Author Archives: Donna and Karla

Hope: Oatmeal, Sunrises, and The Good Book-By Karla

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Woes in our World

Glance in the mailbox, and there is a way-larger-than expected medical bill. Flip on the television to see North Korea threatening. A couple of weeks ago during the hurricane, I heard that several friends had to grab towels and buckets for the leaks in their roofs due to the massive raining in our area. In the church service, we listen to so many who are sick or having heartbreaking situations. In addition, spiritual warfare is so real. Sometimes, it feels like Satan is standing on a balcony watching for our weakest moments to swoop in and attack.  I often wonder where I can go to escape it all!

I reflect on Pastor Scott’s words and know he is right.  “In today’s world, a person is either coming out of a storm, going through a storm, or one is brewing up ahead.” There is no wonder that we have serious addiction and depression problems in America.  Without God, how do we stand a chance?

Discovering the Wonder in the World

Often my prayer is to notice the little blessings that God weaves into my day.  He is faithful, and when I am looking, they are easily seen.

Early in the school year, I running late.  Thus, I forgot my breakfast. Dashing into the lunchroom, I searched for a yogurt. I am no fun without food or sleep! My face lit when I saw the metal bin of oatmeal. The sweet lady got me a double bowl of oatmeal! It was delicious! Oatmeal takes me back to being a kid at Nana’s. Thus, it warms my heart and has become not only a healthy breakfast but a treat that provides comfort. This lunch lady greets me each time I go into the cafeteria . Now, she saves me a double bowl every Tuesday and Thursday!  

Most mornings God paints me the prettiest sky for my drives in school.  Pinks, yellows, and blues form my wake up blessings.  Sometimes He adds puffy white balls, but other times He stretches the white patches into thin, scattered layers with a hint of color glowing through. Other dawns share the sunshine cascading onto the ground that allows me to vision Christ’s ascension into Heaven.

 

I strive each and every morning to pause and spend some quiet time with God. His word, and I am amazed at how often He speaks directly to my current circumstances or the situations that a loved one might need to hear. I talk with Him, and He talks to me while I pray.  He never asks me to hold on until He has time for me.  He considers me His friend, and I am blessed.

 

My oatmeal, the morning skies, or even reading my Bible will not ease the horrid news broadcasts, the leaks in the roofs, the bills that are due, or the weather catastrophes. But these everyday blessings remind me He is with me throughout my day. Because He walks with me and He talks to me, and He tells me I am His own.  And this makes me smile!

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Hope: Everyone Pitching In -By Karla

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September 2017

  •  Many families mourned for their loved ones lost on that horrible day 16 years ago.
  • Hurricane Irma wreaked havoc in Florida and surrounding islands and states.

     Some weeks seem like there is a flood of tragedies. Thankfully, we have our national guards, our police and sheriffs’ departments, our firemen, and EMT’s. Don’t forget our power company workers; they often go unrecognized for their sacrifices. But, when emergencies occur…they are there.

Uniquely Designed

     I believe God equips each person with particular talents, and when we use these gifts for His glory, our world is a better place. Numerous people volunteer their time to the Red Cross, Salvation Army, and organizations like Georgia Baptist Disaster Relief.

     Help reaches others in the specific ways needed . Supportive and honest insurance company employees often go far beyond the call of duty. Doctors and nurses give extra hours.

A Family Example

     As the reports of Irma’s power was building in the Atlantic last week, Aunt Laurie from California called me asking if her friends from Tampa could stay with me if needed. Not having a clue who they were prior to her phone call, I still readily embraced the possible opportunity, including the statement that they had a place as long as they needed. I know I was among thousands who got a phone call similar to that request.

The southern old-fashion ways of taking care of others seemed to resurface and kick into overdrive. I noticed this kindness was on a large scale too.

Businesses Rallied 

     Six million people were asked to evacuate Florida. Moreover, schools, churches, and campgrounds were opened. Thus, Working together some solutions developed for the millions needing shelter. One media source stated that the state of Georgia opened their homes to strangers, who had traveled long hours to find hotels with no vacancies. The Atlanta Motor Speedway opened its doors for people to seek refugee.

