Carolina Wren

13 Jul

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photo provided by Pixabay

While shy of people, Carolina Wrens seem to like being where people are. If your home is in the suburbs and close to woods and shrubs, you may have the honor of hosting them when they nest in springtime. 

When you hear a sweet clear call that insists you stop, look, and listen, you may be entertaining a Carolina Wren. One of our neighbors had a hanging planter on her front porch with a Carolina Wren nest in it. She greeted the family coming and going and could look out the big plate glass window to keep an eye on them.

We had a Carolina Wren family at our house, too. Our pair decided they liked our back yard. As you know, our yard adjoins a Diceranda refuge, so they didn’t have to go far to find items for the nest. For some reason, we had placed a small plastic table under the kitchen window. It had a plant in a terracotta pot in it. We kept seeing the Carolina Wrens when we looked out the window, but we didn’t know they were building a nest that would be so close to the ground.  We started in right away to worry about cats, snakes, hawks, and any other dangers for the babies we could think of. 

The mother and father worked together on the nest. It looked like a woven bowl with a big enough opening for the eggs and could accommodate parent-sitter taking his or her turn. The one that wasn’t sitting searched for food and brought it home.

 I read that the Carolina Wren eats caterpillars, moths, and roaches, along with other delicacies. For a treat, sometimes they catch a lizard or frog. They get plenty of protein, but they also consume plant material such as fruits and seeds from various wild plants. I don’t think they ever get any chocolate, poor things. Oh well, it’s probably not suitable for baby birds anyhow.

The one thing that surprised me most after seeing three tiny babies was that that the parents not only flew in with something in their beaks, but they flew out that way too.  We talked it over and decided that we probably knew what it was. It looked like a tiny white capsule. What do you think it was? Here’s a hint, it’s something we all have to clean up.

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Random Memories of Germany-Part 6

12 Jul

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy Wills

Fred and I tried to be good Americans – not the “ugly” Americans that are portrayed so often.  To do so, we took German language lessons before we left the States, and studied some after we arrived in Germany.

I remember taking classes after we settled in our apartment in Heidelberg. 

Part of Mark Twain Village – across the courtyard from our building

One of the last days of classes, we had to partner up with another student, go downtown Heidelberg, stop a German on the street and ask questions/directions in German and get an answer from them.  That was a rather intimidating thought to me, but my partner and I did it.  We would stop someone on the street with “Entschuldigen (Excuse me).  While we then began our questions, the person we stopped usually had a stern look on their face, which nearly made me stop.  However!….as soon as the question was asked, their face cleared, and they answered our questions eagerly and with friendliness.  It never felt like we had interrupted their day.  That was amazing to me!    

Heidelberg Castle, gate and town from the Neckar River

I mentioned in previous posts that we were occasionally mistaken as German by the Germans (i.e., please see my post of March 20, 2016 – The Cruise of a Lifetime, Part 6 continued).  That was always fun.  And that brings me to a time when we were walking from our apartment on Römerstrasse to our church, when a car pulled up beside us and stopped.  In German the people in the car asked for directions to Leimen – a town just a few miles south of Heidelberg.  Well I did my usual “ich habe nur ein bischen Deutch” (I only know a little German),and as I turned to Fred to ask about how far it was, someone in the backseat spoke up with “I speak English.”  But then, being good Americans, I still answered in my best German – that it was straight ahead perhaps 10 kilometers (geradeaus vielleicht zehn kilometers).  They thanked us – in German, with smiles on their faces – and off they went.  

Römerstrasse – the street near our apartment building – where we walked

While in Heidelberg, I found a set of china/porcelain that I wanted.  It is made by Goebel, the same company that makes Hummel figurines and plates.

The pattern I liked is called “Burgund.” 

There was a store in Heidelberg that carried the entire pattern, and I purchased my set from them.  When I got home with it, and compared what I had to what I had paid for, I realized that they hadn’t charged me for 12 saucers.

