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As the seasons change, so do
the contents of the basket on the porch. In September the last tomatoes
from the garden wait for a friend who isn't as tired of tomato everything
as we are. By October there may be bright red and yellow leaves from
the oak tree across the lane, or mums and ripe pomegranates. In November
and December you'll find Holiday fare. And, since spring comes in February
around here, the whole cycle begins again in January - right after the
Super Bowl.
We're always
looking for stuff to add to the basket so.. If YOU have something
inspiring, motivational, or just plain funny you'd like to share with our guests,
drop us a line. Who knows, next time you visit, YOUR name may be listed
as one of our more entertaining friends.
If you're a first time
guest, or just haven't been to see us in a while, be sure to check
out the stuff in the basket to see what's new.
This charming lesson... entitled simply, ROSE waits in the
wicker basket for my visitors in honor of new beginnings. I thought
you might enjoy it, too. It's been around so long I can't recall
if I ever knew who wrote it. I did not. If you know
who did, perhaps you could let me know so I can give proper credit
to the author.
The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged
us to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to
look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around
to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile
that lit up her entire being.
She said, "Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty seven
years old. Can I give you a hug?"
I laughed and enthusiastically responded, "Of course you
may!" and she gave me a giant squeeze. "Why are you in
college at such a young, innocent age?" I asked.
She jokingly replied, "I'm here to meet a rich husband, get
married, have a couple of children, and then retire and travel."
"No seriously," I asked. I was curious what may have
motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.
"I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm
getting one!" she told me. After class we walked to the student
union building and shared a chocolate milkshake. We became instant
friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class
together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to
this "time machine" as she shared her wisdom and experience
with me.
Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and easily
made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled
in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She
was living it up.
At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football
banquet and I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced
and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared
speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated
and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply
said, "I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and
this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order
so let me just tell you what I know."
As we laughed she cleared her throat and began: "We do not
stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing.
There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and
achieving success:
"You have to laugh and find humor every day.
"You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you
die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't
even know it!"
"There is a huge difference between growing older and growing
up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year
and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old.
If I am eighty seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never
do anything I will turn eighty eight. Anybody can grow older. That
doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always
finding the opportunity in change."
"Have no regrets. The elderly usually don't have regrets
for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only
people who fear death are those with regrets."
She concluded her speech by courageously singing "The Rose." She
challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in
our daily lives.
At the year's end Rose finished the college degree she had begun
all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully
in her sleep. Over two thousand college students attended her funeral
in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's
never too late to be all you can possibly be.
Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty.
Anyone who keeps learning stays young.
The greatest thing in life is to keep your mind young.
Henry
Ford
 An acquaintance of mine
who is a physician told this story about her then 4 year old daughter.
On the way to preschool, the doctor had left
her stethoscope on the car seat, and her little girl picked it up and
began playing with it. 'Be still, my heart', thought my friend, 'my daughter
wants to follow in my footsteps!' Then the child spoke into the instrument: "Welcome
to McDonald's. May I take your order?" —author
unknown
This little gem comes from
my latest issue of The Writer's
Corner , a bi-monthly magazine published by two delightful young
women who reside in the deep south. Both homeschooling graduates, they
began the publication in 1997 with it's main focus on Christian homeschooling
girls, but today their readership includes entire families across the nation.
If you're interested in knowing more you can email the editors by addressing
your questions to twc at post.com.
A Mouse Story
A mouse looked through a crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife opening a package. What food might it contain?
He was devastated to discover that it was a mousetrap. Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed a warning:
"There's a mouse trap in the house! There's a mouse trap in the
house! There is a mouse trap in the house!
The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr.
Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern for you, but it is of no
consequence
to me. I cannot be bothered by it."
The mouse turned to the pig and hold him, "There is a mouse trap in
the house."
The pig sympathized but said, "I am so very sorry Mr. Mouse, but there
is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured that you are in my
prayers."
The mouse turned to the cow. She said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry
for you, but it's no skin off my nose."
So the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face
the farmer's mousetrap alone.
That very night a sound was heard throughout the house, like the sound
of a mousetrap catching its prey.
The farmers wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness,
she did not see that it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had
caught.
The snake bit the farmer's wife.
The farmer rushed her to the hospital. She returned home with a fever.
Now everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the
farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient.
But the farmer's wife continued to decline, so friends and neighbors
came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered
the pig.
The farmer's wife did not get well. She died. And so many people came
for her funeral the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide meat for
them all.