     A veterinarian in Atlanta sent emails, offering to board pets–fee of charge; an equestrian center in Alpharetta gave a shout out to house up to 150 horses for free.

     Our Braves wanted to help, donating free tickets to residents of Florida, who have had to evacuate here to take their mind off their worries.

Media Showed the Good

      Even the media! I notice the news focus on some very sweet pictures. One showed two rescue workers carrying an eighty-year-old from her house in her chair, and I saw a hug exchanged between another emergency worker and a young child.  Among the madness that was happening, someone from the media paused to record a volunteer pick up an American flag that had blown from a house and was washing down the street.  The man held it up, and its stripes waved in the winds.

Hope

     With all the yesterday’s sadness, we have hope. God gives us that.  In return, He wants us to share His love and hope with others around us in need. There are many days that I shake my head at how far we have drifted as a nation, but yesterday was not one of them.

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Clutter: Let It Go -By Donna

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Lately, I have had to let go of a lot of things. Some bigger than others; some easier than others. I am moving into a new chapter in life and with it comes a physical move. As I have boxed up items, I have attempted to also clean out. I consider myself a sentimental gal. I have things that many people would hold on to like my mama’s bible, or my grandmother’s apron, or special Christmas ornaments.

But I also found things that I’m not sure most people would keep. I have a paper plate from each of my three children’s first birthday parties, Simba, Barney, and Winnie the Pooh. I have my retainer that I wore in middle school. I never wore braces, or I probably would have kept them too like Karla did. The button from my college years that reads, “member of the vanishing wisdom teeth club” is still in my possession. I love keeping things from the past.

After being at my daddy’s house recently and visiting the basement and his workshop, I thought to myself, when something happens to my daddy, how will we ever go through all this. My parents built the house in 1966. Fifty-one years of “stuff” has accumulated.

Let it Go

I decided I didn’t need to hoard as much and some things needed to go. After mama passed away, I was given some of her stuff. I slowly realized, that maybe I didn’t really need to keep things like her favorite gown. So over the past years, I have managed to depart with some things. I chunked her makeup, and several years later I even disposed of bandanas she wore when she lost her hair.

But then came…. Well, let me back up…

After mama passed away in 2007, Karla and I were at Daddy’s house going through her belongings. I was collecting more possessions to bring back with me as keepsakes. My mama labeled everything. There was a Nike shoe box marked miscellaneous so I took it. A few days later, I decided to open it and see what to keep and what to toss. At the bottom of the box was a small white Tupperware container. It sloshed as I picked it up. As I opened the lid, I was shocked to see Mama’s false teeth! I took a picture and sent it to Karla, and we had a good laugh.

But, what to do with them?  I could not bear to toss them in the garbage. Call me crazy if you would like, but they were a “part” of her, and I just couldn’t. One relative, who shall remain nameless, offered to bury them at her grave. Instead, I shoved them in the back of a kitchen cabinet. Out of sight, out of mind. But I was comforted by keeping them and not throwing them out.

Ten Years Later

While packing up yesterday, ten and a half years later, there they were! I knew it would be silly to move them with me. My mama would have been laughing at the entire scenario and calling me crazy for keeping them.

Sometimes I just like someone to tell me what to do. I often text Karla and tell her what to say. It may be, “Text me and tell me I am doing the right thing.”  She always obliges, not even knowing the circumstances. Needing a little push, I sent her a message that said, “Text me and say, Donna it’s time. Just do it.”

She replied with, ‘Oh Donna!  It is time! Be Nike! Just do it!” As I read her reply, I tossed them in the trash as tears rolled down my face.

Memories vs. Stuff

Memories and stuff are not the same. Memories are encoded in your brain not in the item. I don’t have to see Grandmother’s apron to picture her standing in the kitchen by the sink humming. An item triggers a memory that is already filed in one’s mind.

I have decided to let some items go, but keep them in another way. I will take a photo of them and on the back, write something about it. This would benefit my grandchildren or great grandchildren who might pull out strange items from a box, wondering whose they were or why they were kept. So as Queen Elsa would sing, “Let it Go, Let it Go!”

