Larry D. Cartford
My house is on a golf course with a pond. Since I don’t golf, I watch the action. I like to read so I stop once in a while and look up to watch. On Tuesdays the scenery is better as it is ladies’ day on the course. But most fascinating are the birds, really birds over ladies! There is a whole flock of birds out there, has to be between 40 and 50. I contemplate them. That’s how boring my life at times is. I think about how limited the birds’ lives are. They swim, fly onto the golf course, peck at the ground, wander around, fly back to the water and swim. Now I’d call that boring. So I think about their limited life. Yet they seem content. Every day they perform the same routine. However, I never see a dead one, where do they go to die. And like all birds where do they go to sleep or die, who buries them, do they worry, I never see chicks, do they procreate?
Oh well, birds will be birds.
Now do these birds have anything to say to us. I wonder what it would be if they could talk.
Perhaps if they see me they wonder, is that all that guy does is read. Why doesn’t he hit that white ball like those other silly people with their clubs?
And I wonder why don’t they do something constructive, they swim, eat, walk around, fly away and then back again. I’d say that is rather boring.
But you know. I never see them fight, never hear a gun fired, never see them selfishly horde their food, never see them chase other birds off the pond calling them illegal, never see them selfishly protecting their pond, all birds are welcome, they fight over nothing, they only share.
And I wonder. Are the birds living life the way life is intended to be lived?
The First Time I Saw Her
Angels don’t live on earth they say
But I am sure I saw one just the other day
They must be here on earth for just a certain time
But now she’s being called away to a place that must be sublime
She’s done all she can for those she loved
Generations have seen the love in those sunken eyes and have
Been guided gently by those withering hands
She has helped many more than the original four
Her kids number many and friends are more
It’s hard to express the way one feels when you are losing one
You truly love
A person that’s touched your heart and moved your soul it will be hard not to have someone you are used to confiding in, to help you with a problem that was not as great as hers. I remember the first time I saw Annie or Mom as I called her. She looked up from her work to welcome me into her home, she was sewing, a task and a pleasure she surly enjoyed.
Through the years she has counseled me on many occasions, my problems were hers and she wore them as her own.
I believe that a person is here on earth until their task in life is completed. She has nurtured and guided us until such a time that we were capable of carrying on and making difficult decisions without her and believe me it won’t be easy.
Any journey that is long and the destination is in doubt, without her guidance and wisdom could leave us uncertain and unsteady as we find our way. I am sure I will always have her presence and she will always be guiding me wherever she is.
She had a way that always made me feel special. But I know that I am not alone in that arena. She accepted me and let me call her Mom, and she surly was to me. I will truly miss her, but I have the memories and great times we shared to carry me through I love her so.
I am truly grateful to her family that welcomed me and let me share their Mother. But she had plenty for everyone.
She was young, friendly and glowing with love and strength and I will never forget the first day I saw her.
Jacqueline M. Ruffino-Platt
We volunteered at the local school during recess with each little one
Each day we watched them play, and laugh while they were having fun.
We got to the know the parents who belonged to each precious girl and boy,
They were kind and thankful as we watched over them and filled their hearts with Joy.
One Easter time we asked our little friends to share…
An afternoon at our home with their parents very near.
I was busy making each Easter basket filled with a chocolate bunny,
Colored eggs, jelly beans to fill their little tummy.
Before we gave them root beer floats, and foods they could not eat…
We always asked their mom and dad if some little ones had allergies to beat.
Our arrangements with our Easter basket were special for each and every one.
We were happy to see their smiling faces ‘cause they were having fun.
Remember your little ones and share Happiness and Joy.
This was our very special time we shared with each little girl and boy.
Happy Easter to all and to all those special holidays throughout our Land.
It’s Music To My Ears
Harry, Fred and Velma were ambling down the Sun Lakes walking path when Harry said, “How ‘bout lunch at Subway? It’s two for one day.” Fred replied, “It’s not Wednesday, it’s Thursday.” Velma chimed in, “I’m thirsty too – let’s go for a beer!”
Nothing screams “geezer” like being hard of hearing. Not fair! Poor eyesight doesn’t suffer the same stigma at all. Glasses are actually worn as a fashion statement. The same person who proudly sports rhinestone encrusted purple and red designer frames is mortified if a tiny, clear antenna wire is slightly visible around her ear canal.
Now that I am approaching that age where all my senses are being slowly stunted, I believe I will miss my hearing most of all. Sounds are so evocative. They can trigger emotions and memories across the wide range of human experience.
For example, the thoroughly satisfying sounds from the sports world. The swish of a basketball passing neatly through the net, the plunk of a golf ball finding the cup and the crack of a baseball hit off the sweet spot of a wooden bat cannot be duplicated by any other means. Accompany anyone of these unique melodies with the pop/fizz of a can of cold Bud being opened on a hot day and you’ve got a real symphony!
Rather than be intrusive, night sounds can actually create an atmosphere for sleep. The rhythmic chitter of crickets or croak of bullfrogs in the evening and the first chirps of birds in the early morning signal a peaceable kingdom that will bookend a great night’s rest. Any music played at night from a distant party, with the occasional laughter of gathered friends means “sleep on!” – all is well where hearts are happy. When my three sons were teenagers we lived in a house on a hill with a long, gravel driveway. The most soothing sound in the world to me then was the crunch of tires pulling in near curfew. My vigil was over and could finally fall asleep!
Baby sounds can be heart warming or heart wrenching. The early belly laughs you get out of a three-month-old can bring you to tears. So can the first grunts and squeaks from the crib at 3:00 a.m. when you were counting on at least two more hours of sleep!
I’m going to skip over the horrendous sounds that evoke fear, pain and misery: The crash and tinkle of broken glass, the squeal of tires followed by the crunch of metal against metal and the unearthly whine of the dentist’s drill to name a few.
But on the whole, my ears have connected my experiences to emotions and memories I savor. When the time comes, I shall be proud and pleased to sport that little clear wire tucked around my ear – it will be well worth it.
Gary Alan Rose
Birth of Messiah was once foretold,
Birth of our Savior in Bethlehem old.
Three Wisemen came to see the baby King,
And each brought such a precious thing.
He grew up One who worked with wood,
But His word had power where He stood.
Preaching grace and love wherever He went,
He trod the earth until was spent.
With healing He made the lame to walk,
The deaf to hear and the mute to talk.
Answering a man with a desperate plea,
With His hands, the blind could see.
Put to death by power of Rome,
He’d soon return to Heaven, His home.
His death was not to be our loss,
For He carried our burden upon that cross.
Buried in rock with stone to close,
Yet on a glorious third day, He arose.
There is NO Easter without His name,
It was down from Heaven Jesus came.
With power to cover all our sin,
He’s the Way, the Truth, and Life again!