Category Archives: Children

The Round Table: Part 4 in “Old Tables and Old Times”

12 Monday May 2025

Posted by in Children, Family, MONDAY MUSINGS

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Roundtable discussions “are informal gatherings characterized by equal participation, active listening, and the exchange of ideas…roundtables encourage a more open and interactive dialogue, often facilitated by a moderator.” That’s what the internet says. In a child’s world, it is an endless sphere of participation (play-like or real), activity (of reaching, climbing, circling), and interactive ideas (imagination as troops and trucks run their courses of construction and destruction).

As the 1960s were ending, people were starting to see the value in antiques. Not museum people with historical antiques – regular Joes who had the new age, moderate-income, furnishings of the 50s and 60s. Such was the time when my mother was led to an auction by her friend whose son had gone into the “antique business”. Looking for old gems hidden by dust and paint, in need of some repair perhaps, became the weekend hobby for many. Sadly, folks were realizing grandparents had given up real value for light weight, inexpensive furnishings. In my family’s case, fires had taken most of the keepers, and the thought of finding something similar, was enticing. One find for my mother and her friend that day, was a sizable table covered with what we called antiquing, which was enamel paint covered by a dark glaze. Covered in, I believe, early 70s green, with a small chip out of one hinged area, was a coffee table with leaves dropped to the floor, which when raised, made a complete circle. A drawer in each end made the table even more useful. Mama bought it. And the seven grandchildren of her future benefitted from the purchase in the many decades to follow. Her great grandchildren, as well as friends, continued to find pleasure in the playground of the roundtable world. I am so thankful the table was saved from the fire that took my parents’ home in 1978.

Before the round table went to live at my parents’ house, her friend had her son to “strip and refinish” it. This brought out the beautiful solid maple finish of its original state, which is still its condition today – plus the many scratches, dents and wear of four generations since then. I believe my son was the first to put a scratch in Granny’s lovely table, with a toy (seems like it was one of those little silver-colored pistols, but could easily have been one of the hundreds of little animals that have trekked the terrain of the table land; he thinks it was his Hot Wheels racing). My daughter stashed “office papers” and crayons in the drawers as she opened and closed them a thousand times in her world of teaching and office work.

Next came my sister’s first child, a girl, who I am told, turned a long handled bell (another of Mama’s collections) upside down and hammered it into the table top several times. Sister’s second child, a boy, added his own marks of character, playing many sessions of Old Maid; as well as adding his sons (you see the younger one on the table in the photo above), to the activity of his Nanny Betty’s/Aunt Trisha’s table. I recall my brother’s first daughter especially enjoying the Christmas trinkets and music boxes Granny placed on the table. By the time he had more children coming along, Mama had passed the drop-leaf table on to me, and redecorated her living room. How in the world did she have the courage to place a new glass-topped table at child level? Surprisingly, it did survive. OH! That’s right, it wasn’t a round table. Far less activity could be had with four corners in the way, a smaller surface, and – like the glass-bottomed look-out towers – who can put their weight on something that looks invisible?

In my house the old drop-leaf round table continued to supply new ground for race cars, farm equipment, horse racing, army battles, board games, play-doh creativity, coloring and painting, checkers, and climbing in general. Six of my great nieces and nephews have made their own history of discoveries, battles, and masterpieces on the round table. Our friend ‘little man Ryan’ had his own activity for a short while before potty training, but we will just leave it at that. He also drove Match Box cars around and around that table, giving me great pleasure as my mother’s table continued making happy days for those we love.

I see the days of discovery for our round table coming to a close. I do hope the “informal gatherings characterized by equal participation, active listening, and the exchange of ideas” continues over this, as well as all our tables, for years to come. But it was the endless imagination of those tots who made this table so precious to me. Complete with its dents and dings, one drawer now out of function, and one detached slide-out leg that holds the leaf on that side, I have plans for repair and passing it on to someone who appreciates solid value. It is truly vintage now, and due to age, likely could soon be antique, but surely has some good days ahead in her. She now holds books, pens, and the trappings of an avid John Deere man. She comfortably holds the weight of great nephews; she doesn’t mind our feet being propped upon her, nor popcorn, coffee cups, and sippy cups.

Well, my coffee has grown cold but I have enjoyed my short trip back over the 55 or so years since my mother brought the round table home. Her own nieces and nephews will testify that she had a roundtable approach to life that carried over into the grandchildren years. If she loved anything, it was children and watching them learn. Imagination spurs learning and she was delighted to turn her house over to them to grow and learn all they could. Her love surrounded them as they surrounded the table; her guidance encouraged them as they found acceptance and inspiration to be their best. I look at the softly curved feet of the table, the scratches and dents, the missing pieces; and I long to see a world that is as willing to sacrifice parts of itself for the good of others; a world that is strong for its children and softly holds them when they need it; a world like its Creator intended it to be.

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. (Galatians 6:2) NKJV

Daisies In The Ditches

16 Tuesday May 2023

Posted by in Children, Faith, inspiration

≈ 1 Comment

MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA
MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

May 2023: The following is edited from my original 2016 post (and I shuddered when I read my 7 years ago post where I left out the chapter information for the reference to Luke!)  As our daisies are again blooming in a sitting area; and as the little girl of this story has grown now to a teenager, I’m reminded of “the more things change, the more they stay the same”.  The sweet neighbors are moving away this week;  the children are young adults; my daisies have moved from the road.  Yet, they are still daisies. Relocation doesn’t change the essence of who we are. People relocate; yet they do not move out of our hearts. A friend is a friend, whether near or afar. Love is still love, wherever you are.

