered that Angels might have particular assignments doled out by God. Now, as I said, we all see things differently at different times of our life, and this was a moment of clarification for me. It was exciting!

I always thought of my prayer as going directly to God (which it does) and that God or Jesus would act on it (or not) depending on His great authority. I know that the Holy Spirit is a gift God gives us Who lives IN us to protect and guide us, so my focus has always been on the Triune God, assuming all three aspects of God were directly working things out for me in regards to my prayer. (Which They are, but also while enlisting Angels to help Them with the response.) This sentence, then, opened my eyes as to how God directs the Angels. It also clarified to me that things are often happening simultaneously and I may need to wait patiently on the Lord to bring an answer to my prayer until a time opens up for Him to answer. The visual of the angel being busy in Persia for a time on the way to bringing a response to Daniels prayer was a great illustration for me. The visual of the Archangel Michael going there to relieve him so he could respond to Daniel was also profound (to me).

Why this was important to me was because it explained to me why it sometimes takes a long time for some prayers to be answered.

Our Bible Study discussion was about how Spiritual Warfare goes on unseen by us and around all of us. This entire passage reaffirmed to me, once again, that God not only hears our prayers but that He notices our humility (or lack) while we are praying.

There is so much here that one could discuss, but going forward, (for me) I now have a very strong visual about the unseen war going on constantly between Satan and his cohorts and God our Father and his heavenly army of Angels. Both sides are always in a war, fighting for the acquisition of our souls. It was a lightning rod moment for me.

We all come to an understanding at our own pace and in our own time. Because each and every one of us are custom created by God, we are different from one another so we come to know God through His Word in our own unique ways and in our own unique timing. There is a saying “When the student is ready the teacher will appear” and I guess I was ready for that little epiphany.

Here in America, there is a spiritual war going on with Satanic forces fiercely working on all of us to our detriment. The mayhem we have seen, the hatred that people are displaying in words and action are of the devil. Of that there is no doubt. The angels are working on behalf of us at Gods request and in answer to prayer. Prayer is extremely important and the fervent, ongoing prayer going up to God in a chorus of spiritual voices will have a huge impact on how this all ends.

This sentence within the story of Daniel really resonated with me. So much so, I wanted to share it with you! You may have already arrived at that conclusion or even a different conclusion, but this happened to be mine.

Praise be to God, and please, God, BLESS America!


Esther’s Loom

pm_livrm (2)After Esther finished washing the dishes from her early morning breakfast with Artie she looked around the kitchen.  Everything was in its place.  She had made the bed right after Art left for work and there wasn’t anything really pressing on her schedule, so she pondered what to do.  Mentally, she did a quick run through of the house to see if she had left anything undone.

The house where she and Artie lived was modest, but perfect for the two of them.  There was a kitchen with upper and lower cabinets that ran along the entire wall opposite the doorway where one entered from outside. In the middle of this wall of cabinets was a window above a double sink. Esther kept little pots of herbs on the window sill and was able to watch their growth progress from day to day.  Through the window she could see the road that passed by their house out front, and beyond that, was an large open field where she could watch the changes that came with the seasons.

The wall to the right of cabinet wall held another large window which was also placed in the middle. Under this window sat a large round oak pedestal table where they sat and had their meals. Esther kept a patterned oil cloth tablecloth on the table to protect its surface. Through this window, they could see another field and the same road that passed by the front of the house winding it’s way down the hill. At the bottom of the hill, the main road continued on to the right. A smaller road intersected with the main road and veered left up and over another hill, providing a shortcut to the town center

Art and Esther enjoyed watching cars drive up and down the road past their property whenever they sat at their old table, though living in a rural area meant there weren’t all that many cars to see. The old oak table served as a place for their meals and provided them with a work station for book keeping, writing letters, doing crossword puzzles, or anything else they may decide to do.

On the wall opposite the table stood her cook stove.  Her  stove had 4 gas burners to one side and a deep well on the other side. This well provided space where one could burn wood for heat.  There were two circular metal lids on top of the well which could be lifted up so one could add more wood to the fire.

The fourth wall opposite the cabinet wall opened to a big pantry area, where Esther stored her prized baked goods.  She was proud of the many kinds of cakes and bars she baked in addition to her homemade Swedish rye bread.  This dense, heavy bread shaped in a circle was a family favorite. They liked to slather fresh cream butter on a hot fresh slice of bread and enjoy it alongside a cup of coffee.

Esthers small house also contained a living room, two small bedrooms and a bathroom. Under the main house was a large unfinished basement where they kept a potato bin, a canning  cellar, and an area where the washing machine sat ready for wash day.  That was all the space they had and they felt blessed to have it!

Grandmas pantry

Behind the house, Artie had built a two story free standing garage on their property.  The lower garage was large enough to fit 4 cars in a perfect square.  However, they only had one car and Artie’s old jeep, so the rest of the space was used up by tools and lawn equipment. At the far end of the garage, beyond where the cars were parked, sat a long work bench the entire width of the back wall.   Two windows sat above the work bench which provided a nice light for working at the bench. Over the work bench, hanging from the ceiling, was a cord with a bare light bulb at the end for lighting the work space.

Above the garage, at the top of a long flight of open stairs was a living space.  To the left of the stairs was a room that held Esther’s weaving loom.  At the top of the stairs to the right was a very large room where two double beds stood side by side against a wall separated by a small table with a lamp.  On the far end of the room in front of the double window were two platform rockers.  The room was painted a soft light blue and the windows were covered with very sheer crisscross curtains.  It was a very pleasant space.Grandmas loom (Similar to Grandmas loom)

Esther enjoyed going up to her weaving room to make rugs on her loom.  Artie teased her that it was her “loom-room”.  She thought that was pretty funny and would chuckle when he used those two words to describe the space.  She liked to make rag rugs and she had fun choosing what colors the rugs were going to be.  She took long strips of fabric and wrapped them around a long wooden paddle which she slid between the two rows of tightly woven threads. Each time she threaded through the fabric, she would hit a floor peddle with her foot to alternate the threads and secure the fabric in place. Back and forth the fabric would go between the long threads. Each time she added a row of fabric, she would work the pedals below, alternating the rows of threads that captured the cloth.  Back and forth, back and forth the fabric would go and after each pass through, she would push a wooden bar against the fabric pressing it tightly in place. Each time a row was added she could see the rug taking on a design and shape as it grew in size. She made many rugs this way by using old fabric from cast off clothing, carefully cut in strips and attached to one another by thread.

