Figurative Language: Hope You Are All Ears- by Donna

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“There is a guy stealing IPhones around town. At some point he’s going to face time.” (pun)

Did you laugh? I did. I absolutely love a play on “words”. In fact, I like the many things you can do with words. Now that may sound strange to you and maybe I stick out like a sore thumb (simile), but words can be fun and interesting.

“Is it crazy how saying sentences backwards…. ….creates backwards sentences saying how crazy it is.” 

Being a reading and writing teacher, I love teaching figurative language: metaphors, hyperboles, alliteration, personification and idioms. The origin of many idioms is fascinating. I have googled a kazillion times (hyperbole) where a phrase or idiom comes from. Take these for example:

I’m all ears!

Idiom Origins

Example: Johnny was a thief his whole life, but decided to turn over a new leaf. 

Turn over a new leaf: In the 16th century the pages of a book were called leaves. The saying refers to turning over to a blank page and starting over. This saying came about centuries ago.

Example: The doctor gave Carrie a clean bill of health.

A clean bill of health: In the 1800’s, a ship from another country could not dock until all the passengers on the ship were cleared from the possibility of carrying a disease. After the ship’s captain was handed the paper, a bill of health, stating that there was no sickness on the ship, he was given permission to dock.

Now you have to admit those were interesting, intriguing, and informative idioms (alliteration).  My computer even enjoyed the repetitive stroke of the letter I (personification). I am sorry if this overload of information makes me a walking textbook (metaphor). Snort, giggle, snort. (onomatopoeia) 

Karla and Donna

Read the paragraphs below about Karla and me. I know that sounds like an assignment, but after all I am a teacher.

Karla and I have never had an argument, but we don’t always see eye to eye. If we have different perspectives on something, we talk it out getting to the root of the matter. We never use each other as a scapegoat or put words in the other’s mouth. Usually, we start laughing and simply wash our hands of the matter and move on. 

We love life and like to eat, drink, and be merry. But, neither one of us has a sense of direction; we are like the blind leading the blind. Sometimes we are at our wits end by the time we make it to our destination. To those who know us, that is nothing new under the sun. Sometimes we even have to go the extra mile –honestly, it might be many extra miles. But what is a mere hour lost, it’s just a drop in the bucket of time.

From the Good Book

The bold phrases/words are ones we use often. Where were they derived from?  The BIBLE! Yep, awesome isn’t it. I hope you enjoyed your lesson for today!

Eye to eye: (Isaiah 52:8)

Root of the matter: (Job 19:28)

Scapegoat (Leviticus 16: 9-10)

Put words in one’s mouth (2 Samuel 14:3)

Wash our hands of the matter (Matthew 27:24)

The blind leading the blind (Matthew 15:13-14)

Wits end (Psalms 107:27)

Nothing new under the sun (Ecclesiastes 1:9)

Go the extra mile (Matthew 5:41)

A drop in the bucket (Isaiah 40:15)

For alliteration fun, view this video of Johnny Carson https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jgYbogp1Ha0

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Peace like a River -Karla

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My oldest, adult daughter and I were talking recently about how different our lives are now that we are quarantined. I must be overusing the word crazy to describe everything lately because Lindsey replied to a comment I made with the words, “Mom, I was expecting you to say, ‘Yes, that’s crazy!’”  

I am not sure why I use that word so often; perhaps it is because I stay at such a loss for an adequate word to describe life as we are currently living. This week in addition to the Coronavirus, the storms seemed to swirl over millions sweeping destruction along their paths.

A Different Easter

Easter seemed so different this year, yet it was the same. I was alone all day, yet I wasn’t. Though technology certainly does have its pitfalls, Sunday it served us well. Through Zoom on Sunday, our ladies’ class continued with our Bible study: Rhythms of Renewal: Trading Stress and Anxiety for a Life of Peace and Purpose by Rebekah Lyons. Afterwards, I was able to worship in song online from my church’s prerecorded music. I viewed my pastor’s message from Emmaus Baptist Church, and then I observed the message from the church I attended as a child (First Baptist Church McCaysville / Copperhill).

Finally, my youngest daughter Rachel and I watched Passion City Church online together though we were about 80 miles apart. Later in the afternoon, I was in wonder while watching the production of “Jesus” by the Sight and Sound Theatre. Yes, this Easter was different, but maybe it was what God had in mind for me. A time to repeatedly take in His Good News.