Will I get rid of everything? When H-E-double hockey sticks freezes over! Somethings I will never part with like my dead dog’s collar! And that’s ok.

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Not Home Yet. -By Karla

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Gary Chapman’s Five Love Languages is an intriguing read. I learned many years ago that one of my love languages is words of affirmation. My mom was wonderful for me in that area. I don’t imagine she had read the book, but she was always encouraging me to achieve or reassuring me when I was uncertain. In January, I wrote a blog entitled Give Me a K emphasizing Mom as my cheerleader. I hope as I grew older, I gave my mom the same support she gave me.

Being a mom is sometimes a thankless job. Some days are filled with being a taxi service; others are busied as the chef and the bus boy. We run from one event to another to support our children, and there are days in which our pay is smelly socks to be washed. Moms of little ones often get the reward of wearing their babies’ lunch, whether it be before it is digested or after!

Working with sixth through eighth graders, I usually get more eye rolls than hugs, and there are more sighs than thank yous. They don’t really like it when I have to correct them. In Japan, teachers are revered in such high esteem. I tutored a Japanese lady for about five years. It took me forever to help her understand that she did not need to bow to me. She was always thanking me. However in today’s America, gratitude for teachers is not always held in high-esteem.

I don’t mean to complain because I LOVE being a mom and teacher. But, sometimes these two jobs do not always fill my cup in the area of needed love. I give and give until my cup is empty. Pastor Scott recently shared a story that I am holding dear to my heart on days when I get few words of affirmation.

There was a missionary couple who had worked in Africa for many years. As they were returning to New York for retirement, they we tired, had little money, and their health had declined. Soon they discovered that President Teddy Roosevelt was also coming home from a big hunt and was on the same ship.
A band was there to greet President Roosevelt as they docked. Many important people came to welcome him home.
Later that evening, the missionary said to his wife that it didn’t seem right. After all they had done for others, there was no one welcoming and acknowledging their service. He felt his spirit breaking because he had been treated so differently, so unappreciated in comparison. I have served the Lord all my life and have gotten little appreciation. His wife told him he was wrong.
At her request, he went into their bedroom to talk with the Lord. He poured out his heart to God sharing how upset he was for the unfair treatment. In return he heard God say, “You’re not home yet.”

I too think Godly moms and teachers need to remember on those thankless days that we to are not home yet. For when we get to Heaven, our ultimate home, our cups will be overflowing. In the meantime, we should stay close to Him, reading His word and praying to help us persevere.

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Influence: You Never Know -By Donna

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After school today, I went to return something at the mall. As I walked in the store, a fellow, about 20, who was folding clothes, grinned and made a beeline to assist me. He was extremely friendly and polite; he asked me tons of questions about my day. I thought what a sweet boy, which made me glance at his name tag, Robby. Robby, I taught a boy name Robby once. As I looked back up, I saw the face of  a former six-year-old.

When my mind made the connection, I said, “I just realized who you are. I taught you.”

He replied, “You didn’t remember me?”

“I’m surprised you recognized me. That was a long time ago.” I said.

“Of course I do. You were my first grade teacher for a little while. But then they had to disperse the class and move you to another grade. After that year, my family moved, and I changed schools.”

“You are right! That’s exactly what happened.”

“Those were good times. I’m so glad to see you again.” He smiled as he handed me my receipt.

Now, normally I am quick to recognize a former student. But I only taught this child for about six weeks. Having taught school for over twenty years, I have encountered a lot of children. Teachers say they don’t have favorites, but there are some kids, that take a special place in your heart and it never goes away. Though Robby was a great kid, cute as a button and sweet as pie, he was not one of those kids who stole my heart.