Again, wanting to be good Americans, I went back to the store with the receipt to explain.  Well, between my halting German and their halting English, it took some doing to make them understand that I had under-paid them!  They thought I was saying I had over-paid for something!  When it was finally clear that I was in the wrong – and was there to make payment – they were astounded!  And as a thank-you, they gave me a set of salt and pepper shakers in that pattern!!

 WOW!  It really does pay to be nice!  I just wanted them to know that not all Americans are “ugly” Americans.

~~~~~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~~~~~~

Judy is living in Central Florida with her retired U.S. Air Force husband of 50+ years. Born in Dallas, Texas, she grew up in the Southwestern United States.She met her husband at their church, where he was attending the university in her town. After college and seminary, he entered the Air Force, and their adventures began.They lived in eight of our United States, and spent six years in Europe, where their oldest daughter was born. She was a stay-at-home mom for many years .

  Judy has always been involved with music, both playing the piano and singing. Always interested in exercise, she was an aerobic dancing instructor, as well as a piano teacher for many years, and continues to faithfully exercise at home.

After moving to Central Florida, she served as a church secretary for nearly nine years.Her main hobby at this point in time is scanning pictures and 35mm slides into the computer. She also enjoys scrapbooking.She and her husband have two married daughters and four grandchildren, including grandtwins as well as a great-grandson. She and her husband enjoy the Disney parks as often as possible.

Life During Covid-19 Part 18- Dealing with my anger.

11 Jul

Together

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

I have a mental exercise for you. Think of someone in government you despise. I chose government since we tend to have strong feelings these days, but you can choose anyone. What is the first adjective that pops into your mind to describe them? My most frequent word is idiot.

In me, an anger reaction quickly follows the adjective. This is not good. Allowing my mind to simmer and at time sauté in anger leads to more anger and a total loss of peace.

Philippians 4:8 has long been my

go-to verse to restore my mind.

Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things. 

But what happens if I can’t think of a single good thing about the person or situation? That is where I have been with the rioting and violence. Then something extraordinary happened.

My heart changed and my prayer changed.

Instead of scrolling past fiery news posts on Facebook, I began to stop and place a hand over the picture and simply ask God that His love for the people to flow into my heart for them.

Am I 100% perfect at this? No way. I’m not 100% perfect at anything, But God is and I am counting on him!

For King and Country have a song out titled, Together. It’s another of the songs with the voices recorded remotely. I am sharing two videos. The first is the back story of the video, the second, the actual performance. I always enjoy back stories, but if they are not your thing, skip to the second one

“Filmed in quarantine in our homes during the COVID-19 pandemic of 2020. ‘TOGETHER’ with Kirk Franklin + Tori Kelly. So grateful to all 2000 of you who lent us your stories and voices to make this music video possible.”

Since local churches shut down, I have been listening to various churches across the country. The July 5, 2020 message at a church in our Florida town was titled The Destruction of Discouragement. One of the speakers one line points was

“Where your brain dwells, it swells.”

If you are interested, here is the LINK for the message.

The New York Blessing

7 Jul

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

One of the positive effects of Covid-19 is music. I have enjoyed live concerts I would never have been able to afford. Yes the fancy lighting, fog and effects are missing but the enjoyment of seeing musicians performing from their homes for the sheer joy of it makes up for the glitz. Plus, I can watch in my yoga pants and baggy shirt!

This video began making the rounds this week. You may have already seen it, I think it is awesome enough to watch again. Hope you enjoy it.

Screech Owl

6 Jul

My Take

DiVoran Lites

I saw a screech owl no bigger than a pint carton standing in our birdbath the other day. I’m so glad they have come back. We had them in the back when we first moved into our new house in Florida. 

