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  • Nostalgic Look at the Past…

    In a little over a week, My husband and I will travel to my hometown for Christmas with my extended family.  This post is not about Christmas, it’s about childhood memories. But not memories of Christmas, memories of summers spent on the grassy banks of Yellow Creek.

    Our little village had a population of about 3,000 people in the 1960s and 1970s and we had no permanent library. From my recollection, the temporary library was housed on the second floor of the Fire Station. Then it moved to the second floor of the village government offices.  That stately building was a civil war era building that was a stop on the underground railroad.  Its history was awe-inspiring. Then the temporary library moved back to the Fire Station until a utilitarian building was built specifically for the library.

    The village library was built on the banks of Yellow Creek across the street from the civil war era building. During the summer, I loved to ride my bike to the new library. I’d check out my favorite books and sat on those grassy banks and listened to the soft sounds of summer while reading Nancy Drew or some other mystery that caught my attention.

    The village and surrounding township that used the library grew exponentially that the original 1960s building was torn down to make way for a new and beautiful library that was more fitting for the architecture of the area.  The original 4.600 square foot building was transformed into a whopping 35,000 plus square foot building that sits in the same location as the original building.

    Because of its size and location, the banks of Yellow Creek overflowed several times and flooded the basement of the new building.  They built a retaining wall to minimize future flooding. Anyone wishing to sit on the banks of Yellow Creek to read, no longer can sit where I sat as a child but there is another area further downstream that the library has for people to read.  There are even benches which is an added bonus.

    The new building is gorgeous and I love to go there when I visit.

    Today, I read books on my mini-Ipad with the lighted back screen. The battery runs out and it has to be charged, but I can download as many books as I want to read without the bulkiness of actual books.  And, there’s no dogeared pages or fun bookmarks, but it works for me today.

    Everything is different but I’ll always have my childhood memories.
    What childhood memories of books and reading flood your mind?

    Front Poland Library
    Front elevation of Poland Library today
    Poland Library Back
    Rear elevation of Poland Library today

    Photos courtesy of Poland Historical Society

     

  • Thanksgiving Memories

    A writer friend of mine suggested we share memories of Christmas but since tomorrow is Thanksgiving, I’d like to share my Thanksgiving memories with you.

    As a first-generation American-Italian, we celebrated Christmas and Easter like many other Italian families. But for Thanksgiving, the day was strictly an American holiday.

    We had the usual gigantic tom turkey, candied sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, rolls, stuffing, and the dreaded jellied cranberry sauce which I couldn’t stand. (I now make it from scratch with real cranberries and love it.)

    My Italian grandma usually cooked the other holidays but Thanksgiving was my mom’s baby, although I think my grandmother may have made the pies because she was an expert pie maker. And, my mom did everything else. So it worked.

    Mom made the stuffing the day before. Her special recipe that took a lot of time and effort. We all loved that stuffing. And because we only got it once a year, the years she made it a different way got mixed reviews even some thumbs down.

    She would get up extra early and prepare the bird stuffing both cavities (frowned upon today). Back then, we didn’t know any better. Or maybe it was because the turkey was in the oven in the morning and cooked all afternoon. I don’t know but the aroma of that cooking turkey filled every room in the house.

    While the potatoes were cooking, my mom would pull out her best china. The Franciscan Apple pattern. I think she has every piece ever made. Some fifteen years ago, I found her the matching tablecloth and napkins which was a pleasant addition to the festive table. My mother put her candlesticks out with lovely white candles and a nice centerpiece.

    When I was a kid, there were seven of us: my mom, dad, dad’s parents, my brother, me, and my grandmother’s brother-in-law who sometimes stole the show. We sat for hours and ate course after course. My mom decked out that dining room which had been a bedroom and then a family room and finally she got what she’d always wanted. A dining room with a breakfront.  The room was gorgeous.

    I spent most of the morning watching the parade on television back when there was a parade on every channel and we only had three of them. After dinner, we’d play cards.

    Later on, after my grandparents passed and my brother and I married and had children, we were ten people.  The enchanting table and good food remained the same but Dad added shrimp cocktail, cheese, and crackers for appetizers. The table increased to ten people.

    Now that my mother was older she needed more help so watching our children watched those parades while the girls helped mom.

    After dinner, we spent hours as a family playing board games. We had so much fun during those years. Everyone participated, and no one had phones in their hands (no cell phones) and no computers back then either. The kids, all in junior high or high school didn’t even ask to watch television or a movie. It was family time. we all enjoyed one another’s presence.

