relationships – Page 10

Believe it or not!, Blessings of Habit, Inspiring, Pre-schoolers, Who's the mom here?

It’s the Thought that “Counts”

Posted on February 4, 2013January 21, 2017 by Katharine

There is a sweet little boy attending our church, who reminds me of Count Zinzendorf.

How?

His grandmother is raising him in a large, friendly home in the country, because his momma is having trouble in life right now. Zinzendorf was born to a recent widow, who then remarried a common soldier who didn’t really like the boy. Both she and Zinzendorf’s grandmother thought it better to prepare him for the life of a count by letting him grow up in the grandmother’s castle.

Our little boy is quite bright, as was the count.

He has an amazing interest in the things of God, memorizing prayers, for instance, and wanting to pray them aloud in church like the men do. Ditto with Zinzendorf.

But the big similarity I see is this:

He loves putting money in the offering boxes inside the entrances of our building. Being only six years old, he has no income for putting into the offering boxes. His interest in these boxes is constant. He’s been told the money is for God, for God’s work, etc. One day he caught the church treasurer taking the money out to be deposited later, in the local bank. This would be what most churches would do, but our little guy was completely appalled because he thought the dear lady was robbing God’s money.

She was quick to explain to him that she was not taking the money for herself, but only taking it out of the box to make sure it stayed safe so it can be used for God’s work.

This set the little wheels inside his head to turning. What else could he think but that this church treasurer had an “in” with God Almighty. He was totally awed, then.

And he had a plan.

Knowing a bit about writing notes and taking notes, he has confused the two. Sitting between his gramma and his auntie every Sunday, and watching them take notes in church, he’s begun imitating this practice. Whatever the preacher says, that gets through his normal-six-year-old distractedness, he writes down, asking the adults around him for help with spelling.

He is taking notes.

Then the word-confusion begins. When church is over, he folds up his paper and inserts it into the offering box, commenting confidently, “This is a note for God.” He fully expects the church secretary to make sure it is delivered.

And the comparison, here, to Zinzendorf? As a child, he used to write prayers on small pieces of paper and climb to the top of the highest turret in his grandmother’s castle, tossing them out the window, to get them to God.

The townspeople would find these small prayer offerings floating around on the ground very touching and inspiring .

We’ve got a similarity there, too.

Health, Home School, Inspiring, Who's the mom here?, Wisdom

Intrinsic.

Posted on January 31, 2013 by Katharine

At times far more effective than words, an adult’s body language helps a child develop intelligence.

Instead of saying “good job,” the mother reaches for her tiny fingers, slightly presses her forehead to the little girl’s and gives her a pretend smooch.

The action is simple, but it communicates her tenderness and support effectively.

In His Time

Posted on January 3, 2013January 3, 2013 by Katharine

In the movie Roots I first heard the quote, “God may not always come when you expect Him, but He is always precisely on time.”

That is a comforting thought.

In the Bible, in the book of Ecclesiastes, we find a large portion devoted to explaining that there is a time for everything: A time to laugh; a time to cry. A time for war; a time for peace. A time to be born; a time to die . . .

I had a lot of plans for this week, but they turned out to be untimely.

It was someone’s time to die.

I could say a lot of things about memories of this man, about how strong, dedicated, gentle, creative, funny, and family-loving he was. And that he always thought I was pretty.

But to me, the most important thing about him was that he cooperated with God to engender the baby boy who grew up to be my husband. And then went on to train him firmly in the ways of manhood.

I have benefited so much from this man who is now gone.

No one naturally feels comfortable around death. Many mourn. So we are uncomfortable and we mourn. We don’t like it at all because we were programmed to love life. Life is our default program.

We hold our beloved dying ones as close as possible for as long as possible. Then it’s time. And we cannot hold on to them anymore.

To every thing there is a season and a time for every purpose under the heavens.

They say God makes all things beautiful in His time.

I’m waiting.

Believe it or not!, Inspiring, Womanhood

The Gift of Poverty

Posted on December 6, 2012 by Katharine

If poverty is a help to right living, then this girl was a saint.

I’ll call her “Sharon”. She lived out in the country near us, in a rental cabin meant for hunters. Termite-infested, cold in winter, hot in summer, wet during rains, it provided only privacy for Sharon’s family: her jobless parents and her little sister.

When, after my second son arrived, the carry-in meals were too much food for us, we passed some of it on to this poor family. They returned every single one of those empty Cool-Whip cartons, spotlessly clean. The only time they ever asked us for money, it was for food, and when Sharon’s mother had finished shopping, she brought me the change she had not needed.

Sharon was trying hard not to become a dropout and to keep away from the problems inherent to youth those days. It was easy for me to like her quiet and confident ways. Although there was about ten years difference in our ages, she showed me the kindnesses of friendship and sometimes would visit with me over the phone. She always ended each call by mentioning some difficulty she or her family had encountered and I counseled her briefly. Only after I converted her plight into a prayer request, would she say good-bye. How that impressed me!

Sharron married right after high school and soon was expecting her first child. She still called me occasionally and eventually asked me to visit at the new house her teen husband had built her. What a building! Constructed totally of 3/8” plywood, top to bottom, in and out, and walls painted in the latest style – with a feather duster. It was too hot in there for me, but the small wood-burner was kept at a low roar for the baby’s warmth.

One day I answered my door to find Sharon standing there with something to give me. She said they had to move and wanted to tell me good-bye. On the porch floor beside her stood a diminutive table her husband had made of scrap lumber, mostly 1×1’s. It was as simple as a plywood house, but well-made and painted with a feather duster.

