The Roses

13 Apr

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

Onisha

Some of you might think the idea of allowing a legally blind man who also has early Alzheimer’s to give you driving directions might be a bad idea, and you would be right but last Thursday it turned out to be a wonderful.

My aunt had to have surgery and we were staying with my uncle Paul who is my mother’s brother. The day after her surgery, Paul insisted that on the way to the hospital we stop at the town florist to get a nice bouquet of flowers.  This sounds simple but we had no idea where the florist was located. “Can you tell us how to get there?” we asked.  “Sure I can” he replied, so taking him at his word we set out.

We knew how to get to the hospital but once we turned off the main highway we had no idea where we were. Sitting in the back seat I sent up a quick prayer. “Lord, we are taking directions from an almost blind man whose mind isn’t always clear. This doesn’t seem real smart but he really wants to do this so I am trusting you.”

As my husband drove I searched the sides of the street for florist signs. Every time I saw one, I asked, “is that it uncle Paul? “I was so sure he wouldn’t be able to see it but every time he said no, that’s not it. Finally he spied the florist and gave my husband directions how to get to it. Uncle Paul was very tired and out of breath that morning and it was quite an ordeal for him to get out of the car and into the store. As we slowly walked in, a sweet sales lady approached us and mouthed, “Is that Mr H?”  “It is “I replied. She gave me an understanding smile and explained to my uncle that she was a friend of his son. When my uncle explained that he wanted some nice flowers for his wife who was in the hospital, she led him to the cooler and told him if he didn’t see anything he liked she would make something for him right then. Uncle couldn’t really see the flowers so he chose roses.

Making it to the florist and being treated with such kindness would have made it a great morning but God is into abundance. Leaving the florist parking lot uncle Paul instructed my husband to not go back the way we came but to go on through town. Well, Lord, I thought we made it to the florist, I guess we will make it to the hospital. We hadn’t gone a mile when uncle Paul told Mike to turn and Mike missed it. We began looking for a place to turn around then uncle Paul said just keep going straight, we can make this work. We were driving through the countryside when he casually pointed to the right and said that is one of the places papa farmed. Swiveling my head to look, I asked “did he farm it when you lived at home?” Yes, he said, “all we young’uns worked the farm.”

My parents were raised in North Carolina but I was raised in Florida. When I was a child they had driven me around the small farming community where my mother grew up, but being a child I just didn’t pay that much attention. Since she died, I had a hungering in my heart to revisit those places. The farms were mostly gone, replaced with housing developments but my imagination could picture her there, running through fields barefoot and up to mischief.

We made it to the hospital with no problem and my uncle proudly carried the vase of roses on his lap and we wheeled him into the hospital room. He had no idea; God had used him to deliver one of my heart’s desires.

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I HAVE TO BE ME

12 Apr

         From the Heart

       Louise Gibson

                         I am fighting the battle of resistance.
                         I have to be me, in spite of insistence.
                         The world is doing its best night and day
                         to alter my thinking, to follow its way.
                        Commercials tell me what I should buy,
                        Etiquette dictates the “how” and the “why”.
                        Experience has proven to be my friend.
                        My values I no longer have to defend.
                        Don’t try to make me an image of you.
                        It is so refreshing to have one’s own view.
                        No longer young, my spirit tells me.
                        In spite of man’s thinking, I have to be Me!

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Our Trip to Italy~Part 6

10 Apr

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

 

 

 

After leaving Verona, we drove over to Vicenza where we saw the Olympic Theater, which was designed by the famous Italian Renaissance architect Andrea Palladio and constructed between 1580-1585.  The theatre was inaugurated on March 3, 1585, with a production of Sophocles’ “Oedipus the King.”

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Then we toured the Monticello shaped residence, “Villa Capra La Rotonda” which was also designed by Andrea Palladio.  President George Washington selected the site for the future “President’s House” in 1791.  And then, interestingly, Thomas Jefferson anonymously submitted a design as part of the 1792 competition for the project, that was a variation on the Villa Rotonda.  That design was selected, and ultimately would become what we now know as the White House.   The first President to use the President’s House as his residence was President John Adams, and his wife Abigail, who moved into the  unfinished house in 1800.

