Chapel of Hope Stories

Dear Reader:

Saturday afternoon I got home from running errands and realized I had left my television on. I had been watching Martha Stewart on PBS, before leaving, and now the show For Your Home was playing.

The host, Vicki Payne, was having a cypress walkway built to go through her garden…located on the shady side of the house. She was showing her television viewers a variety of shade-tolerant perennials that would do well with little sun.

She, also, demonstrated for the viewers how to separate one large hosta plant into many smaller ones….thus saving a lot of money.

While she was separating and cutting six potentially new hostas…she was happily chit-chatting away and telling us, the viewing audience, why Fall was the perfect season to transplant hostas and other perennials.

It was something she said at this time in the program that grabbed my attention. (To paraphrase)

“Think of transplanting these perennials as finding a new cozy home for them – a niche for each hosta where it will be protected from harm and kept warm during the cold winter. You want them to wake up one warm, spring day, look around, and see that it has been moved to a wonderful new home. ”

“No longer part of a family…but grown and independent….shining in its own beauty.”

“The hosta might recognize some of the other transplanted (family) hostas from the original planter…but it also sees new and different shade plants that are smiling and welcoming it to the new neighborhood!”

……………………

I found myself thinking that I had heard that story before….but it had nothing to do with transplanting perennials. I mulled on it all afternoon and finally during the evening the idea behind the story returned.

It is one of the most beautiful little anecdotes… metaphorically…it told about passing from this world to the next… an account that made the reader feel loved and secure.

(* As hard as I searched I couldn’t find the original story….so I created and adapted the story, according to my memory and imagination.)

“Changing Bedrooms”

Remember, as small children, the times when we fell asleep on the floor or sofa watching television or doing some activity. The next morning we would wake up in our own beds trying to figure out how we got there.

Of course it was one parent or another loved one, who lifted us up and took us to bed. It made us feel so loved and protected to know (upon waking the next morning) that someone cared enough to carry us back to our own bedroom where familiarity and security resided.

As adults, now, what if we consider this same incident (metaphorically) with the process of leaving this world for the next?

What if we “fall asleep” one day…only to wake up in a different bedroom? Puzzled, we look around trying to figure out where we are and how we got there.

The unsettled feeling, we initially experience, dissipates quickly when we realize that this bed and bedroom is a composite of every dream we ever had about the perfect bedroom for us.

It is filled with our favorite stuffed animals, dolls, and toys from our childhood, posters from our teenage years, awards and degrees from our schools and jobs. Most importantly the room is filled with loved ones.

Photos of dearly beloved grandparents, parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, children, grandchildren and special friends fill the room. All the photos are smiling down on us.

The bedroom suddenly begins to glow with a most beautiful light and all the questions forming in our minds are answered without one single word being spoken.

We know, intuitively, the light is God…His love permeates every single pore of our body. We have never felt a love like this in our entire life on earth. We tremble with happiness !

It is God, our Father, who picked us up and carried us to our new bed, bedroom, and home. Now everything starts to look, smell, and sound like home. Not our home on earth….but the home we yearned for, unconsciously, throughout our stay on earth.

Joy engulfs us! WE ARE HOME! Finally we are home again with our Father. But we are not alone….the photos hanging on the bedroom wall begin to tremble and shake.

The pictures disappear as the people in them re-appear….all young, happy, and delighted to see us again! The bedroom begins expanding until no longer are four walls visible….

We look out on the most glorious scene ….it is a garden with waterfalls, animals and flowers of every species ever created. From the mist under the waterfalls comes man. Millions begin walking towards us.

Slowly we recognize faces of people who helped us along our journey….neighbors, teachers, coaches, professors, pastors, and friends.

The wind picks up and a beautiful melody is heard with the rustle of wings overhead…the angels are singing and welcoming us back home.

A heart-shaped trellis beckons us to enter the garden…to return back from whence we came. It’s been a long journey…it feels so good to return where love abides eternal.

……………………………

So until tomorrow….like perennials…Father…Let us know when to separate ourselves to begin our own journey to a new home waiting for us …a new but familiar location that we thought was gone forever…a home where we shine in God’s Glory!

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

* Look what I saw yesterday, in a neighbor’s yard while walking around….this blackberry bush filled with ripening blackberries….the “Blackberry Winter” did accelerate the growing process!

 *** Stop the Presses….A News Flash Just Occurred….I just woke up to the SUN!!!!!!!!!!! Where have you been my big, round friend…I have missed you!

First I saw my shadow and then I was so excited I climbed to the top deck of the cottage in the back and figured out how to take a panoramic photo shot…………so happy…do you see the light filtering through the tree? So beautiful!

Here is my grove of trees (God’s Temples) at the back of my house…you can see the trees in the panoramic ….but here is a closer picture.

(* Doodle gave me the redtips for my birthday years ago…and now they are trees…speaking of Doodle and Harvey…They went to the famous rose gardens in Orangeburg Sunday and walked some of the trails….They saw many “temples” (groves of trees) on their walks.)

My shadow….I can’t believe I have a shadow again…thank you sun!