Stormy Weather

As the storms began rolling in that evening, I realized the magnitude of the situation. Perhaps my concern was the storms were predicted to come and go continuously throughout the night. Maybe, my apprehension was caused by being alone. I would have no one to wake me if I was sleeping if the storm became too violent. Possibly, my worries were related to the uncertainty of our current situation with the Coronavirus. I will admit to changing some of my nightly routines a bit Sunday evening as preventive safety measures.

 Monday morning, I woke up having been protected by God and feeling very loved from friends and family who had checked on me during those 24 hours. I pray that those who have lost homes or other possessions can feel His hand on their lives and those who lost loved ones can feel His comfort.

Peace Like a River

A dear friend of mine texted another friend and me to check on us. The three of us exchanged “good here” messages, and then we text-chatted for a while. One of the friends lives on a farm that has a nice-sized creek. They have built a permanent picnic area complete with a playground and gazebo. Over the years, we have enjoyed the area along with their family. The creek is often so low that it does not rise over the rock wall built for a waterfall. However from the storms, it was pouring over producing an incredible sight. After viewing her short video and wrapping up our conversation, I immediately began singing “Peace like a River.”

Peace Like a River

The Bible study by Rebekah Lyons is teaching and reminding us that God is in control of all. In His love for us, He has created rhythms for us to rest and restore. I default back to my apparent overstated word, CRAZY: irrational, wild, bizarre, cracked, idiotic, and out of control. From my view, our world seems to take on these descriptors more than ever. Yet the pattern of the seasons continue, and the sun rises and sets. The sound of the flowing stream produces peace like a river and overwhelms my soul with His love and comfort that He — and only He —- is in control. No matter what craziness is going on around me, if I choose to pause with Him, peace like a river will reassure my mind and my soul.

Love, Joy and Peace

Without adequate rest to find peace within, I will lack the ability to show a God-sized love for others. As I rest in His peace, He will produce love like an ocean, which can flow from me into the hearts and minds of those in need. In the song, the third verse explodes with joy like a fountain. Joy is contagious! The fountain of joy can spew onto others as we share the true meaning of peace, love, and joy.

For as is stated in the book of Ecclesiastes, there is a time and season for everything. Perhaps, God, in his almighty and sovereign power, is demanding a time of rest for His children as we restore from reading His Word. Let us be refreshed and take His peace, love, and joy into the CRAZY and dying world.

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Covid: Life, Interrupted- by Donna

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With very little warning, life has been interrupted. Over the last few weeks, the usual is no more. What was my norm? My norm was teaching school all day, seeing my daddy every weekend,  going to church, having a daughter attend college, meeting Karla every Thursday at Cracker Barrel, having all needed essentials, and not being afraid to be in a crowd. 

Class Dismissed

I never imagined that when I told my second grade students goodbye March 11th, my year would be over. My heart is broken. Now, I am still working, but if you are not a teacher, you may not understand. I saw a comment on Facebook that questioned why teachers were sad saying it was no different than when they are out for summer. But it absolutely is different! When the last “real” day of school arrives, you can say “mission accomplished”. You have loved, taught, encouraged, protected, and have poured your heart, body, and soul into that group of children. But when school abruptly ended this year, my journey with these students did as well. My heart is not ready to “give them to the third-grade teacher.”  

No Entry

Since January, each weekend, I have driven to Blairsville, Georgia. My daddy is currently residing in a nursing home. I never dreamed that my March 7th would be my last chance to see him for a long time. What disturbs me most is he is suffering from Alzheimer’s. So, my heart breaks knowing that when I can return, he may not know who I am.

The Lord’s Supper

Church is also very different now. Rather than getting dressed, driving across town, and sitting in a pew, I am in a recliner with the computer and dog in my lap watching online. Palm Sunday I was watching my childhood pastor. It was communion Sunday, and the pastor, knowing we didn’t have unleavened bread lying around, suggested getting something else to use. So, I partook of the Lord’s supper with orange juice and a single corn pop out of the Kellogg’s cereal box!  Yes, it was different but the symbolism was the same. His blood and body sacrifice for my sins.

So Many Changes

My daughter and her dog have moved in temporarily with her two brothers and me, rather than stay alone at her place during the Corona virus quarantine. She is currently in her junior year as a theatre major. So, days are interesting. While I am on Google Classroom, she is moving furniture, taking pictures off the walls and removing plants to create a make-shift studio, complete with camera and light to film her acting classwork. When she is “Zooming” for her virtual classes, in order to keep the den quiet for her, I have banished myself to the bedroom to do my work while herding both of our dogs.