So... the next time you hear that someone is facing a problem and think
that it doesn't concern you, remember that when the least of us is threatened,
we are all at risk.
 Author
unknown
The next
two pieces arrived in my email from different sources
within a couple of days of each other. Both are
heart warming
and motivational, both can be found on the Internet in several
other places. But because not everyone travels cyberspace
in the same circles,
I decided to repeat them here for you, just in case you missed
them. Run in the Rain
She had been shopping with her Mom in Wal-Mart. She must
have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image
of innocence.
It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes
over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth
it has no time to flow
down the spout. We all stood there under the awning and just inside
the door of the Wal-Mart.
We waited, some patiently, others irritated because
nature messed up their hurried day. I am always mesmerized by rainfall.
I got
lost in
the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust
of the world.
Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child
come pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.
Her voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance
we were all caught in."Mom, let's run through the rain,"she said
."What?"Mom
asked.
"Let's run through the rain!" She repeated.
"No, honey.
We'll wait until it slows down a bit,"Mom replied.
This young child waited about another minute and repeated:
"Mom, let's run through the rain."
"We'll get soaked if we do,"Mom said.
"No, we won't, Mom. That's not what you said this morning,"the
young girl said as she tugged at her Mom's arm.
"This morning?
When did I say we could run through the rain and not
get wet?"
"Don't you remember?
When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you
said,
'If God can get us through this, he can get us through
anything!"
The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn't
hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or left
in the next
few minutes.
Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would
say. Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some
might
even ignore what was
said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child's life.
A time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will bloom
into faith.
"Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If GOD let's us
get wet, well maybe we just needed washing,"Mom said. Then off
they ran.
We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they
darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They held their
shopping bags
over their heads just
in case. They got soaked. But they were followed by a few who screamed
and laughed like children all the way to their cars.
And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet.
I needed washing.
Circumstances or people can take away your material
possessions, they can take away your money, and they can take away
your health.
But no
one can ever take
away your precious memories... So, don't forget to make time and
take the opportunities to make memories everyday.Author
unknown
An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer contractor
of his plans to leave the house-building business and live a more leisurely
life with his wife and enjoy his extended family. He would miss the paycheck,
but he needed to retire. They could get by.
The contractor was sorry to see one of his best workers go as he always
did high-quality work and didn't cut corners, even in areas that did
not show. He asked if he could build him just one more house as a personal
favor before he retired. The carpenter said he would, and began the project.
But as many phases of the project drew on, he became more and more anxious
to retire and his heart was not in his work. He wanted to get it finished
quickly so he resorted to shoddy workmanship, compromised quality for
time where ever he could and used inferior materials. He told himself
that since this was the last job he would do, it didn't matter.
When the carpenter finally finished his work, he informed the employer
so that he could come to inspect the house. To the carpenter's
surprise, the contractor handed him the front-door key. "This is your house,"he
said, "my gift to you for being a dedicated and quality craftsman."The
carpenter was shocked! If he had only known he was building his
own house, he would have done it all so differently.
So it is with us. We build our lives, a day at a time, often putting
less than our best into the building. Then with a shock we realize we
have to live in the house we have built. If we could do it over, we'd
do it much differently. But we cannot go back.
You are the carpenter. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board,
or erect a wall. "Life is a do-it-yourself project,"someone has
said. Your attitudes and the choices you make today, build the "house"you
live in tomorrow. Build wisely!
Author
unknown
an Internet friend
asked, "why do you sign your e-mail Hugs
and cookies, Nana Ellen"??
Well read the following poem for part of the reason:
Hugs
It's wondrous what a hug can do.
A hug can cheer you when you're blue.
A hug can say, "I love You so"
Or, "I hate to see you go."
A hug is "Welcome back again,"
And "Great to see you! Where've you been?"
A hug can soothe a small child's pain,
And bring a rainbow after rain.
The hug, there's just no doubt about it. . .
We scarcely could survive without it!
A hug delights and warms and charms,
It must be why God Gave us arms.
Hugs are great for fathers and mothers,
Sweet for sisters, swell for brothers;
And chances are your favorite aunts
Love them more than potted plants.
Kittens crave them, puppies love them;
Heads of states are not above them.
A hug can break the language barrier,
And make travel so much merrier.
No need to fret about your store of 'em;
The more you give, the more there's of em.
So stretch those arms without delay
And give someone a hug today! Author
unknown
The best kind of friend
is the kind you can sit on a porch and swing with,
Never say a word, and then walk away
feeling like it was the best conversation you ever had.