I now have ten lilies and everyone is perfectly beautiful….they really light up the garden….my rosemary is gigantic…think I will get a sign made for it telling everyone who enters the garden to grab a piece and smell it while walking through the garden! And Welcome New Lovelies ….I hope you like it here!

Dear Reader:

This might not be a grove of trees, by anyone’s imagination, still in my imagination…I do see a grove of four trees (one day) forming a perimeter to shade and embrace a special sanctuary for years to come. A place where magic, imagination, and spirituality live as one.

This first line from the famous poem “A Forest Hymn” – title of today’s blog- (William Cullen Bryant) brings back so many memories of church camp. As homesick as I was at summer camps…I found peace each evening at Vespers as we sat around a campfire in the middle of a forest full of trees… reading scripture, telling Bible stories. and singing beautiful old hymns.

I remember feeling closer to God, for the first time, in those old childhood camp setting memories! The stars seemed to me to be angels winking down at us and letting me know I was not alone. I had never felt that in a man-made edifice of worship.

John Muir, the famous naturalist and spiritualist, re-told an incident he saw involving mother nature and the trees that convinced him that trees have feelings too….and like all of us, they simply want to live another day in God’s beautiful playground…not cut down to build a man-made conception of worship.

Clouds at noon occupying about half the sky gave half an hour of heavy rain to wash one of the cleanest landscapes in the world. How well it is washed!… How fresh the woods are and calm after the last films of clouds have been wiped from the sky!

A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship.

But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease. Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings, while incense is ever flowing from the balsam bells and leaves.

No wonder the hills and groves were God’s first temples, and the more they are cut down and hewn into cathedrals and churches, the farther off and dimmer seems the Lord himself. ~John Muir, 1869 July 24th

Since my yard is surrounded by tough, old pine trees that survived Hurricane Hugo….I found these two reflections on pine trees familiar and endearing.

You can live for years next door to a big pine tree, honored to have so venerable a neighbor, even when it sheds needles all over your flowers or wakes you, dropping big cones onto your deck at still of night. ~Denise Levertov

(* I have experienced both)

Who leaves the pine-tree, leaves his friend,
Unnerves his strength, invites his end.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Woodnotes”

These three quotes about our green friends spoke to me…and made me smile.

1) The trees are God’s great alphabet:
     With them He writes in shining green
     Across the world His thoughts serene.
~Leonora Speyer

2) There is always music amongst the trees in the Garden, but our hearts must be very quiet to hear it. ~Minnie Aumonier

3) The oaks and the pines, and their brethren of the wood, have seen so many suns rise and set, so many seasons come and go, and so many generations pass into silence, that we may well wonder what “the story of the trees” would be to us if they had tongues to tell it, or we ears fine enough to understand.

~Author unknown, quoted in Quotations for Special Occasions by Maud van Buren, 1938

……………………………

And now perhaps our tree huggers’ anthem that we have come to adore.

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
They took all the trees
Put ’em in a tree museum
And they charged the people
A dollar and a half just to see ’em
Don’t it always seem to go
That you don’t know what you’ve got
’Til it’s gone…

~Joni Mitchell, from “Big Yellow Taxi,” lyrics written circa 1967–68, © Siquomb Publishing Company

( Take a minute and quietly listen to the lyrics again of this song that loves God’s Playground and warns of man’s destruction of it)

Counting Crows – Big Yellow Taxi ft. Vanessa Carlton …

I might not be a “tree hugger,” as defined in our society, but I have certainly been known to pat a tree on its bark and wish it a good day!

That is why I will have the grandchildren name their trees as they get older…because I want them to understand that a tree is a friend who will always be there for you…to listen and lift your spirits…if you let them.

Mary Fennermore, Chris Frazier’s friend, and our blog friend too, who lives in Delaware….commented on how trees have played a big part in her life and then shared a wonderful poem associated with her father’s memory.

In reading your blog every morning it never ceases to amaze me of the similarities in our lives.  The most recent is our mutual love of TREES.  As I child, here on the farm, I spent a lot of time outside, climbing trees, swinging on my swing in the huge black walnut tree next to our house and walking through the woods, filled with all sorts of trees.  To this day I love to look up into ANY type of tree and see the pattern the leaves make against the sky (like I did when I was swinging!) 

My grandfather planted an English walnut tree that is, some 80 years later, a focal point of our Country Store.  Everyone comments on it!  So to me, trees speak of the past, the present and the future and I am blessed by their timeless beauty and strength.  Everywhere I go trees “say” different things to me.  For instance….Palm Trees say….”You’re on Vacation…YAY!!”  And apple and peach trees say…”Aren’t we miraculous?  Our flowers turn into fruit!”

Let me leave you with a poem that I found in some of my Dad’s “stuff” many years ago that I had made into a calligraphy picture to hang in our farm office some years ago.

Old men who Plant Young Apple Trees – The Whole World Leans on Such as These!!!