Karla and I have met for dinner every Thursday night at Cracker Barrel for over a year. I never envisioned a time when restaurants would only be serving drive thru or curbside. I long for my usual turnip greens and cornbread muffins. It’s been way too long. Karla and I make “Bertha and Geneva” videos when we meet. (It’s two Southern ladies on Facebook.) For fear of not being able to video as much, we broke quarantine, and met in the Kroger parking lot recently. We took several changes of clothes and filmed three just to stock up. 

Even the simple things in life have been interrupted. Toilet paper is hard to find. Many shelves sit empty in the stores, and tape marks the floor, so you stay six feet back. People are shopping wearing gloves and masks. Many have lost jobs and have no income. People are sick and some are not recovering. Life is different now.

This entire scenario is a reminder that life can change at any moment. Confusion, skepticism, and fear are lurking, but one thing remains constant, our God.

And if you think this Corona virus has created chaos, I hope you are prepared for the rapture!

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Childhood Memories: Slipping Away -by Karla

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Some of the Greats

Growing Up with Harriet

Within ten days Lyle Waggner, Kenny Rogers, and Fred Neal, better known as Curly from the beloved Harlem Globetrotters, all three died. Though they are not the most important people to the world as a whole, they are a piece of my childhood. It seems more and more famous people, who were a big part of my growing up, have passed in the last few years. 

One might think I am a little cheesy, but I am one of “those people” who enjoy TV series reunions. When Katherine MacGregor, Harriet Oleson on Little House on the Prairie, died in 2018, I googled her and found myself thinking, What I missed that reunion! I didn’t even know they made one! Oh how I love asking Siri to show me current pictures of celebrities from my childhood. Of course, then I am hooked and have to read entire articles about their lives. It is not uncommon for me to send Donna and my sisters a current picture of someone we watched as a child to create a “guess who this is” game.  

Disliking Unfamiliar Faces

This is not new for me. Not at all. If I could find my senior yearbook and looked up my adbors, I would find, “doesn’t like an unfamiliar face”, and not being able to recall from where I knew them. Mostly, that applied to celebrities that I could not remember what show or movie they played in. My sister Gail still teases me about the lady that we refer to as “Janice’s mother”, a character from Days of our Lives back in the 1970’s. In fact, the other day, I was watching some old TV show, and I thought, There’s Janice’s mother! I walked over and took a picture. I sent it to Gail, and she replied, “Wow, I think you are right!” Well, I just had to know or sure. So, I started googling, and yep, after about 30 minutes of research, I realized it was really her. Honestly, how can I remember what a character from the 1970’s looks like when I can’t find my car keys or cell phone on a regular basis! 

As I began reminiscing about Lyle Wagner, Kenny Rogers, and Curly, who are attached to wonderful childhood memories, I began thinking of others that have died in the last few years. And so, I invite you into my memories…

Lyle Waggoner

Now, really I was too young to watch him in one of my all time favorite shows, Carol Burnette, but I have so enjoyed the reruns of his scenes on the show. Then there was Wonder Woman! I so loved Lynda Carter and him. I must have done a million twirls in my childhood trying to get a hold of my golden truth lasso and my headband boomerang! 

Kenny Rogers

My memories that relate to him are about as long as his list of hits! I will contain myself to the early 70’s as not to share them all–expect the memory of 1982. 

Lucille

I must have sung that song thousands of times in the back of Granddaddy’s blue ‘74 truck. My cousins and sisters would ride in the bed of the truck singing to the top of our lungs while we took turns sitting on the tire-bump-seat. This drive always took us to the Lakewood Grocery to pick up a few necessities but also included a treat from Grandaddy. He gave allowed u to pick out our favorite ice cream or candy bar. I selected a Mayfield’s chocolate ice cream cup complete with a wooden spoon or a 100 Grand candy bar.

   The Gambler

Again, the memory pulls me back to Nana and Granddaddy’s with seven adults and eight grandkids sitting around my Uncle Max, who had his guitar in hand and harmonica in mouth. Two cousins would sing The Gambler among so many other songs. We sang and laughed and listened to story after story of the olden days while people took turns churning the homemade peach ice cream. 

 Islands in the Stream

    : My sister Gail and I worked at the Burger Hof, a small fast-food restaurant in Blue Ridge, Georgia. Man, we had such fun times that summer. We were 18 and 15. There was a jukebox, and people were always putting in quarters to play their favorites. Once a man–like a full-grown thirty-something kind of man–put in his change and played Islands in the Stream. Then he walked up to Gail and told her that he was playing it for them! I think we both almost died! He was a regular, and he regularly played the song “for them” when he was in there. Oh, the laughs we have had over that memory! 