    One particular memory is one that stands out and I’m not sure if it was on Thanksgiving or Christmas because we played the board games on both holidays.  But it was when our kids were older. They may have been in high school.

    The game we were playing was a charade type game where you picked a card and acted it out (can’t remember the name of it…if anyone knows, be sure to comment).

    It was my dad’s turn. At this point, he was probably in his sixties. He read the card and collapsed off his chair. Well, you can imagine the chaos in that room when he fell and seemed to be unconscious. The kids screamed, “Grandpa, are you ok?”  He opened one eye and said, “I’m playing the game!” Stunned, someone picked up his card.  After he popped up off the floor, he told us his card said “drop dead” so he did.  We all laughed, shook our heads, and told him to never to scare us that again.

    Despite that crazy memory, I’m grateful for all those tremendous Thanksgiving dinners filled with laughter, great food, and wonderful conversations. The memories are bittersweet. Mom turned 90 this year and no longer cooks nor does she want to leave her home to celebrate holidays. Dad passed and our children’s families live far enough away that celebrating Thanksgiving isn’t as easy as it once was. But, we will always have our memories and we are blessed to have had them. I am grateful and will always cherish them.

    What is your recollections of the best Thanksgivings growing up?

     

     

  • Kings & Kingdoms

    Who is there among you of all his people?  His God be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem, which is in Judah, and build the house of the LORD, God of Israel, (he is the God,) which is in Jerusalem. Ezra 1:3 NKJV

    Let’s look at the context of this verse. After Israel had three waves of their people exiled to Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar, the King of Persia held the Jews in captivity for seventy years. In the first two verses of Ezra chapter one, God gave the King of Persia, Cyrus, who followed Nebuchadnezzar, a sense of urgency to put out a proclamation in writing to go to Jerusalem to rebuild the temple.

    Verses 2019 07 08Cyrus was an ancient, cruel and pagan king. It’s interesting to me that this mighty king would proclaim the Jewish God, THE God and then give the Jews the green light to return to Jerusalem and build the temple to their God. This king ultimately allowed the exiled people to return to their homeland. 

    Based on Daniel, Ezra and many other major and minor prophets of the Bible, I believe God puts men and kingdoms in place to bring about His plan. Ezra chapter one verses one and two, tells us this. I believe it has been this way since the beginning of time.

     

  • Wisdom

    11 Then God said to Solomon: “Because this was in your heart, and you have not asked riches or wealth or honor or the life of your enemies, nor have you asked long life—but have asked wisdom and knowledge for yourself, that you may judge My people over whom I have made you king— 12 wisdom and knowledge are granted to you; and I will give you riches and wealth and honor, such as none of the kings have had who were before you, nor shall any after you have the like.” NKJV

    Let’s talk about the context of these two verses.  From verse 1 to verse 6 of 2 Chronicles chapter 1 God blessed Solomon, and he took the people to the high place (where the people could meet with God) and made special sacrifices to Him. In verse 7, God appears to Solomon and tells him to ask whatever he will.  In verses 8 through 10, Solomon asks for wisdom and knowledge to lead God’s people.

    Solomon asked God not for wealth, health or abundance of any sort but he asked for wisdom.  How wise it was of him to ask God for a trait that he could use to push the nation of Israel to heights no one had ever seen before.  God was exceedingly pleased with the request and not only gave Solomon great wisdom, the likes of which this earth hadn’t seen before him or since but great wealth and favor among the nations.

    Solomon was by no means a perfect man.  There’s only one perfect man, Jesus.  But he wrote practical advice for the ages in the Book of Proverbs.  Even today we quote from that Book.

    My husband and I pray daily, both individually and corporately.  One of our prayers is that God gives us wisdom and favor in all things and with all people like work issues, family, finances, health.  All of it.   And He has been faithful to provide the wisdom and favor we need for the day.

    One day last year my husband called me on the phone from work and said he was having a tough time dealing with a case he had (he’s a network engineer and many times those cases have a complexity that sometimes can be way over not on his head but also his colleagues.)  We had prayed that morning, but this was a special prayer for the specifics of the case.  We took about five minutes to ask the Lord to intervene and give my husband the “eyes” to see the problem to fix it or have His ministering angels intervene and fix it for him.  The wind up was when he got off the phone and went back to work on it, he figured it out, fixed it and the client was happy.  We have scores of stories like that.  Where God answered the prayer for wisdom.  God gives us our needs, not our greeds.  We were specific in the wisdom he needed for the moment and God answered that prayer.

