Late Christmas eve, after celebrating Mass and the festivities of our fun home-spun get together, my friend Jeanne and me walked down the long wintry road near my home - slightly ahead of us , our dogs gleefully raced one after the other. The outside smell was clean and fresh. My lungs expanded as I took in a deep breath. The cold, clear air felt good. Bundled up in outer wear designed to keep one warm in freezing temperatures, we stopped midway to take in the beauty all around us - to admire the bright moon giving light to the night time snow covering the ground.
We agreed that looking across the field was like looking at a billion Swarovski crystals sparkling on a sheet of silky white. Breathtaking. Brilliant. Wonderful.
It was so peaceful. In no hurry to move from where we were standing, we let many minutes pass before we started walking again
All was quiet; Still. No sound to be heard, but the sound of our own voices as we exclaimed the natural splendor of this north Idaho scene, and I couldn't help but wonder if this silent night was so unlike the night the Christ Child was born.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Christmas Eve Past
I can't truly say it was "Little House on the Prairie", but it was a white frame farm type house in the little city of Bell where my mother would wrap presents late into the night and bake brownies and cookies and make batches of chocolate fudge -many who said, " The best in all the world" to get ready for our Christmas Eve celebration.
On December 24 mom would do her job at the newspaper until 3 p.m. , then rush home to finish dressing the turkey, slice the ham, mash potatoes, candy yams. For it was to our modest home each Christmas Eve neighborhood friends, work friends, school friends and long time family friends would come for dinner and yuletide merriment. Everybody seemed to enjoy "Cooney's Open House" buffet.
Mother had everything prepared and arranged just right. Our flocked tree, standing in the corner of our living room was beautifully trimmed with lights all aglow; The baby Jesus laid nearby, snug in His crib, a quiet reminder for our celebration.
Thinking back, I marvel at how she did it - being a single mom, working full time and only a meagher income. My brother Walt and I helped where we could, but it was really mother who did all the planning and hard work; Her joyful spirit filled the house with Christmas warmth and Christmas cheer .
Ours was a small family - my mother, brother and me, and what mom did year after year was provide a Christmas Eve memory that still lingers on - a connection with others of sharing and caring in the season of Love.
On December 24 mom would do her job at the newspaper until 3 p.m. , then rush home to finish dressing the turkey, slice the ham, mash potatoes, candy yams. For it was to our modest home each Christmas Eve neighborhood friends, work friends, school friends and long time family friends would come for dinner and yuletide merriment. Everybody seemed to enjoy "Cooney's Open House" buffet.
Mother had everything prepared and arranged just right. Our flocked tree, standing in the corner of our living room was beautifully trimmed with lights all aglow; The baby Jesus laid nearby, snug in His crib, a quiet reminder for our celebration.
Thinking back, I marvel at how she did it - being a single mom, working full time and only a meagher income. My brother Walt and I helped where we could, but it was really mother who did all the planning and hard work; Her joyful spirit filled the house with Christmas warmth and Christmas cheer .
Ours was a small family - my mother, brother and me, and what mom did year after year was provide a Christmas Eve memory that still lingers on - a connection with others of sharing and caring in the season of Love.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Standing Near
Yesterday afternoon while I was window shopping and enjoying the holiday lights twinkling and tinkling along Sherman Avenue I overheard a sad story about a middle aged woman lost and forlorn - alienated, separted , disengaged from the family she loves. I didn't mean to listen in on the woman's conversation with her companion, but there we were standing together in front of "All Things Irish" , and the woman's voice was loud. Not wanting to intrude or appear an eavesdropper, I soon turned and walked away.
Life can be so fragile, the heart easily bruised
and broken by
unkind words
harshly spoken
thoughtless deeds
needlessly done.
Pride and envy
the enemy leading
the way to friendships
ruin. But more than that
ridicule and contant criticizm
break the spirit
like a weight around the
ankles causing one
to drown.
How much better
to encourage, to exhort,
lift up, build up
cheering one to
carry on; To persevere
with the duties of life
and dream dreams
of successful endeavor.
My hope, my prayer
this Christmas season and
every season is for
those weary souls
isolated and alone
to be reunited, reborn, renewed
by a touch of the hand, a warm
embrace, a caring look one to
the other, saying
Oh! sweet darling dear one
you matter to me ;
I'm glad you're here, standing near.
Life can be so fragile, the heart easily bruised
and broken by
unkind words
harshly spoken
thoughtless deeds
needlessly done.
Pride and envy
the enemy leading
the way to friendships
ruin. But more than that
ridicule and contant criticizm
break the spirit
like a weight around the
ankles causing one
to drown.
How much better
to encourage, to exhort,
lift up, build up
cheering one to
carry on; To persevere
with the duties of life
and dream dreams
of successful endeavor.