How incredible that Sharon, so poverty-stricken, could even consider gifts for others! It almost brought me to tears.

I have loved the story and the person behind that small gift for a long time. It served well as a fern stand, outdoors when the weather was mild, and indoors when it was too hot or cold for ferns. It soon needed repainting and always bore the colors of the exterior of our houses, wherever we lived. I kept it proudly on display right by the front door and often told the story of this gift.

If you are thinking you’ve already read this story here, before, you’re correct. Oh, BUT – there is a new twist in the ending. Before, I had said what I thought was true, that it had finally sort of decomposed in the ensuing 30 years, but I was wrong. The little table still lives! While visiting my oldest son, not long ago, I spied it on the deck behind his house, still holding up, still holding potted plants, and I (TADA!) photographed it for you all to see: The lovely little table from “Sharon”.

Blessings of Habit, Homemaking, Inspiring, Photos, Wisdom

Be a Gift

Posted on December 3, 2012December 18, 2012 by Katharine

one of Joi's doilies — One of Joi’s Doilies

Joi and her husband were poor. He was a sacker in a small grocery while she raised their four children in a two-bedroom house and they both worked on college degrees at the same time.

Although we were good friends, Joi was a constant source of inadequacy in me. Her scratch cooking, home canning, crocheted doilies, and hand-sewn quilts, all worked on my sense of accomplishment. She would even blend soy beans in her blender for soy milk.

And then turned it into ice cream.

How did she always fill the gaps among their possessions with cheer? How did she know all about healthful eating before the age of computers? How did she know about herbal healing before the herbal renaissance? How play piano beautifully? I would never catch up!

The day came when Joi and her husband completed their degrees and moved to the land of employment. I lost touch with her, but not exactly; I still can feel Joi’s cheer in my life.

One time, for my birthday, she brought me a huge surprise. Simple and cherishable, just like Joi, the gift brought me happiness, that day. Enveloped in kitchen linens was an enormous steaming loaf of bread. You’ve never seen one that big. I was so excited. With it was a bag of spinach from her own garden, immaculately cleaned.

What fun we had loving that sweet gift to pieces, literally! These delicious additions to my birthday supper may seem like an odd gift to you, but Joi knew what it would mean to us, and we saw the love in it.

If I had washed and washed a big bag of spinach and then given it away I’d be missing it. But Joi just smiled her cheery best. If I’d had the aromas of homemade bread floating through my house, for naught, if I’d known that bread was going to someone else’s house, I’d have handed it over very longingly, not cheerily like Joi.

In a way, you could say Joi was the gift.

Health, Home School, Inspiring, Wisdom

Did You Learn to Swim in a Sewer?

Posted on October 16, 2012October 16, 2012 by Katharine

They say life out there is sink or swim.

They say we learn to socialize by socializing. You know — make enough social errors and you’ll learn, eventually.

What if our children are, instead, just learning to like the smell of sewage?

Or that it is good?

I never could get used to it.

People kept splashing sewage all over me.

Told me I was too sensitive.

Sighs.

I kinda wish more were. How about you?

Anyway, I found a Stream of Water that is Alive and cordoned off the section of sewer where it was entering, for my children to learn to swim.

Also gave them swimming lessons, instead of just throwing them in and hoping.

Made more sense to me.

How about you?

____________________

photo credit: Wikipedia

Blessings of Habit, Home School, Inspiring, Pre-schoolers, Who's the mom here?, Wisdom

Remind Me not to Lose My Mind

Posted on September 20, 2012September 20, 2012 by Katharine

During the learning phase of acquiring new habits, reminding can be a good help for your children, or even yourself. Reminding goes beyond repetition. We reserve reminding for when we should already know a fact or skill.

Jesus did this from the cross when He called out the first line of Psalm 22, which minutely foretells the Crucifixion. Every Pharisee at the foot of the cross knew He was reminding them of the entire Psalm and its dire implications for them.

The child, who stops interrupting when Mom slightly raises her hand, is using a reminder. The stopped driver, who hears a slight horn tap and then proceeds at a green light, is using a reminder. The newcomer, who consults a photo-directory to recall a new acquaintance’s name, is using a reminder.

The word, itself, “remind,” means “pay attention, again.” We can cause our children to pay attention more often by the simple service of reminding them. Paying more attention can make the difference between knowing and doing.

During difficult memorized recitations, I have reminded my children with signed alphabet initials of tricky words or phrases. A childhood playmate received reminders from her mother in the form of having to return to the door, and open and shut it quietly, 20 times, to overcome door slamming. “Go back and walk,” is a common reminder at our house: Walk, the first time. Occasionally, even a policeman will give a warning instead of a ticket, if he judges that a reminder is enough.

Bible verses posted on the walls of our homes reminded our children of heart attitudes. Educational and health charts did the same for their earthly needs.

Reminders should be gentle because we realize anyone can forget something. Reminders can be exciting to our children, rather than dreaded, if we are willing to take the trouble to make them exciting. Our children are worth that trouble.

Silly faces on a small poster, can give as much reminder as a cross voice, but with more effect. A bright yellow sticky note hangs on a sharp corner of our cabinets with a drawing of an orange duck on it, to remind passers-by to “duck,” and not hit their heads on that corner. Computers remind us of our fallibility with the “Are you sure” page. The tiny poem, “Thank God for Dirty Dishes,” framed and visible near the kitchen sink, reminded a small, reluctant heart to take comfort at our house for many years.

And I must remind you to remind your children of your love for them with plenty of hugs, kisses, and favors.

More tomorrow.