    He truly is a mighty and awesome God.

    How are you gaining wisdom? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

  • Motherhood.

    One hundred and ten years ago, Anne Jarvis held a memorial for her mother at St. Andrew’s Methodist church in Grafton, Virginia. She abhorred the commercialization of the holiday and attempted to have it removed from the calendar in her later years.

    Then in 1914, President Woodrow Wilson, designated the second Sunday in May as a national holiday to honor mothers.
    That proclamation has endured for over a century.

    Today it is celebrated worldwide. Perhaps not on the same day as the United States but celebrated nonetheless. Australia and Canada share the same Mother’s Day as the United State. In the United Kingdom, it’s celebrated three Sundays before Easter.

    It hasn’t just been celebrated in the past hundred years, though. While not a holiday, the ancient Greeks and Romans held festivals in their honor.  These pagan events were the precursor to the early Christian festival known as the “Mothering Sunday”

    Children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren celebrate with their mothers, grandmothers, and great-grandmothers with cards, flowers, chocolates, and gifts. Some give simple handmade cards while others give the more elaborate Hallmark cards. Some give hand-picked bouquets while others give FTD floral arrangements. It doesn’t matter what is given, it’s the idea that mother is remembered and loved.

    Even husbands get into the act by gifting their wives with Mother’s Day cards and flowers for gifting them with beautiful children.
    Each person’s situation is different. You might have lost your mother…whether recently or long ago. Time tempers the loss but the heart still grieves.

    Or you may never have or never will have a close relationship with your mother. It doesn’t matter. There’s a woman in your life who influenced you. Perhaps your grandmother or an aunt. Honor that woman today.

    Mothers, like all humans, are imperfect but they gave us the gift of life. Without them, where would we be? They are a gift from God who can never be replaced regardless of circumstance.

    Honor your mother. Pray for her, near or far. It’s the least…and the most we can do for them. The very best gift of all.

  • Aaronic Blessing

    “The Lord bless you and keep you; The Lord make His face shine upon you, And be gracious to you; The Lord lift up His countenance upon you. And give you peace. Num 6:24-26 NKJV

    In my younger days, my pastor would sing this blessing at the end of each service. It comforted me. I did not know it was an actual blessing from the Bible. In fact, it is the Aaronic Blessing and one which I have heard both in English and in Hebrew.

    This blessing will always have the power to comfort me and I hope it comforts you today.

    Through the years, different verses have been a blessing. What verses are your favorites or have been a blessing to you?

  • Venice, Italy

    Venice.  The City of Canals. One of the many names of this extraordinary city.  Instead of cars, the people of Venice travel from one end of the city to the other using motorboats or water taxis.

    I’ve visited Venice twice in my life and both were distinct experiences.  Once as a sixteen-year-old with my grandparents and once as an adult with my husband some forty years later.  While my youthful visit consisted of two days, my adult visit was merely hours.

    My husband and I didn’t have much time to drop our bags at the port to board our ship for an eastern Mediterranean cruise that would take us to Croatia (I have posted the Dubrovnic adventure), Athens and Turkey. We left the luggage at the hotel so we could spend more time in Venice proper. But it had been a mistake.

    The trip started out early with a bus ride to one of the 118 islands separated by canals and 400 bridges in a low-lying lagoon.

    Massive amounts of debris littered the canals when I visited the first time in the late sixties. I remember thinking why would anyone want to visit a place where there was smelly garbage everywhere you looked, but I worried about the garbage issue when my husband insisted on a Gondola ride despite the exorbitant fee. You can imagine my delight when the waters were clear of debris and the water pristine. (Venice has had its challenges this year with flooding they’ve not seen in decades.)

    My husband chuckled because our gondolier thought I was an interpreter. I’m not, of course. But I grew up listening to my grandparents conversing in Italian so it was a natural way for me to learn the language. That and having spent ten years with a family who spoke primarily Italian led me to be fluent in the language.  And while my grammar isn’t top shelf, I make myself understood.

    The ride was romantic, but the gondolier didn’t sing, I’m sad to say.  It’s probably an extra cost, and I didn’t even think to ask.  Several times during that short trip through the canals, I worried we’d tip over or hit the bottom of the bridges. Even the gondolier had to duck!  Funny, I didn’t remember that being the case at sixteen.