My hope, my prayer
this Christmas season and
every season is for
those weary souls
isolated and alone
to be reunited, reborn, renewed
by a touch of the hand, a warm
embrace, a caring look one to
the other, saying
Oh! sweet darling dear one
you matter to me ;
I'm glad you're here, standing near.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Endangered
Oh ! the pain
the anquish, the dark
dispair
self-inflicted
seemingly beyond repair
by wrong choice
and bad decision
A young woman
running towards ruin;
Drugs and lies
big lies and little lies and
prostitution.
How to help ? To
give her hope
when she digs deeper,
deeper the hole
and won't look up
the anquish, the dark
dispair
self-inflicted
seemingly beyond repair
by wrong choice
and bad decision
A young woman
running towards ruin;
Drugs and lies
big lies and little lies and
prostitution.
How to help ? To
give her hope
when she digs deeper,
deeper the hole
and won't look up
Monday, December 7, 2009
Family Bible
One day last week while I was browsing the second hand shops, I came across an old, oversized Bible. It was setting on the floor in the book section of the store. I gently ran my hand over the fancy gold leaf lettering identyfing the book as "The Holy Bible and the Bible Arranged in Subjects with A Complete Concordance and Comprehensive Helps". I then carefully turned to the opening page to find the 1891 copyright and publisher, J.A. Wilmore. I had never heard of Wilmore, but surmize he must have been an early publisher of Bibles as Tyndale and Thomas Nelson are today.
Other than the well worn cover and title page being torn away from the binding, the Bible looked to be in fair condition with the remaining 1,062 pages still in tact and readable. There are several introductory pages : Contents, Preface, Publishers Announcement. I scanned quickly through them, then came to the First Book of Moses, called Genesis and read, " In the beginning God created the heaven and earth". My spirit was lifted, as it always is whenever I read the word of God.
I spent several more minutes turning the pages of Exodus, Kings, Chronicles before coming to a Family Record section. To my surprise each line was filled in with names and places of birth and death. The first entry John Wyler born October 1835 in Ragersville, Ohio; Died July 1910 was written in that cursive style script practiced in the 19th century with a fine point fountain pen. According to the record, other family members were born in Ireland, Scotland, Germany, and Iowa. The last recording was Kurt Alan born March 1963 in Tahoe City, California.
Marriage and Baptism dates are also listed, and as I flipped through the pages I found obituary clippings of William Wyler and George Lindell , bible study notes written in long-hand and a thank you note dated April 25, 1962 to "Dear Emma - Love, Sarahlyn" . One other interesting piece I found between the pages was an Edison Phonograph Owner's Certificate dated July, 1910 giving me a further glimpse into this family - telling me the one time Bible owner enjoyed listening to music.
I closed the Bible and knew it didn't belong on the floor of a thrift store or antique store or any store, but with the ancestors whose family history has been so carefully documented and recorded in these pages.
I asked the sales clerk how much she wanted for the Bible. She said, "Oh, I don't know. How about two dollars"? I said, "I'll take it". So now Wilmore's New Analytical Reference Bible is no longer on the floor of the Animal Shelter thrift store, but safe and secure on a table in my study. I don't plan on being the permanent keeper, only the temporary guardian - at least until one day I can locate the rightful owner of this Good Book.
Other than the well worn cover and title page being torn away from the binding, the Bible looked to be in fair condition with the remaining 1,062 pages still in tact and readable. There are several introductory pages : Contents, Preface, Publishers Announcement. I scanned quickly through them, then came to the First Book of Moses, called Genesis and read, " In the beginning God created the heaven and earth". My spirit was lifted, as it always is whenever I read the word of God.
I spent several more minutes turning the pages of Exodus, Kings, Chronicles before coming to a Family Record section. To my surprise each line was filled in with names and places of birth and death. The first entry John Wyler born October 1835 in Ragersville, Ohio; Died July 1910 was written in that cursive style script practiced in the 19th century with a fine point fountain pen. According to the record, other family members were born in Ireland, Scotland, Germany, and Iowa. The last recording was Kurt Alan born March 1963 in Tahoe City, California.
Marriage and Baptism dates are also listed, and as I flipped through the pages I found obituary clippings of William Wyler and George Lindell , bible study notes written in long-hand and a thank you note dated April 25, 1962 to "Dear Emma - Love, Sarahlyn" . One other interesting piece I found between the pages was an Edison Phonograph Owner's Certificate dated July, 1910 giving me a further glimpse into this family - telling me the one time Bible owner enjoyed listening to music.
I closed the Bible and knew it didn't belong on the floor of a thrift store or antique store or any store, but with the ancestors whose family history has been so carefully documented and recorded in these pages.
I asked the sales clerk how much she wanted for the Bible. She said, "Oh, I don't know. How about two dollars"? I said, "I'll take it". So now Wilmore's New Analytical Reference Bible is no longer on the floor of the Animal Shelter thrift store, but safe and secure on a table in my study. I don't plan on being the permanent keeper, only the temporary guardian - at least until one day I can locate the rightful owner of this Good Book.
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