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On the last day of January, Marcia and Erika joined us for a 2½-hour first class train trip to the beautiful city of Florence.  With its many art galleries and museums, this ancient and beautiful city is known as the cradle of the Renaissance.  Founded around 50 BC, the city soon became an important trade center.  As the city grew, Byzantine walls were added to the Roman walls around 540 AD for protection.  Additional walls were also added from the 1st to the 13th centuries for additional protection of the inhabitants and commerce of the city.   Lorenzo the Magnificent ruled from 1469-1492, at the time considered to be Italy’s artistic highpoint.  In 1494 Florence surrendered to Charles VIII of France at Sarzana.  1865 Florence is made the capital of the newly united Kingdom of Italy, with King Vittorio Emmanuele being installed in Palazzo Pitti.

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The Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore (Duomo) was magnificent.  Originally designed by Arnolfo di Cambio, construction began in 1296 AD.  During the next 140 years it took to complete the basic structure of the cathedral, many designers and architects added their inputs to the basic design.  When completed and consecrated, in 1436, the cathedral still had no dome.  Because of the many opinions at the time about the best dome design, it would be another 10 years before designer Filippo Brunelleschi won the design competition and began construction of the dome.  The conical roof was crowned with a gilt copper ball and cross, containing holy relics, by Verricchio in 1469.  The decorations of the drum gallery by Baccio d’Agnolo were never finished after being disapproved by none other than Michelangelo.

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As can be seen in the picture above, across the piazza from the Duomo was the Baptistery of St. John, one of the oldest buildings in Florence, thought to have been built between 1059 & 1128 AD.  The Baptistery is renowned for its three sets of artistically important bronze doors with relief sculptures. The south doors were done by Andrea Pisano, the north and east doors by Lorenzo Ghiberti.  The east pair of doors were dubbed by Michelangelo as “The Gates of Paradise.”

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The bronze-casting and gilding on the main entry doors was done by the Venetian Leonardo d’Avanzano, widely recognized as one of the best bronze smiths in Europe. It took him six years, with the doors being completed in 1336.  These proto-Renaissance doors consist of 28 quatrefoil panels, with the twenty top panels depicting scenes from the life of St. John the Baptist.  The eight lower panels depict the eight virtues of Hope, faith, charity, humility, fortitude, temperance, Justice and prudence.

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—–To Be Continued—–

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Otherwise

8 Apr

My Take

DiVoran Lite

Photo by Melodie Hendrix

Photo by Melodie Hendrix

 

Our son and daughter-in-law are empty nesters, so we all make an effort to get together with the grandchildren several times a year. Since our granddaughter and her young man are theater majors, a show is our favorite place to go. We have supper before or after of course.

Yesterday we parked four cars in the lot at the Bob Carr Auditorium in Orlando because we were heading out in different directions afterwards. We walked the mile to Church Street for supper in a bitterly cold wind. We knew it was going to be cold, but none of us believed it could ever be that cold. That’s the way we are in Florida, cold takes us by surprise. No one was truly dressed for it.

After supper at the restaurant, we decided to take the free bus back to the theater so we walked to a bus stop. We discussed other unsatisfactory options as we waited because it was just so cold. Our grandson and his young lady, our granddaughter and her young man huddled, and our son and his wife huddled with us. We asked the “kids” to come closer and they shuffled en masse without letting go of each other. We then had an eight-person huddle. A woman about my age came up shivering and we invited her in, so now we had four pair and a spare. She said she wasn’t a Snow Bird, she was from Seattle, so she was a Rain Bird. She said it sometimes seems colder in Florida than anywhere else.

The empty bus arrived and we all got on. At the next stop, a man who appeared to be homeless came on and stood up front near the driver. We thought we were supposed to get off there so we rose, but: “Next stop says the driver,” and we all sat down again. The homeless man turned to our son, the leader of the pack, and asked, “Are all of these yours?” Our son nodded. “You’re blessed,” said the man.

We all felt warm and close now, and glad that a stranger had recognized our bond. Say, maybe he wasn’t a homeless guy after all, maybe the lady traveling alone wasn’t a real “Rain Bird,” either. Perhaps they were both angels sent to remind us that our lives, “might have been,” as Jane Kenyon’s poem says, “Otherwise.” They could have been, you know.

Hebrews 13:2

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. (ESV)v

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UNCLE JESS

7 Apr

SUNDAY MEMORIES

 Judy Wills

Judy

 I have a really quirky family.  And most of them I have enjoyed through the years – or stories about them.