When we first moved to Titusville, where Bill had a job at the Space Center, we were thrilled with the quietness and the jungle-like terrain. Driving into town on Highway 50 in our Corvair, we crossed the St. John’s River in a rainstorm. It was raining water all right, but it also seemed to be raining frogs. They were all over the highway, and we could see them leaping in the headlights and hear them crunching as we ran over them. There was nothing else we could do. The heavy rain, the darkness all around, and hoping we were getting closer to our destination, but not knowing where overwhelmed us. Fortunately, our two children, one three years old and one eighteen months, were sound asleep in the back seat. 

We finally landed at a motel reserved for us by the company and dragged our bedraggled selves in for a rest. We were in the motel for three weeks while daddy went to work, and mother established a routine with the little ones. We walked down to the river early in the morning. The heat and humidity were like nothing we had ever experienced or even knew existed. Then we went back to the motel room and read books and played with toys until lunch, blessedly they had air conditioning. We took naps in the afternoon after the fierce and loud thunderstorms. We hadn’t experienced that kind of weather either.

It was July when we got into our house. It’s a fine house, but at the time, we had no AC.  The only times we got cool were when we laid out flat on the stone terrazzo floor, stepped into a cold shower, or took our supper down to the river where a pleasant breeze blew. 

There were many frogs at our house, too. They covered the sliding glass doors and were all over the cement pad that would one day become a full-sized patio. These were green tree frogs; sometimes, they were called tree peepers. You could compare their color with a Key lime, which is small and bright. Golden racing stripes ran down both sides. I figured it was genuine gold because why would God use anything else? 

We lived in Imperial Estates, which was surrounded by scrub and pines. At night when we were sleeping with our windows open, we heard the castanet sound of cicadas so loudly we sometimes put our pillows over our heads. But sometimes we heard other creatures, too. Every evening we listened to the nocturnal Chuck Will’s Widow whose call had three notes. The call is unique, but that was a long time ago, and apparently, all the Chuck Will’s Widows from around here have gone someplace else now. 

Another thing we heard in the night was the baying of hunting dogs in the woods behind our house. Oh, yes, it was a lovely jungly place to be, and we loved it and love it still. To me, the calls of the screech owls were long and varied.

None of the other birds or animals stayed around with that owl there. They are voracious. They have many ways of sounding out. Some of them sound like a cry of agony. It scared us all when we first heard it in the night, but then we asked some old-timers what it was, and they said, “screech owls.” Once we knew, we slept right through it. I like knowing that the screech owls’ nest in hollows in trees and sometimes in the larger woodpecker holes. It reminds me of the stories I read as a child where everybody lived in hollow trees and holes in the ground. 

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

The Pilot

5 Jul

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy Wills

I found the following in some of my papers.  This was not MY experience, but one worth knowing about:

Years ago, I was enthralled as I listened to a pastor who for several years had faithfully served the church. His executive responsibilities had taken him all over this country. As he concluded his message, he told of one of the most frightening yet thought-provoking experiences of his life. 

Credit Pixabay

He had been on a long flight from one place to another. The first warning of the approaching problems came when the sign on the airplane flashed on: Fasten your seat belts. Then, after a while, a calm voice said, “We shall not be serving the beverages at this time as we are expecting a little turbulence. Please be sure your seat belt is fastened.” 

As he looked around the aircraft, it became obvious that many of the passengers were becoming apprehensive. Later, the voice of the announcer said, “We are so sorry that we are unable to serve the meal at this time. The turbulence is still ahead of us.” 

And then the storm broke. The ominous cracks of thunder could be heard even above the roar of the engines. Lightening lit up the darkening skies, and within moments that great plane was like a cork tossed around on a celestial ocean. One moment the airplane was lifted on terrific currents of air; the next, it dropped as if it were about to crash. 

Credit Pixabay