The Next Larry Bird

As I walked out of the mall, I thought of a former student, Alan. He was one of those kids. In the beginning, we had no special connection. For a good portion of the year, I looked at him as a good kid to have in my class. He always followed the rules and made good grades. One morning as each child walked into my room, I announced something good I had noticed about them. “And here comes Kay as always sporting her cheerful smile.” “Introducing Denver, who I saw was the fastest runner on the playground yesterday.” “Look at Mike, the awesome artist of the room.” Alan was late that morning, so when he walked in, everyone was in their seat working. As he tried to slip in without drawing attention to himself, I proclaimed, “And here comes Alan, the next Larry Bird! I saw you dribbling ball yesterday.”

In unison, most of the class replied, “Who is Larry Bird?” My reply, “What! Y’all don’t know who Larry Bird is? Am I that old? He was one of the best basketball players ever!” As I explained, Alan stood  grinning from ear to ear. That one comment changed my relationship with that child. From that day on, he became attached to me.

Later in the year, a fellow teacher commented to me, “You need to take him home with you; he needs a real mom.” I nosed around and discovered stories that I won’t share. Let’s just say, he didn’t have a great mom. Nothing horrible, but sad no less. When May rolled around, we made our Mother’s Day gifts. As we bagged them up in the decorated brown paper sacks, he came up to my desk. The eight-year-old crawled in my lap and said, “I want to give mine to you.”

At the end of the year, his mother withdrew him, and they moved away. I cried.

Do Your Remember Me?

About ten years later I was at an out-of-town basketball game, and I saw Alan. I knew instantly from afar it was him. When I saw him head for the concession stand, I took off to speak to him. I was so excited; I couldn’t wait. Walking into the lobby, he looked up, and I smiled. He turned away from me. Surely, he remembers me! How can he not? He treated me like I was his mom. “Hey, Alan.” He turned around and said hey. But the look on his face said to me he didn’t know who I was. “Do you remember me? I was your second grade teacher.”

He smiled and said, “I think so.”  But I really don’t think he did.

I can’t believe Alan was so attached to me and did not remember me. I just knew, even when he was fifty years old, he would recall me! And then Robby who I only taught for six weeks, and I didn’t recognize, was so excited to see me. I guess you don’t always realize the impact you are having on someone.

Sometimes, like with Alan, a teacher’s care impacts a child only in the current chapter of his life because he needs you at that moment. Other students like Robbie you leave a lasting footprint in their life. For a teacher the important thing to remember is you do make a difference.  -Donna

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Reunion: Second Sunday in August -By Karla

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I have always thought our family was normal, but the older I get the more I sense a bit of abnormality. Usually there a negative connotation with this word, but not in our case. We are a rare breed in context with our close-knit kinship and our number of gatherings. For generations, we have assembled for Thanksgivings, Christmases, Easters, the fourth Sunday in June (Off the side of Loving Road), the second Sunday in August, and the third Sunday in August. These days are cherished moments of life.

My Childhood Churches

Growing up, I attended two churches. One was First Baptist of McCaysville/Copperhill with my sisters, mom, and dad. New Hope, also known as Flinthill, was my church on weekends when I stayed with Nana.  The second Sunday in August is the decoration at New Hope Baptist Church in Morganton, Georgia. On this day, we gather for service and eat on the grounds. But first, we adorn the cemetery with flowers to honor our loved ones, who have passed before us. This church holds dear memories for me.

I have always adored listening to the guitars and banjo that grace New Hope church. While we sang the old hymns, Gerald Heaton always amazed me! Even when he was in his 80’s, he seemed to pluck his banjo with as much vibrancy as he did when I was a kid! I thought of how I used to sit with Nana in the choir as she sang in my little ear and I tried to follow along.

Keeping Me Occupied

Looking around in the pine-paneled church, the memories flooded my mind. I can vividly remember as a little girl getting restless during the preaching. Nana would play “put your fingers in my palm, and I will try to catch it” until I would get too rowdy. Then she would pull out the maroon, vinyl, picture pouch to settle me. I love family pictures! I’d sift through the photos smiling, giggling, and pointing until Nana would have to pat my leg and shhh me. Finally, she would exchange the pouch for a baggie of cookies–always two large ones. Those were joyous days!