 My Mother’s family is originally from Ireland, with a good old name of McBratney.  I don’t know a lot about the family history, but only some from my Great-grandfather on.  He was one of 11 children, eight of them male.  I know that they called themselves “The Boys” and got together occasionally.

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About the time I was “aware” of life, there were only four “boys” left, my great-grandfather not being one of them.  I made a trip to Kansas once with my Aunt Jessie and Granny, and got to see them then.  However, my fondest memories are in 1958 when those four “boys” came to Albuquerque for a visit.  They were my Granny’s uncles, my Mother’s great-uncles, and so my great-great-uncles.  But they were fun and funny to be around.

 

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While I enjoyed them all, I guess Uncle Jess was the one I remember the most.

 

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And this story about him always delights me – and makes others laugh when I tell it.Back in 1958, one of the favorite things to do was to grill steaks on the outside grill.  Big, thick, juicy steaks – lots of fat to flavor the meat – special seasoning to give it just the right tenderness and flavor.  You remember, right?

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Well, one of those times, after the meat had been cooked and all were seated at the table, Uncle Jess began to meticulously cut all the fat from off his steak….and then proceeded to EAT THE FAT!  My Mother exclaimed – “Uncle Jess!  The doctor told you not to eat the fat on your steaks!”  And he calmly replied, “No he didn’t.  He only told me to be sure and cut it off.”

 

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As I said, he was a sweetheart!

 

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God’s Creation Carries On

6 Apr

A Few Thoughts

Patricia Franklin

I’m sitting here in my backyard on Holy Saturday morning recalling the shocking events of Good Friday. I imagine what was going through the minds of Jesus’ followers…  the let down, the unbelief, the grief and pain.  After suffering through the crucifixion and death of their Saviour, the followers of Jesus are devastated and confused, as are all of us. Is there any hope?  What lies in the future? What are they to do?
The sun is shining brightly today. Nature is still intact. My yard is showing signs of new life as the grass is beginning to green up and a few plants are peeking through the brown earth.  I listen to the sounds of the birds. While the doves are still mourning and proclaiming the loss of the Lord, the robins, red finches, blue jays and sparrows are loudly singing joyously… in anticipation of what is coming.  There is a cacophony of song, along with the staccato of the woodpecker chiming in with the chorus. The birds are totally focused on serving their Creator in the only way they know how.  Do they, in some strange way, instinctively understand and anticipate the resurrection and its significance? 
Then suddenly it is quiet, as they all go back to their silent vigil of waiting… only the mourning sound of the doves continues.  All at once a little red finch lights on a branch close by. He begins quietly chirping, as though speaking to me and explaining that everything will be ok. Then a song sparrow chimes in. Together they are proclaiming to me and to the world that there is hope! In spite of all that has happened, God’s Creation carries on.

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When Do We Grow Old

5 Apr

From the Heart

Louise Gibson

I  woke up in the morning,
mind refreshed and full of hope.
There is so much I want to do-
all within my scope.

My mind is willing, my mind alert-
I’ll spring right out of bed.
My mind is saying, “Go girl!”
but my back says, “Whoa”, instead.

Ego! Yes, ego is the culprit
in this aging game we play.
I don’t mind saying , “I’m 78,”
But, getting old???”No way!”

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Our Trip to Italy-Part 5

3 Apr

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

Bill

Wednesday DiVoran woke up with a bad cold, so she stayed at the apartment to rest while I checked out the bus and train routes into Venice from Mogliano Veneto.  I lucked out and met an Italian student on the bus who spoke enough English to help me with the transfer from the bus to the right train to get me into the Venice train station, and then which train and bus to catch to get back to the Mogliano Veneto station.

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I had a snack at a small caffe on the Grand Canal and then checked out some of the smaller shops, staying close to the canal, as it is easy to get lost in the tangle of narrow streets and waterways in Venice.  I bought DiVoran a small glass aquarium in hopes that it would cheer her up some.  The trip back to the apartment was uneventful, and we ate roast pig leftovers, with artichokes and fresh Italian bread that evening at the apartment.

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On Thursday, Divoran was still not feeling up to par, so she stayed at the apartment again, and I went to work with Marcia so I could see where she worked and to get a tour of the new Disney cruise ship “Wonder” in its final stages of completion.  The Wonder was built at the celebrated Fincantieri shipyards, displaces 83,000 tons, is 964 feet long and 106 feet wide, and features 11 massive decks which can accommodate 2700 passengers along with 960 cast and crew members.  I’m always amazed at how these giant ships are put together one piece at a time.