“Megan, where did you get these?” her mother asked. Being a typical six-year-old, the little girl hadn’t thought it important where, just that they were pretty, and would no doubt make her mom happy. Isn’t is great how little ones say “I love you”?

Later in the week,  during a visit to our house, Megan’s parents revealed to me how their daughter had come in from riding bikes with her big brothers, holding a nice bouquet out so proudly for her mom. Upon being asked, she stated the flowers were just growing out in the ditch! Her parents looked cautiously at each other, not wanting to dash her delight, and queried further. “Megan”, they explained, “flowers like these do not just grow wild; exactly which ditch did you pick them from?” “Well, you see, they are down by Mrs. Ward’s mailbox” Megan said, and was then gently informed that sometimes people plant things on purpose by their mailboxes. At this point in their story, Megan began squirming sheepishly, so I quickly let her off the hook. “Well, at least your mom got one nice bouquet out of them!”,  I said with a wink and a smile. She hopped down from the bar stool and ran out chattering something about her next venture. Oh dear God, if only we could all be so open to Your possibilities; Your grace; and so easily redirected when we stray.

I was thinking later about the child and the daisies, and wondered if we, as Christians, share Jesus as little children share flowers. What made Megan stop, look, consider, and partake? I’m thinking of accessibility, desirability, and perhaps the practicality of it.

I’m pretty sure that if I’d planted the daisies only in a bordered flowerbed, the sweet child would have never touched them. She’d have recognized the border as hemming in someone’s possession, and would probably have been too shy to ask if she might pick from them. But these were visible and accessible. Do we tend to keep our Jesus and His words and love behind the church doors; neatly tucked inside a pretty bound bible of perhaps the latest version? Do we keep them hidden within our hearts, where they certainly must begin to take root of course, but out of which they must grow beyond self and into the world. (I should say from the start that I am thinking, and now write to myself first;  for I am most guilty of seeking and finding….and then keeping instead of sharing!)  In His teachings given to us in the book of Luke, chapter 14, Jesus points out that there are people in the “streets and lanes” (verse 21) and “highways and hedges” (verse 23) who are to be invited into the feast in His kingdom. Matthew records His words in chapter 5 where He tells us our lights must not be hidden (verses 14-16), but placed with purpose upon a lamp stand, illuminating goodness, and giving glory to God. To please the host, God, we must make the feast, His precious word, accessible.

The daisies were desirable to her; like she said, “They were pretty”.  What makes Christianity desirable? That is, what looks so good about following Christ that others want to follow? I think we all agree it is not when we distort Christianity with the panes of judgmental attitudes, bigotry, and hypocrisy! We are told how Christianity should look in Galatians 5:22-23. Here we read the beautiful fruit of the Spirit listed. I am convinced that if we are busy living out these fruit, namely ‘love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control’,  there will be no time nor tolerance for the awful things that should never be named among God’s people.  Additionally, a prophet of long ago stated “He has shown you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8) That is absolutely one of my favorite scriptures, so simply stated. Who would not be attracted to justice, mercy and humility?

Practically speaking, what made more sense than to see flowers, pick a bunch, and take to mom, showing her rather than telling her “I love you”. We see something which reminds us of someone, and provided we can afford it, we buy it, package it pretty and can hardly wait for them to open it! My first blog post told of the blossom in a teacup given to me by my toddler many years ago. I still remember, because he cared enough to pick it (and many more afterwards) and give it to me. When John Dale was our pulpit minister, he often said, “you just start where you are” as he encouraged us to follow Christ, to share His teachings. See the flowers. Pick the flowers. Share the flowers. It’s the only practical way. See it, appreciate it, share it. Megan didn’t need a special purchase order, a price list, or permission to do a good deed. Life is a constant learning experience. So waiting to be perfect will only serve as one of those flower bed borders, foreboding and forbidding. Christ taught us that the greatest love is to give. After giving Himself for us, His last commandment before sitting down at the right hand of God, was to His disciples – to go. Teach. Baptize. Share. Love in word and deed by picking his gospel flowers and giving them away. There is no better way to say “I love you” than to share something precious to you.

Again a child has given me a posy to ponder. Thank you Karen Opferman for letting me quote your child.

I pray that in sharing these thoughts you’ve found a couple of seeds to take with you; one to bloom within your heart and one to bear blossoms for sharing.

 

Fake Lakes

13 Monday Jun 2022

Posted by in Children, MONDAY MUSINGS

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , ,

“Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil. Cling to what is good.” (Romans 12:9)

Few things are as inspiring as young children whose efforts to try on life are just down right funny and at the same time, may slap a helping of practical onto our pretense. Several such ‘little’ inspirations were provided lately, one being a delightful visit from my niece Sara and her preschool boys. To begin with, as if their big blue eyes and chubby cheeks weren’t adorable enough, they came in proclaiming just how happy I must be for them to be here! Yes, I was, actually, and so why, pray tell, do we adults often act almost apologetic for showing up at someone’s door? It was so heart-warming to know they fully expected me to be happy.