Curly

I watched Curly, Medowlark Lemon, and the other Harlem Globetrotters out jump, steal, and out smart their opponents for years. I wanted to spin my basketball on my index finger and make trick shots just like they did. If they were on TV, my sisters and I were in the living room watching them sail their way down the court or dump a bucket of red, white, and blue confetti on someone in the audience. They totally entertained and amazed me! 

Tim Conway

Mom took us to see The Apple Dumpling Gang when I was about nine. Tim Conway, Harry Morgan (MASH), Bill Bixby (The Incredible Hulk) starred in the movie. I think maybe that’s where my love for simple TV westerns came. The High Chaparral, The Rifleman, or The Big Valley were always playing at my house on Saturday afternoons.. Mom and I had so many laughs watching Tim Conway as Mr. Tudball or “the old man”. I would be laughing at Tim Conway while Mom was laughing at me rolling at his antics. 

Penny Marshall

Tuesday’s nights were Happy Days and Laverne and Shirley. “Aaaaaa!” Need I say more?

Roy Clark

HEEEE-HAWWW! Saturday nights at Nana and Granddaddy’s  were the only “acceptable” times that my little sister Julie and I could spit on each other! “You met another and pfft you were gone!”

Charlotte Rae

One evening when Julie and I were spending the night with Nana and Granddaddy, we asked if we could watch the Facts of Life. I thought my sweet Nana was going to have a coronary with just the mention of the title. Nope, we missed that episode. 

Gloria Vanderbilt

Oh! How I wanted a pair of her jeans. I lived for a little swan to be sewn on my pocket. In the early 2000’s when I was wearing a pair of pants that I purchased a couple of months before, I was talking with a co-worker. As we discussed the designer clothes we wanted as a kid, I noticed the swan on my pocket. It was then that I knew I had finally arrived! 

Though there are many more, I will end with . . .


Glenn Campbell

I believe every time I rode in our station wagon with the side panels made of wood, Rhinestone Cowboy was playing. “The way back” was not carpeted in ours and no seat belts were worn, so on purpose Julie and I would sling ourselves as hard and fast as we could from one side to the other singing “Riding out on a horse in the star-spangled rodeo” to the top of our lungs, until we heard the words, “Girls, settle down.”

Yep, “the oldies but goodies” keep slipping away one by one. But my precious childhood memories…they are as alive as ever! 

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Forgiveness: Giggles and Grudges -By Karla

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Recently my daughter Lindsey’s best friend got married. Oh, the adventures these two girls have had over the years. I will never let them the time they their giggles caused them to not pay attention. Hence, while carrying tiki torches to the pond, they caught the woods on fire! They have been the best of friends since four and five. Never have a heard them hold a grudge.

Traveling Buddies

Lindsey and Mary Faith have traveled so many places. One threw up over the mountainous road, heading toward GA camp (Girls in Action). Soon after, they tread into baptismal waters on the same day, sealing their friendship on a deeper level as they are now Christian sisters. Mary Faith’s grandparents were probably never the same after traveling with these two girls and hearing their giggles for days to North Carolina for vacation. There have been trips to Florida together with the moms and siblings as well. Countless laughs over the years!

Today or Yesteryear?

Along with another friend, I hosted a bridal shower for Mary Faith. We played a “how well do you know the bride” game. It asked questions like where and when did the bride and groom meet. Other questions focused on the bride: when is her birthday and what is her favorite color? As I continued to answer the questions, memories cascaded into my mind. She is just like a daughter to me. 

As they stood before the group, one minute I viewed them as graceful grown ladies and the next as the two insecure, sill teenagers from yesteryear. We began sharing our answers, and I realized I was getting many incorrect.

How are my answers incorrect? I know her so well.

What Is Your Favorite . . .

“What is Mary Faith’s favorite sport?” Lindsey polled. I was torn between basketball and volleyball. They played both of these together for years at school. Volleyball! That’s the right choice. When Mary Faith revealed, “hockey”, I shook my head in disbelief.

“Favorite movie?” I responded Twitches! This movie scared the girls so badly when they were preteens that they cried. I knew Ella Enchanted was probably the bulls-eye answer, so I went with that. But again, I was wrong. What in the world is wrong with her? Her answers are not matching mine–which I knew were correct!  The memory of the Twitches was too good not to share. The girls doubled over in laughter at the recollection as did the attendees. 

At the end of the game, I asked if I could share Mary Faith’s favorite song because, obviously, she did not know it. “Hoedown Throwdown!” by Miley Cyrus,” I shouted. More giggles. Before the event had concluded, they did a short rendition of the childhood dance. 