     The Lord’s Supper

I gave my life to Christ when I was eleven, and I was baptized at First Baptist Church of McCaysville/Copperhill in April of 1979. Granddaddy had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. I can remember being excited and felt so proud to take part in communion. At times, his hands shook badly, which had caused him and issue or two trying hold his “juice cup”. Nana and Granddaddy did not sit together in church, which was quite common for older people in country churches. When I was at New Hope, Nana would softly nudge me during communion. This is my signal to slip out of the pew we sat in, and move across the isle to sit beside him. Even as an early teenager, I was aware of how his pride must have been hurt because he could not to hold his cup. At the same time, this little job made me feel like it was an honor to hold such a special cup for such a special man.

   Amazing Grace 

Most every Sunday, at the end of the service, the congregation would slip out of their rows and walk around the church hugging and shaking hands as we sang “Amazing Grace”. I loved how the members in the church seemed like one big family that loved each other so.

VBS

In my youth years, our Sunday school and VBS classes were small at New Hope, but they were not lacking in Biblical teaching. My Aunt Anna seemed to always be our teacher, now matter our age. We always had such fun! My cousin Stacey, cousin Jimmy, my friend Carlton, and I so enjoyed singing “Just a Little Talk with Jesus”.  Once we insisted on signing “I Come to the Garden Alone“.  Stacey and Carlton had such beautiful voices. Though, at times Carlton’s voice would waiver due to puberty.  We were being so serious and probably thought the angels were smiling at our harmonies until Carlton’s voice cracked! When he got to the word “alone”, his voice shrilled about an octave higher! To this day, I have a hard time getting through the song without bursting out in laughter.

Flint Hill  Founders 

Homer Turner

How would the founders of this little church, established in 1869, have known what it would mean to a little girl named Karla? How could they know that I am thankful it was rebuilt after three different fires? Could Uncle Homer, Donna’s grandfather, have known how important his land donation was for the last rebuilding of the church.

I am grateful for years when it was common for 30-40 people to be baptized in a nearby river. Many of those are my relatives. I am so glad that a man named Leeander Turner decided to honor his wife, who is buried at New Hope, by putting flowers on her grave in the late 1800’s. Because of his actions, many churches began to set aside a day each year to honor their loved ones, which was the beginning of church decorations and homecomings in the Blue Ridge area.

The congregation of Flint Hill has influenced others for generations. Rarely, do we realize how often we affect other people. God has planned for every person to do his part, helping others to see His glory.

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Sisters: Adopted In -By Donna

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According to the internet, the first Sunday in August is National Sisters Day! Many of my friends and cousins had sisters, but I was the only girl in the middle of two brothers.  (You can read more about that in the blog, Brotherly Love, located in the February Archives.)

Growing up, I never longed for a sister. I believe it was for several reasons. When I was very young, my little brother played everything a sister would have from Barbie dolls to house. As a teenager, my cousin Lisa spent most of the summer at my home, so I had a temporary sister. In addition, two weeks out of the summer Karla and I stayed together.  Obviously, when I went off to college, I had my fill of females in my dorm. Who needs a sister?

Mama

When I lost my mama in February 2007, I realized the reason I never yearned for a sister was because she was that “sister” figure in my life. She was my confidant, shopping buddy, shoulder to cry on, psychologist, and more. Mama was the one to call when there was an embarrassing question that I didn’t want to ask anyone else. She always had advice about my kids. She knew me inside and out. But when Mama died, despite my close cousins and friends, I felt a gaping hole. 

Karla was always there for me, above and beyond, but over the course of the year, after Mama’s passing, I really became aware of what it meant to have a sister. I had watched it from afar. I saw Karla, who had lost her mother a few years prior, and her three sisters.  During the months and years after their mom died, she always had her sisters checking on her, helping her, loving her, and grieving with her. Over the years, Karla had become the sister I never had. But, wow she had three. When one couldn’t be there, another stepped in. My brothers are wonderful and would do anything for me, but there are things that boys just don’t understand. Now that mama was gone, I realized how special a sister was. 