The pastor confessed that he shared the discomfort and fear of those around him. He said, “As I looked around the plane, I could see that nearly all the passengers were upset and alarmed. Some were praying. The future seemed ominous and many were wondering if they would make it through the storm. 

Then, I suddenly saw a little girl. 

Credit Pixabay

Apparently the storm meant nothing to her. She had tucked her feet beneath her as she sat on her seat; she was reading a book and everything within her small world was calm and orderly. Sometimes she closed her eyes, then she would read again; then she would straighten her legs, but worry and fear were not in her world. When the plane was being buffeted by the terrible storm when it lurched this way and that, as it rose and fell with frightening severity, when all the adults were scared half to death, that marvelous child was completely composed and unafraid.” The minister could hardly believe his eyes. 

It was not surprising therefore, that when the plane finally reached its destination and all the passengers were hurrying to disembark, our pastor lingered to speak to the girl whom he had watched for such a long time. Having commented about the storm and behavior of the plane, he asked why she had not been afraid. 

The sweet child replied, “Sir, my Dad is the pilot, and he is taking me home.” 

There are many kinds of storms that buffet us. 

Physical, mental, financial, domestic, and many other storms can easily and quickly darken our skies and throw our plane into apparently uncontrollable movement. We have all known such times, and let us be honest and confess, it is much easier to be at rest when our feet are on the ground than when we are being tossed about a darkened sky. 

Let us remember: Our Father is the Pilot.

He is in control.

Credit Pixabay

And Jesus said:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.

 I do not give to you as the world gives.

Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

John 14:27

Judy is living in Central Florida with her retired U.S. Air Force husband of 50+ years. Born in Dallas, Texas, she grew up in the Southwestern United States.She met her husband at their church, where he was attending the university in her town. After college and seminary, he entered the Air Force, and their adventures began.They lived in eight of our United States, and spent six years in Europe, where their oldest daughter was born. She was a stay-at-home mom for many years .

  Judy has always been involved with music, both playing the piano and singing. Always interested in exercise, she was an aerobic dancing instructor, as well as a piano teacher for many years, and continues to faithfully exercise at home.

After moving to Central Florida, she served as a church secretary for nearly nine years.Her main hobby at this point in time is scanning pictures and 35mm slides into the computer. She also enjoys scrapbooking.She and her husband have two married daughters and four grandchildren, including grandtwins as well as a great-grandson. She and her husband enjoy the Disney parks as often as possible.

How to Live a Worry-Free Life

4 Jul

Walking by Faith, Not by Sight

Janet Perez Eckles

REBLOGGED July 4, 2020

July 3, 2020

Back in 1970, my parents, my brother age 16 and I age 17 dismissed the 100 degree weather on that 4th of July in St. Louis. Our focus was fixed on that important day that would change our lives.

We entered the courtroom. A hush filled the air and the huge, red, white and blue flag reminded us of the honor we were about to receive.

Image by Prawny from Pixabay

“Raise your right hand,” the immigration officer said.

We did, and with unwavering conviction we renounced our allegiance to Bolivia and pledged our allegiance to the United States of America. We were officially citizens. In awe of that privilege, fireworks of gratitude exploded in our hearts.

You might have subtly pledged a different kind of allegiance, too. Many have. As we face the turmoil that stirs in our world today, we make a pitiful allegiance to our emotions.

Have you been there?

On Sundays we worship. During the week we worry. On Sundays we pledge to believe, to obey and follow God. We commit to embrace his Word and hold on to His promises.

But when we hear another statistic about the virus or see images of the violence, our pledge to trust in God is broken. We then enter a foreign country where the language of fear is spoken. Before we know it, we become citizens of that land of worry.

How can that happen? 

God says not to worry, but we do. He repeats to trust in Him, but we doubt. He offers peace, but we dismiss it.

But the good news is that if we renew our allegiance to His instructions, we will speak the language of faith. It will express His strength, enough to sustain us. It will repeat of His love, enough to cover us. And of His grace to bring out the perfect outcome. “Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Matt. 6:34).

