Precious

What is Precious to Me?

 

This coming Sunday the lesson for our adult class at my church has been planned by a lady who had a unique idea.  She asked each of us to bring in something that was precious to us.  What came to my mind instantly was “my family”.  It was neither practical nor possible to bring in my family and place them on the (symbolic) altar (which was the plan).  So I began to think of all the things which are precious to me and it turned out to be many, many things.  The main criteria for me to use in deciding what I could physically carry into the church was - what would I never, ever throw away. Well, that is a long list also.  This task had turned out to be what I thought would be simple, to a monumental effort.

 

Since this is after all, a church affair, I began to narrow things down.  I decided that I would take in a Bible that my parents had given to me around the age of 12.  I do not remember just why it was given to me but I suspect it was when I went through a communicant’s class at that age. So, it is a very old Bible and it looks old.  The cover is missing entirely.  Many pages are gone or torn or scribbled on (by my children before they learned to write).  No doubt they were also intrigued by the colorful pictures throughout, depicting Biblical scenes.  Even some of those pictures were gone.  They are wonderful pictures and I will admit to removing some of them to use in the classes I have taught for children, mainly in this present church.

 

So, I had made a decision, but then I thought of all those other Bibles on my shelf.  There was one which was presented to my aunt Clara by her husband in 1924.  It says so right on the fly leaf.  Also some more history of this Bible is written there.  After my aunt died in May 1973 my uncle Matt moved from his farm in Indiana to Florida.  He must have been discarding items for this move and thought the Bible too precious to throw away.  He gave it to my sister Katrine and she kept it until 1981.  I found it when I was handling her affairs. In ten more years this Bible will be 100 years old.  I determined to add it to stack.

 

This is not the only Bible I have that had belonged to my sister.  I have two others.  One was given to her on her birthday Oct 3^rd 1922 when she was around ten.  My mother gave it to her and had written her name along with the date.

 

 The other Bible is one that my sister had bought for herself. The copyright date is 1940.  It is 2 and ½ inches thick and has wonderful helps in it like The Key, an index of the Scriptures from Genesis through Revelation.  At the back is a Concordance Dictionary.  The words of Jesus are in red. And it also has a Family Register which has been filled in by my sister, with many pertinent dates included.

 

My stack is getting higher and I have one more to add.  It is called the Good News Bible and I love the illustrations in it.  They are all line drawings.  The artist who drew them was very adept at expressing the essence of the message with minimal lines.

 

While working on this stack I found some interesting notes I had taken when studying something using some of these Bibles.  One page was filled with thoughts about the wisdom found in this amazing text.

 

Our pastor likes to quote Dr. Phil’s response to his guests with “How’s that working for you”?

 

I think Proverbs of Solomon offer the most economical, psychological, effective counseling that has been available since the written Bible.  They are for me truths as a blueprint for a fulfilling life.

 

I choose Proverbs 3:5 in the King James version.  “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. My son-in-law often chides me for not reading the directions first before attempting something new.  For all too often I have to abandon my initial attempts and “read the directions.”

 

In terms of living our lives we are always being challenged with situations that are new and unfamiliar.  The categories for these challenges are endless, some small, others medium size and some Papa Bear size.

 

In order to solve a new problem we have to go through a cognitive process.  Scientists are learning with the use of new technology that this cognitive process can actually be seen taking place in the brain as it occurs, when they ask a patient to count backward from 100 by threes.

 

They have also learned that these mental gymnastics actually cause the neurons in the brain to fire faster and this sends out more signals which are aimed to a specific spot.  This is building more brain power which becomes a foundation for better problem solving in the future.  In educational circles this is referred to as cognitive dissonance (a lack of harmony or agreement).  No problems - no new learning.  That is how children learn and advance and can go on to the next step in whatever they are learning.

 

God knew all of this long before scientists discovered it.  As our creator he designed mankind in such a way for him to develop into a growing, learning, spiritually balanced being.

 

I think problems, both small and large are a part of God’s plan for mankind to become what he created them to be.  Proverbs 3:5 instructs us to walk the path God knows will lead to success whereas if we make up our own instructions we can fail and know frustration. 