    My biggest disappointment was that I couldn’t show my husband the Bridge of Sighs because it was being restored and covered with advertisements that helped to finance the restoration. I didn’t even bother to take photos. This famous 17th century bridge took prisoners from their prison cell to the courts and ultimately to their deaths. The name says it all.

    Being close to St. Marcos Square, I remembered my grandfather pointing out the spot where, in World War I, his plane crashed in the square. Dumbfounded, I wondered how he survived but at sixteen didn’t voice the question.

    Early morning rainwater dotted the piazza when I slipped and fell but wasn’t hurt but embarrassed. I worried about getting up. People around me, including my husband, wanted to call an ambulance which further embarrassed me.

    On my feet again, my husband purchased a bib with photos of Formaggia on it because I dropped food on my shirt every time we ate. The Italian restaurant owner, opposite our apartment in Stuttgart. would get a kick out of me wearing it when we dined there.

    With our purchase in hand, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take a break from walking around the piazza and refresh ourselves with a small bottle of soda and one small bowl of gelato. Both for the meager price of $30.00.  Good thing we didn’t have lunch!

    A thought niggled and I double-checked the cruise documents because it was nearing two pm by this time and found I misread them. Four pm was the departure time, but we had to be there by three. I panicked but God bless my husband; he remained calm and took in the sights.

    We hurriedly found a water taxi. The opportunity to enjoy the Rialto bridge, the oldest bridge in Venice (12th century) passed with me worrying. Time ticked faster than the taxi moved and my nerves now stretched tighter than a rubber band. When we got off the water taxi, we still had to get to the hotel and pick up our bags.

    I procured a taxi, told him what we needed and told him to do whatever he had to do to get us to the hotel and then to the port by three. A tall order. I was never so thankful to speak the language as I was that day even though the Venetian dialect is difficult to understand.

    My husband, who likes to drive fast, held on for dear life as the taxi driver maneuvered through streets and passed other drivers who honked and gave him angry hand signs. But we made it, just barely, and gave that taxi driver a great tip. If we hadn’t had made it by three, we would have had to get to Dubrovnic on our own to meet up with the ship. Cruise ships wait for no one. A hard lesson to have learned on vacation but I’m glad we made it on time.

    A beautiful city I recommend to anyone looking for a romantic getaway. Seek the out-of-the-way places and forget the tourist traps.  Except for the gondola ride. 

    Have you visited Venice?  What were your impressions of the city?  And if you haven’t, would you like to? Let us know what your thoughts are traveling there. 

  • Answered Prayer

     

    When I first learned how to pray effectively, I was (and still am) in awe of how God answered prayer.  Sometimes it happened immediately and sometimes He was still working out the answer.  Many times God answered the prayer in an unexpected way.  Not bad, just different from what I had expected.

    I learned early on that there are only three answers to prayer: Yes, No and Wait.  While we rejoice in the yes answers, the no answers don’t keep me down because it only means He has something better for me and those I love.  And the wait…well, that’s the hardest answer to bear, particularly if it’s a crucial need like a physical, financial or emotional need.  And our family has had them over the years.  Big time.

    What’s exciting about it is that I’m in an expectant mood to see how He will answer it.

    Some people think prayer is private and often it should be.  Each person should sit with their creator and work out the details of their lives with Him.  God loves us and He wants to hear from us.  Whether it’s just a few words telling Him about your day or if it’s a more in-depth conversation about life events or personal issues. He wants to hear every detail of our lives, no matter how small.  Remember He has the hairs on your head counted so if that isn’t detailed enough, I don’t know what is.

    Over the years, my husband and I have prayed hundreds of thousands of prayers.  Some corporately and some individually.  But we try to make it a priority every day.  It doesn’t always work out that way but we try.

    Most of the time my prayers start out by giving Him glory. I move on to asking for forgiveness because I know I need it every day.   I then pray for my family and friends’ needs, then my own needs and finally for global issues.  God has been faithful over the years to answer my prayers so I will continue to pray to Him for the needs of my family & friends, church members and worldwide.  Sometimes it’s daunting but I know God has called me to be a prayer warrior so that is what I will do.

    Just this past Sunday we prayed for an individual who had severed a tendon and needed surgery. My husband and I prayed, and we were specific in our prayer: the surgeon would be a believer in Christ, that the surgery would be scheduled quickly and that the recuperation period would be minimal.  The next day, I received an excited call. The surgeon who would do the surgery is, in fact, a believer along with his physician’s assistant and the surgery would happen today.  Specific answers to specific prayers. This morning we prayed for God’s own hands to guide the doctor’s hands and that the surgery would go well without issue.

