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"Amaryllis" photo by Barb Burdett S LAVIDA ARNOLD NELLIE/WM>ALTA RUTH BURDETT>GERRY>LAVIDA
After three years, Duane and I have decided to make it official. We are getting married next week, (not sure which day, there is so much to do) while my daddy is here visiting. When I get over the shock I will fill in some more details. Til then! Blessings of peace, love, joy, and happiness to all. Lavida 05/25/2005 Hello, Family Here
is a copy of a letter that I sent to my brother, Billy Arnold.
I wanted to relate this story, (an actual event) but didn't want
to retype the thing. So, here is the thing with my dogs. Hey
Bro!!! How goes it? Sorry that I had to get off the phone yesterday.
I had my friend Nolda sitting in my living room. Normally, I would
have just let her sit there, but she was a little out of sorts,
so I was trying to be sensitive to her. (I know it sounds corny
but her dog died that had been her companion for over 13 years.) Blissful Days of Nothingness A few short days ago, I realized that nothing much was happening with my email inbox. Actually, for that matter, nothing was in my sent file, either. Had I been neglecting everyone? Or had cosmic forces banned together and started ignoring me? Since the later is very unlikely, I decided to sit down and tap out a couple of emails. When I did, much to my astonishment, I had nothing much to say. I started thinking about it. What have I been doing with myself? Managing a household, overseeing homework, doctoring booboos. No, nothing much had been going on! Now before you get the idea that I was feeling sorry for myself, let me fill you in on a little reflection. Aren't these the days that we strive for during all of our hectic lives? The simple days where there is no crisis, no uh-ohs, no major catastrophe, just peaceful, blissful, nothing. Oh, the blissful days of nothingness that we long for, but when they arrive we don't always appreciate. Let us all take a moment when we are blessed with these lulls in our lives and thank our creator for the breather, and then drink it in and enjoy ever last morsel of it. Because all too soon, the pace will pick up again, and once again we will long for the blissful days of nothingness. 2-25-2004 I'M BA-A-A-CK!!! Good
morning friends, family, in-laws, out-laws, ex-laws, and running
from the laws! Between massive computer problems and then the
whole thing just going belly up, I have been asked questions like,
"Where are you?" and, "Have you written anything
yet?" TO
THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE.
One day Olivia moved away from the Great Woods. Of course all the other bunnies were just horrified. How was Olivia to know what to do without their care and guidance? And for a while, they were right. It was always "What is wrong with Olivia?" and "Why did Olivia move so far away?" and so on. But the one that was uttered the most was "What are we going to do about Olivia?" At the same time Olivia was having some real growing pains of her own. She had to learn all on her own how to take care of herself. And sometimes she almost got caught by wild animals and eaten. There were times she thought to herself that it would be easier to just go knock on the wolves' door and offer herself as dinner. But she didn't. She kept going on, learning more, and soon she could take care of herself. She even became confident in herself and the decisions that she made. One day Olivia decided to go back and visit the Great Woods. When she did, it was like she had never been gone. Not only was the big old oak tree still just as big and regal as ever, but the adult bunnies still wanted to treat her the same way. Only this time Olivia was offended. They tried to make her feel guilty for moving away and said that if she had stayed put they could have protected her from all of life's little nasties. But those little nasties are what made Olivia stronger and more confident. Sure it would have been nice to not have to go through them. But since she had always been so sheltered, it was the only way she was ever going to be able to grow up. Finally, one of the big old bunnies took Olivia aside and started trying to get her to stay in the Great Woods and conform to what they thought she should be doing. But this time, instead of being ashamed for "not behaving", Olivia just got angry. "I am a grown bunny," she said. "I know that I have made some horrible decisions in my life. But they had to be made in order for me to grow up. If I had stayed in the Great Woods, all of you would have kept making all of my decisions for me, and I would never have learned how to take care of myself. I am sure that I will still make mistakes from time to time, but they are MY mistakes. And I will learn MY lessons from them. That is something that none of you can do for me." With this, the big old bunny snubbed her nose and hopped away, never to speak to Olivia again. She was sad because she had always valued the guidance and advice from the big old bunny, but she also valued her independence and had learned to have confidence in her own decisions, and she had vowed she would never again let someone else live her life for her. The big old bunny may not agree with her, but after all, she was the one who was going to have to live with her mistakes, not the big old bunny. The Fragile Child As
the fragile child shivered, they lay a blanket upon her. Still
her teeth chattered. Again, they lay more blankets upon her. And
still she nearly convulsed with the cold. The fragile child clutched
the blankets to her. She would never let them go. Those that saw
her piled more blankets upon her, for if she had that deep of
a pile, she must surely be frozen through. The days turned into
weeks, into months, and soon the sun shone with all of its force.