 The day that he was seventy-two,

Grandfather had a task to do:

A special job that could not wait,

Lest some tomorrow be too late,

Slow were his movements, but content

His heart, as to the task he bent

Of setting out young apples trees ~

Six slender stalks.  Upon old knees

He knelt to place young roots with care ~

Whose fruiting he would never share.

Someday a child he’d never know

Would wander down the shaded row,

Some star-eyed girl, some lusty boy,

To share his apples – and his joy.

(S. Omar Baker)

So until tomorrow….Help us Father be a good a steward to your gift of life as our friends, the trees, are. We can learn a lot from them.

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

* Pam Stewart had put this picture/message on FaceBook and I asked her if I could use it for the blog…love the message.

Dear Reader:

I knew there was a reason why I had left three colorful quilts on the rocking chair and three logs in my basket stockpile by the fireplace.

A “blackberry winter” came to visit bringing with it unusually cool, damp weather….burr! Thursday evening I built a fire for the first time since February…probably the last one for the season and it felt so good!

I grabbed the top quilt from the rocking chair and curled up in it on the sofa…lowered the lights and I had a “blackberry winter” snuggle! Delightful!

Blackberry winter is a colloquial expression used in the south…especially, in the Piedmont and Mountain regions, that refers to a cold snap which often occurs in late spring (following Easter) when the blackberries are in bloom.

The Blackberry winter expression  describes the belief that a spring cold snap helps the blackberry canes grow faster.

Grandmother Wilson always warned us grandchildren not to pack up our sweaters and jackets until the “Blackberry winter” passed at the end of April or early May.

In other areas of the country…you hear colloquial expressions about “dogwood winters” or “redbud winters“….depending on what is blooming (that coincides with a late spring cold snap) each year.

The funniest one…which dates back pretty far…(but which Grandmother Wilson remembered as a child growing up) was a “Linsey-Woolsey Britches winter,” referring to a type of winter long underwear which could be put away after the last cold snap.

Today weathermen just call these cold or hot snaps “fronts”….I think the old expressions are much more colorful. Whatever we call them…Thursday was definitely chilly. The house never warmed up and my toes and fingers stayed cold all day.

However…all the flowers in the garden seemed quite happy with the unexpected cold snap….the pansies, especially,  have beamed more brightly than usual…they were beginning to look a little straggly…now they had a new lease on life.

My roses (in the giant pot Vickie gave me last year) are popping out all over…like pink popcorn! And all the climbing, flowering vines have taken off in “hot” pursuit of fences and posts, on which to ascend.

The moon flower and morning glories (vines) are attaching to the strings Anne and I so diligently labored over on the porch.

And here comes the honeysuckle and a beautiful flower…(reminds me of the wild Cherokee Rose)….both are so pretty.

My Daphne is blooming for the first time.

Even though this past week has been pretty cloudy, rainy, and gloomy-looking for most of it….there is a silver lining…I haven’t had to water so I am saving money on my public works bill and the electric bill (which has been ghastly the last few months!)

Besides…I love blackberries….in pies, tarts, yogurt, any way it is served…so if a little cool weather is needed to assure a good blackberry crop…then bring it on!

It won’t be long until we will look back on these cool, cloudy days as a blessing and yearn for their return. God gives us what we need when we need it….so let’s get out there and enjoy life in any type of weather just like all these beautiful plants and vines!

My Passion Flower vine is stretching for the fence, as hard as it can…(even with the old wooden clothespin attached so it won’t fall back down the stick!)

So until tomorrow (Mary Jean Irion)

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so.

One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

* When I received this picture from Walsh…I had to laugh…Rutledge is not only the ladies man but he likes older “women” too!…The girls’ parents (Katie Kelien and Sarah Bailey) went to pre-school, elementary, middle, and high together with Walsh…he was always (according to Dee Dee his beloved grandmother) Wallace Dickey Dingle….graduation night from kindergarten one little fella wouldn’t get his “diploma” unless the teachers called him that name too! Ah…memories…and here we go again!

Dear Reader:

The title quote for today’s blog is one that many of you probably recognize…especially if you were/are a Simon and Garfunkel fan, like myself.

It is the opening lines in the popular song –  The Sound of Silence...made even more popular by the (quite memorable) movie The Graduate. (Here is a three minute video clip from the movie…featuring The Sound of Silence.)

The Graduate – The Sound Of Silence (Soundtrack) – YouTube

The first line (of the lyrics) says:

“Hello darkness, my old friend…I’ve come to talk to you again.”

How many times have we talked to the darkness…our old friend? Except….for most of us….darkness, in the form of insomnia, becomes more of an enemy than a friend.

Like almost everyone I know…these nights appear, with no warning, to play games with our minds. And even if we are too tired to play…we find ourselves throwing the dice in the game called “What If?” The problem with this game is ….no one wins…except insomnia.

As I would rock Jakie these past couple of days in his darkened nursery I would find myself so-o-o sleepy… I couldn’t keep my own eyes open. It was that wonderful carefree drowsiness from childhood that has eluded me since adulthood. No worries or concerns…just peace…and trust…in the gift of sleep.