It was here where she would get lost in her thoughts about life. Esther had grown up and married in this area. She had raised three children, two boys and a girl. Her youngest was 13 years younger than her only daughter so he sometimes felt he as if he had two mothers. She worried about each of her children, now adults, for reasons as unique to them as they were unique in this world! Esther knew that worry was a useless exercise but she also knew that all Mothers have a tendency to do just the same about their own offspring!

Her daydreaming was interrupted by the crunch of tires on gravel! Goodness! Artie was home and she had not even started dinner! How had so much time passed? Her mind quickly ran a pictured inventory of leftovers in the refrigerator as she scurried down the stairs. As she rushed through the garage door, Artie was coming up the walk and he gave her a big smile and said “So, hows it goin Mama?” She grinned back at him as she heard him call her by their children’s name for her. As they walked toward the house, he slipped his hand around her ample waist and said,

“It’s always so nice to come home to my sweet “Es”!

Esther felt a rush of deep love in that moment and knew that while they lived a very ordinary, uneventful, and quiet life, it was just the right life for her! She began to excitingly tell him about the rugs she was making on the loom he bought for her a few years back. As they walked into the house together, the screen door slammed shut behind them which startled the birds out of their giant lilac bush close by.


Contentment is always the reward for a well lived life! Contented people live with an understanding that it is best to take one day at a time! Art and Esther were my Mothers parents and we were so fortunate to have been absorbed into the ordinariness of their daily routine any time we went there to visit as children.

Through them, we learned how to enjoy the small, unremarkable moments of life. In those long ago days, we were blessed with the extra time that was part of childhood then, where we could observe and partake in many small activities that occurred in the humdrum activity of everyday life. No one thought to “entertain” us. We were easily entertained by watching the things they did throughout their day. I liked watching the old loom busy at work at the end of my Grandmothers arms and feet. I enjoyed watching an inanimate object suddenly fill with life and rhythm as my Grandmother propelled it into action. There has never been any toy ever manufactured that has been more entertaining to a child than spending time with ones own Grandmother and watching the miracle of old rags being woven into beautiful, useful rugs!

In these days of Covid19 and “shelter in place” I am not bored! I think the quiet, unhurried world in which I grew up benefits me now! Each day brings new promise and new things to do! I enjoy NOT eating out in a restaurant as I take long forgotten recipes and create old fashioned dinners. My husband, who grew up on a farm with a similar childhood, will often stand at the stove peering into a slow cooking pot that is emitting the most delicious aroma. Thank you to my Mother and Grandmother for simple recipes that came from a time and place where very few restaurants existed.

The most valuable gifts I have ever received came from a childhood where we were not at the center of everyones attention. We were a part of a family and knew our place in the scheme of family life. As a result, there was no “pressure” to be anything other than who we were. We could just “be” and that was the greatest gift of all. Time was a rich resource in those quiet days of long ago. With time on our hands to fill, our imaginations grew and so did our creativity! Time was what created and stored for me many memories to revisit similar to the one above. These memories are always there, waiting for me to take out and enjoy! I get to see, in my minds eye, my grandparents as real and vivid as the day I spent in their company.

“This is the day which the Lord has made….We will rejoice and be glad in it.”Psalm 118:24 NKLV”


Checking on each other!

I have decided to share our response to our son as a tribute to ALL adult children who reach out to their older parents. It serves as a reminder that looking beyond your own immediate circumstances to others who are facing this pandemic alone has unexpected rewards. We are all in this together and we all need each other to get us through these terrible isolating times)

Dear Son, 

I want you to know how much it meant to me and Dad to get such a nice long email letter from you! (The unexpected blessings of a quarantine where you finally have time on your hands)

I am glad you enjoyed the pictures from our countryside drive. It was nice of you to take the time to tell us so!  It took a bit of time to put it together, so it’s nice to know you liked it! 

We appreciate knowing how you are doing and being able to picture your days…(as in organizing the house and you working on cleaning up the yard and garage!) It allows us to feel like we are a part of your life and we love it.  A really nice thing about the written word is that the recipient can go back to it any number of times to reread the words when feeling lonesome or out of sorts!  So thank you for this too! 

We pray and pray and pray! We pray for our children and their loved ones to stay well and be taken care of in all ways.  

I am eternally grateful you found the love of your life who has also become a treasured friend and family member to us as well. She is the perfect example of loving kindness! 

Stay well, I pray that God guides you to the right path in all your decisions!

Thank you for checking in on us to see if we are o.k. The love we feel from you means a lot! God bless you for this! 

We love you very much! 
Mom and Dad



It is a gorgeous March day in Austin Texas! Yesterday was lovely too, and as a consequence of those blue skies, warm air, and eager gardening heart, I way overdid it in the garden over the course of 6 hours. Goodness! Those bags of mulch and garden soil are getting heavier every year!

I just cannot seem to help myself! I dig and lift and drag and trim until I stumble back into the house, parched and exhausted at the end of my project and despite all that, I still find myself saying “What a glorious day it has been!” To say that I am not your average woman would be an understatement!

As a result of yesterdays enthusiasm in the gardening department, I now have a couple of arthritic knuckles paying me an angry visit! I am also walking around the house like the stiff tin man in the movie The Wizard of Oz!” Ouch! However, I am accepting of the aches and pains because they mean I am still able to do these things and I am alive and well and still walking this earth!

Lately, I have taken to reading many different stories about near death experiences. At first I was intrigued. Then I was obsessed to find as many as I could to read or video testimonies to watch. It has been like a graduate course on the next life in heaven.

People who experience NDE say that heaven is ablaze with a beauty unlike any we have seen or experienced on this earth. They say that experiencing heaven makes earth seem pale and imperfect in comparison. So much of what I have read made me want to suit up and buckle up for the ride of a lifetime to the next life, the “real” life with God, and the sooner the better.

That is, until I went outside yesterday and stood surrounded by Gods creation. If heaven makes this life pale by comparison, I just cannot imagine what that kind of beauty must be like to experience because this earthly beauty is absolutely breathtaking!

I watched birds flitting about making their nests for their impending future families. I looked closely at the tiniest little buds emerging forth from the tips of my Rose of Sharon tree and I felt my heart stir! Berries were ripe on the Yaupon Holly tree as a juicy banquet for the birds who were working up an appetite getting their nests ready.

As I dug into the earth, creating a hole to place a new plant, I saw earthworms wriggling their way through the new territory where they found themselves. I felt the warm sun on my back and as I looked up, I watched a few white clouds lazily making their way across the deep blue sky. All this beauty in motion and I got to be a part of it! I AM a part of it all, and I thanked God that He chose ME to be a part of His wonderful creation! Most of the time I don’t see myself as anything particularly special, but I must have a lot of value for God to have chosen ME!

