The Cream in my Coffee: a Tale of Two Sisters

11 Saturday Jan 2014

Posted by in Children, Faith, Life

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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

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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!