I would put the sleeping Jakie in his crib and close the door…that is when it happened. Instead of going to the sofa or bedroom and falling asleep in this wonderful drowsiness of a childhood-like trance….I would pop awake…shake my head….and think about everything I could get done while the baby slept.

Babies and little children can fall asleep anywhere….even during an Easter Egg Hunt.

But not me…if I start to feel drowsy during the day…instead of giving into this natural cycle of life…I fight it…so I will sleep during the night. Stupid reasoning actually…since when I have given in…I actually find myself sleeping better that night too.

I don’t know how any of our Presidents have managed to get any sleep in the White House. I think I would stay awake for four years…scared of all the “What if’s” that could happen  any minute anywhere around the world…and they usually do sooner or later.

But, even for Presidents..most of what man worries about never comes to fruition…

Jefferson: “How much pain has cost us the evils which have never happened.”

Coolidge: “If you see ten troubles coming down the road, you can be sure that nine will run into the ditch before they reach you.”

It is true. We worry about things that exist only in our minds as possibilities…not certain realities.

We really have to laugh at ourselves for our predicament of insomnia most of the time…as seen in the following quote:

Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, “Where have I gone wrong?” Then a voice says to me, “This is going to take more than one night…you might as well get some sleep.”

-Charles Schulz-

Our monsters from childhood (that hid under the bed or in the closet once upon a time) continue to come out at night for adults and they, too, have all grown up…bigger and “badder.” Sometimes…it is confronting our very souls that scare us the most.

“In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o’clock in the morning.“

Scott Fitzgerald

By morning…all the monsters are gone…leaving us feeling as embarrassed as our child counterparts for all the “fuss.”

“I realize that from the cradle up I have been like the rest of the race-never quite sane in the night.”

-Mark Twain-

In modern society…one of the worst monsters is “over-thinking”…..best described in this quote by the actor Anthony Hopkins.

“We are dying from overthinking! We are slowly killing ourselves by thinking about everything! THINK THINK THINK…..tick tock tick tock. Don’t we realize the human mind is not the final answer?”

When I have the occasional sleepless night…I have learned to get up and do something…just don’t lie there. In fact some of my best blogs have been written in the wee hours of the morning. My mind seems sharper and my feelings deeper than the “surface” exposure during the day.

“Nighttime is really the best time to work. All the ideas are there to be yours…because everyone else is asleep.”

-Catherine O’Hara-

I used to catch up on emails on sleepless nights… but I would get too many replies asking me what I was doing up at 3 in the morning….too much trouble to do double correspondence.

…………………………………………

So until tomorrow….When we can’t sleep…Remind us Father to trust you to help us with our problems. Pry the reins off our hands, help us down off the horse, and tuck us into bed with a promise and a kiss to protect us and love us forever.

“Today is my favorite day” Winnie the Pooh

* Update on the garden: I could hardly wait to see my garden yesterday morning….here are the latest smiling faces…”Welcome my Pretties”!

The title picture is a photo I took of this little book that I got at Simple to Sublime. I use it to jot down ideas wherever I go….there are two things I must have at all times and that is a camera (iphone) and notepad. This book contains a quote (the ones used today are all in this book and more) and then a page beside the quote for reflection.

What is wrong with us…when we get to be “adults?” I have come to the conclusion that I act like an idiot. Here I am retired and have all the time to nap like a child…but instead I manage to add more items to my “to do” list…thus knocking out the time for a pleasurable catnap.

Dear Reader:

On  a stroll Wednesday (between pop-up rain showers) Jakie discovered trees!

I still pause in wonder and gratitude (now in reflection) for the observation of these magical, spiritual moments.

Jakie had gotten up from his morning nap around 10:30… by then an early morning shower had already gone through…but the turn-around was just as fast –  the sun was shining brightly…so off we went. We cut down a street in Mandy and John’s neighborhood that drops you off at a pier overlooking the water. It is my favorite street to stroll on.

The sun was high enough to send shadows racing along the streets from the over-hanging limbs from a variety of trees along the picturesque street.

I was so caught up in my own joy of being outside with my little Jakie and studying all the gardens and flowers in the various yards that I didn’t realize, at first, what was happening with him.

He was sitting in the stroller in his car seat facing me…so I could observe his expressions. Perhaps it was the shadows floating over his face that first caught his attention from the trees….we had passed several homes when I realized something special was happening …a little smile would creep on his face… then it would disappear…only to return again.

It took a few minutes of observation to discover it was the trees that were fascinating him. When I slowed up by the next tree I stopped.. I said “tree” several times and pointed to the high branches… “pretty, pretty tree.” He grew strangely quiet (from all his earlier baby gibberish) and it felt like he was in some type of communion or spiritual zone that left me out.

I began taking a picture by each “stop” and the awe and wonder in his eyes never stopped. It didn’t matter what type tree he was looking at….the marvel never ceased.

At one old oak tree with low limbs…I jumped and pulled two leaves off….putting one in each hand…when we returned home he was still holding and looking down at them.