Frozen Giggles

Driving home loaded with leftovers and decorations, I realized that I had frozen time. I had Mary Faith stuck in my head as a girl—different ages spanning in time for many years, but still my memories where frozen in time. As wrong as my answers had been, I knew they had been right at some point in time. I never entertained the possibility that she was not that person anymore. At that moment, my brain had another jolt. I wonder how many times I do that with people. 

The situation of freezing memories of them in their younger years caused me to evaluate another thing that I have been guilty of freezing in time.

Frozen Grudges

We often hold onto grudges from the past towards people who have mistreated us–not even remotely considering that person might have changed over the years.

We all have people who have done us wrong. There was the girl in junior high that dared the boy to “go with me” as a joke, the co-worker who “said this”, or the relative who “did that”. In our minds, we so often hold onto that memory and freeze it in time. We clinch it into our fist and hold it so tightly that we cannot breathe around it. Possibly, with each time we think or retell the incident, the anger gets stronger.

I very much recognize that there are people who we truly must guard our hearts from because they have hurt us, and if we let them, they will continue to hurt us. But, these people are few and far between, and even with these people, God asks us to not hold onto that anger.

“and when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.” 

Mark 11:25

Freeze framing injustice limits our spiritual growth. When we keep grievances alive in our memory and heart, we sin against God. How thankful are we that God has removed the sins we have commented against Him as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12). Animosity towards others is not biblical. Matthew shares how Peter asked Jesus how many times we are to forgive. Jesus answered him, “I say not unto thee, until seven times: but, until seventy times seven.”

Just like Mary Faith is no longer that giggly girl that she was years ago, those people who have wronged us, may have changed over time as well. Yet, we often still freeze the moment they hurt us and the accompanying feelings. Give them the benefit of the doubt. Let the past stay in the past, letting go of that grudges. As Ana from Frozen would say, “Let it go; let it go.” 

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Materialism: Treasures on Earth-by Donna

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Growing up I adored cats. My room was full of cat statues and posters. At one point I even had a cat bedspread with matching curtains, lamp and alarm clock.


From 1990-2017, I lived on 40 acres. We had several cats, but they were mostly outdoors. When I moved into my current home, I quickly discovered a stray cat. Well, actually it discovered me. It gladly accepted the food I placed outside, but would never let me get close. After about six months, I heard a faint meowing under my porch. I discovered she had given birth to a little white kitten. It was the most beautiful kitty I had ever seen. It was white and brown with blue eyes, and it had a bobbed tail. My daughter called it the Gerber cat, because it was so precious. Of course like its mom, it would come eat but never let me get close.

Determination


But I was determined to win her over. I sat outside while it ate, carefully watching me out of the corner of its eye. I was trying to build trust. One day, I just decided to take my chances and grab it. To my surprise, it only took a few times, and it became tame. It loved attention. Every time I walked the dog, if I didn’t pick it up and carry it around, it would climb up my leg. I began to let it come inside, and it quickly made itself at home.

The Gerber Cat

One day while it lay upside down on arm, I looked down at it and thought, I forgot how much I love having a cat. I thanked God for giving me such a sweet blessing.

Nine months later, she vanished. I was afraid someone had gotten her because she was so beautiful. But after three days, I went a different way to work, hoping to see her in someone’s yard. Instead I saw her lifeless body in a ditch. I was so sad. I had enjoyed her so much. It was like so many things in life…here today, gone tomorrow.

Letting Go

After living on the same land for twenty-seven years and having built our dream house, I had to leave my home. Due to downsizing I had to let a lot of things go along with the house. I had my kids’ varying heights marked on the door frame as they grew. Walking away was difficult.

Within two years, I found myself helping empty out my childhood home to be sold. So many memories; so many things. At the estate sale, I had to watch a young man carry out the gun cabinet my mama bought my daddy for their first Christmas together. It was like watching people buy your memories. I had to remind myself, they are only objects. No one can take memories.

Just like with the Gerber cat, we can adore and get so much joy from something only to have it leave our grasp forever. We have to deal with the loss of these prized possessions and be thankful for the time we had with them. But it’s important to move forward knowing God has future treasures in store for you.

Matthew 6: 19-21
Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

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Childhood Memories: Fuselage -By Karla

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The WASPS Museum

When Donna asked if she could have her picture taken on the wing of the aircraft like her grandmother, the director of the WASP museum enthusiastically obliged. “Stay on the fuselage,” I heard her say.