And with worry in the garbage disposal of life, we sing, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”

So why do we doubt, shake or fret? After all, we know:

Surely, he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday. (Psalm 91:3-6)

No matter the bad news, the violence, the unrest, the division, or uncertainty, we are governed by Almighty God. We’re citizens of His Kingdom. And with Christ Jesus as the general in charge of our lives, we follow Him as He leads us to victory.

When we wonder if we’ll have enough for tomorrow, the wonder of His provision is enough for each day.

Let’s Pray

Father, thank you for the reassurance that You have me and my family covered for today and all our tomorrows. Thank You for the sleep that comes at night as you silence the turmoil around us. I praise you for the reassurance You whisper into my heart, removing worry from my mind. In Jesus name.

When will you begin your worry-free life?

Janet

______________________________________

Did you know I wrote a book filled with words of encouragement, uplifting thoughts and illustrations of real-life triumph to empower you? Its title, Trials of Today, Treasures for Tomorrow: Overcoming Adversities in Life. You can get it HERE.

CLICK HERE for a one-minute inspirational video.

Looking for a speaker for your upcoming event? A great speaker makes the difference between a so-so event and one that shines with impact. I invite you to view one of my two-minute videos HERE.

Please shareFeel free to share Janet’s posts with your friends.

This uplifting message comes to you from JC Empowerment Ministries. JC Empowerment is dedicated to bringing the light of God’s Word into dark places. The ministry survives only through donations from readers like you. Please consider partnering with us through your tax-deductible support. CLICK HERE to learn more.

Let’s connect:

Janet Eckles Perez

Some say she should be the last person to be dancing. Her life is summarized in this 3-minute video: http://bit.ly/1a8wGJR

Janet Perez Eckles’ story of triumph is marked by her work as an international speaker, #1 best-selling author, radio host, personal success coach and master interpreter. Although blind since 31, her passion is to help you see the best of life.

www.janetperezeckles.com

Life During Covid 19-Part 17

3 Jul

I am Weary

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

I’ve been in a bit of a slump. I checked past posts and saw that I haven’t written anything since June 16, when we were back home in the mountains.

In a normal time, we would be firmly ensconced for the summer and fall and welcoming houseguests. But these aren’t normal times. Two weeks was not enough! We returned to Florida for my husband to have a scheduled surgery.

It’s really hot here. I think I have had trouble adjusting from open windows and cool mornings on the porch to sweltering heat and non-stop air-conditioning. (Having spent my entire life in Florida, one would think I would be accustomed to it.) Or maybe I am simply Covid weary.

I am weary of people being angry and the great mask debate. I am weary of worrying about the people who are out of work. I am weary of wondering how our economy can possibly survive this massive shut down. I am weary of the isolation which draws me deeper into my usual introvert state.

And I am weary of trying to decide if our planned road trip needs to be cancelled. That sounds trite. I know. We had a health scare with my husband last week. He is fine now, but we really wanted to do this trip while he is able.

Yet in the midst of the weariness, I am thankful and blessed.

I am thankful for my friend, Pam, whose indomitable spirit and gift for chatter lifted my spirits this week. I am thankful for my friend and mentor, DiVoran, who understands my unsociable state and loves me still.

I am thankful my husband is doing well, his surgery is rescheduled and we may be able to return to the mountains in a few weeks. And I am thankful our daughter, who works from home has time off to visit with a friend for the weekend. She badly needed the break.

Most of all I am thankful for my faith in God that sustains me when I walk through shadows and teaches my heart to trust in Him. I read Psalm 57:1 this week, written by David when he fled from Saul into the cave. I especially related to the last two lines.

Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me!

For my soul trusts in You;

And in the shadow of Your wings I will make my refuge,

Until these calamities have passed by.