Author unknown
Someone
once told me "experience is what you get when you're looking
for something else.."
How old is Grandma?
One evening a grandson was talking to his grandmother about current
events. The grandson asked his grandmother what she thought about
the shootings at schools, the computer age, and just things in general.
The Grandma replied, "Well, let me think a minute, I was born,
before television, penicillin, polio shots, frozen foods, Xerox,
contact
lenses, Frisbees and the pill. There was no radar, credit cards,
laser beams or ball-point pens. Man had not invented pantyhose, air
conditioners,
dishwashers, clothes dryers, and the clothes were hung out
to dry in the fresh air and man hadn't yet walked on the moon.
Your Grandfather and I got married first-and then lived together.
Every family had a father and a mother. Until I was 25, I called
every
man older than I, 'Sir'- and after I turned 25, I still called
policemen and every man with a title, "Sir.' We were before
gay-rights, computer-dating, dual careers, daycare centers, and group
therapy. Our lives were governed
by the Ten Commandments, good judgment, and common sense. We
were taught to know the difference between right and wrong and to
stand
up and take responsibility for our actions. Serving your country
was a privilege; living in this country was a bigger privilege.
We thought fast food was what people ate during Lent. Having a meaningful
relationship meant getting along with your cousins. Draft dodgers
were people who closed their front doors when the evening breeze
started.
Time-sharing meant time the family spent together in the evenings
and weekends-not purchasing condominiums. We never heard of FM radios,
tape decks, CDs, electric typewriters, yogurt, or guys wearing earrings.
We listened to the Big Bands, Jack Benny, and the President's speeches
on our radios. And I don't ever remember any kid blowing his brains
out listening to Tommy Dorsey. If you saw anything with 'Made in
Japan'
on it, it was junk. The term 'making out' referred to how you
did on your school exam. Pizza Hut, McDonald's, and instant coffee
were
unheard of. We had 5 & 10-cent stores where you could actually
buy things for 5 and 10 cents. Ice-cream cones, phone calls,
rides on
a streetcar, and a Pepsi were all a nickel. And if you didn't
want to splurge, you could spend your nickel on enough stamps
to mail 1
letter and 2 postcards. You could buy a new Chevy Coupe for
$600 but who could afford one? Too bad, because gas was 11
cents a gallon
In my day, "grass"was mowed, "coke"was a cold drink, "pot"was
something your mother cooked in, and "rock music"was your grandmother's
lullaby. "Aids"were helpers in the Principal's office, "chip"meant
a piece of wood, "hardware"was found in a hardware store, and "software"wasn't
even a word. And we were the last generation to actually believe
that a lady needed a husband to have a baby.
No wonder people call us "old and confused"and say there
is a generation gap.. and how old do you think I am ?
Pretty scary if you think about it and yet sad at the same time.
Grandma would be only 58 years old!
Mother's Wages
© Starrlette
L. Howard
She is paid in dandelions, crayoned art,
And plaster hand prints.
She is also paid in the sound of small voices
In prayer, song and laughter.
A mother isn't paid by the hour or mile;
She fills her heart with a kiss and a smile.
She can find wealth in clean little faces,
In hugs and in curls, in denims and laces.
She is paid with the sight of little sized joys.
A mother isn't paid by the hour or mile;
She fills her heart with a kiss and a smile.
Wisdom has two parts:
1. Having a lot to say, and
2. not saying it.
Ideas are funny
little things.
They won't work unless you do.
Here's my new motto!
" If
you think you are too small to be effective,
you have never been in bed with a mosquito."
Betty Reese
The way to love anything is to realize that it might be
lost. G.
K.Chesterton
Sent
by my lifelong best friend. I think it's making the rounds as one
of those "pass it on"e-mail, which I normally glance at,
then dump. This one touched me. And, when I attempted to read it
aloud
to Papa Dick, it brought unexpected tears! See what you think.
Information Please
Author unknown.
When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones
in our neighborhood. I remember well, the polished old case fastened
to
the wall and the shiny receiver on the side of the box. I was too
little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination
when my
mother would talk to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside
the wonderful device lived an amazing person and her name was "Information
Please"and there was nothing she did not know.
"Information Please"could supply anybody's number and the
correct time. My first personal experience with this genie-in-a-bottle
came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself
at the tool bench in the basement. I whacked my finger with a hammer.