But still, the fragile child clung to the blankets, for she had
never been without them. If let go of the blankets that she clutched
in her tiny fingers, she would surely die of the cold. The sweat
rolled down her forehead into her eyes. It was unfair that her
eyes should sting so. But still she would not relent. She held
onto those blankets like a badge of honor. People would often
say how strong she must be to endure all of those blankets. Still
others would say how weak and fragile she must be to need all
of those blankets. Finally one day the heat became too much, and
the fragile child lost consciousness. Her fingers and her hands
lay limp by her side. The blankets fell away. Soon her body began
to cool. She felt free, for the first time in her life. She did
not have the burden of all of those blankets. She finally realized
that if she had just put those blankets aside years ago, she would
have avoided so much suffering. No one else but the child felt
the weight of the blankets. The weight did not burden those that
laid the blankets on her in the first place, just the child. She
soon realized that all of the ones that she had looked up to,
with their massive piles of blankets, would be unburdened if she
could just convince them to lay their blankets down. But they
were stubborn. "This blanket got me through the hard freeze
50 years ago!" they would say. "If you knew what I had
been through, you would cling to these blankets as well."
The fragile child tried her best to convince them that by laying
aside their blankets, they would not suffer, but would rather
be free. But they refused. And one by one, as the sun shone down
from the sky, they were overcome by the heat, and they died. Only
the fragile child remained. She always had a blanket if she needed
one, but when she was through, she would always fold it and put
it aside, lest she became so attached to her suffering that it
became her undoing. A REUNION OF OUR OWN All this talk about the reunion when all of a sudden, a couple of my brothers and I had a reunion all our own. I had emailed Dad (Wm. E. Arnold, Jr.) to try and get in touch with my brother, Billy. Aunt V. wanted current addresses and such for the family directory and also for the newsletter. So, Dad gave my brother, Billy III, my phone number. He called, and we got to talking, exchanged e-mail addresses, and I added him to my messenger. Last night he called again and said his messenger was on, so I got online, and we proceeded to have a most enjoyable chat. Next thing ya know, another brother of mine, Wyndal, showed up on my brother, Billy III messenger, so Billy invited him into the conversation. By this time, we had also discovered how to use the voice option. So the three of us chatted for just a few when we realized that all three of us had not spoken together at the same time since, we believe, high school. I usually talk to Billy at least once a year if not more, but Wyndal I hadn't had the pleasure since about three and a half or four years ago. (Of course it has been about 14 yrs since I SAW Wyndal last.) It's one of those things that happens when life gets so busy for us, we move all over the country, and next thing ya know, you're sitting there online sharing pictures of your grandkids. Anyway, we had a most enjoyable little reunion online, but then, in the fine fashion of my Aunt Reatha, it was my bedtime, so I had to go night night. It was one of the most enjoyable reunions that I have had in some time. Well, at least since a couple of years ago when I attended the Bryant-Burdett family reunion in Tampa. Lavida 11-15-2003 MY
CLAY Since
I was about twelve years old nothing has seemed right. All of
a sudden my world was turned upside down. I struggled to understand
why I felt so sad all the time, and eventually I only oscillated
between sad and angry. I wanted to feel that carefree, happy feeling
that I had known as a child. Sometimes a thing would happen, and
I would feel happy, even ecstatic for a very brief period, but
it never lasted for very long. I firmly held to the belief that
happiness was just a brief respite in between pain. I ran wild,
trying to outrun the hurt and bitterness inside of me. But everywhere
I went, there I was. I looked at other people, and for the most
part, they seemed to be happy most of the time. Their lives were
neat and orderly, and they weren't consumed by negativity. So
I began to clean my house. I thought that if I kept my house neat
and clean that everything else would become orderly as well. Sometimes
in a pinch, I would even clean out and organize my purse. This
actually helped to some degree, but the pain still wouldn't leave.