What an incredible memory we made at the WASP Museum learning about Donna’s grandmother Marion and about the WASPS. Donna’s blog WASPS

To my knowledge, I had never heard that word before, but I immediately knew what the word must have meant. In my childhood, I heard the phrase, “don’t get off the black strip” every time I climbed up on the wing of daddy’s plane.

Transported back to my Childhood Memories

That one word uncovered such treasured moments. Being only eleven when Daddy died, I don’t have many memories of him. Of the remembrances I do have, his plane and the airport are present. Daddy had acquired his pilot license during his short stay in the US Air Force, while Mom earned hers as a means of taking care of her girls “in case there was ever an emergency while in the air”.

Many of my Sunday afternoons were spent at the airport. Sometimes, we would go up and “fly a pattern”, but other times we simply hung out at the hanger. The adults sat in the lounge sharing stories of the week while my three sisters, two of our best friends (Sarah and Martha), and I would play house, tag, or hide-and-seek around the planes parked outside. With the airport nestled in Copperhill, Tennessee, we often ventured out into the copper-colored gullies, just beyond the tarmac, where each of us claimed a ravine as a pretend home. 

Personal Search Party

One afternoon my older sisters went beyond the gullies because they apparently heard some kids having a birthday party and wanted to check it out. Since Mom’s voice was a little too far out of reach, she sent Daddy in the air for a private search party using the bird’s eye view. He did, they were recovered, and knowing Mom—they probably received a spanking for venturing too far.

Eating What?

Another day while playing hide and seek, I got hungry. I walked inside to grab the Pepperidge Farms snacks Mom ALWAYS brought. As I closed the heavy metal door coming back out, Martha was spotted beside the tire of her daddy’s plane. Everyone came running to base, and my oldest sister Lynn asked what I was eating. Looking at her like she was crazy, I said, “The snacks Mom brought.” 

In the way a big sister corrects, she replied, “Mom did not bring any today.” 

Proving her wrong, I marched over to the door and pointed to the square card table where Mom always set up snacks.. 

Lynn panicked! “That’s not Mom’s snacks; she didn’t bring any. That’s Shultz’s dog food!” (One of the adults had his dog with him.) 

The six of us stood there silently, wondering how much I had just eaten and how sick I would be. Lynn nudged me inside the door as the five of them glued themselves to the window, anticipating my outcome. Slowly, I walked over to Mom, waiting for her to finish talking. I shared the story and waited to see if I would be going to the hospital. I remembered they all laughed. Mom swooped me up and sat me down on the couch with Mrs. Sandy, Sarah and Martha’s mom, assuring me, I would live. 

Flying to Vacations

Being a pharmacist at Talent Drugs provided long hours with few days. However, every summer we flew to Myrtle Beach for a Wednesday through Sunday vacation.

In 1976, while riding in the brown and tan station wagon one evening, Dad proposed a spontaneous trip to Disney World in Florida. Sure enough, the next day much to our delight, by eleven Mom was picking us up at school, and we were walking up the plane wing—staying off the fuselage of course—and buckling up.  

Flying with His Best Friend

Sarah and Martha’s dad and Daddy were the best of friends. He and Daddy often flew together. Mr. Buddy was the local mortician at Finch’s Funeral Home. Mr. Buddy’s personality was definitely not the grim, stone-faced men that are often portrayed at funeral homes in movies. He was one of the joyous men I ever met. He and Daddy had many adventures of their own. Perhaps my favorite stories was their flight to retrieve a body that needed preparation for a funeral.  

On short flights when they had a body, Buddy would sit in the back seat, and they would lie the body in a stretcher that extended from the back seat to the folded front seat. However, this particular trip was a longer flight, and they decided having Buddy co-pilot was a good idea. Their next good idea was to strap the body in an upright position and buckle her in the back seat! 

When nature called and the plane needed a fill up, they landed. Daddy asked the attendant to fill-her-up, and they walked inside. Returning with their usual little glass Coke bottle and a pack of peanut butter crackers, the attendant had an alarming expression. 

“Uh, the lady in the back seat—she hasn’t moved since you’ve been gone! Not a muscle!” 

Buddy paid for the gas and added, “Well, if she had, then there would be some real trouble!” 

Daddy just shook his head. They latched the doors and took off. 

Tribute to a Friend

If I had a dime for every time Mr. Buddy flew his airplane over our house after Daddy passed, I would be a millionaire. I can still hear Mom’s call, “Girls, I hear Buddy.” All five of us, Mom, my three sisters, and me would run out of the house, throw our heads in the air, and begin waving. I think Buddy’s flights helped us know Daddy was a part of him and a part of us too.