Sisters

One day, I expressed my feelings to Karla about how lucky she was to have sisters. I believe it was the next day that I received a text from Lynn, Karla’s oldest sister and the Matriarch of our generation. It stated that I was now a sister to them. I smiled at the gesture and knew Karla had shared with them my thoughts, but didn’t really think a lot about it. But over time, I came to realize it was not just a “gesture”. I began to be included in group texts between the sisters. They began treating me as if I was one of them. And the thing that melted my heart was that all of their children began calling me “Aunt Donna”.

I was not fortunate enough to have a birth sister, but God has blessed me with multiple sisters, and I didn’t even have to share my clothes with them growing up! But as you can see from the picture, mine probably would have been a little too short for them.

 

 

 

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Relaxation: Not Your Normal R & R. -By Karla

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It is rare when one can say they have been on vacation (five states in ten days) with two Rachel Elizabeth’s! One Rachel is my youngest daughter, and the other is her best friend, who I call my fourth daughter.

If I was making a commercial, I could list the individual ways we spent money: airfare, rental car, gas, hotels, and food.

But instead, I choose to focus on the priceless parts of our trip. The longer I live, the more I have learned to appreciate the senses God gave us.

Gift of Sight

     I etched some visions from this trip into my heart. I had the pleasure of watching my “fourth daughter’s” face light up,  seeing the beauty of the west coast. Her enthusiasm of seeing the Golden Gate Bridge stretch over the bay was precious. Driving up Hwy. 1, which weaves along the coast, we watched the waves crash into the rocky terrain. We talked about God’s power. His might was also seen in the enormous redwood trees! One of my Rachel’s most cherished sites was seeing her Aunt Jeanie and Uncle Bill’s enthusiasm when they greeted her. She seemed to be making mental photographs of her grandparents, knowing it will be a while before she saw them again.

     Perhaps, the most precious site on our whirl–wind trip was our amazement as Great-Grandma Mona, who is 93. On afternoon she slid into the floor for my Rachel to play with her hair. Then she practically jumped up out of the floor!

Scents

Refreshing smells of salt in the ocean and sweet perfume made me smile over the past ten days. The odor of urine, from the mass of homeless people on the streets of downtown Portland, made us so grateful for our blessings.

Scrumdiddlyumptious 

Ah, the food that our mouths inhaled! I savored clam chowder on the pier in San Francisco. We ate burgers cooked by my sister-in-law outside Sacramento. Then in Oregon we devoured meatballs made by a beloved cousin and the barbecued tuna grilled at my brother and sister-in-law. Finally, there was a specialness in the taste of Applebee’s chips and dips simply because we had driven 20 extra miles to cross the state line and spend the night in Vancouver, Washington.

Tantalizing Touch

     God seems to think of everything; how remarkable is our sense of touch? In California, I held Grandma’s sweet, worn-out leathery hands. Her hug embraced me, reassuring me that one time or distance would change the love she had for me. Later in Sacramento and in Portland, we sensed the uncertainty of a few double-decker and draw bridges as we tightly. We had the pleasure of feeling a cool breeze by the coasts, and for this menopausal women, it was even more of a treat! Along with some of windy moments, we felt the warmth of smooth sand on our feet as the three of us sat with my in-laws enjoying some sweet stories with each other. And, there was the feeling of a tear or two that trickled down my face as we left each relative’s residence.

The Sounds of this Season of Life

Many of the adults I have adored over the years now need help with their hearing. The most blessed sounds I heard on the trip were the sweet caregivers at the assisted living home where Grandma Mona and Grandpa Jack lived. “Good morning, Jack, I brought in your medicine,” or the joyful, young lady who greeted us at breakfast, “Mona, what could I get you for breakfast this morning?”

The sound of laughter accompanied the three of us as we rode from city to city was priceless. “Hey, Mom, I think this is your lake up ahead. It’s named Loon Lake!”

     The Sense of Belonging

Rachel and Rachel were troopers, having to hang out with a 50 year old on this trip. I know I am blessed; they made me feel a little more carefree and young again. I believe I did ok, hanging with them, until I accidently called the rapper Tupac, “Toepac”!