So I began to lash out. I thought that if I went on the offensive
and began being the one to issue the pain instead of waiting for
it to come to me, that I could outrun it that way. Then I just
became bitter and cynical. I just couldn't seem to figure it out.
Eventually my world began to spin farther and farther out of control.
I used drugs and alcohol to try and numb the pain. I just wanted
to not care about it anymore. I thought that if I just didn't
care about how miserable I was, that things would start to turn
around. People would see that I was totally unimpressed by their
attempts to hurt me; they would just give up and go away. I felt
that I was just defective in some way, and that the sooner I left
this world the better. I
even imagined my own grave marker engraved, FAILURE TO THRIVE.
God
had finally softened the clay enough so that he could work with
it. I had no idea just how tough I could be. He needed some really
tough clay for the job that he had in mind. So for all those many
years, he pounded, molded, softened, and made malleable that special
clay for the special purpose that he had in mind for it. He had
prepared just enough bitterness to make it compassionate. He had
prepared just enough pain to make it sympathetic. He had prepared
just enough frustration to make it unmovable. He had prepared
just enough anger to give it room to love. Then, when he was ready,
he put the clay in its mold and transformed me into a mommy. All
the pain didn't just go away. All the anger and bitterness didn't
just melt. Just a little bit stayed behind. Kind of like a backup
in case he needed to re-boot me. Finally, after all of those years,
I was able to find a real joy. A real happiness. And an eagerness
to help others escape their pain, anxiety, bitterness, and anger.
Now I know that when someone is in the clutches of such a devastating
mental and emotional state as I was, that they are not going to
be dissuaded from their hurt so easily. It isn't a quick fix.
But if any of the people that I come in contact with can look
into my eyes and see how cold and hard the clay of my heart used
to be, perhaps it will give them hope. Hope that even they can
be salvaged from life's garbage heap and become a happy, useful,
and even valuable piece of clay. I still want to go home, but
I am in no hurry. I am willing to wait my turn. Besides, I have
work to do. Stepping I
do not know how I missed the poem written by my 1st cousin, Mindy,
but "A Little Girl Sat Crying" really touched something
in me. You see, I have two little stepsons, ages 7 and 8 1/2.
The youngest was only 6 months old when his mommy went away. These
two boys were raised by their father until a little over a year
ago when I came into their lives (and they came into mine as well)
and felt that fate/ God/ Karma/ A higher power, however you choose
to describe the force that we all know deep in our hearts rules
the universe, had put me here to help this family. A deep yearning
that I had pushed so deep inside of me came rushing to the surface.
I realized that not only did this man need help, but his children
needed a mom to love, and I needed to be needed. Guess
what? I talked to an admissions counselor for University of Phoenix,
and I discovered that I can receive credits for the stuff that
I have published online! Is that awesome or what? I think we should
probably go through and take out stuff like old letters and stories
that were somewhat sub standard. What is your opinion on this?
Lavida 09-29-03 I have
another idea about your page on the website. If you want to send
me the parts of it that you want published I can do another "Lavida"
page, publish that too and then put a link to it off of the original
one. Virginia That
could work also. I just want to be able to present it in the best
possible way without any fodder in the way. Lavida What
Makes A Family? Today
we hear a lot about the demise of the family, taking family time,
family values, etc. But exactly what is it that makes a family?
When
I was a little girl, my family was my mom and dad and brothers.
But as I grew, the definition of who was my family began to shift.