The gift of witnessing my grandson see the beauty of a tree for the first time in his almost seven months of life …felt strangely like being re-born again and getting a chance to experience all of God’s gifts to us fresh…as the first dew drops on the morning roses.

*( I detour by speaking of roses…but my across the street neighbor, Vickie, asked if she could plant a rose bush by my fence corner…(since her yard doesn’t get enough light and she would be able to see it from her own front yard)….I screamed “YES”! Here it is with raindrops still on it.)

Robert Frost once wrote of trees:

Tree at my window, window tree
My sash is lowered when night comes on;
But let there never be a curtain drawn
Between you and me. — Robert Frost

Mankind likes to analogize trees being like humans (limbs for branches, blood for sap, hair for leaves, trunk like a body….etc.) But perhaps it is the other way around. Henry Thoreau said this about the “heart” of trees. Quote:

“The trees indeed have hearts.” wrote Henry David Thoreau, “with a certain affection the sun seems to send its farewell ray far and level over the copses of them, and they silently receive it with gratitude, like a group of settlers with their children.“

Like humans all trees are different…even in their own species. Why? Because all trees have a continual fight going on throughout their existence on earth…they must fight for their share of the light.

Sometimes this means twisting or contorting into strange and different shapes…but the light is calling and they must do whatever needs to be done to follow.

So until tomorrow…(from the Trees of Endor)

Trees purify the air;
they also purify the mind…
If you want to save your world,
you must save the trees.

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

* I, so enjoyed my stay with the grandchildren…(and, especially getting to keep Jakie to get closer to him)…Every grandchild has a different personality…which makes it so much fun! Jakie is the quiet, musing child with a sweet smile on his face almost always.

Here are some photos from my three days with Mandy and the kids…. Mollie and Lach came to visit and have lunch Tuesday.

Jakie loves his little cousin….even the size difference…which seems substantial now… will one day subside as their age difference narrows…they will both be in the same grade…hopefully together.

Photos from an earlier stroll the night before with Eva Cate riding her bicycle…I got some gorgeous pictures of the sun setting on the way back home…with the purple wild lilies in the marsh behind Mandy’s home.

Jakie tried to be the gracious host and plant a “kissing cousin” smooch on Lach…but he was having none of it!

Eva Cate is a big helper with little brother Jakie….even feeding him!

* I saw this wooden carved statue in one yard when Jakie and I were strolling and just loved it….I couldn’t figure out what the little ‘boy’ was holding…a turtle…don’t you love it?

* And now to finish off a most wonderful Monday…before leaving for Mt. Pleasant….I left Vickie patting the last shovel of dirt on the roses and ran by Anne’s before I hit the interstate. She said she had a riddle for me.

She gave me three clues which I recognized as a painting…another squeal session ensued….what a day…roses and now another flower….an original from Anne for my living room (with her furniture on the B&B side) It is almost finished.

Isn’t it BEAUTIFUL? A Camellia!!!!  What a day! What friends! What friendship!

Thank you, Anne, from the bottom of my heart! I will treasure it forever!

Dear Reader:

The food served at the wedding Sunday evening was in such abundance…it took one’s breath away. There were “stations’ throughout the premises, inside and out, where “snacks” were served of southern cuisine…like boiled peanuts, deviled eggs, southern relishes and jams for all types of breads.

Then upstairs there were more stations for the main courses. One was shrimp and grits…along with different fillets of fish. Next to it were loaves of cornbread and different homemade rolls and biscuits. The combination of smells was intoxicating!

Loaves and fishes. It reminded me of a devotional message that Anne had just sent me over the weekend. I had read it before getting ready for the wedding.

It is a thoughtful message and contributes to the theme we have been addressing lately…. the power of the story and its place in our lives today.

Dear Reader:

Jerry Falek, master storyteller, told us in Sunday’s blog, that:

 …The wisdom of elders is available to us whenever we want it. It’s in the old stories.”

He was referring, in this instance, to folk tales and fairy tales…but isn’t this statement true of Bible stories?

For no reason (out of the blue) I started singing one of children’s’ favorite hymns….Tell Me the Stories of Jesus the other day on the way home from the Aldergate Methodist Church presentation.

When I got home I googled the origin of the hymn and discovered a wonderful blog site (The Meltdown Continues) by Keith Hunt… who had done research on this same hymn….adding some personal anecdotes….very compelling and heart-warming. Here is the story behind the story of the hymn…

Tell Me

the Stories of Jesus

William Henry Parker, 1845-1929

 Tell me the stories of Jesus I love to hear.… Scenes by the wayside, Tales of the sea, Stories of Jesus, Tell them to me.

It all began in  the summer of 1885…with a warmhearted Baptist businessman in Nottingham, England.

His mind settled on the young students in his Sunday school class. Wanting attention. Needing direction. Always tugging at him with one request: “Tell us another story.”

Before the day was over, William Parker had written the lyrics of this song made memorable by the soothing melody it later inspired, when a publisher ran a contest to find a fitting tune.