I walked onto our courtyard porch area and saw wrens busily stuffing all kinds of leaves and twigs into our decorative bird cage in preparation of the babies soon to arrive. There in front of the cage entrance is a fake cardinal. The little wrens had to get up close enough to this imposter see for themselves it isn’t real. . So now they navigate past this red wooden bird and make their nest. I imagine them convincing themselves that the imposter will help keep predators away!

As I sat in our courtyard quenching my thirst with icy water, I looked up towards our very big and old oak tree on the front corner of our house. I noticed a heart shaped pair of branches right in the middle. Who says trees don’t have hearts? This tree was estimated to be 400 years old by one arborist and 250 years old by another. We don’t really care, we are just grateful it continues to live and give shade in the very hot Texas summers.

Do I want to go to heaven? YES! Yes, of course I do, however I am more than willing to wait for that experience. I am ready and look forward to it, but just not yet! I find enough beauty on our earth to satisfy and amaze me daily. Besides, if God wants me here, I trust that He has a purpose for me being in my life right here and right now and I trust that my purpose will someday be shown to me!

I don’t think our purpose on earth is necessarily a big event type thing. It may be as seemingly small as making another human being feel as if they matter in this world and to feel as if they are loved. I think daily gratitude for this life and for this world we live in is extremely important. Love definitely rules!

The sun is shining again and creation is beckoning for me to come outside once again. Nature! It is Gods playground created for all of us with the most perfect playmates to spend time with!

Have an awesome day!



When I was a young girl, I wasn’t aware that I had very poor vision because it was my “norm”.  A person can’t miss what they have never had.  When I was in first grade, the school nurse paid a visit to my parents to tell them she suspected I needed glasses and so off to the eye doctor we went. Indeed!  The school nurse was correct.  I was tested and found to be very, very nearsighted. Shortly thereafter, I received my first pair of eye glasses. 

On the way home, with my new glasses sitting squarely on my face, I felt like I had landed in a Magic Kingdom.  Everything I now saw had dimensions I had never seen before.  The trees had many individual leaves which previously appeared to my near sighted eyes like large green cylindrical spheres sitting on top of big brown vertical sticks.  As we came to a 4 way stop, we stopped at a stop sign I had never noticed before and I was excitedly pointing at it and spelling out the word STOP to my father.  Previous to that day, everything in my life was seen as a large blur, and now, miraculously, everything was crisply in focus and I was having the time of my life.  When a person thinks of miracles, this new pair of eyeglasses was my very first “miracle” made possible for me by a Doctor who had been blessed by God with the intelligence to become an Optometrist.  I was so grateful, I felt absolutely giddy over my new ability to see things that people with 20/20 vision took for granted.  Thank you God!  Thank you Doctor!  Thank you Mom and Dad!  I was SO happy and very, very grateful.

My second miracle came around the age of 16 years when I was fitted with my first pair of contact lenses. For years I had worn my old coke bottle thick lenses, and while I was still grateful that they made it possible for me to see the world in focus, I now wanted a way to see the world without the heavy frames and lenses sitting on my face.  I read about the newly invented contact  lenses and began to save my money.  This was going to be MY gift to myself paid for with my part time job. My parents could not afford to pay for this new frivolous way of seeing the world so I thought “The Lord helps those who help themselves.” 

I remember the day the Doctor showed me how to insert the contact lens into my eyes and saying “You will never be able to see well without optical devices, but these little lenses will allow you to see the world as if you were born with 20-20 vision.” No more glasses!  I put them in and as I walked out of the office, once again, my heart skipped a beat.  Hello World!  Look at me now!  I felt instantly freer and even a little bit prettier without my enormous glasses.  I also saw the world better because I was no longer restricted by eye glass frames that inhibited my peripheral vision. I loved my new world of seeing!

Now, I find myself back at the Ophthalmologist’s office, being made ready for cataract surgery. I have been 5 and ½ months out of my gas permeable lenses, but, thankfully, I have been allowed to wear soft contact lenses while my eyes adjust back to their pre-rigid contact lens shape.  One month before surgery I will see a retina specialist who will take a look at my astigmatism and retina to determine if he needs to do any laser correction before my actual cataract surgery to lower possibility of a retinal separation.  For 2 weeks before surgery I have to wear what I exaggeratingly call my “40 pound glasses” because of their weight and size. 

I am old enough to remember Mr. Magoo,  the cute elderly myopic cartoon character from long ago, and I have dubbed myself “Mrs. Magoo” because I, too, would most likely walk into walls, just as he always did in the cartoon, were it not for the help I have received from Doctors to be able to see the world.

I am nervous, but I am also very excited for this next step.  I am grateful to have been born in this country in this time and place where medical miracles occur all the time with God using the brains and hands of trained Physicians.  I am blessed.

I will be writing an update on how this next chapter goes on my journey to improved vision. 

Please pray for me!


Not a Joiner

I am not a joiner. People who meet me would find this hard to believe because I am friendly and talkative and enjoy spending time with others. But joining a scheduled formal group of people just does not come naturally for me. I don’t really care for group activities.

Yet, I like having friends and have had good friends for most of my life. Give me a cup of coffee and a friend sitting across the table from me and I am in my own kind of heaven.

I have often wondered why I am like this. I come from a very small town and was part of a very large extended family. Fitting in was never a problem because everyone knew everyone else since birth. There was an general acceptance for who and how we were because these traits were just present from the beginning.

Despite having all that family in close proximity, I found that my favorite activities were usually solitary ones. Reading was as important to me as eating was for sustenance. I loved reading biographies of people who lived long ago. I also enjoyed history and fiction. I enjoyed the act of reading so much that if I poured myself a bowl of cereal for breakfast, I would sit and read the box it came in for entertainment. I was happy and comfortable in my own skin.

I was very observant of my surroundings and how things were. The smells, the sounds, the taste of things. I enjoyed looking at all forms of architecture, noticing the smallest details. Without realizing it, these observations allowed for me to become a writer which was also a very fulfilling activity, albeit a solitary one.

I loved going for walks in the woods that surrounded our home, my senses taking in the smell of the dense undergrowth amidst the decaying leaves. I loved laying on my back on the floor of the forest and looking upwards, watching the suns rays being filtered through the leaves of the very tall trees. I enjoyed watching the insects flit around happily in their own little part of the world. I enjoyed listening to the murmuring evergreens as the wind rushed through their branches.