 

So, when we trust in God, read his instructions and follow them we gain new learning and understanding, helping us with our next, similar problem we face.  Proverbs is full of problem solving instructions.  Proverbs 1:33 says “those who listen to me will be secure and will live at ease, without dread of disaster.  It is the best plan that I know to follow throughout life.  That is why it is precious to me.

 

 

What is precious to me?

Hobby or Addiction

Around ten years ago I gave my son a set up for bird feeding so he and his boys could observe the birds while sitting at their dining room table.  It was a lot of fun and even the youngest son learned to identify the Mommy birds and Daddy birds as well as the juveniles. 

Now I have become the one to enjoy the feeding, feathered friends. After all these years some changes are taking place at his house so he has brought his feeding station and accompanying feeders to my house.  He set them up in front of my dining room window and I can watch the birds eat while I eat.

It occurred to me that this was becoming an addiction as I sat mesmerized in front of my window and time was passing without me even realizing it.  Perhaps it is not all bad as I am curious about which birds are visiting.  I got out my Audubon Field Guide Book to North American Birds and it is becoming very well used!

When I saw one bird flying from one place to another, not to the station, I remembered reading about a bird whose flight has an undulating pattern.  I did not remember which one so I began looking through the grassland birds.  I am not positive but I think it may have been the Loggerhead Shrike (Lanius Iudovicianus).  This bird has no talons so he impales his prey on a thorn or barbed wire fence in order to tear it apart to eat then or later.  For this reason he  has another name "Butcher Bird".  His food consists of insects, mice or small birds so he hunts for  this food and not the seeds I have provided.  I did not see him at this station so it does seem logical that I have seen this unusual bird as this area is part of his range. 

Another fact which came to me because of this "addiction" is that some birds are much smarter than humans.  They curb their population when food is scarce.  They lay fewer eggs or do not breed at all.  This bird may be the "wise old owl" we refer to at times.  He is the barn owl (Tyto alba) and eats mostly rodents.  He has a heart shaped face, is the size of a crow, and has keen hearing, which he relies on when hunting.  He can see just fine in the daylight and his large eyes allow him to see very well at night.

Who wouldn't get addicted to such fascinating creatures which are able to do something we will never be able to do, fly through the air in our birthday suits.

Accidental Gardening

 The other grandmother in our family once used the phrase "accidental gardening" and I liked it, as it applies to so much of what goes on here at my north Georgia place.

The photo shows my, not so great looking compost, which needs some expert help.  I once heard a gardener on radio WSB say that having a compost is so easy, you just pitch any fruit/vegetable scraps and grass or greenery onto an out of the way place and it will compost itself.
So that is what I did for a long time and just left it there, mostly I just did not want to put peelings, etc. into the land field.

Then my son-in-law suggested he make a new one in a different spot and fence it in, etc.  That was a good plan so that is what I am now using.  Proof that I have neglected it hit me square in the face this week when my son-in-law pointed out to me that I had a jonquil blooming in my compost.  I had seen something  green but supposed it would be an onion which had been discarded there.  Not so.  It truly is a jonquil.  But how did it happen?

We speculated about that but came to no conclusions.  He  had seen jonquils coming up near his garden in the Atlanta area, in much the same surprising way.  My best guess is that when I trimmed the old dried flowers from my jonquils in front of my house, I must have thrown them into the compost.  There must have been some seeds already formed in at least one of them, thus the several jonquils coming up right where they had been thrown.

For me this is a first in traveling jonquils.  I have other plants which reseed themselves and present new flowers in odd places but never before jonquils.  In fact Jim's idea that the birds had planted the seeds may be the best  answer, as I saw another jonquil blooming far from the others down in the front near a big curve.  I had orange day lilies there but would never have put jonquils up next to the trunk of a  tree where these are growing.  So, let's blame it on the birds, or shall I say that accidental gardening has taken over where I had let down my guard.  Yes, I like that.  It does sound a lot better to me.