Parker probably knew the then-popular “Tell Me the Old, Old Story,” written twenty years earlier by Britisher Kate Hankey. Her “Tell Me” is drawn from a long poem titled “The Story Wanted,” in which the narrator begs a gospel story: “Tell me the story slowly … often … softly … always … simply, / As to a little child.”

Tell me—tell the children-—-the story. Many Christians have grasped hold of the challenge today. Others are rediscovering their heritage. I recently read of a mainline pastor who reshuffled leadership priorities—when he discovered his Sunday school children could not name one Bible story that had any relevance to life here and now. Suddenly retelling stories to children seemed more important than tending to endless administrative tasks.

“Tell me the story” It’s a request of every generation of children. Every year at her birthday dinner, my young friend Glenna asks her mother the same question: “Tell me the story about the day I was born.”

I vividly remember an incident one summer evening in 1985. ( a hundred years after William Parker wrote “Tell Me the Stories of Jesus.“)

I was visiting my parents for a weekend, and another guest graced the house: my youngest niece, a toddler still in diapers, just beginning to string words into sentences. With granddaughter Elizabeth snuggled at his side, my father “read” through Peter Spiers Noah’s Ark picture book. Telling the story. Naming the animals. Walking the rainbow. Closing the book.

And then came Elizabeth’s supplication, as basic as it can be: “Read again.”

Repeat the stories. Our children need to hear them.

Long ago and far away does matter. Here and now.

First let me hear how the children – Stood round his knee;

And I shall fancy his blessing – Resting on me.

So until tomorrow…(Hunt’s beautiful prayer)

Lord, give me a new appreciation of the old, old story that you chose to leave with us. Your story. Our story. The Good-News story. Give me opportunity to tell the story in a fresh way to someone—of any age—-who is eager to hear it.

“Today is my favorite day” Winnie the Pooh

* An interesting side-note: The painting in the title photo came from the children’s Bible Story Book by Egermeiers….my publication dates back to 1955…although the first publication was in the 1920’s….

My younger brother David and I received this children’s Bible Story Book from my cousin, Elaine. Her mother wrote the inscription because my cousin was severely brain damaged as an infant…when she was given too much penicillin for a high fever… about the time it had just come on the market for doctors everywhere.

Today she lives in a special home and we correspond. She writes like a first grader and her letters are beautiful to me. So many memories came flooding back as I looked for a picture for the blog and found this wonderful treasure instead.

* I headed over to Mandy’s to help her with Eva Cate and Jakie, after Libby left Monday… while John is at an out-of-town meeting until Wednesday. I am sure I will return with lots of fun stories.

Dear Reader:

John Dewey was right when he observed that if a problem is well-stated (which correlates to much thought-out problem solving) then the solution is already half-solved.

I learned this lesson with an everyday problem I encountered while buying a jacket and shell for a wedding and cocktail reception for Jackson’s niece.

I went to Dillards and I was steered right to the perfect sales clerk…kindest person I have ever known. I told her that I needed a cocktail outfit for a wedding reception and I didn’t want to  have any more pants taken up….so off to the Petite Short section we went.

She found me some flowing black pants that actually fit…length and all and then showed me the (title photo) jacket…pretty white jacket with a shell underneath.

The jacket fit fine…but the shell came down low enough to show the scars across my chest. When she sales clerk knocked on the door to see how everything was fitting….I showed her the problem.

She didn’t flinch at the unexpected sight of my war zone...but immediately flipped me around and said that the back of the shell was higher than the front so we had a solution…she asked me to turn the shell around, cut off all the tags, and wear the back side on the front… which now fit like a “boat” style (straight across) top.

While I was shifting the top around…the clerk told me that a lot of companies were now making shells just for this situation (reversible with no tags)….they can be worn either way. She showed me how to remove the tags gently so as not to tear the blouse and viola….problem solved.

Many times…the problems we encounter in life are just that simple…all that is needed is a different perspective…and a little help from our friends.

Yesterday we discussed the importance of storytelling in our lives as a way of addressing problems. This reminded me of one of my favorite stories I used to love performing for children and adults alike. It is a fable based on an old folk story that has been revised numerous times.

I took it and revised it once more…another adaptation of a popular folk tale. One of the origins of the tales goes back to the title : A Kingdom for a Drop of Honey and Other Burmese Folktales (Maung Hun Aung)

This particular version was re-told by Margaret Read MacDonald. (Peace Tales: World Folktales) I, then , made an adaptation of the story from this.

“A Honey of a Problem”

Revision/Adaptation by Becky Dingle

Once upon a time a king sat with his top adviser, eating honey on a piece of puffed rice. It was his favorite treat! As both of them nibbled away…they leaned out the top palace window to see the beautiful, peaceful kingdom below.

The king wasn’t paying much attention to his eating and a drop of honey fell off the puffed rice onto the windowsill. The adviser immediately spotted the drop of honey and offered to wipe it up.

“Oh, don’t bother,” said the king. “That’s not our problem…the servants will clean it up later.”

As the two men continued to dine on their honey and puffed rice…the sun grew warmer and slowly began to melt the honey…until the one drop fell off the window sill down into the streets below… with a big plop!