In a morning meditation I remembered an old hymn my Depression era parents would sing. I looked it up on You Tube and found this one by a group called Grace Thrillers from 6 years ago. Beautiful and I like that the video showcases scripture rather than images of the singers.

Wishing our American readers a happy, healthy and blessed 4th of July. It’s a special day for our family, my mother’s birthday. She loved her dog Max, and Krispy Kreme doughnuts!

Red-Shouldered Hawk

29 Jun

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photo by Melody Hendrix

For years I didn’t pay much attention to the birds in our yard and around the neighborhood. Then one day, our friends who lived on a marsh invited us over to admire the hawk nest in a big tree near their driveway. I was thrilled to see one of the parents settle down on the nest to feed the babies.  When our friends moved away, we didn’t think much more about hawks. That is until our Pastor, Bill began to track a pair of courting hawks on the church campus. 

As it happens, we live within the same mile square the church is in, so soon, we began to watch and hear the hawks over our house, too. They were so busy flying around calling to each other or doing air aerobics that we couldn’t ignore them. And when the nestlings grew big enough to leave the nest, we enjoyed watching them fly over or set down on the top of a lamppost. 

About eighteen days before incubation, the adult hawks go into a frenzy of happiness. They become singers and dancers in earnest.  Their loud, short cries fill the air.  One soars straight up then zooms back into the airspace of the other. They chase across the sky, calling as if they are telling the whole world about God’s goodness.

The first time I saw a hawk standing nonchalantly under an oak tree in someone’s yard, I was startled, but he wasn’t. Yesterday, one flew low, then zoomed in and perched on the lamppost in front of our house. He sat quietly with his back to me, and I think he listened as I told him how beautiful he was. 

Pixabay

Hawks are too large to take a bath in a home birdbath, but one afternoon I looked out in the back yard and saw a Red-shouldered hawk perched on our chain-link fence. I felt a bit sorry for him because it was raining, but as I watched, my sympathy turned to good cheer. He didn’t need a bath; he needed a rain shower. He opened his wings and flapped them, and he shook himself vigorously. That was when I thought again about God’s provision for all His creatures and remembered the Louis Armstrong song, “What a Wonderful Day.” 

Pixabay

Learn more about hawks at All about Red-Shouldered Hawks

What a Wonderful World

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Random Memories of Germany-Part 5

28 Jun

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy Wills

I mentioned recently that the pastor of our English-speaking Baptist Church in Heidelberg became our Karen’s future father-in-law. 

Heidelberg castle from the Korn Markt

The congregation of Grace Baptist Church called Greg to be our pastor in the Fall of 1981.  He and his family arrived just after Christmas that year.

The church we met in

As it happened, the church as a group had fixed up an apartment for Greg and his family, in a town just a short ways away from MTV, so when they arrived in town, they were taken straight to the apartment to settle in and rest. 

Some of the ladies of our church had worked a lot to make the apartment comfortable and livable for them.  They made curtains for the windows.  They made/purchased pillows for the sofa/couch.  Pots and pans were provided.  And I believe the kitchen was stocked right before they arrived.

This apartment was located about 10 kilometers from Heidelberg, and MTV.  That’s about six miles, American talk.  Not far, but far enough one needed to either drive there or ride the bus.  Or bicycle if so inclined.

This little town was called Emmertsgrund.  It is actually a suburb of Heidelberg.

Credit Google Search and heidelberg.de

This is similar to the apartment building where they lived

After Karen and Brian became an “item” they began studying together, going on dates, and talking on the phone a lot.  So what else is new with young teens attracted to each other, hm?  I believe their first date involved a bus ride from MTV to PHV (Patrick Henry Village – the other American housing area in Heidelberg), and a movie at the theater there.  

Once, while Karen and Brian were talking on the phone, Fred, in our apartment, sneezed.  Well, if you’ve ever heard Fred sneeze, you would know how loud it is!  After a moment, Karen turned away from the phone and said, “Dad, Brian said he heard you sneeze all the way to Emmertsgrund!”  That’s been a laughing joke in our family ever since!

~~~~~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~~~~~~

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