As with every single little person who has ever been in our house, these boys too, discovered the joy of our Smurf Ahoy game. Now, in case you’ve never seen one, its container is a 12 inch square cardboard box about six inches deep, swimming pool-blue inside, and a cardboard ship is balanced over this blue “ocean”. The object is to see how many smurfs you can place on the ship without tipping it over and spilling the smurfs into the “water”.  As you might imagine, two and three year olds think it’s much funnier when the objectives are ‘how fast can I tip the boat’, and ‘how loudly can I call out the color on the spinner’? Totally unconcerned with any status of being winner, they simply thrust themselves into it, often literally.  Jameson, the younger lad, decided to “get in the lake” himself and proceeded to squat over the box. Stopping him just in time, we explained it was only a pretend, or fake lake. As they continued spinning the little arrow for another smurf move, my mind was spinning about fake lakes, and the precious lens of honesty through which children view the world. As I picked up the fake apple Jameson had been carrying around from my kitchen bowl of wax fruit, I felt kind of bad, you know, like – are these children going to decide this is a house of fake; a game with fake water,  a beautiful apple you can’t eat, and plastic grapes that disappoint as well? Lord, help me be a transparent person with real ears for listening; real vision for seeing needs; real boldness to speak truth, all wrapped in real love. Never let me lose my real zeal for making ‘joy’ a genuine full-to-the-brim lake splashing with praise.

In so many ways we grow out of thrusting ourselves into the fun of life, and choose instead, the fake lakes where you’re safely neat and dry, concerned with appearance and refinement, though it may be a veneer to hide our inner child. Oh, I get it – manners are important and it is necessary we learn to use a filter so as not to offend. These are valuable issues that should come with maturity. But children show us what we are missing when we over extend these traits and cast a shadow over the richness of excitement for life. One example I’ll never forget is a side-by-side ride about a decade ago, with great nieces Katja and Izzy and our side-kick Ryan. Ready for the end of a busy fun (but long) day, I was concerned with getting everyone safely back to the house; but not Katja! “Wow, Aunt Trisha, look at that sunset!” If not for her unending zeal I’d have missed that one. I take for granted the shared appreciation of sunsets and butterfly kisses, instead of proclaiming aloud the joy in case someone missed it. (Thank you Janette DeWitt for being a sunset sharer.)

Back to the ‘who-cares-who-wins’ attitude so important to having fun, I got to watch a T-ball game this summer where three year old Jack, another great nephew, was playing. After 199 times of telling me he wanted to go to my ‘howwss’ it was his turn to run the bases. As soon as he crossed home plate, he turned, pointing to me through the fence, and yelled, “I wanna go to your howwss!” My heart soared! Home run! May we all be so persistent in letting others know, including God, how much we love spending time with them. “Let all those who seek You rejoice and be glad in You;” (Psalm 70:4)

Little kids are the ones who reward you with exploring all around your house in wonder. We adults are way too cool, scarcely letting our eyes wander, afraid to actually show genuine interest; and after all your hard work to make it interesting! I know, manners and all that. Next time I visit though, I’m going to ooh and aah the way I really feel anyway. (smile) One day when Ryan DeWitt was about five, he asked to hear my antique Victrola play a record. Seems like it was “How Do You Talk to an Angel?” Anyway, as the speakers scratched out a tune, little Ryan looked up at me and the blue-eyed gent asked me if I’d like to dance. LIKE??? Oh my stars, he made my day!! You never know who may just be teetering between up or down, and your invitation to dance could make all the difference. Go ahead and ask, or pick a dandelion, or hold their hand. Make their day.

The children have nailed it with food too.  I’m always forgetting to offer the ice cream, or I leave the deviled eggs in the refrigerator, and guests are so polite they’d rather do without than say a word. Kids are great. They just say, “hey, you got any cookies?” and if you don’t, it’s no big deal, they just check for the next best thing, like “how about ‘nabanas’ or “pasghetti” as my nephew’s little boy, Grayson, used to ask. Always have bananas, and chocolate chip cookies on hand so you can look smart. Especially if a couple weeks earlier you served tossed salad to a group of girlfriends and forgot to set out the dressings until everyone was eating and your sister asked for them. (;

When great niece Izzy was at the ‘fort-under-the-dining-table’ age, she and our neighbor’s little girl were dragging quilts through the house to make their hide-out. One particular quilt is reversible, and I suppose Izzy had just never noticed the pink floral side to the quilt that covered her in the guest bed. Even in her excitement of building their cotton covered table fort, she suddenly stopped mid-stride, and looking down onto the never before seen side of her quilt, she exclaimed, “Oh Aunt Trisha, that is so pretty!” Do I take time to stop amid my busy task-filled days to give an honest compliment to someone’s accomplishments? (No, I didn’t make the quilt; it’s old, and I sure wish whoever did make it could have heard the totally honest praise!) Kids don’t mind that you’ll infer they do not have a pink floral quilt, or a blouse as pretty as yours. They just pile on the praise when they notice, and want to show appreciation. How many times I pass up the pause in stride to add a little sweetness to someones day!

Then there’s the departure. We say something like “well, I’d better get going now” or “I’ve hindered you long enough” as if our presence could be a problem or something. Not little kids! They make sure you know how much they like being there by flat out refusing to leave with mom. “No! I wanna stay” accompanied by tears, erases any question you may have had about your guests feeling at home. If however, they’ve had enough and want to go, they just say so, without pretense. And this day, Sara’s older child, Colt, walked up to my husband’s recliner, and leaning toward him, asked “do you wanna hug me bye?” Mercy, how sweet can they be? Open, honest, forward – no fake stuff there. I’ve said for several years that life’s too short to be fake. The littles in my life are living proof. Perhaps here is a compromise between the two departure style: Well, I’ve loved our time here together, but we both have grown-up stuff to get done, so until our next meeting…

God offers living water, never fake, which nourishes our souls all day long.  Drink deeply and do as He does – never offer fake lakes. 

“Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Jesus, in Matthew 18:3)

NICE DAY Part 5: Sweet Things

20 Monday May 2019

Posted by in Children

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

“Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.” Proverbs 16:24

As we’ve all agreed, children can say and do the cutest things; from embarrassing to enlightening, we never know quite what’s coming next. Their words may not be exactly wise as we think of wisdom from ages of experience, but they are so honest that their words are like sparks off the flame of wisdom. They are often observant of the little details we miss, while we’re looking at the big hurried picture.  And just when we need it most, they wrap a bad day in a nougat filled chocolate shell that we carry in our hearts for days.

My daughter was blessed with a pretty smile, not too big, not at all small like mine, just right. Someone once told her she had a nice big mouth (whatever that meant) to which she bristled and announced, “Uh-uh! My mouff is nittle nike my Mama’s!” (Interpretation: my mouth is little like my…)  Oh my! What a compliment when your beautiful little girl wants to believe she is just like her mother. It was sweet to my soul to know it never bothered her that my mouth wasn’t what society says is the going thing.

As you might guess, Stephanie had a little speech thing going on until first grade. You’ve no doubt heard that children learn what they live, so we never made fun of her speech, but instead found it rather charming and she learned acceptance in the world rather than bitterness. Her world was made up of a big brother, parents, and boy cousins. It was rare that she had girls to play with until school days, so the thought of getting to go where there might be girl peers was exciting for her. Before online shopping, Stanley and Tupperware parties were a common thing, especially for young moms who hadn’t already accumulated fifteen of everything. One evening as I prepared to attend a Stanley (or some product) party, I offered as I always did to take her with me, or would she rather stay home. Her sweet answer said she was thinking “what’s in it for me?” but was it cookies? No. Nor was it cake or punch. It wasn’t the games she had observed either. And, she’d probably had enough of Mommy for the day. Her question was “Will dem be any nittle gills dare Mama?” (Will there be any little girls there?) Companionship with peers is what she wanted. I told her I really couldn’t say, to which she replied, “OK, I wanna go with you anyway”.  People obviously mattered most to her, even if it was just her Mama. I suppose if I’d been looking closely, really seeing, I could have predicted that she would be in public relations as a career. I think it would be a nicer world if we grownups looked at every opportunity through the eyes of friendship more than materialism.

One more little Stephanie moment: a moment of calling her daddy out on a technicality. Somehow, he managed to take us out for a restaurant meal about every two weeks, and his favorite was fish. Our little girl always filled up quickly and felt the need to stretch out, so it wasn’t unusual to see her lying across my lap and her chair while we finished our meal. But sometimes she had to wait until we were home and stretch out across her daddy in the recliner. One such recliner evening followed a nice pizza meal, but daddy’s full tummy denied her stretch across his lap. Out of habit, his response was, “Honey, daddy’s full of fish”, to which she cried, “But daddy! We had pizza!” She intended to keep him honest, if nothing else, as if that nulled his excuse. Technicalities!

Another little sweetie pie around five years ago, was chattering to her baby doll and following me around the house. At age three or four, she was oblivious to my quickly changing clothes. All at once she looked up mid sentence and gasped, “Aunt Trisha! You have on pretty panties!” I think she never expected anyone but little girls to have pretty designs on their undies. She went right back to playing without missing a beat, and as I said “Thanks”,  I thought how much more observant children are than we think; and way more honest than we may want them to be. How many moms have turned red because their word was contradicted by the great knowledge of a four or five

My girl
Aunt Trisha’s sweetie
Little Man Ryan

year old? Their innocence makes their eyes sparkle; their appreciation for small things dresses them in excitement. Their humility makes them say things like “that’s okay” and really mean it if you step on their toes or forget a promised bowl of frozen blueberries. They love everybody, without prejudice. Thank you God.

My final ‘sweet thing’ memory for this post is of the only young man who has ever asked me to dance. Talk about no prejudice, who but a four year old would ask a much taller girl going gray, without makeup, in old play clothes, to dance? I have (a gift from my husband many years ago) a crank up RCA Victrola which plays the old 78 records and the volume is controlled by how open or closed the doors of the cabinet are. As a toddler, Ryan was fascinated by the crank handle. After learning that some fun music from the 30’s could be heard, he would ask me to play it for him. My reward one day, for obliging him was the sweetest, as he opened the Victrola doors wide, held out his hand and said, “wanna dance?” We waltzed around my living room to “How Do You Talk to an Angel”  in a cloud of happy. Years later at a wedding reception, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and a much taller pre-teen Ryan asked me again, though more shyly, “do you want to dance”? My heart soared around the room even though the music stopped by the time we’d barely begun to dance. Consideration for an old friend cannot be overrated!

Friends, if we want to sweeten the souls and bring new life to old bones, just speak sweetly, and honestly. Consideration, compliments, and kindness go a long long way!

 

NICE DAY, Part 4: Angry Words Do Not Make Nice Days!

06 Monday May 2019

Posted by in Children, MONDAY MUSINGS, Reflections

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , ,

I think the first child’s antics are more surprising because young parents have no idea! No. Idea. At that stage, we haven’t even counted as high as the number of emotions, trials, and tests we’re about to encounter. Everything your first baby says and does is amazing and funny because, hey, you haven’t heard it before. And no matter how many others do the same things, you still laugh, because it really is funny! I never get tired of remembering ours, and hearing about others’ memories as well. While remembering the cute things kids have done and said is heart warming and good, I wonder if I am the only one who may once in a while, find those memories followed by an unpleasantness that doesn’t belong there. I’ll explain later.