A fly spotted the honey and immediately began to make a feast of it for himself. Suddenly, a lizard that lived under the palace spotted the fly and honey (two for the price of one) stuck out his long tongue and swallowed the fly.

Unbeknown to the lizard, who was smacking his lips, a cat had witnessed the whole scene, and she pounced on the lizard. But before she could even swallow her unexpected delight…a dog sprang forward and attacked her!

The adviser to the king noticed some commotion in the streets below and made the king aware of the fact that a dog and cat fight was ensuing below them… and then asked if they should call someone to stop it.

“Never mind,” said the king. “It’s not our problem...nothing big.” They continued munching on their snack of honey and puffed rice.

Meanwhile the cat’s owner and the dog’s owner were both accusing the other’s pet of starting the commotion. Words got heated and soon the two men, the pet owners, were fighting each other.

“King, said the adviser, there now appears to be two men fighting each other in the streets.” “Would you like me to call the guards out to put an end to it?”

The king, who was getting quite drowsy from his full stomach and the sun shining on him….said: “Never mind…it is nothing…besides…it’s not our problem.”

Meanwhile…the friends of the cat’s owner and the friends of the dog’s owner now began to take sides and started cheering each friend on to fight harder. Soon both groups exchanged heated words and a brawl broke out between the two factions.

“Oh king!” said the adviser more loudly. “It appears that there is a street brawl going on between a large gathering of men in the square below. Don’t you think we should call out the guards to put a stop to this?”

The king, who was half asleep by now, shook his head, and went to lie down on a couch. “It’s nothing,” he said. “Besides…it’s not our problem.”

The palace’s soldiers, however, did seem to think it was a problem and they marched onto the scene. Soon after… some of the military sided with the cat’s owner, and others with the dog’s. A civil war erupted between the two groups.

Homes were burned, people were hurt or killed, stores were ramsacked, and finally the palace, itself, was burned to the ground. (The king and his adviser barely escaped with their lives.)

The next morning, amidst the lingering smoke, destruction, and carnage, the king and his adviser surveyed the damage.

“Perhaps,” said the king. “I was wrong. It appears that the little drop of honey was our problem“

– A tale from Burma and Thailand

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*When I told this story and got to the refrain where the king always answered with “That’s not our problem” I had the children shout it out with me. Then I added an additional ending to the story for more emphasis on the message from it…with a little “Dingle-Jingle.”

“Solve your problems while they’re small.

If left alone, they will grow tall

And in the end…be our own downfall”!

( I had the children squat down for the small problems, then stretch tall for the second line and then fall on the ground for the conclusion.)

Jerry Falek, the master storyteller… we mentioned yesterday, is right. We can learn from the folk tales of old, even if we don’t have elders in our families to teach us about life and life’s problems.

“A good story is often far more valuable than an answer.”

So until tomorrow…May we be open to different avenues for learning how to best make our way through life…with God as our director.

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

* The wedding! The Ya’s were reunited yesterday afternoon at the the William Aiken House in downtown Charleston for the wedding of Jackson’s niece, Mim to our favorite Scotsman, Chris. Beautiful wedding… sumptous food, warm reunions, and pure happiness. We love you Mim and Chris!

The Ya’s and our favorite Matthew! What a cutie!

  The Ya’s…..

The freedom of  love and happiness for a newly wedded couple and an imprisonment for wine-drinkers..(couldn’t step out on the sidewalks with a wine glass….had to stay “contained” within the William Aiken House premises)….don’t I live a tough life?

Dear Reader:

Saturday morning I got to share some stories with a wonderful group from the Aldergate Methodist Church. It was the annual fund-raiser for the Men of the Church and I am never disappointed when I attend. What is it about men and breakfast…they can cook it…hands down….and they did!

Carol Poole, my friend and history co-hort  (We were social studies coordinators for our districts at the same time and we had such fun working together!) asked me to speak at the Charleston Retired Teachers luncheon earlier and then called me about doing the same thing at this annual breakfast event at her church.

As much as I love writing and sharing my observations of life with the blog…I really miss storytelling. These last two events have reminded me of that fact.

Jerry Falek, master storyteller, made a recent statement in an interview that caught my attention:

Jerry believes profoundly in the power of stories: “I collect stories. I think in stories. When I’m lost it’s because I’ve lost the thread of my own story.”

Haven’t we all used the expression at some point in our lives…“I feel like I am coming apart…unraveling at the seams…someone help me please!”

(Jerry believes the solution is always in returning to the story…our story…we have forgotten our own story or at least a critical part of it!)

I realized as I started storytelling Saturday morning for this group and the laughs started circulating around the room…that I missed “performing.” I missed being in front of people again…and not just pecking away at my computer by myself.

I felt more “alive” than I have in awhile! A couple of attendees came up to me and asked me about speaking at this or that function and I eagerly nodded my head. It is time to encompass my other “love” back into my life.

One way we can begin knitting ourselves back together, following our story’s unraveling….is to look back to our past and identify the issue from it that needs addressing.