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Then at 4:00 in the afternoon, Marcia took me to the dentist.  The morning before, at breakfast, I broke one of my top front crowns in half, and it looked terrible, and had sharp edges.  Just by chance we had met the lady, Marcia’s dentist friend, at the pig roast a few nights before, and now she had made arrangements for me to get my crown repaired.  Some people might like to call this a coincidence, but think it’s just another example of how God is watching over us, were ever we find ourselves in this world.

Well, Marcia got lost looking for the dentist office, but the dentist stayed open to wait for us.  She did a great repair job on my crown, and then wouldn’t take any pay for the work, no matter how hard I tried.  Just try to find that kind of hospitality anywhere in the U.S.

Friday, DiVoran and I tested my bus/train memory to get into Venice for some shopping, a quick lunch, and then rode the train back to Mogliano Veneto.  That wore DiVoran out, so that night, I went with Marcia, Stephano, Roberta and five Disney cast members to the Di Marcone Ristorante (a special family owned restaurant) for a grilled chicken dinner.  They are only open Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and only cater to large groups.  You have to reserve your table and they expect you to stay the entire evening.  The food and the company were great, but we were there from 8:00 PM until after 12:00 Midnight

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The next day we drove with Marcia and Erika to Verona, to see the sights of that famous city, where it is alleged the balcony is, on which Juliet stood when Romeo wooed her from the courtyard below, in Shakespere’s famous play of the early 1500’s.  For a few Lira, lovers can write their names on the wall under that famous balcony, and of course we did.

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One of the most interesting things we saw in Verona was all the trash dumpsters on the streets were painted by the local school children and are very bright and cheery.  It really brightened up the streets and some of them even made us laugh.

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—–To Be Continued—–

 

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1 Apr

We have all been interviewed at some point in our lives but have you ever been Twitterviewed?

Rebekah Lyn's Kitchen

Last week I had the opportunity to participate in my first Twitterview. Doing an interview on Twitter with a 140 character limit on your response certainly makes you think about how to convey your message in few words. It was exciting to have the questions coming at you live and to have other visitors chime in as well.

Sezoni Whitfield

Sezoni Whitfield runs the website, Writters Kaboodle and is all about supporting writers. Every Thursday she schedules interviews in one-hour slots. If you would like to be interviewed yourself, visit her website to view her calendar.

Here is a transcript from my interview.

Sezoni Whitfield ‏‪@Sezoni_ 
Follow my Interview with Author ‪@RebekahLyn1 on Twitter! Happening NOW, and use hashtag ‪#WritersKaboodle to join the conversation.

‏Sezoni Whitfield ‪ If you had to make a rule about writing, what would it be? ‪#writerskaboodle

Scan

RebekahLyn ‏‪My personal rule is write through the pain…

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Mother Said

1 Apr

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photo by Melodie Hendrix

Photo by Melodie Hendrix

This week I wrote the wrong day in my journal. Wait, before you get in a tizzy, think about what Mother would have said. “You’ll never know the difference a hundred years from now.” You’re right, Mother, I thought and went on with what I was doing.

Like most mothers, mine had an abundance of things to say. Sometimes she was joking, or I hoped she was, as when she would say, “Now don’t be afraid of the storm, if lightning strikes you, you’ll never know the difference.” I must say, I have no fear of lightning, so she must have been on the right track. Afraid someone might kidnap you? Here’s what Mother would say: “Don’t worry, the minute they get you under a street light they’ll bring you right back.” Want to run away to Grandmother’s house, but wonder how you’re going to get the fifty miles down the mountain by yourself when you’re only a kid? Mother’s suggestion: “Here’s a nickel, don’t spend it all in one place.”

How about if your dress has a small spot on it and you’re ready to go out the door? “They’ll never know the difference on a galloping horse.”

Mother had some nice saying, too. She learned them from Auntie Elvira her first Sunday school teacher, who was my first Sunday school teacher too. When my brother and I fought the word was, “Be ye kind, one to another, tender, loving, forgiving each other.” Okay, Mom, I’ll try. If I wanted to say something bad about someone who had hurt my feelings she’d caution, “Ask yourself: is it kind, is it true, and do I have to tell it.” At least one of those is going to have a no, so forget it.

Ephesians 6:1 Children obey your parents for this is right.

 

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