They’re finally here, the robins dear —
They’ve hidden all the winter.
But now they hop across the grass
Like frogs, but all aflitter.
I only seem to see the male,
With red breast so distinctive.
His yellow beak, next to his cheek
Means spring is not a fiction.
There’s something bright, a great delight
When ‘cross the lawn he’s bobbing.
He never fears, he brings good cheer —
My smiling face, unstopping.
All day long, the snow fell,
Softly, quietly; you couldn’t tell,
When your eyes were closed.
All the next day, we shoveled;
The mail was undelivered.
Could we hope for it the next day?
Or the next?
Yes, after dark the mail truck came,
One day, or two; some hours late,
Bringing news, and things to read;
The carrier freezing in his truck.
(But I’m hoping not –.
Do they wear electric suits,
Like astronomers, watching distant stars?}
I trudged out to get the mail,
And sorting it, found it not all ours.
Four pieces each, for neighbors next –
Should I venture out to deliver the rest?
Perhaps foolishly — yes, I went.
And on the way, looked to my left.
Two deer stood silently, watching me.
In the silence, dark, and cold,
We watched each other, warily.
Some days we see the animal tracks,
And even trails, worn in the snow.
Squirrels, birds, and chipmunks, too —
Deer and rabbits have passed through.
And today, with sun on snow,
A flash of red in bush does show.
A cardinal has come to eat
Some seeds I set out for a treat.
A rabbit came to our porch, too.
He tried some parsley, grass –
But few, the blades that he did pick to chew.
So blessed we are, with all these creatures,
Nature is God’s constant teacher.
Today, I’d like to ruminate on the power of good memories, at least one, from my childhood.
I will start in the present time. Yesterday, with two of my grandchildren, we made paper snowflakes. It was fun not only for me to show them how, but to watch their eager attempts to create their own. One is 5 and 1/2, the other is 3 3/4 years old. I had to help with some aspects, but they were able to use (safety) scissors fairly well. The older grandchild morphed into making confetti, which further on turned into a wild throwing of paper, and when cleaning up (sweeping), it got wilder. They started adding jackets, socks, boots, mittens, and toys to the paper piles. [Not sure I handled that well, but they had fun.] The younger grandchild was a lot better with scissors than I expected. I made some snowflakes, too, and we taped them on the wall.
None of this would have happened unless someone had showed me how to make snowflakes. In this case, it was my older brother. After perhaps 63 years, I still remember that he was the one who showed me how. Later in life, I often made paper snowflakes in winter, even though much of my life has been lived in the San Francisco Bay area, where there rarely is snow. But they’ve often provided much pleasure and joy.
There are a few lessons that I think are valid to draw from this:
One, children remember time spent with them, doing something together. I suppose these can be positive or negative things.
Two, we can influence children for good or evil, positive or negative.
Three, spending time with children in a positive way is more important than buying them things. Playing with them and interacting, praising them for any positive accomplishment, can be a great encouragement to them. (Some toys that they can interact with creatively on their own, are very useful, though. In general, I avoid most battery operated toys.)
Four, time spent teaching something positive is never a waste.
So, let them know you’re interested in their life, what they are doing, and encourage the good things. Sometime, even when you’re tired or exhausted with the children in your life, make the effort to interact. [But, I would add, if exhaustion is a pattern, get helpers and find creative ways to overcome that.] This can apply to other relationships. It is well worth it.
My paternal grandmother Anna always kept a candy bowl full of Hershey’s Chocolate Kisses on a table in her home. It was a cut glass bowl through which you could see the tasty treats, and I imagine that sometimes the light would catch the cuts in the glass and make it glitter. Sometimes, mixed in, were the mini candy bars such as Krackle or Mr. Goodbar. Grandma also sometimes had available bags of chocolate chips, in her kitchen. I visited grandma perhaps once a week, in my younger years from age eight to 24, I think.
I’m not sure of the clinical definition of an addict, but, in some way, I’m probably a chocolate addict, to my detriment.
So one week, grandma, for whatever reason, gave me a whole bag of chocolate chips to take home, I think the six-ounce size (could it have been 12?). I’m not sure what I was thinking (or not thinking), but I ate the whole bag within an hour or two, not likely aware of possible consequences.
Soon enough, I began to have terrible stomach cramps. My mom took me to Kaiser emergency in Richmond, California. I recall the green walls of the hospital and the examining table. At first the doctor was puzzled, not sure of the cause of my discomfort. He started to talk about appendicitis and possible surgery. Somehow that sunk in to my dense mind, and/or he asked me what I had eaten recently.
When I told him that I’d eaten an entire bag of chocolate chips, then the doctor understood. My mother was very angry, more at my grandma than me. I don’t know if she had it out with my grandma or not.
Needless to say, I’m very careful these days about how much chocolate I eat.
[Inspired by recent observations of furniture restoration,
restoration of old homes, and boat repairs.]
Sand the nicks and fill the cracks,
Stain and varnish, maybe wax.
Smoothing, repairing, filling holes,
Some furniture — renewed from old.
Abandoned home, so full of junk,
Rats and mice, and smelly stuff.
Maybe gutted to foundation;
Now begins the restoration.
A leaky boat; it can’t be used,
A hole-filled shoe; it’s been abused.
A crack-ed window lets wind in;
Repairmen will transform these “sins”.
So take my soul, O Lord, renew
The parts that have rejected You.
Renew, refresh, and cleanse, until —
My soul with You is one again.
Passing through, don’t you know
We’re just passing through?
This journey of life, so full of strife —
We’re just passing through.
It’s all just a dream, or so it seems —
Sometimes a nightmare of terrors,
Or at it’s best — a comedy of errors.
The saints and sinners,
The losers, the winners.
The rich and famous,
The poor and infamous.
The weak, the strong,
The hopeful, the wrong.
All loved by God,
All beautiful in His eyes —
No time to compromise
His love for you.
Well, our older cat may be in her last days, so this poem came to mind.
It’s really more about people, but maybe it’s all connected.
——————————————————————
A meditation on death …
‐‐—‐———————-
The light shines for awhile,
And then it palls.
Remember the light
When darkness falls.
Remember the good,
Remember the best,
Hold on in your heart,
To memory best.
Think not of the end,
For it really begins
A new door to freedom,
A new door within.
Many good times
Of laughter and love.
All multiplied
In heav’n above.
Bury me by the river,
Though I hope to be heaven-bound.
If there are rivers in heaven,
They’ll be peaceful, and broad, and sound.
The water brings deep refreshment,
Its lapping, a spirit of calm.
When the saints go down to the river,
There will be a glorious song.
Oh, bury me by the river,
And I’ll think of you in my new home,
And pray for your peace and protection,
As through life’s trials you roam.
For some weeks (even years, off and on), I had been burdened, even depressed, about two people close to me who seemed unconcerned about going to heaven, knowing and loving Jesus, and really are agnostic or atheist. I wondered if they had not come to faith through some fault in my own witness or character. I tried hard to show them love, and hopefully through my love, and the genuine love of other Christians, they might see their need for Jesus. At times when I got more explicit and asked about having a personal relationship with Jesus, it didn’t go as I’d hoped.
Then one day while pondering all this, this Scripture popped into my head: “For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places (Ephesians 6:12, NLT).” Suddenly I saw it all in a new way. This is not a battle between myself and others, but it’s a battle against evil forces that have influenced others negatively or even destructively. I even fight these battles within myself at times.
So, once again Scripture has set me free of a burden that I wasn’t meant to bear, at least the burden of blaming myself. Yes, I will pray and try to act on promptings from the Holy Spirit to share Jesus, but the outcome is not up to me.
clarakatalin 