There were marriages, divorces, births, deaths, and so on. Eventually
the line of who was family became very blurred. I learned about
family members that I never knew I had. I realized that there
were family members that I had never even met. And sadly there
were also family members that moved away, never kept in contact
and just seemed to disappear from the very earth itself. After
a while, the gathering of the family of my choosing began. I gathered
a whole family complete with aunts, uncles, grandparents, even
children and a sister (I always did want one of those). Are step
families any less family? What about adopted family? What about
ex family? I am fortunate to have parents and step parents that
all get along. My mother crochets for my stepmother. My stepfather
let my dad house sit and even borrow his truck. My mother and
stepfather spent the night at my father and stepmother's house.
My dad and his oldest son even attended my mother's family reunion
a couple of years back. Even exes can be family still. So then
I ask again………………What is it that
makes family? AUNT REATHER Yes, I said "Reather", because as a child, listening to all of my relatives with their very southern accents, that is how it sounded to me. As a little girl, being extremely shy and timid, Aunt Reather (i.e. Reatha Johns-Albury) was the quietest and most soft spoken person that I knew. I enjoyed visiting her home sometimes in the summer, and when I was 7 she gave me a surprise birthday party inviting the little girl next door and my cousin Mindy. She had a piano, and she let me "play" on it. (I never did really learn how). And she made the best roast and potatoes that I have ever had. At her house was the first time that I ever had thousand island dressing. I remember that I loved it very much. She always took me to church with her, and I loved staying with her in the summer so that I could go to vacation bible school. The other day while visiting the web site, I wandered into Aunt Reatha's page and saw looking back at me her beautiful face from 1965. It reminded me how angelic she looked. Don't get me wrong, ALL of those girls were knock down gorgeous! But Aunt Reather just seemed to have some intangible quality that just made it seem like she had been kissed by God. I have all of these memories of her, and I wanted to be sure that it was written down, in case for some reason one day I can't remember. Aunt Reather, I love you. Lavida 7-15-03 "On July 3, Lavida had a seizure, and Gerry and I went down to Oregon. Gerry stayed there until last Thursday....Mike" Thanks
a lot for ratting me out, Mike! Now they all KNOW my brains are
scrambled, before they were just guessing! HAHAHA OOPS!!!!!!! Guess I forgot to give everyone a time and date on that house warming party. It is this weekend. We plan on starting a little bit the Fourth of July, but since everyone pretty much has other plans for the Fourth, we are going to have our thing on Saturday. Anytime you wanna start showing up after noon is fine. Hope to see you there! The Breitwiesers Duane and Lavida 7-3-03 Good
afternoon and a great big perma grin to all of ya! We are back
online, up and running! The move is all complete and we have our
satellite. I feel like God has just picked me up and sat me down
somewhere along the outskirts of heaven. I'm sure that I must
have already passed over and someone just forgot to tell me, ha
ha ha!
First
I would like to thank everyone for their prayers and support while
Philip and Matthew were overseas serving our country. As we all know, the USA has been at war for right about a month or so. I have two sons over there right now, giving representation not only of our country, but also of our family. Matthew is serving aboard the USS Harry Truman. He began his Navy career as an aviation electronics engineer, but when it looked for sure like we were going to war, he requested a change in jobs, and was granted the change to gunners mate. This has something to do with the missiles all of us have seen on the news being fired from the decks of our mighty aircraft carriers. He is currently in the Mediterranean. My other son, Philip, is serving in the Air Force. He says that he is an "electrician." They are sending electricians on missions these days all over the world. Of course they can never tell us where they are or what they are doing. My sources tell me that he is "very tired of sand in his food." They would both love to receive emails. Following is a link to my e-mail, and I can forward them, that way they don't delete something not understanding who it is that sent them. Click Here To Send E-mail
MY GUARDIAN ANGEL I
have a guardian angel A SECOND CHANCE Sometimes when we least expect it, God sees fit to give us a second chance at something that we were not able to be successful at the first try. Now this doesn't happen very often, but it DOES happen. Some of us never learned how to drive a stick shift. Sometimes, later on in life we get yet another opportunity to master this fine art. And I call it a fine art, because as of yet, I have not mastered it. Never the less, although I am now 40 yrs old, I will not say that I will never master it. Cooking is another art, that although I was never REALLY good, due to circumstances beyond my control, I no longer know how to do this very well. I am now relearning many of the things and also learning new things that I was never able to do before. This alone, tells me how much God loves me and is willing to let me try again. So
for everyone out in computer land that reads these words, until
the day you finally bid this world goodbye, please never look
at your past mistakes and consider yourself a failure. There is
always a chance that someday when you least expect it, you will
be faced with the same challenge again. And when you do, I hope
that you will recognize the unique opportunity that has been laid
at your feet and try again with a new resolve to master the skills
that have eluded you before. Something daddy always said to me
is this; "You do not fail because you fell down, the only
time that you fail is when you no longer get back up." So
to all of you I say, "Suck it up! Take a deep breath and
try again! You are NOT a failure." I know that I am not.