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WASPS: Priceless -by Donna

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When I was in junior high and high school I wanted to be a social worker. People who knew me well, quickly pointed out that I was “too tenderhearted” for that particular job. I know they were correct. When I was nearing graduation, my mama suggested I look into being a flight attendant, to which I laughed. At the time I had never flown and had no desire. Dangling in mid-air is scary to me. 

Women Airforce Service Pilot

My grandmother, on the other hand, was a WASP, Women Airforce Service Pilot, during WW2. (See former blog, Almost Forgotten). Growing up, I heard about her, and I even have some of her things: her silver wings, flight school yearbook, photo album, WASP diploma and a few other items. However I never knew her because she died in a plane crash in 1945 when Mama was only five. I decided to learn more about her if possible and what she did as a WASP. 

So in June, Karla and I flew to Sweetwater, Texas where the WASP Museum is located. When we walked in the hanger/museum, I was brought to tears. I was not expecting that reaction. Those who know me are aware that I am not a very emotional person. But something about standing where she would have stood and looking at the same kind of plane she flew was overwhelming. I looked up to my left and on the wall were plaques from each state with the names of the WASPs who resided there. Above my head was North Carolina, and I quickly spotted Marion G. Mann, my grandmother. 

The WASP were brave women. Carol, the museum’s vice president, commented that she often wondered if it was genetic. I laughed and said, “Maybe. My mother was very feisty and come to think of it, so is my daughter. It just skipped me.”

Zoot Suit

Zoot Suit

Karla and I spent two days at the museum. The staff who worked there were informative and made me feel so special for being the granddaughter of a WASP. The facts I learned were incredible. My favorite picture of my grandmother is one of her on the wing of a plane. I got the courage to ask if I could recreate the picture. To my surprise they said yes. They even went and got a zoot suit for me to wear, complete with head gear and saddle oxfords. (To begin with, the women pilots had no uniforms. So they were given men’s coveralls to wear. They were so big, they had to roll up the sleeves and the arms. They were referred to as zoot suits).

Class 47-W-7

Before Karla and I left, I was looking at a picture of two WASPs in their late 90s, who had been to a recent homecoming. When I saw the class 47-W-7 under one of the names I screeched! “Look! This lady is still living and she was in the same class as Marion!” I went to Carol, and asked if I could possibly get her address. Not only did she give it to me, but a phone number too. It took me a while to get the nerve, but about a week later, I called Nell. I explained that I got her number from the museum and my grandmother was a WASP in her class. When I said “Marion”, she replied, “I knew Marion well.” Tears welled in my eyes. Besides one family member, she was the first person I had ever talked to that told me about my grandmother. We talked for thirty minutes. “Marion was a great gal. And an awesome pilot. I flew with her once.” 

Happy Birthday

Before hanging up, I learned that Nell’s birthday was in two days, and she would be turning 98. I wished her a Happy Birthday. It might have been her birthday, but I was the one who received a gift that was priceless. 

**If ever in SweetWater, Texas, visit the WASP Museum https://www.waspmuseum.org/

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Doers of the Word: What Did He Say? -Donna

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In the South we tend to have lazy tongues. We omit our ending sounds: going becomes goin’ and  kept becomes kep’. Recently while in Texas, Karla and I decided to stop at a local restaurant. When we walked in, It had a small down-home feeling. Besides us, there were only about eight other patrons in the place. We quickly noticed the man who was making rounds from table to table. Clearly, everyone knew him. He reminded us of Uncle Jesse from the TV show The Dukes of Hazzard (‘79-’85). He wore faded blue overalls and a button up shirt. Snow white hair graced his head and face. 

After table-hopping to visit the other locals, he approached our table with a huge smile that could only be detected because his beard widened. “Hey ladies. I’ve spoke to ever’body else, so I had to come tell y’all hello too. That way you can say the crazy pastor talked to you too.” We smiled, laughed, and said hello. But as soon as he walked away, we looked at each other with unsure, large eyes. “Did he say pastor or bastard?” I questioned in a whisper voice, half laughing and half alarmed. Immediately, Karla replied, “I was gonna ask you the same thing! I think he said pastor. I mean ever’one in here knows him, and he’s so nice and friendly.”  I said, “True, but it sure sounded more like bastard, just with the d dropped.”

Confusion

Now if you were a teen in the late 80’s or early 90’s, you probably watched Saturday Night Live at some point. This situation reminded me of the “Pat” character. Pat was an individual in skits, and it was never clear if Pat was a male or female. After our brief remembrance of Pat, we felt we were in a similar boat. 