Scars

A scar by definition is a mark left on the skin after a wound has healed.  There are other scars however which are not readily visible, as emotional, financial or environmental scars.  What I am thinking about today are the scars which we collect on  our skin.

I began thinking about this kind of scarring when I meditated about why I did not like to own a dog.  Most people like to own dogs and have more than one such pet.  What came into my mind is  a far away memory when I was so small that I was being held in someones arms.  There was a little puppy in the room and I reached for the puppy but my outstretched hand was stopped in mid air by when it hit the searing, hot side of a stove.  From that incident I carried a scar on the back of my left hand for almost all of my life.  So long in fact, that I had forgotten about it but somewhere in my memory box it surfaced this morning.

Meditating brings up related incidents and I thought of  another burn.  I was burn.running on a cold snowy day, slipped and  landed on red hot coals which had been dumped on a  slope.  That accident also left a scar, on my right leg midway from my knee to my hip.

Some years before that, before I could walk, I was in a walker which had wheels and I was happily pushing myself all over a porch which had a flight of steps down to a flagstone walk.  I was probably too young to know where I was heading and I went right over the top step and on down to the ground.  The scar I collected that time is under my chin and still faintly visible when my skin is pushed around.

The only other scars I collected were left from a surgeon's knife.  A no doubt, inexperienced doctor, left a long scar on my right abdomen.  It was  emergency surgery caused by an infected appendix.

Other smaller scars that I lay claim to  are not as prominent, due to improved surgical techniques.  I carry scars inside of me which cannot be seen by me.  They are scattered all over my lungs and are the result of many lung infections.  By the time a skilled doctor  discovered the cause of the frequent infections I had already accumulated too many for my own good.

So, I live with them, those scars which are a part of me, that are not noticed, and rarely come to mind.  They were caused by  wounds which have healed over.  All of us have scars left from wounds which heal and are forgotten.  The emotional wounds which we collect are not so easily healed and are hidden from view.  Some we take great care to hide, some we are not aware of and carry them with us and thus they  influence us forever.   If only meditation could heal them also.

Camelot

A lovely place to be and a lovely time of life; alone, but not lonely, busy, but not overworked, free, but not at loose ends, at peace yet not a dull state of mind, those are the components, I think, that identify Camelot.  Contentment is a great state of mind, free of pain and worry with loving friends and family who are there but not hovering.  What brings on this favored state?

 Not just one thing I think, but a combination of prior planning, choosing, and determination to plant oneself in a place which is satisfying to you and not necessarily to anyone else.  A book lover would probably live peacefully in a library setting.  I do enjoy a good book, and also writing, but seeing things grow and reach maturity and bloom gets my vote.  Having four distinct seasons is just enough diversity to keep me interested.  In the coldest season I adjust by pursuing other interests, but at the first hint of spring my antennae go up and I begin to explore outside for what is stirring.  There is always something that needs attention.  This would probably annoy a book lover, but it just nudges me into action with pruning shears or shovel, or just gloves and weed pulling.

 Firing up my work horse golf cart, and chugging all around this place is the way I start exploring my outside environment, looking for “needy” plants.  If you have planned your environment for year around blooms there is always something to admire, to perk things up.  Part of the contentment comes from knowing that at certain times of the year you will be seeing  plants produce blooms that can be cut for indoors.  Some plants keep their blooms for longer periods - as the camellia – and the enjoyment lasts longer.

 If you choose plants which attract birds, or butterflies, you compound the fun.  Also if they produce sweet fragrance – such as Gardenia or Daphne it adds to the whole fun experience.

 Yes, you can enjoy life at any stage and different surroundings or events can make it your Camelot and not necessarily anyone else’s.  Sometimes the smallest things can make the biggest differences.  So, if you are not content with where you are planted, seek those changes and claim them for your own.  It is never too late to change course, and you can begin with small changes, or small adjustments.  Women know this and that may be why they like to rearrange furniture.  It does give the appearance of a new beginning, a new adventure, a visual announcement that things will be different.

