Toadstools are really fairy houses.
Be outside as much as possible.
Shuffle your feet in the clover so you don't step on a bee.
In the summer, shoes are for going out and for church.
Sleep with the windows open even in winter, fresh air is good for you and you sleep better cold.
Fingers in the sugar bowl are only allowed at Grandma's house.
If you close your eyes you won't notice that it's dark and won't be afraid.
Laugh as much as possible.
Kittens will survive a lot of rough handling.
Love others.
Be patient in affliction.
Look for the good in everything.
Persevere.
Love God.
Trust Him no matter your circumstances.
My Grandparents lived on a very small farm. Learning all the wonders each season held was one of the things I loved about going to visit. There were baby rabbits and kittens in the spring, planting and the smell of the freshly turned soil and the big rain barrel would fill with water in the spring rains. In the summer the wildflowers on the property line would bloom - the red poppies were my favorite.
When the days grew long and steamy Grandpa would clean the pool and Grandma would make a picnic lunch. We'd spend whole afternoons swimming coming out only to rest in the shade of the cherry trees when our cheeks and noses started to burn. Evenings were spent snitting beans, talking and playing games on the patio. Later canning took over the kitchen. Tomatoes, corn, beans - the stock pot would be full to the brim of tomatoes in the morning, they cooked down all day until the pot was about half full. It was the best sauce. The neighbor's cows came over to the fence for apples from Grandpa's orchard. One licked me once. Very slobbery.
Fall was apple cider time, a jumping in huge piles of leaves time. We also butchered the rabbits and chickens. That was tough for me and I usually stayed away. Whatever limbs and trees came down that summer were piled up and burned in, what I thought then, was a huge bonfire. It was beautiful. I loved watching the sparks fly up into the air until they burned out and disappeared.
In the winter Grandpa and I went out and dug winter carrots. Not sure why I thought that was fun but I did. Grandma would put the chain on the tractor and attach saucer sleds with rope to the back. It was so much fun! We cooked hotdogs and marshmallow in the out building behind the pool. The steam from our wet clothes would rise in the air.
It was a magical place for me. I learned to love and respect God's creation there.
My Grandmother died of Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, commonly known as Lou Gehrig's disease. She was 58 years old. She knew something was wrong when she dropped her fork at the dinner table. Her hand just wouldn't work properly. I remember reading to her. She always asked for poetry, the Bible, or bless her, whatever book I was reading at the time.
ALS is an ugly disease. In a nutshell it kills muscles. Think of all the muscles in your body slowly atrophying until you can't walk, hold a hand, smile, talk, swallow, or breathe. These muscles don't die quietly, they die painfully.
Recently an advocacy campaign has appeared called the ALS ice bucket challenge. Earlier this evening I took the challenge. It wasn't about dumping cold water on my head, or being videotaped, or wanting to be seen. It was about raising awareness for a disease that gets very little notice and so very little research funding. Only about 30,000 people in the US have ALS. Hardly a blip, unless it's you, or someone you love. Then it is consuming.
I wish I could better tell you about the amazing woman that my Grandmother was, how she continued to minister to others even while unable to talk or move, how she remained faithful, how she meant the world to a little girl and how I still miss her today.
Instead I will ask you to consider making a donation to the ALS foundation. This campaign will lose steam and donations will dry up again so let's make the most of it while we can.
Thank you.