Visiting with relatives, who could have allowed life to separate us, rewarded me with some of the most precious gifts of all time.

Over the past ten days, R & R took on a whole new meaning! And I have the selfies to prove it!

-Karla

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Influence: The Show Must Go On -By Donna

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My daughter’s presence has graced the stage multiple times throughout her 24 years. Often a local radio station will interview those involved in a show. Each time Emily was asked the question, “How did you get started doing this kind of thing?” Her answer: “In first grade I went to see the play ‘Annie’, and when I looked at those kids on stage, I thought ‘why am I not doing that?’  I went home and told my mom I wanted to try out for the next play.”

I wish her reply stopped there. She could have easily let that be her answer, but she always continues with the rest of the story which includes me. The fact that she always shares how determined she was has made me realize how my actions could have negatively influenced her.

Determination

Emily has always been the opposite of me. She is loud, daring, outgoing, and loves to be in front of people. At age four, she walked by the TV and saw a child on a talk show. She said, “I will be on TV one day.” Often she came home from school saying that her teacher took her to the office to perform for the principal or another classroom to act for someone. So, I really wasn’t surprised at her request to try-out for a play.

I vividly remember the night of auditions for the upcoming play. Her dad dropped us off in front of Rome Little Theater. Emily was raring to go in. As we walked toward the door, I stopped her. Her little face looked up at me. “Emily, you don’t have to do this. We can go home. It doesn’t matter that we drove all the way to town.”  Searching my face for answers she replied, “I want to do this.”

“Emily, you will have to go on the stage and talk in front of all those people. People you don’t even know. We can just go back home.”  To which she replied, “I’m going in.” And proceeded in the door.

Success

I honestly felt sheer dread as they called her number. My heart was beating out of my chest and I felt like I was the one going on stage. She walked up on stage and they asked her to “slate”.  Emily stood silent, having no idea what that meant. I panicked more. The director said, “That means tell us your name, how old you are, and where you are from.”

Grinning from ear to ear, with a face full of expression, she boomed without a microphone, “I’m Emily Tumlin, I’m seven years old, and I’m from Rome, Georgia!”

I have always joked that she was switched at birth, and at that point I was beginning to believe it. Although she was the youngest there, she got her first part in a show. Since then she has performed in many shows, been an extra on the big screen, and accomplished what she said she would at age four by having a small speaking part on a TV episode.

Influence

The second part of her answer to the DJ is always this, “My mama is really shy and she tried to talk me out of it, but I did it anyway.” That was not a proud parent moment for me. I am a teacher, and I encourage children every day. But that day I was a discourager. I always think about the “what if.” If she had listened to me and my fear, she may have never discovered her passion. When I listened to her last week on The Ridge 95.7 and heard those words again, I cringed at my lack of support that day.

If you have a vision, don’t let others deter you from it with their negatives. If you have a goal or dream I highly recommend the book The Dream Giver by Bruce Wilkinson. God has given everyone a dream. The book encourages a person to pursue their dream even if others may stand in the way. I am sad to say that when I read it, I realized I was one of the characters trying to prevent a person from reaching their dream. Just like in the book, I thought I was doing it for all the right reasons. I believed I was protecting my child from failure, being scared, and the unknown.

Since that day I have been her biggest fan. I have sat through the same show up to six times! If you find yourself on my side of the story, be an encourager. Don’t let what you would or wouldn’t do influence someone who is reaching for a goal. If you are on Emily’s side of the story, be determined.  I am thankful she was.

–Donna

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Fiftieth Birthday: Hawaii Five-O. -By Karla

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The Reason for the Travels 

Our blog, Smorgasbord of Sisterhood, is centered on faith, family, and laughter. For this special 50th birthday, I received a trip that embraced all three. I love lying on a float in the ocean! This trip we may not have been in Hawaii, but my 5-0 birthday brought us to the beach.

Sisters, cousins, and an aunt accompanied me to Florida. I do believe our laughter might have been heard all the way back in Georgia. Some names have been changed to dashes (-) to protect the innocent (or guilty).