Falek believes that many answers can be found in the old folklore and fairy tales of old….(since too many children today don’t have elders in their families to pass down the wisdom of the ages)

Jerry especially likes traditional stories — folk tales and fairy tales.  “We talk about the wisdom of elders,” Jerry says, “but most of us are lucky if we’ve had more than a few elders in our lives. But the wisdom of elders is available to us whenever we want it. It’s in the old stories.”

“When I face a large problem and feel stymied, I go to the folk tale section of the library and begin to read from one side of the shelf to the other until I find the tale that points the way. . . . At this point in my life I’m keenly aware of being at the threshold of the next stage of life. Three faith communities call me elder. I’m trying to get used to people offering me a chair.

“A good story is often far more valuable than an answer.”

Tomorrow I am going to share a story about problems that is based on an old, old folk tale-it might not solve all your problems but hopefully it will make you pause and think about the best way to approach them. I told it several years ago at different functions and then shared it with the blog…(I think back in 2010)

As time passed I began to  notice that the story kept getting pulled up ….so hopefully other storytellers found something new to use for their audiences.

So until tomorrow…Father…Teach us to stop and find the missing thread in our lives before we unravel too far…so we can get back on the right path that leads to You.

After all, it is Your story that provides the solutions to our problems on this earth.

“Today is my favorite day” Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

Wasn’t yesterday a beautiful day in the neighborhood? This is my neighbor Jane’s “Joseph Coat of Many Colors” roses. Aren’t the blooms beautiful…and more colors will emerge throughout the growing season. Just gorgeous!

Right across the street my neighbor, Vickie, has a beautiful, hidden secret garden in her backyard…it doesn’t get much sunshine due to the towering trees and thick foliage…which makes it lush like a mini-rain forest. A soothing sanctuary!

Vickie’s  Japanese cherry tree in her front yard is always a visual treat for us neighbors…especially me who can look out my front yard at this enticing piece of God’s Handiworks!

Summerville is so beautiful this time of year…I feel like I am in an animated 3-D movie sometimes….even last week just driving around our neighborhood Chick Filet to pick up my Asian salad (love that salad!) the snapdragons, poppies and pansies were so breath-taking I had to hang out the window and shoot this picture…(while the car behind me honked!)

Our title of the blog today is recognizable as the introduction to the popular children (and adult) television show “Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood.”  It was the gentleness of Fred Rogers who made the show so memorable.

I returned to the website Mental Floss for some of his thoughts about life….I chose three of twenty the website offered… to share with you today.

Being the history teacher…I liked this quote on important events in  American History.

“A high school student wrote to ask, ‘What was the greatest event in American history?’ I can’t say. However, I suspect that like so many ‘great’ events, it was something very simple and very quiet with little or no fanfare (such as someone forgiving someone else for a deep hurt that eventually changed the course of history).

The really important ‘great’ things are never center stage of life’s dramas; they’re always ‘in the wings.’ That’s why it’s so essential for us to be mindful of the humble and the deep rather than the flashy and the superficial.”

(From The World According to Mister Rogers (Kindle Locations 496-500).

(Isn’t that so beautifully said….and so true about “major” events in history…it is the humanity behind the events that is important to remember.)

This quote is also memorable…along the lines of “We are enough…just the way we are.”

“As human beings, our job in life is to help people realize how rare and valuable each one of us really is, that each of us has something that no one else has–or ever will have–something inside that is unique to all time. It’s our job to encourage each other to discover that uniqueness and to provide ways of developing its expression.”

(From The World According to Mister Rogers (Kindle Locations 463-465).

Being a grandmother….this last quote on the power of generational love touched me.

“One of the greatest dignities of humankind is that each successive generation is invested in the welfare of each new generation.”

(From The World According to Mister Rogers (Kindle Locations 586-587)

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I am beginning to see my garden as a series of vignettes now…snippets of stories from the first plantings to individual growth to date…the garden feels like dozens of children around me encircling my back yard. Even though I haven’t planted any “forget me not” flowers I can never forget the beauty of each flower, plant, or tree as it comes into bloom for the first time.

Now return with me back home from the neighbors and meet my new green “neighbors” …who just entered my garden sanctuary. Black-eyed Susie vines, clematis, hostas, narrow leaf sunflowers. begonias, mimulus (luteus) and much more …

So until tomorrow…Help us Father see vignettes of our story in everything we do…because we are leaving a little bit of us along the way.

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

*When I looked out the kitchen window on the B&B side, the other day, I could see Queen “Green” Eva Cate’s Japanese maple….and then the other three “red” (grandsons) maples….it made me smile!

* IRS Scam Alert–

Walsh almost became a victim of this on-going scam…(since he hadn’t seen any of the televised news segments on it) The call was very intimidating ….the people (pretending to be IRS) on the other side were aggressive and threatening….thank goodness he was able to get Mollie who called the number and and saw the scam information pop up… plus when she confronted the caller ….he immediately hung up.

We are the ones who need to hang up immediately if we get an IRS (You owe back taxes) call!