    I could fill thousands of pages talking about how God answered prayer, sometimes, unbelievable answers!  I try to remind myself on occasions of all the times He was faithful even when I was not.

    These answers to prayer are what I call God Stories.  I pray you have an abundance of your own God Stories.

    Would you share one of your God stories with us and bless someone today?

     

  • Montana Dawn

    Rancher Luke McCutcheon takes his first crack at one of his family’s cattle drives and stumbles upon Faith Brown. Alone in a wagon in the wilderness.  Ready to give birth, Faith has no choice but to allow the handsome stranger to help her.

    Running for her life, Faith, joins Luke’s cattle drive thinking she can escape her horrible past and the secret she holds in her heart. She wants no one, especially the handsome cattle man to unearth her deepest pain. Her kindness toward those around her makes her a character worth the time to read.

    Luke’s mother taught him to be a gentleman but his need for validation from his family forces him to take a stand and keep his men in line where Faith is concerned. But he takes responsibility for her because of his connection to her when she gave birth.  Throughout the story, Luke penchant for honesty and his realization that Faith’s life is an enigma.  She tells untruths which causes him to be reluctant to keep her near at the same time she’s giving and caring. She’s a mystery to him. The strain of his self-imposed distance from his family offers a tenuous bond to Faith. His lifelong hurts rallies the reader to root for Luke.

    Through many twists and turns, Luke and Faith face their human weaknesses, and strengths, to recognize their love for one another.

    I rated this story four hearts because while the story kept me turning the pages, Faith’s inability to share her secret with anyone for chapters on end became tedious even though I understood her secret was integral to the plot of the story.  It needed just a little bit of payoff.  Something to keep the reader reading. The main characters, Luke and Faith were well developed and even the orbital characters had their own nuances which came out within the pages of the book.

    While this book is almost a decade old, that’s no reason to bypass it.  Romances, especially Western Romances are timeless. I’m on book #2 of the series and looking forward to finishing the series. Take a chance and read this well-written book.

    A snippet from the story reveals the author’s easy prose.

    “The light from the lantern played across his face. His eyes, midnight black, centered on her face and never wavered.  As moments ticked by, she became increasingly uneasy under his scrutiny.”

    You can reach the author at www.carolinefyff.com and see her newest books.

  • Rothenburg ob der Tauber

    It was a glorious spring day despite the chill in the air. The sky was bright blue with no clouds in sight. We traveled to Rothenburg because we had heard of Germany’s “Romantic Road”. The Romantic Road runs north to south for approximately 220 miles and passes through a multitude of gorgeous old towns and cities. Rothenburg is one of the many towns which is more well known and is a very romantic city that dates back to 950 AD. From where we lived this city was about an hour and a half away but there was traffic so it took us longer than we expected to the point and we were stuck in a tunnel, no less!

    There are very few cars in the city because the roads are so small and visitors have to park outside the city walls and walk through one of the many arched gateways. My husband has trouble walking so when we arrived at the Marketplatz (the main market plaza) we took a bicycle tour of the city. It was amazing.

    What impressed me the most were the city walls. I imagined guards walking on top of those walls and keeping watch for those who would attack. While it probably was a dangerous and often bloody time, there’s something about armed guards standing as sentries to protect the weak.

    We wanted to tour the 2,000-meter criminal museum but by the time the bicycle tour was over, we missed the opportunity to see it.

    Visiting unusual cities and then tasting the city’s special food offerings is fun too.  For dinner in a small local restaurant, my husband had a Bavarian specialty called Maultaschen which is sliced rolled pasta with spinach or meat filling and then fried with scrambled eggs.  It doesn’t sound too appetizing, but it was fantastic. I had ham and cheese in a rolled pancake. Unfortunately, I don’t know the name of that dish. Also, very good.

    We then bought some souvenirs: a dish towel for me and a few puzzles for my two-year-old grandson. Spotting a bakery, we purchased two Schneeballen which is a Rothenberg specialty desert.  They are deep-fried balls covered with different toppings. What is amazing about this dish is that they have been producing it for over four hundred years!

    When we left, we took a short ride on the actual Romantic Road which has brown road signs.  The ride took over an hour, and we finally found the freeway to go back home to Stuttgart.

    I would love to go back to Rothenburg ob der Tauber and spend more time in this enchanting city.

    Have you ever been to Rothenburg?  If so, what was your experience?  If not, would you like to go?  What would you like to see?