 At one time, years ago, the library in Decatur had a lending program for paintings.  I made use of this service by checking out paintings to hang on my wall at home.  I was already using the library for films, and picture books in my classroom.  Just putting up new paintings gave me a psychological lift.  Now I have plenty of lovely paintings, thanks to my sister, Katrine's talent, but I still shift them around from time to time.

 I hope this writing has given you some ideas on how to create an environment of contentment for yourself, or even helped you to see that you already have that place you can call your Camelot.

 

 

How Did Your Grandparents Meet?

There is a current sitcom on television called, "How I Met Your Mother".  That reminded me of the story of how my parents met.  So, for the benefit of my children and their children I will tell what I know about how their grandparents met.

It happened in the early part of 1900.  My father, and their grandfather, Chester Craig Matthis worked in the office of the National Biscuit Company ( still in business) in Louisville, Kentucky.  At that time the  only telephone at the NBC was in my father's office.  If anyone wanted to make a telephone call they had to go to an inside window in his office to place the call.

My mother worked in another part of the office which had no phone.
By her own admission, she used the ruse of needing to place a phone call, in order to talk to a tall dark haired young man who worked in that office.    He was quiet and naturally reserved but she was not above making many trips to that window in order to start a friendship.  She told me herself that she would twist the phone line in order to keep herself there longer than necessary. She knew what she liked and she liked him.  It took several years of courting before they married.   He was obligated to support his parents Professor Charles Wesley Matthis and Jemima Jane Stuart Matthis.   The only way they could afford to marry was for them to set up housekeeping in the home where he lived with his parents.

After several years of courtship, they were married in the Lutheran church in Louisville, Kentucky in November of 1909. The pictures show them at the age of their marriage.  My mother was 20 and my father was 26.  I do not know if they were photographed in their wedding clothes, but my guess is that they were.  I am pretty sure that her clothes were made by her sister Amelia Marker who was an accomplished seamstress and earned her living by custom sewing.

My mother told me  that before they were married she knew she would love Chester's mother and entered into the marriage with that attitude.  However she had not reckoned with the strong willed and strong opinionated Jemima.
The old adage that two women cannot live under the same roof turned out to be prophetic for them.

Jemima did not welcome a new bride in her home where she had been in charge for decades.   The arrangement did not last too long as my father prudently found employment in another part of the state, where he moved with his bride.

His sister Kathleen was married to Dr. O.P.Nuckols in Pineville, Kentucky.We think he influenced Chester to go to Kentucky where the coal industry was thriving. Chester could earn more money there for a home of his own and also help out the old folks, as he referred to them.

As a side note, the first time I ever saw or spoke on a telephone was when I was around four, in1930.  My father worked in an office of the Harlan Fuel Company, a coal mining business.  Someone, I do not remember who, took me to his office.  While there,  he picked me up and held me so I could reach the black phone box attached to the wall.   The speaker was on the base attached to the wall and the receiver was on a hook on the side.  To place a call you lifted the receiver and put it to your ear.  Lifting the receiver was a signal for the operator to ask for the number of the party you wanted.  My father put in a call to  my older sister Frances in nearby Harlan, where she worked in a beauty shop.  While he held me in his arms I spoke to my sister for my first phone call. 

When we moved away from the mining camp and into Harlan,  the county seat, we had a telephone at home. I still remember the number there, it was 507.  My sister worked at her first job as a  switchboard operator. She sat in front of a large wall board and spent her day plugging in and disconnecting callers to the number they wanted.  Some customers shared a phone line.  It was called a party line and was not exactly private!

Telephones became very commonplace in our culture.  It makes one wonder how we ever managed without having the instant communication that we have today.  We mostly wrote letters, which we now refer to as snail mail.  Much has changed in over one hundred years, but human nature has remained the same. We still want to keep in touch with family and friends, we just have more options for doing so.  Our means of communication is considerably more efficient than using the wall phone that I first used back in 1930.

 My parents would love to be able to use the modern ways of communicating that we have access to today.  The wireless communication that we depend upon today would seem impossible to them. I can only imagine what my mother would think of to start a friendship in our modern world.  She would not be too timid to start the conversation, I feel certain of that.