Our son was our first born, surprising us one evening with an early labor, in breech position, arriving at 9:20 PM. He has been a late nighter ever since, and a late riser as well, so the sun was always up before he was. Even still, the bed and breakfast were about all he wanted of the house. As soon as he was tall enough to see out the window, he checked the weather first, and then would report to me, “It’s a shine-shiny day out, Mama!” Interpretation: I want to go outside. See, what this kid knew was that the indirect approach worked so much better that the direct. A bedtime fighter, he found any excuse he could to resist bedtime routine. I had to pin him to the floor to brush his teeth, while he sputtered, “But my lips are reflexive!”, followed by “I wanna watch Gonny Cawson (Johnny Carson)! As if! When he wanted to go fishing a few years later,  rather than beg to go, he tied a construction paper fish to a stick and held it out the door as I was coming inside. Written on it was “I got an itchin’ to go fishin’!” Sly little dude. Next came fifth grade, with Mrs. Pittman’s rule of  ‘no locker opens after class starts’…did I mention he procrastinated other things as well as bedtime? To see Dora Pittman tell this is quite funny, as she slides one arm slowly back, leaning ever so slyly toward an imaginary locker to retrieve a book that should have been out of there before the bell rang! Some 30 years later, she still calls him her ‘locker boy’.

Yes, memories are fun…but sometimes it gets painful. There’s a little black-caped masked demon about an inch tall that occasionally comes slinking into the picture of a good memory, and it’s name is Regret. I hate that imp! He messes with my mind, and if I give him any attention, he starts growing until he is bigger than the picture. That’s the unpleasantness I was referring to earlier. I’m guessing there is a trigger for almost anyone to be reminded of their failures, for we all have some sort of regrets I’ve been told. For me, the trigger is remembering my kids’ childhood which makes me ask, why is such an awesome responsibility placed into the hands of the inexperienced?? Now, I know most of you were nauseatingly good, patient, creative parents; I mistakenly thought I was at the time. Let me just cut through the chase and bare my blisters: CHILDREN WERE NOT MADE TO BE YELLED AT. There. That is my regret. I grasped at the details and missed the big beautiful picture. Math problems, tooth brushing and choosing which toy to take, should never be a source of pain or anxiety. These everyday life things can create havoc, or heaven. The things that we think must be done should never override patience and gentleness. I was given the most precious gifts on earth, and I let them and the Giver down when I lost control and yelled. Mamas and Daddies, no one else would tolerate our ill tempered yelling, so why dish it out on the very ones who love and trust us to be their Rock? Seriously, they need more good memories, not more math; calm evenings more than clean teeth; and the time it took to choose which truck to take with him could have been spent planning supper, or tickling him into a decision. I wonder how many times he was about to make a choice when I again, called “would you come on now!” Oh how that dastardly bandit Regret can run off with your fun! But, God is good, and has forgiven me. My children say there’s nothing to forgive or forget; they say they had a great childhood. The problem lies within where forgiveness does not come easily for ourselves. I’m working on it, but I still hate those angry words that messed up good days.

“If a person thinks himself to be religious and does not bridle his own tongue, but deceives his own heart, his religion is useless.” (James 1:26)

Lest I leave the impression that I was a total monster, I do have a memory of handling things well. This son of ours has an artist streak in him that was once used on the refrigerator, in crayon. I actually had a roll of film in the Kodak, and it makes a cute photo when a toddler is cleaning the refrigerator in his training pants. I think he was as proud of his job of removing the masterpiece as he was of making it.

cleaning up artwork
sneaking M&Ms

Happy Monday, stay calm, and make it a nice day! Go ahead and sneak a few M&Ms:)

 

 

 

NICE DAY Part 2: Umbrellas and Flashlights – Up In the Basement

08 Monday Apr 2019

Posted by in Children, MONDAY MUSINGS

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

Umbrella Girl

 

On this rainy day, I am reminded of my little Umbrella Girl. My brother had brought his wife and 2 yr old daughter back from North Carolina, where they lived while he was in active duty with our United States Marines. Trying to get settled into our grandparents’ old home in Jones’ Mill, TN and start a farming operation, didn’t leave a great deal of time right then to play with a tot like their inquisitive Sara. One pretty day Aunt Trisha drove down to take that little golden-haired girl home to play. We hadn’t had a toddler in our family in a while so I’d about forgotten how sharp their little minds are. About five minutes out of the driveway, an unexpected spattering of raindrops fell onto the windshield. I must have said something like “would you look at that?” Sara, sitting in the front seat (no there wasn’t a whole lot of concern 26 years ago about car seats) with her little legs straight out in front of her, cast those big eyes up at me and said in a most grown-up way, “And ya haven’t gotcha umbrella!” Exactly right. I did not carry an umbrella for unexpected showers. How did she know? I have, since then, carried a small umbrella in the front glove compartment. There have been several “cloud bursts” in life, some for which I was not prepared; I have since then carried in a compartment of my heart, encouragement from God’s Word, to cover and protect. “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28 NKJV)  Yep! We may not see it coming, but God sees all, and knows those who love and trust Him, and He will take our storms and make them work for our good. We have God’s Word on it; that’s our umbrella.

MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

Flashlight Sisters

Another story of being prepared was spurred by a sweet conversation between my two great nieces about five years ago.  If you have read my January 11, 2014 post titled “The Cream in My Coffee: A Tale of Two Sisters, then you know this story. The girls were overheard by their grandparents discussing their order of birth. The older, Katja, had told her little sister, Isabella, that after she had been “cut out of Mommy’s belly” the younger had later been placed there and was born, having in the meantime been in “God’s imagination”. (Be still my heart!) This did not set well with little Isabella! With a quivering voice she replied that “it was dark in Mommy’s belly” and that she should have been given a flashlight! It was her opinion that they should have been there together in the first place, to prevent her from feeling afraid. We can rest assured however, that being in the mind of God with His plans for us, we do not need a flashlight. David wrote, “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?…” (Psalm 27:1)

Kids really do say the funniest things; they are so honest and open. They aren’t concerned with being politically correct; pulling no punches, they want us to understand them in no uncertain terms. Little Micah Simons was proof of that this morning in the church nursery. She told us “No” several times when offered the wrong book or toy – she wasn’t letting anything get in the way of her own agenda! I loved watching her take care of her doll on her own terms! But sometimes they get their terms a bit mixed up. Alan is my brother’s third child, and could say some of the cutest things, most of which didn’t make a lot of sense, but gave us so much fun!

MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

Making funny faces.

I recall at age four (which by the way, is the BEST age for conversation) he sat with me on our front porch and asked life questions, like “just what is a ‘hickernut’ Aunt Trisha”, and “how will we bust ‘um?” and “why are they on the ground?” Alan is still trying to get this life thing figured out, like we all had to, so what I recall him saying later that day fits him perfectly. We had just moved into our new house, and he and sister Emily were visiting. I showed them the attic, complete with some really great toys left over from my kids’ childhood. The day being a nice autumn temperature, they had some time to play up there. Later, he asked me if he could go “up in the basement” to play again. We never had a basement, nor had one been mentioned.  He’d heard that somewhere else, and put it with anywhere other than ground level. Up or down. Life for most young adults is up and down; it’s confusing to say the least. I wouldn’t go back and do it again, would you? I pray daily for the youth of our family, friends and church. Sometimes life is a real kick in the pants and I long for them to know the Warrior who will lead them through their battles and fight for them like no-one else ever could. Will you bow down with me, to look up, and plead on their behalf? “Oh our God…we have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon you.” (II Chronicles 20:12 NIV) Help them Lord, to know up from down, right from wrong, and how to speak up for themselves through Your power. In Jesus’ name, amen.

You know, the fact that they can’t always tell us what they want, or that we don’t always listen, doesn’t stop them. Thank God that He made them persistent. I can learn from that; I can keep trying, praying, listening to God for His answers, and never give up. Keep asking questions, like Alan did that day, which is how we learn at any age. Oh, if we could just be like those little children – open, honest, inquisitive without judging – and take each day as an adventure! Most of us will admit we’ve been about as deep in the basement as we can be sin-wise; but thanks be to God, we can still be UP – up in HIs arms, under His umbrella, in His light. Have a Nice Day!!

(Part 3 in two weeks: Sweet Things Make Nice Days! Perhaps if I am brave enough a Part 4 will emerge. It’s title will no doubt be “Angry Words Do Not Make Nice Days”.)

NICE DAY!

25 Monday Mar 2019

Posted by in Children, MONDAY MUSINGS

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

20170608_110746

“CHILDREN ARE A BLESSING AND A GIFT FROM THE LORD.” (PSALM 127:3) CEV

I used to think that verse meant one’s own children, but after watching a couple of generations growing up, I realize it is certainly not a blessing exclusive to the parents. Littles of our friends and relatives, or even a toothless smile from a shopping cart at a much-needed time, can just MAKE. YOUR. DAY!! Right?

As much as I feel “nearer to God in a garden”, I know where you really can get as close to the heart of God as anywhere this side of Heaven – sitting with a three or four-year old!

Three year old Grayson, one of my great nephews, found Spring peeking into the back door of Winter, and able to go outside after a nasty round of influenza A, was observed enjoying his own blessing. Kids are the best at observation and appreciating!! At three and a half now, he is so old and accountable that he is allowed to go into their fenced backyard by himself. Last week his daddy shared with me what his neighbor observed as the door slid shut between Grayson and his grownups. He said the boy looked each way, taking it all in, then proclaimed in as manly a voice as possible, “Nice Day!” Knowing a thing or two about this little guy, I wrote the following for Grayson.

GRAYSON

As in any good family yard, we have many things to do. There’s mud for playing, and a dog, uh-oh, what’s on my shoe? Toys, a trampoline, a slide and swing set; I can’t wait to play ball, but it’s not summer yet. The neighbor is grilling, but I am not. Dad said we’d play – I think he forgot. No flowers yet to pick, nor grass for bare feet, but with that bright sunshine, life is sure sweet! A look to the left and a look to the right, I breathe in the air and I feel alright! Not a worry in my pocket, just one thing to say, with a nod to my neighbor, I shout, “NICE DAY!”

Yes, children are a blessing for a number of reasons. They ground us, in more ways than one! Getting my head out of the air and back down to basics is one of the best reasons for being around them. God said “…But to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8b) Who is more honest than a three or four-year-old? Who  needs more mercy than a little child? Humility – oh my, they are the best at that! They have no other choice, being so dependent on all of us. They are the best reminders of how God wants us to be.