Growing up I had many friendly acquaintances and a few friends. I never felt a need to belong to a group of girls. I appreciated most of the girls I knew but did not like putting myself into a group where I was expected to take on a group approved opinion. One time, as a young girl, I witnessed a group decision that determined that someone was not up to the groups standards, and they decided to shun that person. I dropped out after that.

There always seems to be a pecking order in these gaggle of girls and I never understood the reason for this. Pecking orders within groups are stressful because it seems to put into place a preference of some over others. Nope, this isn’t for me. I have been asked to join many different groups over the years and have tried to be a part of these. Inevitably, I always ended up dropping out for one reason or another.

I can usually find something to like about most everyone I meet. I don’t need someone telling me who to like and who not to like. My opinion counts to me even while it may not matter to you. I like being free to go through life in a way that (MY spirit) guides me!

Those of us who are not joiners are not anti-social beings. Quite the contrary. At least I speak for myself when I say that I thoroughly enjoy socializing with others whom interest me. I just don’t have a need to fill my days with it. I like leaving room in my days to pursue my life long passion of reading, gardening, and writing. It does not take very much to fulfill my need of social activity. Actually it takes very little.

So…to my friends, both new and old, if you are in the mood to commune over a cup of coffee or a glass of iced tea, please feel free to give me a call. I love sharing world views with another person and am open to being shown another persons slant on things. So, you want a little time for one on one? Oh yes, yes indeed! But if you want me to join a group, I love and appreciate you for reaching out, but think I will pass.


Thank You to a FRIEND!

I recently was invited to a friend’s home for a light lunch. She and I have known each other for many years now, but we have always visited in the company of others. She is beautiful inside and out! She is intelligent, witty, lively, deep thinking, incredibly talented in designing just about anything, and can often physically orchestrate what she creates in her mind by her own hands.

In all the time we have known each other, we have enjoyed each other’s presence, but again it was most generally always as part of a group or gathering, be it small or large. We have been to each other’s home, but always in the presence of a few friends. Being invited one on one to her home was new because, again, this has not happened on the part of either of us suggesting it, despite the many years.

She was just finished with the remodel of her home. Let me be clear…her remodel and the “refreshing” my husband and I have been doing at our place lately are not even remotely in the same category. She and I have different size bank accounts, (we are long retired) and she and her husband are still enjoying an income, so for her, the redo was only limited by what she could imagine (and her imagination is limitless).

For us it was a matter of fresh paint and taking down old curtains to put up new. To my delight, as I was shown all her new applications (which, by the way, are drop dead gorgeous) I did not find myself feeling jealous or envious. I was just very happy for her. She did an outstanding job!

Through the years, and through all of our moves, I have been invited into all types and sizes of homes. I have seen some that are are a lot larger and more imposing than hers. But I have never seen a more beautifully appointed home! It was pure pleasure to walk around and see what she has accomplished. I don’t think there is one square inch of their home that did not have an updated look brought in. The things that remained from before were arranged a little differently and she has surrounded herself with all the things she loves best. It was a joy to just take it all in.

We sat down for lunch, and then afterward, she invited me into her sitting room to visit. She showed me a new painting on her wall which was beautiful in its simplicity and its soft lovely hues. I was surprised to hear her tell me that she had painted it. Later, as I was leaving, she told me she had painted another picture in her formal living space which was an appealing abstract. At this point, I turned to her and asked, “Do you spend a lot of time by yourself?” She paused and then said “Yes I do”. (Of course I knew the answer before she responded because, in order to create, every creative person needs time and space to do what they do, whether it is writing, painting, decorating, landscaping , or wherever a persons passion lies.) It was fun to realize that one thing we have in common is that we both paint. We just use different tools and my canvas is a lot larger. 😏

Earlier, as we were visiting over lunch, I told her how much I was enjoying our one on one conversation, and introduced the fact that I do not feel comfortable in large groups because no conversation goes uninterrupted, and no deep or profound thoughts are exchanged. It is just not possible. However,a lot of people in one room invites a person to meet new people that you would not have the opportunity to otherwise meet. This certainly is a positive that comes from a group gathering, so these gatherings do serve a good purpose. That said, it is not my preferred path to friendship. As she and I conversed, she shared in return that she felt much the same way as I do. We both love and enjoy people, we are both animated and gregarious when we are with others, but we both agreed that we only need so much of that. As I told her, my dance card is nearly full! I always keep a couple of dance slots open just in case another kindred spirit comes along and aligns with mine. We both love our quiet time at home where we can read, paint, write, decorate, landscape and just “be”.

Once I took my leave and arrived home, I was pleased to note that I was happy to be here too! It means I am content with my lot in life. She lives in a gorgeous home on a hill and I live in a lovely little cottage. We are both blessed.

She grew up in a similar background to mine in a small midwestern town. Her value system is much the same as mine. I love her mind, the way she expresses herself and I love her heart. I guess one could say our one on one visit went very well.

Long ago, in a different time and place, friends used to entertain in their homes. Women would sit down over a cup of coffee and share what was on their minds about families, friends, themselves and just life in general. People don’t do that so much anymore because it is easier to meet at a restaurant. This is unfortunate because communing with a friend in a home where one lives gives you a sense of who they are just by taking in their surroundings. It doesn’t matter who has what or who has more when you are with a friend. What really matters is that they are sharing a piece of themselves within their most loved of spaces, their home. This is where true bonding begins.

Thank you dear friend! You know who you are by now if you have read this. This, I think, is the longest thank you card I have ever written and is probably the longest thank you card in the history of thank you cards which is why it was not possible for me to write this out in ink on paper. But, hey! You can print it and save it for your rainy day blues box, right? I wrote it publicly because it serves as a message to others that sharing our inner sanctum is a symbol of opening our arms to a deeper friendship.

I thank you for all I have just now noted, but most of all I thank you for opening your home to me. Few of us do this anymore and I am grateful for your time and the sharing of your space. Sitting in your surroundings, I know you a little better now. I like you even more than I did before and that says a lot!

Love and hugs,


Grandpas house

Grandpa’s house was small and white and it sat upon a hill.

Flowers were growing happily in the ground which he had tilled.

On the front of his house was a small square porch with bushes at each side.

These were called “Bridal wreath” and their branches spread far and wide.

They arched up towards the heaven, then looped back down to earth.

To little white bouquets on its branches, each spring this bush gave birth,

Along the front side of the house, (the one that looked over a field),

Tall and swaying holly hocks gave colorful blooms their yield.

Outside the living room window, growing not very far from the road,

Grew a thick circle of tiger lilies, proudly bearing their load.