In five minutes or so another local came in the door. They immediately recognized each other. The man walked over to “Uncle Jesse” and said, “Hey man, how are ya?”  Jesse replied, “I have my wife and my Bible; I am great! ” Karla and I smiled, shook our heads up and down, whispering, “He said pastor.” 

As we ate our salads, we heard him loudly talking. He remarked about all the “s–t” that has been going on lately. We made eye contact and silently mouthed, “he said bastard.” While we waited for our steak and chicken to arrive, we were pretty sure he was bowing his head, saying the blessing. Maybe we were wrong, maybe we didn’t hear the s word earlier.  He probably said pastor.  

Ketchup on a Steak

Being that we were in Texas, I ordered a nice, big steak. I asked the waitress for ketchup. She brought it back and placed it on the table. As I squirted it onto my plate, Uncle Jesse yelled across the room. “You best not be puttin’ ketchup on a steak!” I looked up and Uncle Jesse was glaring at me! Now I do eat ketchup on a steak, but I sure wasn’t going to tell him that. But instead of lying, I smiled and held up a fry, leading him to believe the ketchup was for them. Karla became tickled as she pointed out that before dipping my steak each time, I made sure he wasn’t looking. I felt as if I was doing something I would have gotten in trouble for when I was a kid. 

After his wife was paying for their meal, he came over and apologized for the ketchup comment. He said he was just kidding and talked so sweetly about his wife and his local friends. Karla and I nodded at each other and smiled, signaling “pastor”, but the conversation took a quick turn. He began talking about when he was a kid. Every sentence contained a curse word. We raised our eyebrows signaling “bastard”. When He bid us farewell, he took his wife by the hand and left. 

Deceiving Ourselves

The irony of the situation was the wall Karla’s seat faced was covered with crosses. So many sizes and shapes. There must have been 50, but the wall I faced was decorated with shot glasses. 

When we got in the car, Karla remarked that so many Christians are like that. One minute we are a shining light for Christ and the next we are doing something that makes people wonder if we are a Christian at all. Surely, our sinful nature confuses the unsaved leaving them to wonder how our lives as Christian are any different than theirs. 

I’m not saying that if we say a curse word, tell a lie, or take a little something from our workplace that we are not Christian. Most believers have done one or even all of these, but it may cause a non-Christian to take a double take. 

Though Christians are human and still sin daily, we should be striving to be different! In James 1:22, the Bible says, “But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.”  

Uncle Jessie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TaWtUFmtNE

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God’s Hands: Only Human–by Donna

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A few months ago I was eating lunch at my daddy’s house. I glanced over at his hands. What is wrong with his hands! Are they swollen? Those are not my daddy’s hands. As I ate, I worried that something was physically wrong with him.  Last July he was diagnosed with Alzheimers. But physically he was in good shape to be almost 79.

Then suddenly it hit me. Those hands are not the hands of the daddy I have known all my life.They were smooth and clean. My daddy has always been a worker. He was a mechanic at the Ford Motor Plant for 48 years. In his spare time, he had a huge garden and restored antique cars and trucks. A Jack-of-all-trades sums him up. If we needed anything, he usually did it himself. Whether it was new shingles on the roof, a burst water pipe, or a new set of brakes; he could do it. He also used his hands to serve others. In fact at 76, he was still climbing roofs and cleaning out gutters of several widowed woman at church. His hands even drove a widow to a colonoscopy appointment. He said, “I really didn’t want to, but I couldn’t tell her no; she didn’t have anybody else to take her.”

For years my daddy had black under his nails. His fingers and hands were cracked and calloused. It wasn’t that he was unclean; he scrubbed with LAVA soap before eating. But the years of physical labor couldn’t always be washed away. 

He is now unable to do all the things he could before. Sometimes the hands that held a wrench, drove a tractor, or rebuilt an entire car, can not fasten a simple button. I am sadly aware that someday his hands will cease to gasp at all. And at some point, he may not even remember I’m his Donnie-Boo.

Change

Over the last three years I have experienced a lot of change. During this time, while reading the Bible, the two words Lord (God) and hands appeared many times together. I recently Googled it and discovered they appear over 100 times.

Our heavenly Father will never let go, will never forget our name and will always be there. I am thankful for my earthly daddy’s hands I have had for all these years. His hands held the Children’s Bible from which he read a story each Saturday night. They removed his cap and placed it on his knee when he sat at the table to eat. His hands faithfully held my mama for over 44 years.

But, my daddy’s hands have changed because as good as they are, he is only human. There is no greater comfort than Our Lord’s hands.

Psalm 73:23 “Nevertheless I am continually with you; you have taken hold of my right hand.”

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