Love to everyone, Lavida the good guys Lord, I do not want to be petty. I do not want to look at the little things that my neighbors do that displease me. But I would rather look at all the good and all the diversity of the world and marvel at each individual's uniqueness. I want to be a big enough person to overlook another's faults and to try and help to overcome another's shortcomings. And most of all, I want to be able to see my own faults and short comings, and have enough resolve to overcome anything that would not be pleasing to my fellow man. But at the same time recognize that I am not going to please everybody, and that as long as I am fair and honest in my dealings with others, that I must not deride myself for not being able to meet the needs of everyone. And Lord, let me know that I will not always be able to balance on that fine line, but that on the occasions when I do falter, that it is ok to admit my mistakes and to try not to repeat them in the future. And when others falter, let me be the first one to offer a hand up. Lord, just let me be one of the good guys. Amen. Lavida FORGIVENESS Have
you ever known two souls that for some unexplainable reason hate
each other? From the moment they first set eyes on each other
they just hate each other's guts? They seem to just walk around
each other with out even seeing the other. Once in a while there
will be some glares, snarls, maybe even a little spat. One of
them may even reach out and slap the other. But they never get
into a mindless, hard hitting, boxing match. The reason for that
is that they just don't care enough about the other to get all
that upset over the other's existence.
Then one day, out of the blue, you see these
two enemies walking side by side, or sitting off alone head to
head deep in conversation. Or you see a quiet private moment that
the two are sharing, and you wonder why we can't do that with
all that we have disagreements with. That no body would ever hold
a grudge for a life time. That they may take their time to heal
or to cool off, whatever the case may be.
I have seen these two enemies. They are
two of my cats. They despise each other. But today as I walked
through my living room, I spotted these two furballs, curled up
together taking a nap. It was the most precious thing that I have
seen in quite some time. And I am reminded of what I was taught
in Sunday school, about "consider the ant." Sometimes
you wonder why certain things are. Well, I believe that our animals
are here for several reasons. They are here to love us, and also
to give us a being to love back. They teach us about responsibility.
About taking care of another. And today, they taught me about
forgiveness
"A Sign Your Computer is Mad At You" graphic-Author Unknown My Computer Adventure - by LAVIDA
MINDY,
ME & THE ASPIRIN Have your kids, or maybe
kids that you know, ever done something that was so incredibly
stupid, that you just had to shake your head and wonder where
in the heck they came up with that one? And when you ask them,
"Why did you do that?" they just shake their heads,
shrug and say, " I dunno.". Well, this is just one of
those sort of incidents. Mindy and Aunt Virginia,
who were living in the Tampa area at the time, had come to visit
us in Orlando. Now you know how two little kids, when they get
together, have a tendency to cook up some really good head shakers.
We were no exception. My brother, Wyndal, ( although we called
him Todd, at that time.) had always been a very inquisitive and
adventurous child. You know, one of the ones that always had either
a scraped knee, black eye, or an arm in a sling. He always seemed
to come up with these "Lets try this and see what happens!"
kind of escapades. Well, he came up with
a real doozy. He decided to give Mindy and me each a baby aspirin.