In the front of the house in a garden, not far from a low lying ditch,

Grew great big pink peony bushes in a black soil so moist and rich.

In the orchard grew some apple trees and each spring their flowers came.

If ever a blossom smelled sweeter, I just do not know it’s name.

But, as beautiful as these all were, there was one I loved the best.

It was a tall, tall bush that grew really big, much taller than the rest.

It was so big we created a house where inside we created a room.

We loved its perfumed fragrance and enjoyed its lavender blooms.

Nothing so much depicts Grandpas place as this giant lilac tree.

How it grew so tall and large still remains a mystery to me..

The house is no longer bright and white, it is old, faded and worn.

The flowers have gone back to Mother Earth and this I often mourn.

But no one can take away the memories I have of my Grandpa’s home.

These memories often bloom themselves and within my mind they roam.

So now as I am old and gray, as old as Grandpa was then.

Many scenes of lovely flowers come, through old memories my Grandpa sends!

Thanks Grandpa Art!


Be it ever so humble…..

It has been a wonderful morning so far. There is no place that makes me happier, nor any place I would rather be than in our own home. I have been enjoying the presence of my Mother and Grandmothers as I bustle about our kitchen making lists of things needed for Thanksgiving dinner. I have been eager to harvest the secrets of their culinary skills from long yellowed recipe cards written in their own hand, which I can incorporate into the preparation of our Thanksgiving dinner. Grandma Annie and Grandma Esther, both excellent cooks in their day, have each encouraged me to use my mother Anita’s recipe for her mouth watering meat preparations and my mother smiles in response to their praise.

Yes, all three are here with me now, but only in the spirit filled sense of things. Oh, how much I loved these three women and how very thankful I am to have been blessed with the gift of their presence in my life throughout the years of my youth. My appreciation for all things domestic grew and grew as I watched them perform their household duties. They were all so different in how they approached life and as a result of seeing this, I realized that life was lived differently from household to household. No child is more blessed than the one who is surrounded by generations of family because we learn to love so many different personalities with differing perspectives from different generations. I was raised in the “children are to be seen but not heard” style of child rearing and as a consequence of this, I became very visually aware of how things were done. What else was I to do during my silent observation of the adult lives around me?

There is no time where I feel my Mothers and Grandmothers presence more than when I am cooking an old fashioned meal. We are two days away from Thanksgiving and we have decided to toss the turkey to the wayside because of the labor intensive job of cleanup after dinner with deboning the turkey! I have never liked that job. So much for tradition..

So, that being said, my husband and I tossed around ideas for dinner, including maybe just having an appetizer and wine tasting affair, but when all was said and done, my husband, a former farm boy with taste buds leaning towards a hearty fare on the holidays, made the final decision. We went with a couple of meats which is where my Mother reigned queen of cooking. She was renowned for her ability to cook meat into mouth watering, fall apart, tender deliciousness and we decided that this is what we would attempt to do in her honor and for our guests delight.

Our guests are modern, weight conscious people who eat what is healthy and what is “good for you” most of the year. However, occasionally, they love to indulge in a meal that rarely exists anymore on anyone’s table. We will have roasted meats, mashed red potatoes, sausage stuffing and a side of gravy. Yup! GRAVY! There was never a holiday in my growing up years where the table was absent the gravy. So, gravy it is! Meat? We decided on my all time favorite meal of my Mothers which was her delectable braised beef pot roast. We also decided to have a porchetta roast which is an Italian seasoned pork we learned to enjoy when my folks lived in northern Minnesota. I am making the beef roast and Al is presently deep in thought over a recipe he pulled out. His assignment is to make the porchetta roast. In retirement, he has fallen in love with the art of cooking! So, much to my relief, we share the kitchen and cooking chores.

This morning, I have braised the beef and it is gently simmering in its juices on our stove top. I like to make the meat ahead so the flavors have time to deepen for the holiday dinner. We will make the rest of the food the morning of Thanksgiving. Al wants the house filled with savory aromas when our guests arrive.

Holidays can be tough times for people who are dealing with the loss of loved ones, either from death or divorce or distance separating them. Life is ever changing and we are forced to roll with the change, but recipes from times gone by bring to us memories of comfort that filled the stomach, the mind and the heart. I am savoring the rich browning scent wafting through the house and with this comes a magic carpet ride to memories of my maternal elders, even as it is me who is the elder these days. The child that grew up surrounded by these women looms large within me. Thinking of times spent with them makes my heart swell with a bit of wistful wishing to revisit how things were all those long years ago. This roast cooking on the stove brings me memories of long ago meals created in the homes of our long departed families. Often, while foods were cooking over a long period of time on the old stove, the result was steamed up windows in our kitchen, and we salivated in anticipation of the dinner to come.

These memories then resurrected other memories of life lived then. Memories of home made jams topped with a hard circle of wax sitting under the cover of the jam jar as a way of preserving them…hence they were called preserves. I remember carrying a pail attached to a belt around my waist as I picked raspberries alongside Grandma Annie. I remember the pressure cooker at Grandma Esther’s house with its hissing staccato sound as the heavy pot pushed steam out from under the heavy valve cover.

Another memory pops up……a memory of a weaving loom and mental imagery of the shutters flying while Grandma Esther pushed her rag cloth back and forth between two tightly secured lines of string. As she pedaled away, the two rows of string would grasp the rag cloth and she would then push a long rod tight against the fabric with a smack of sound before stringing more cloth through and pressing down on the pedal once again. It became rhythmic in its sounds. I listened to the rhythm, of push, smack, pedal, push, smack, pedal! At the same time, I watched a beautiful pattern appear in the textile she was creating.

Parents these days think children need to be entertained, which is this generation’s way of doing things. I have no objection to the modern way of things, but I am living proof that children can develop an appreciation for the beauty of memories wrapped in ordinariness. The lives of the families in my youth were not filled with the ongoing razzamatazz of special events. Rather, they were filled with the slower pace of life where a person had time to cultivate the wonder of things where we would have time to ponder and think without a lot of noisy interruptions. I loved the order of things then.

I appreciate now, more than ever, remembering the respect that was expected from everyone. Respect for our elders, respect for our neighbors, respect for people in positions of authority. There was an order to things and it was this order that gave us a feeling of safety and security. We also lived in a time where we were free to roam. Our days laid out before us and all that we were expected to do after our chores were done was to “find something to do or I will give you something to do!” This proclamation from our elders was the best incentive ever made for children to get creative with their days.