The pain was terrible but, there didn't seem to be any reason in crying
because there was no one home to give me sympathy. I walked around
the
house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway,
The telephone!
Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information Please"I said into the mouthpiece just above
my head. "Information.""I hurt my finger!"I wailed
into the phone. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.
"Isn't your mother home?"came the question. "Nobody's
home but me,"I blubbered. "Are you bleeding?"the voice
asked. "No,"I replied. "I hit my finger with a hammer
and it hurts.""Can you open your icebox?"she asked.
I said I could. "Then chip off a piece of ice and hold it to your
finger,"said the voice.
After that, I called "Information Please"for everything.
I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia
was. She helped me with my math. She told me that my pet chipmunk,
which
I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and
nuts.
Then there was the time Petey, our pet canary died. I called "Information
Please"and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the
usual thing grown ups say to soothe a child. But, I was inconsolable.
I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully
and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers
on the
bottom of a cage?"
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul,
you must remember that there are other worlds to sing in."Somehow,
I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone. "Information Please".
"Information,"said the now familiar voice. "How do you
spell fix?'"I asked.
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When
I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed
my friend very much. "Information Please"belonged in that
old wooden box phone that sat on the table in the hall.
As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations
never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would
recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how
patient, understanding and kind she was to have spent her time on a
little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in
Seattle. I had about half-an-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes
or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now.
Then, without thinking about what I was doing, I dialed my hometown
operator and said, Information Please."Miraculously, I heard the
small clear voice I knew so well.
"Information."I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself
saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"There
was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your
finger must be healed by now."I laughed, "So it's really
still you,"I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how
much you meant to me during that time?"
"I wonder,"she said, "if you know how much your calls
meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to
your calls."I told her how often I had thought of her over
the years and asked if I could call her again when I came back
to visit
my sister.
"Please do,"she said. "Just ask for Sally."Three
months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information."I asked for Sally. "Are you a friend?"she said. "Yes,
a very old friend,"I answered. "I'm sorry to have to tell
you this,"she said. "Sally had been working part time
in the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks
ago."
Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Are you Paul?"
"Yes".
"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case
you called.
Let me read it to you."The note said, "Tell him I still
say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
A group of professional
people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8-year-olds, "What
does love mean?"The
answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined.
See
what you think:
What Does Love Mean?
"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and
paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all
the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love."Rebecca - age 8
"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different.
You know that your name is safe in their mouth."Billy - age
4
"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving
cologne and they go out and smell each other."Karl - age 5
"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your
French fries without making them give you any of theirs."Chrissy
- age 6
"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired."Terri
- age 4
"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes
a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK."Danny - age 7
"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop
opening presents and listen,"Bobby - age 5
"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with
a friend whom you hate."Nikka - age 6
"There are two kinds of love. Our love. God's love. But God
makes both kinds of them."Jenny - age 4
"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears
it everyday."Noelle - age 7
"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are
still friends even after they know each other so well."Tommy
- age 6
"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else
kissing me to sleep at night."Clare - Age 5
"Love is when mommy gives daddy the best piece of chicken."Elaine - age 5
"Love is when mommy sees daddy smelly and sweaty and still says
he is handsomer than Robert Redford."Chris - age 8
"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left
him alone all day."Mary Ann - age 4
"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her
old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones."Lauren - age
4
"I let my big sister pick on me because my Mom says she only
picks on me because she loves me. So I pick on my baby sister because
I love her."Bethany - age 4
"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little
stars come out of you."Karen - age 7
These words of wisdom have been around the
Internet for awhile. I'm not certain who authored them, but
I felt them
worth repeating here.
The Town of Don't You Worry
There's a town called Don't-You-Worry,
On the banks of River Smile,
Where the Cheer-Up and Be-Happy,
Blossoms sweetly all the while.
Where the Never-Grumble flower,
Blooms beside the fragrant Try,
And the Ne're-Give-Up and Patience,
Point their faces to the sky.
In the valley of Contentment,
In the province of I-Will,
You will find this lovely city,
At the foot of No-Fret hill.
There are thoroughfares delightful,
In this very charming town,
And on every hill are shade trees,
Named the Very-Seldom-Frown.
Rustic benches, quite enticing,
You'll find scattered here and there;
And to each a vine is clinging,
The Frequent-Earnest Prayer.
Everybody there is happy,
And is singing all the while,
In the town of Don't-You-Worry,
On the banks of River Smile
author unknown
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A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere.