Then Jesus called a little child to Him, set him in the midst of them and said, “Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven”. (Matthew 18:3-4) NKJV

Part 2 of  “Nice Day” is taking form already as I recall several other touching or funny ways our “Littles” have blessed us.  They really do say the funniest things! So, bye for now, I hope your Monday is going just right! See you back here in two weeks, with a few quotes from Katja, Isabella, Alan, Sara, and more!

 

 

Fishing Line and HE Washing Machines

05 Wednesday Apr 2017

Posted by in Children, inspiration, Nature

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

20170401_134306-1

 

I must be one of the most hard-headed people I know! How many times have I instructed family members to empty out their pockets before adding clothes to the  hamper? And yet here I am – pulling out clothes, my clothes, with fishing line tied around each piece. Even in my 6th decade of life, I am so much in the learning phase. Can you identify? Please say I am not the only one who acts without thinking, or takes on a task without planning ahead. Whatever you want to call it, action without forethought usually has regret attached. The fishing line was a partial spool I tucked into my jacket pocket two days ago just incase I broke a line. But in my washer, it was as big a problem as all the tissue particles that covered my jackets, jeans, and my husband’s socks. Now, with the line wound back around the plastic piece, and the dryer taking care (I hope) of the remaining tissue, I am reminded of a few things. One, is how little fragments escape our internal library of ‘lesson learned’; also, how grace is bigger than regret; and third, we sure can haul in more than fish when we go fishing!

Saturday was a beautiful day and I had the privilege of spending it with an eleven and a half year old “Little Man” who calls me Aunt Pat. We met on the day of his birth, and that’s another story. How did he get to be so grown up so soon? I have two children of my own, adults who grew up at the speed of light even though I tried to hold onto every hour. We know they do that, right? Yet don’t we still put off things we meant to do with our loved ones, believing ‘some days’ will get here before the ‘too lates’? I’ve known for at least 6 fishing years that this little fellow would someday know whether or not I was really fishing, or just out there to enjoy the great outdoors and let him think he was fishing. My husband had bought two new poles, the modern metal version of a cane pole which came with hook, line and sinker. Really! All I had to do was tie the line onto the end of the pole after extending it the full 13 feet. Well, that just looked like too much line, so my young assistant Ryan and I cut it with the clippers in his nicely stocked tackle box, and the remainder went into my pocket. Had I thought to figure out ahead how to use this pole still wrapped in plastic after a year(!), or restock my son’s melted, stinky contents of his old tackle box? No, that would just be too easy, I say with a smirk. To keep this from being too long, let me just say that Ryan is now fully aware of Aunt Pat’s fishing deficits. I’d say he knew that when I had to call my dad to see what the bass would be biting, and then had to borrow that green lizard from Ryan. A good sport about sharing his bait, he also didn’t laugh when my self-cut line didn’t quite reach the center of our pond. We threw back my first little fish, and he caught a couple nice ones with his spinner bait on a rod and reel. Good job! Not to be completely humiliated, I patiently kept trying and did add the third catch to our supper plans.

Did I mention taking on a task without planning? Have you cleaned and prepared fresh fish lately, with a spoon and a dull paring knife? (Thank you Ryan’s parents for stocking his box with a fish scaler!) Next time, I may consider Ryan’s first idea of throwing them all back! But oh no, I was going to have fresh fish for supper – over a fire yet! The end result was grilled fish, bone in, over charcoal; delicious for all except Ryan who thought hotdogs looked more appetizing. The fire pit was fun for him to start but not in time to cook (who forgot to bring the firewood over?) except to roast marshmallows for dessert.

Several times throughout our day, I mentioned things like “what a beautiful day God made” or “I’m sure God knew when He created this or that….” We decided to bury the fish heads and entrails in my garden which I said would thank God for our catch by fertilizing the ground. I hope when Ryan remembers our time together, he recalls that Aunt Pat gave credit to God for all things good. I hope I remember what I really caught: good memories and good lessons. Those are, first, when I forgot to check my pockets, it ‘tied up’ some time so to speak, so I need to remember the lessons of the Lord’s Word, which saves many hardships over going it our own way. In Proverbs we read, “My son, do to forget my law, but let your heart keep my commands; for length of days and long life and peace they will add to you.” (Proverbs 3:1) My second thought was that I wasn’t fully prepared but my friend Ryan had what I needed. Jesus knows our every weakness, and oh, what a friend we have in Jesus! Paul wrote to the church at Galatia “Grace to you and peace from God the Father and our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for our sins, that He might deliver us from this present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father.” (Galatians 1:3-4) Last, my methods weren’t the best, but with patience I caught a fish. So, I’ll try to be patient, wait on the Lord, and be supplied. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” (Psalm 23:1)

I’m sure glad Ryan wasn’t watching today as I pulled the extra line out of my washer. I’m glad God was, and enables me to share some lesson reminders. Even without a great deal of planning, the day was packed with fun and blessings, some of which were sunshine, laughter, friends and family, a hawk soaring over the trees, geese honking, and the reward of delicious food shared with loved ones. With my lack of preparation, I didn’t deserve such a good day. With our human error, missing the mark, we sure do not deserve all that God has done for us, but we have opportunity to receive anyway. Because he loves us.