Well, enough reminiscing for now. I need to check my roast and we need to do some prepping for our other holiday dishes. One of our sons is a Chef, and a very good one at that, but he does love his Mothers holiday meals. His fiancee’ has come to love them too. Our daughter and husband are the same way when it comes to hearty home cooked meals. They are always so appreciative of us and everything we do. Speaking of incentives, this spurs us on!

Happy Thanksgiving to one and all! EVERY day is a day of Thanksgiving, and if it isn’t, it really should be! Be it ever so humble there is NO place like home! Praise God for our loving families where we first learned how to love the simple basic gifts of life like good home made meals that were created because of a love for our families and friends and with a nod of respect for our ancestors and heritage!


The child within

As I approach my 68th birthday, and as my husband turns 74 one month after that, we see that we are standing at the threshold to Old age….some would argue that we are well past the threshold to old age, but it is all in the perspective isn’t it?

I am a thinker.  I am also a writer, and I like writing down what comes to my mind during my thinking session at any given time.  Writing is therapeutic for me and it helps me sort out the good stuff from the garbage that accumulates up there from living this life.  I spend large amounts of time within my own head, visiting my past more and more as time goes on because there is so much history there and fortunately, in my history, I have felt the love of others.  My childhood was rich with the experiences of growing up in the woods and countryside of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan surrounded by a very large extended family.

Our family didn’t have excess of anything, but we did have “enough”.  We lived in a small house with small closets that were not packed full of clothes and shoes.  We each had one pair of everyday shoes and one pair of dress shoes. We had what were called “play” clothes or everyday clothes and a very few nice outfits for church and school.  We had one kitchen, one living room, one bathroom, (all small) and my only brother was the only one in our house who did not have to share a bedroom as my sister and I did and our parents.  We had a garage with one car.

We were all slender because while we had enough food (delicious home cooked meals) we did not have snacks anywhere around to eat in between meals, other than occasional baked goods. We never had soda in the refrigerator nor ice cream in the freezer unless a birthday was approaching.  There was not an over abundance of restaurants like there are now in these times.. There were basically NO restaurants within a 30 mile radius of our home. Fast food restaurants were unheard of.  In town, next to a gas station, stood a little commercial kitchen with a long counter and backless stools where you could sit and order hamburgers, cheeseburgers, fries and malts, but we never participated.  It was just not considered. As I think back, I don’t recall that this was unusual because we children just never questioned it.

Most people lived the same simple life as their neighbor because most were in the same socio-economic situation, yet we never felt deprived of anything. It also eliminated the sense of keeping up with the hypothetical “Jones’s” next door.  What we did have in abundance was family.  One did not have to look far to find someone to hang out with.  One movie theater was over 30 miles away and it was extremely rare that we attended, so our love of books grew exponentially.

As I walk around my memories of times past, simultaneously I find myself looking around my home at the overabundance of everything.  At our mature age, we have guest bedrooms that are rarely used with the exception of family visits from out of town.  We have two large gathering room spaces, one of which is rarely used. This is a beautifully appointed room which is lovely to look at and enjoyable to sit in,  but in all honesty, not something we really need to have anymore. As it turns out, we likely never needed it in the first place.. When we moved here, my husband wanted to build small, citing the cost of heating and cooling excess square footage and the cost of taxes that are paid on the same. Our nest was newly empty, with none of the children married, and I had big dreams of what was to come so I wanted to accommodate those dreams. Surely, we needed a lot of space for the future in-laws and multitude of grandchildren did we not?  I heard it said once, and I think of it often, that when you create dreams for yourself, you need to get the permission of those you put in those dreams because their dreams may be entirely different from yours.  So true!  As it has turned out, we have only two grandchildren who live as far north as we live south.  Our children are independent and self sufficient (thank goodness for these blessings) but these blessings also  mean they only have so much extra time on their hands and we are not the only people they want to spend time with.  We are happy and content with our life as it has turned out, it is just different from how we had imagined it.

So, we look around at all the beautiful things we once thought we just had to have and find ourselves wondering  “whatever are we going to do with all of this?”  We have consulted with the children and they are not particularly interested in any of our things.  Their houses are full of their own choices and we understand that.  We love our home and outside courtyard and outdoor grounds, but as time marches on, we understand that the more you have, the more you have to take care of.  How is it that those things you didn’t think you could live without end up taking up much of your precious limited time in the purchase, the care, the moving, and eventually the sale of it? I remember when we first got married, how little effort it took to move into our first house because there wasn’t that much stuff to move. With each successive move, the trucks got bigger and bigger and eventually the moves required hiring professionals to help wrap and pack and move!  Looking back, we realize that we have spent the first half of our life accumulating things, and now in  the second half or later, we are faced with getting rid of a lot of it.  We could have saved ourselves a lot of time and a lot of money.

The child within us just wants to play in the time we have left.  We don’t want to take care of a large house, or dust and vacuum unused rooms.  We don’t want to move mountains of dishes and glassware from cupboard to the table to entertain.  We just want to live with the freedom we once had in our childhood where all we really had was our little room with our comfy bed within a little house and family to love us.  How did we come to feel we needed so much more, only to discover we didn’t need it after all?

My husband and I are discussing our future and how we want to live it.  We made a list of other places to live and slowly crossed off each possibility until we realized that after 20 years of living here, THIS is home!  Home may not always be this particular house, but it is certainly this area where we are familiar with our church, friends, Dr., Dentist, library, post office, shops, and restaurants.  Recently, driving back home from a visit to our daughters place, we felt the usual sense of “coming home” as we approached the rolling hills and views of Lake Travis in the Hill Country of Texas.

At the end of the day, all any human being really needs are creature comforts….food when we are hungry, water when we are thirsty, a bed when we are tired, a fan when we are hot, a blanket  when we are cold, and the love of family. It is the love that makes us all want to continue our earthly journey, for without it we cannot exist.

Jesus said, “Come to me as little children” and the reason for this is so obvious.  Small children have small desires…and an acceptance of life as it is. Big children have bigger desires and lots of questions and so it goes. The quote “less is more” is truer than true, provided you have enough to sustain yourself, and provided that you are loved by at least one special someone in this world.  Love is the ultimate nourishment, for without it our spirit would die.

O.k….my child within is making a lot of noise about wanting to go outside.  It is a beautiful day here in Austin, Texas and I have big plans to sit under our giant oak tree swinging in our new rope swing.


(Above is a picture of me as a young mother holding two of my dreams in my arms)

Life goes on!


