[I didn’t intend this as a “country music” type poem,
but it ends up sounding like that. This is a real place
where I love to go with my husband.]
Come on down to the Double J Cafe!
The people are friendly, and the grub is great.
The lady at the counter says “How do you do?”
“The special we have is made just for you.”
There’s a fire burnin’ on a wintry night,
Gas, not wood, but it still feels right.
No TVs blaring, no ads on a screen,
Just the radio playin’; a happy scene.
The food is delicious, even cheesecake.
The man in the cowboy hat had a slice to take.
They’re not open daily, just four days a week,
And if family’s sick, they have a bad streak.
Just feels like home, from long ago.
And they play the old songs, with 60s tempo.
It’s probably all just an innocent dream,
In cities, people murdered, while politicians scheme.
But I still think that heaven is a place where there’ll be
Good food, warmth, and laughter, and a grand happy scene.
That little house
So cozy and warm
It wasn’t a palace
But it surely was home
I’d stand on the heater vent
Placed in the floor’s corner
Until my shoes’ rubber soles
Got warmer and warmer
Though the air could be chilly
There was still welcome comfort
A place of safe haven
From the world’s disorder
Of course, I remember
The times of great sadness
Of arguments, conflict
And even some madness
But because of that little house
I still like to dream
Of warmth and of closeness
With loved ones esteemed
(At least in the northern hemisphere!)
The winter has passed.
On many days we see the sun –
Aft’ freezing rain,
Aft’ icy wind,
Our hearts can open up again.
No longer do I cringe
Against the wind.
Not much fasting now –
Not much bleakness now –
With color is our world endowed.
The warmth of the sun –
Let hearts be open to it now.
Warmth in the cold — how often do we take it for granted?
A fire, a heater in our home, a warm jacket, a cap that covers our head and ears, a warm scarf, socks and shoes or boots, blankets, quilts, or comforters. And how about the warmth of a smile, a hug, a gentle voice, a forgiving or encouraging friend?
I once stayed a weekend at a cabin in Grass Valley, California. All the heating, cooking, and hot water was produced by burning wood. On mornings there would be a designated person who got up first and got the fire going for heating the cabin. People took turns because it wasn’t so pleasant getting up in the cold. Then, if you wanted to get clean in the shower, water had to be heated by burning wood. Cooking was a lot more work, too. In the United States and other places, we take our electric or gas heaters and ovens for granted.
So today, let’s be grateful for warmth. And Lord, help us to offer your warmth to someone today.