I felt almost guilty using my son’s tackle box, because I didn’t make the time, nor find the know-how to take him fishing when he was little; and he sure turned out great anyway. Those ‘somedays’ I mentioned slipped by me and were followed by regret. However, I am thankful for the grace of loving forgiving hearts, and second chances. So when I mess up and leave tissues and fishing line in my pockets, I need to extend that grace to a certain family member who does the same. Even if I let busy-ness crowd out time to call my loved ones and spend more time with them, God keeps giving me more. More time, more opportunities. I am eternally thankful for them all, and I want to seize that time before there is no more, to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly. (Micah 6:8) I want to grab the opportunities to soar above the storms with wings growing stronger as I wait for the Lord to work in my life. (Isiah 40:31) More than anything else, I am thankful that He forgives when we forget to do life His way, and that He keeps putting more blessings on my hook than I could ever imagine hauling in.

It just occurred to me that if I’d had my old agitator washer instead of this high-efficiency washer that I’ve complained about so much, I’d have been in a much worse mess of tangled fishing line! Small favors!

The Cream in my Coffee: a Tale of Two Sisters

11 Saturday Jan 2014

Posted by in Children, Faith, Life

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

The dead of winter has never been an inspirational time for me. The things that usually inspire me to write are sunshine, autumn and spring, beginnings and endings, children and aging – all that, but January, hmmmm, not a lot. Only two things have been the cream in my cup of January. One, fresh starts are nice, so the first week of January feels good to start cleaning out and cleaning up. Secondly, my little sister’s birthday is in January and I always enjoyed helping Mama try to make it special for her at a time when we were usually snowed in. Thinking of her childhood, I was reminded of a sweet story she told me recently. So to warm up today’s cold winter weather, I want to share a little piece of my sister’s life that was truly the cream in my coffee, so to speak.

As we all learned from Mr. Linkletter and Mr. Cosby, kids do say the funniest things, and I absolutely relish the things that come out of their little minds. My sister has two little granddaughters, and the following conversation occurred between the two of them. Their ages at the time were 7, and “almost 4!” years old. They are in the back seat of the car, and have no idea their Mimi and Pawpa are listening, and the discussion of genealogy has somehow come about.

K (the 7 year old, wise beyond her years): “I’m older than you because I was in Mommy’s belly before you and you came later after I was out.”

I (the 3 year old):”Why wasn’t I in Mommy’s belly the same time you were?”

K: Isabella, I was there first, and after they cut me out, then you were put there, and they cut you out, so I came first.”

I: (with trembling lips and shaky voice) “But it was dark in my Mommy’s belly and I needed a flashlight; why weren’t you there with me?” (tears)

K:” Isabella, when I was put there, you were up in Heaven with God, and you were still in God’s imagination, so He put you there after I got cut out.”

I don’t know about you, but when I first heard this, I had tears in my eyes and goosebumps! The old adage ‘out of the mouth of babes…’, right? “Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee…” Jeremiah 1:5  “For thou hast possessed my reins; thou has covered me in my mother’s womb.” Psalms 139:13

I knew immediately that I truly wanted an avenue by which I could share this delightful conversation between my great nieces. I hope you enjoyed it. Now my coffee is cold, but my heart is warmed with the cream of a child’s heart; and the knowledge that when we feel alone and in need of a flashlight, we are held in the imagination of a great and loving God, Who had a plan for us from before the beginning.

My first coffee break, with a teacup

08 Wednesday Jan 2014

Posted by in Children, inspiration, Reflections

≈ 4 Comments

Although I’d wanted to write since childhood, my best inspirations came after having children of my own. So often in the past 36 years, I have heard my inner voice narrating, “I am a writer”, and so I have stored up several little incidents that I simply want to share. And that’s the neat thing about writing, for me, anyway; that I can express a thought or emotion, or report a happening, and enjoy it for just that – and if someone else enjoys reading it, then that’s icing on my coffeecake.

It began back in about 1980 in our little 12×65 mobile home, as I made my way from the morning pick-up and straighten-up and into the kitchen where our little brown-eyed 3-year-old was leaning over the kitchen table, one foot in a chair, the other leg folded behind and a finger just coming out of the butter dish. “Look Mama”, he said excitedly, “I found a new real good sompin‘ to eat, butter on crackers!” The look on his face said, “please don’t scold before you hear why I’m nearly on the table, and there are crumbs everywhere”, and there was just a hint of guilt in that sweet smile. He seemed to think he had single-handedly invented the world’s best snack. I, however, was seeing a whole different picture. There amid the crumbs and smears of butter on a placemat, was a buttered knife, a used piece of bubble gum, a cocklebur and a teacup of water holding the two Rose of Sharon blooms he had brought in to me earlier. My heart melted at the sight of this gorgeous chunk of a child, and with gratitude for such a moment. I don’t recall anything else about that day except that I grabbed a scrap of paper, which I still have in a basket, and wrote down the memory.

I wish, of course, that I’d stopped to write down many more memories, but I was taught that idle hands are the devil’s workshop, and I sure didn’t want to let the devil set up shop in our home! So, busy I was, and too few coffee breaks I took in those days. As I look back at that kitchen table, I know how blessed I was. Two beautiful children, a husband who worked hard to be sure I could stay home and raise them, and a simple country life allowed me to soar a bit with the eagles, on wings above the storms, gathering strength to run, or walk, as life’s course would dictate, without falling beneath the load. Isaiah 40:31 became my favorite verse long ago, and I cherish it more and more as I reflect back, and look forward.  With too few dollars to keep film in the camera, I grabbed pen and paper and began storing little notes like a squirrel hiding nuts. Now, being older has two sides: with a little more time to grab a cup of coffee and reminisce, perhaps, but will I be able to recall where I’ve stashed all those tidbits of time? I hope that I can discipline myself to write regularly, but don’t bet all your beans on that one!