It has been quite some time now since I have written.  I have been busy living my life as life used to be before technology.  I have stayed off facebook and while I had a definite withdrawal going on at first, I eventually broke the habit of feeling the need to be on site every single day, several times a day. It was amazing how much of my life was freed up!  I stopped writing too.  That part was not part of the plan, but for  some unknown reason, I developed writers block.  The old familiar yearning to put my thoughts down onto paper just wasn’t there. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to write durng my little Reprieve from modern life.


I filled some of my time working on a satisfying improvement project In our kitchen which included the cabinets, counters and floor.  I had the pleasure of working with an incredibly talented carpenter. I was so impressed with his work, I told him he would even impress  Jesus (the carpenter) with his skills.  During this time we also painted…(walls not canvas’s) lightening up our surroundings a bit.  (I must admit I am beginning to feel an interest developing for that other kind of painting too.)

I have spent much more time with my  husband and in the process, realized yet again, how fortunate it was that our paths crossed so many years ago! I also had the time now to see my friends more, one on one, and face to face. I enjoyed time doing girl stuff with my daughter.  Little did I know what a wonderful lifelong friend she would grow up to be.  It has been nice!


My abandonment of technolgy and writing has lasted almost 4 months and I have found myself living more fully As a result. Just before I took a vacation from my facebook account, I politely explained to my fb friends about my need to take time off to break the social media habit. When I did, many of my fb friends came forward to say they would miss me, so I gave out my email address as a way for them to get in touch should they desire to do so.  In the time I have been gone, there have been a scant few emails…very few and I was touched to get them.


As time went on, this separation brought to mind the funeral of a friend who had died a sudden death at a relatively young age.  After the funeral, we all went out to the cemetary for the final goodbye and as we stood there listening to the Minister reading out of the bible, I heard an airplane flying overhead.  I looked up to see that big silver bird in the sky and thought about all those people flying off to various destinations for business or pleasure, unaware that yet another life had ceased to be.  I saw cars driving down the highway and bikers biking down the road.  I could see a couple of people visiting casually by a gravesite not very far away.  A baby was crying and a Mother was rocking and soothing her little baby.  All around us, life was presenting itself in its usual busy way, while the life force of this woman in the casket had ceased to exist. Only her closest loved ones noticed and grieved her absence. Life goes on!


A long time ago, my Mother and I were talking about the part of ourselves we call self.. We were not speaking of the egotistical side of self importance, but rather the way we all want to “matter” in this world.  We agreed that if we really understood how well people can get on without us, we might live differently.  (Naturally the exception to this is with our immediate loving family.)


She said to me, “The way I see things is this way…we simply are not as important to the scheme of things as we would like to think we are. This doesn’t mean we are of no importance.  We certainly do matter a great deal to some people..  But, I wish I had known earlier in my life that I could have lived with less restraint.  I would not have spent so much time being concerned about what others thought of me, because in all truth, other than family, people really don’t spend a whole lot of time thinking about me at all.   I think this is true for everyone. Whenever I think “I must do this or I must do that”, because of the need to please and because of a fear that something in life can’t go on without me, I make myself visualize a pail of water. If I put my hand down into a pail of water and then pull it right back out,  I can look for the impression my hand left behind, and to my neverending surprise, there is no evidence of my hand having been dipped in the pail. There is no impression left behind!   So it is with most of us.”


(Come to find out, so it is with me!) 😏

It was not her intent to minimize anyones value in this world to God OR to our loved ones. She simply meant to say that we should live our life with less fear of another persons opinion and with more appreciation for each new day we have been given. It shouldn’t matter what others think about what we do.  Life is a gift and it is best spent with a deep awareness of the value of this blessing  while following our inner spiritual voice.  We don’t get a second go around! This is it!  So we must live every day as fully and freely as we possibly can. This can mean something as ridiculously simple as being aware and grateful for our lifes breath, coming in and going out, and the miracle of that physical act!   Inhale!  Exhale!


So, upon leaving social media, I decided to give intentional living a whirl!   We quit our television provider and went back to an antennae…a little flat screen that you set in your window which draws the three basic channels, 3 PBS channels, Fox, and MSNBC.  We also get some random channels, Netflix and Amazon Prime, so there are plenty of viewing choices. We are much happier with less choices and no longer feel the former angst created by the news channels, all spewing bad news and MORE bad news.  (“Good news doesn’t sell papers honey” (or commercials).)


We don’t spend a lot of time passively and numbly watching the big screen in our bookcase. We have learned to use our mute button and enjoy using the off button on our television as well.  Old timey radio is our new thing, both music and stories. We also read books…..good books…the kind that make you sigh when you put them down because you are sad to be saying goodbye to the characters in the book who have become your friends.


We spent time sitting in the giant hammock chair swing we had installed a few years back for our granddaughters enjoyment when they come to visit.  Our inner child came forward as we pushed our feet into the dirt to move the swing to and fro and at times in circles, depending on its sway. We would lean all the way back and look up to the sky  and enjoy the beauty of the huge old oak tree branches gently swaying, at the same time we were swaying beneath a very blue Texas sky. “One with nature” came to mind as we did.


We talked to our garden as we watered it, pretending we were having our morning coffee with a friend.  Heck!  We WERE having our morning coffee with a friend, as we communed with our beautiful floral garden companions.


In this time off of social media I rediscovered a new “old” kind of peace in my life by revisiting the ways of my youth.  I grew up in an area where we had to make our own good time.  We were not passive receivers of the pleasures of life, rather, we were actively involved in LIVING our life.  We had the gift of time, lots and lots of time to discover who we really were and we communed with the heaven sent spiritual side of ourselves as we wandered through our days. image

Yes, I became familiar with that other part of me, which together with my human side makes me whole!


A long time ago, my husband made a comment to me that has stayed with me all these many years. He said he thought the definition of the Devil should  be “busy”.  He certainly got my attention with this so I asked him why he thought that way.  He said, “Well, if you stay busy all the time, you will have no time to “Be Still and know I am God” as we have read in the Bible. God asks us to be still so we can know Him!”


He was right about this in so many ways. His statement had a profound impact on me. When one thinks about it, if we are continuously busy, it makes it difficult to bond with our family or connect with our neighbor. If we are busy, we won’t have the time to spend with our children or a lonely family member who may be missing our presence in their life. If we are busy we won’t see the beauty that surrounds us, nor smell the perfume emitted from the flowers and trees, nor will we hear the sounds of nature, all a part of Gods creation.  Do you remember the whipporwhills of our youth? The frogs in the distant ponds?  The buzzing sounds of bees as we watched them flit from flower to flower? Do we hear them now? Do you take the time?