Spotted before We Realized

On the way down, Donna and I spotted an aunt who was driving alone. We came up with this great plan, which amused us! Donna was going to put the pedal to the metal, catch up, and strategically pull parallel with her at nearest red light. My job was then to hang out the window waving my arms frantically yelling at her. We did catch up and tailed her, waiting on the opportunity. But being the human jukeboxes we are, when an old favorite came on we got distracted.  While sitting in a turning lane, we were singing and videoing ourselves, as she spotted us, got out of her car, and came back to give us a hug, surprising us!

Games and Laughter

Four out of the six nights we played board games; one of my favorite things to do. Ranging in ages from forty-nine to seventy-six, games can be quite interesting. One game required us to pick from a multiple choice list of different things that best described us while the other players try to guess “who you are”. This is when we learned that one cousin considers herself apathetic. Now, that was like wearing a target for the rest of the trip! Anytime there was a choice to be made someone would shout out, “Well, — doesn’t care!”

Another game was somewhat like Pictionary. One contestant felt so successful when her teammate guessed her drawing to be an action. Sadly, her bubble was quickly burst when we told her the word “action” was just the hint not the word to be guessed!

Fatty Wad Ryder

Later in the week, one player stated, “Well, I’m just sucking hind ***” because she was in last place. This caused someone to almost spit out her water she had just gulped! Turns out, that is a farm saying for what happens often to the little runt. Sometime during the games, we heard of a story from “the good old days” in which a cousin’s best friend’s brother was named Fatty Wad Ryder. I lie you not! I cannot make that one up!  

“Well, it’s true! I don’t even know his real name. His parents and teachers even called him Fatty Wad.” She pronounced. I am still laughing over that one, and might be at my 100th birthday party!

One night between a round of the game, I received some birthday cards. As one cousin handed me my card, she announced, “Here you go. It’s a funny one. I didn’t sign it in case you want to reuse it!”

Only a Few Arguments 

We had such a blast. With almost no arguing, except every time we got in the van! Two of the eight attendees have back problems. They were constantly arguing about who was not going to take the front seat because the other one needed it more. It even came to a few “friendly” shoves!

A feud occurred over who would pay for the pizzas. One cousin had declared she would pay for it, and laid her debit card out. Donna and I volunteered to go pick it up. Walking out the door, I said, “Oh, I forgot –‘s debit card.”

Donna whispered, “It’s my turn to pay for something. Don’t get it.! Go and shh!”  When we were almost out the door, — yelled, you forgot my card.”

Donna tried to push me on out the door, “Pretend you didn’t hear her.”

“I can’t lie.”  I trudged over and got it. Donna thought she had the last laugh and paid the $20 at the counter. Upon leaving the beach, the aunt gave Donna a card (whose birthday happens to also be in July). Inside, yep!  You guessed it. There was a $20 bill.

Our family loves to eat! We enjoyed several meals and lots of ice-cream. There would be no arguments over extra ice-cream because — not only ate her’s every night, but the leftovers of everyone else too! “Don’t throw that away!  I’ll eat it!”

Beach Time

At the beach, the fun continued. The ocean is not on the top ten list of favorites among some of our family. One of these cousins was being oh-so-brave as we coaxed her out further and further. I stated, “You know, I am pretty proud of you being out here.”  Her reply, “Yeah, I’m pretty proud of myself too!” Donna and I were careful not to discuss the helicopters that were flying back and forth over the water and what they might be looking for.

Our family is so awesome. to care for one another. One night, Donna and I were taking the trash to the dumpster. We detoured to swing a while on the kid’s swing set. An aunt met us at the door when we got back. “Y’all been gone for a long time. I was not going to bed until you got back!”

One of the bad “back” ladies was in the ocean. After a while she tired and another cousin treaded back with her to the beach. I looked up from my float to see them holding hands. Taking care of each other is what we do. At meal times, we all held hands saying grace and thanking God for our safety, our families, and birthdays!

-Karla (Who will withhold the names of the innocent because what happened in Panama City Beach stays in Panama City Beach, except the memories!)

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