If our family schedules are full and busy, we will all have to eat at separate times or in our car as we are racing off to an event, rather than all gathered together around our table. If we are busy, we won’t have time for a snuggle or a hug or nice long back scratch, all of which are emotionally, spiritually and physically healing because we crave the caring human touch. These days, peoples lives are so busy they get angry at other drivers on the road because time is ticking ever faster and we are worried we will be late!  I don’t thnk the phrase “Road Rage” existed in my youth. We have wrongly come to believe that a full life is a busy life. Busy, busy, busy.  No time to call and talk, guess we’ll text, but we are too busy to answer that text. Huff! Puff! The earth sometimes feels like it is spinning so fast on its axis that we want to find the stop button so we can get off.


Getting off of that fast track is a bit unnerving because we are afraid we won’t  know what to do with ourself once we stop the insanity. With some of us, we  either never learned or perhaps have forgotton how to spend time alone….quietly….observing…..listening…..BEING.  God did not make a human “doing”…he made a Human Being, and I, for one, quite like the whole idea of “being”. Instead of “do it” all the time, sometimes I want to BE.


I was lucky.  I grew up in an era and area of no excess. We didn’t have excess anything. We didn’t have excess food, clothes, toys, or activities. We did not have an excess of friends.   We did have one thing in abundant supply and that was time. This time allowed us to think and imagine and dream and BE!  My husband grew up on a farm and had a similar background to mine where each day was not planned with the exception of farm chores.  The day unfolded.



So, if you ask me what I have been doing these last four months and If I reply “Nothing much”, don’t underestimate those two words. We have gone out to lunch and dinner a few times. We have sat in dark movie theaters enjoying the latest movie.  We have gone for long drives into the beautiful Texas countryside.  Most of our activities were not planned.  We let our days unfold like the days of our youth.


I have reaquainted myself with me!  I have relearned the art of living as a human BEING, versus a human doing!  I SEE the roses! I SMELL the roses and I can HEAR the bees buzzing around the roses!  I became rich during my reprieve….I took the time to acknowledge the wealth of Gods creation that surrounds me and understand it as one of His greatest gifts and most beautiful blessings.

I thank Him for it.



I understand That I may not have been missed during my absence…..and that is o.k.!   I almost forgot about social media too! 😇

Now I am back, but in a much, much reduced way.  I plan to write again and enjoy the catharsis of letting the words come out, if for no other reason than my own enjoyment. I realize that if I spend a lot of time reading about other peoples lives, I won’t have time to live my own, therefore, I am embracing the idea that with the time I have left, I should enjoy going where the spirit leads me and remembering that life is about the journey! 



Telling it like you see it!


In a culture where the emphasis, focus, and admiration is on the children,  is it any wonder why we see a lot of self absorption from that same human being when they grow up?  This isn’t meant to be a blanket statement claiming that all children are this way.  It simply points out the fact that IF the world has revolved around someone from the time they are born, continuing all throughout their years of growing up, then it would seem absolutely normal for that person to always think of themselves first.

When I was young, I was not anyone’s little darling.  There was no focus pointed directly at me. If anything, I was simply happy and felt fortunate to be part of a clan.  In those days, the focus was NOT on the children.  The children were taught to respect their elders. We were taught to be courteous and helpful to the adults in our lives where the reward for our efforts were often just simply and quietly acknowledged with small verbal comments…..

 “You did a good job today, little one!”  

“You have such nice manners, young lady”.  

“No one works harder than you do when you put your mind to it.”  

“You are such a good boy”.

These praises were hard earned and consequently cherished.  Life was mostly about our ACTIONS versus our EXISTENCE.  Praise was never given unless you earned it.

In a room where there were not enough chairs for everyone, it was understood that the elder got the chair, while the child, being wiry and flexible, could sit on the floor if necessary.  If the table did not accommodate everyone, then another table was set and deemed “the children’s table”.  The children didn’t mind it at all because they sat with their contemporaries, but as they did so, they had their eye on the “adult table” happily knowing that someday, they would graduate to that table.  It was something to look forward to…when they grew up and became an adult.

in my youth, as children, we understood that our life was about living within a hierarchy where pleasing the adults often merited rewards.  The reward may only be a smile and a word of praise for something we had done well. While parents were never pleased to hear about bad behavior on the part of their children, they generally thanked the messenger and said that the situation would be dealt with.  They knew that other people saw their children in a way they may not see them, so these opportunities were used as a teaching tool.  The children learned quickly that the adults were all on the same “side”,  teaching morals and principals to the children. What we learned from this as children, we could use ourselves one day to teach our own children.

These days, and in this culture, all too often the trend has been quickly gravitating towards pleasing the children.  An observation of a child’s bad behavior being transmitted to the child’s parent may not be accepted well because they may feel offended and defensive,  which is a lost opportunity for a growth in character of a child.

There is nothing that pleases me more than seeing a parent look at the reality of who their child is.  No child is perfect, even if the parent would like to think so.  If a child had been created to be perfect, God would not have included parents in their life as guides and teachers.  All parents should love their child but in a way where that child understands that they are a small part of a universe, not THE universe.

Recently, I had the opportunity of having a parent come to my door with his son to offer an apology for the son having trampled through my garden while playing ball.  I hadn’t been aware any damage was done until they stood there and told me about it.  We went to have a look and they were right….it was pretty badly trampled.  The boy AND his father were so remorseful,  it was a pleasure for me to be able to say,

“Don’t worry about it….it will all grow back.  However, what your father has done here is most impressive.  He wants you to learn to respect other people and their property and wants you to take responsibility for what you have done.”

 The boy looked in surprise at his father, and then the father said, “what can my son do to help rectify the damage?”.  

I said, “Well, maybe he can help me clean up the broken plants, so he can see what all this trampling did….”.  

The father agreed, and the boy came to help me clean up the area.  It took a while, but it really opened this boys eyes to the damage running and trampling can cause, even if he wasn’t aware of it at the time. His father did not say “he didn’t mean to do it”.  The father said, “this is what happened and he is here to try make amends”.  He was telling it like it was!  As a result of his honesty, he earned a heaping helping of MY respect in the process.

What impressed me about this father-son lesson was that this lesson could have been missed entirely.  The father could have seen what happened and just ignored it. I wouldn’t have know what happened when I finally came upon it.  it was unintended damage as the result of child’s play, but you can bet that when the son is out playing ball next time, he will have a brand new consciousness and respect for other peoples property.  The father did his son a favor.

Telling it like it is…..I wish more parents would be so brave as to know that it is in the child’s imperfect behavior where the best lessons are learned!