They were good! Orange flavored. So then he gave me two. Then
Mindy two. I don't remember if he ate any of them or not, but
about the time the whole bottle was empty, Mom and Aunt V. caught
us. Oh My! We were in sooooooo much trouble! I remember Mom saying
something about "Do you want me to bury you out in the back
yard with your feet sticking up?" To this day, that image
haunts me. Buried head down, with my feet sticking out of the
earth. I'm not sure if that
was the time that mom put raw egg down my throat to make me throw
up the aspirin, or if it was another time, ( yes, I know, I was
a slow learner as a child, too) but to this day, I cannot stomach
eggs. They don't make it all the way down before they rebound.
I can't even smell them without getting sick. And all because
I had an aspirin when I was a little kid. Go figure. The Magic Radish Once
upon a time, there lived a Princess. Her name was Rochelle. Princess
Rochelle took much pride in her garden. She spent many hours there
lavishing her attention on her plants, flowers, and vegetables. Some
Days SUNSHINE Uncle
Bill, Thank you so much for remembering. Yes, you may use this
on the web site. I am sure there are probably others out there
that have lost little ones as well. Maybe not in the same way
that I did, but parted for the remainder of this life. I wrote
a poem for Steven after he died. I don't remember if I have already
sent this to you or not, so I will include it as well. You may
also use it, if you see fit. "
Sunshine "
SIDS We
were there. The home in north Florida was in mourning. A time
like this is never easy, especially when a young life is tragically
cut short. What does one say to a grieving mother? Not really
much to be said; just be there and try to provide comfort with
your presence. SIDS is so hard to understand. Like a thief in
the night, and a little ray of sunshine is no more. My Son May
23, 2002 Today I remember him. Today is the anniversary of his
birth. He lived for such a very short time. And yet he lived.
And those two months were his entire life. I look at my other
two sons, and my daughter. I see them as adults now. And I have
to stop and wonder. What would he have been like? How would he
look? What would he be doing? Would he be ok? Today he would have
been eighteen years old. He would have been a young man. Would
he love me as much as my others do? I am so thankful for having
my children in my life. And now my grandchildren. I love them
all so very deeply. But there will always be a little corner of
my heart reserved for the youngest of my children. Steven Charles
Wiese, Jr. Born 05/23/83--Died 07/12/83. My Angel, you will never
be forgotten. Love, Mom |
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Lavida's stories below are reprinted from Bryburcon.com First Edition The Bird and the Lion Long ago in a forest in Africa, there lived a beautiful but very timid little bird named Tatyana. All of the forest animals used to tease and chase Tatyana because they knew she was afraid of them and they found great sport in making her run away. Some of them were very mean and would try to catch her and eat her. Others just wanted to beat her up. Poor Tatyana became more and more afraid as the years went on. And her many close calls had made her so nervous that her beautiful feathers had begun to fall out. Finally she could stand no more and she crawled under a bush to hide and would not come out even to eat or to drink. One day, a very large and intimidating Lion named George came walking by. He heard a whimpering coming from under the bush, so he stuck his head down to see what was making such a pitiful noise. There all crouched and shivering he saw the tiny Tatyana crying. "Why are you crying?" he asked. "All of the animals hate me. They either want to tease me, or chase me, or beat me up," she told the Lion. "I am no good to anyone," she continued. "The monkeys, they laugh at me. They enjoy making fun of me because I am afraid. And the rhinos want to chase me and beat me up. There is no place in this whole forest for a timid little bird as myself." The Lion was so moved by Tatyana’s story that he began to weep himself. "I tell you what. Come and stay with me, and I won’t let any of the forest animals bother you." So the frightened little bird went to live with George, the Lion. And much to her surprise, he was very kind and gentle in spite of his large size and fierce teeth. Every day George would go out into the forest and gather Tatyana’s favorite nuts and berries. He brought her straw to make a warm nest so that she wouldn’t be cold. And after a while, he would take her with him into the forest, riding on his back. That way the other animals didn’t dare mess with her. Soon, Tatyana’s feathers began to grow back in, and they had never looked more beautiful. Sometimes the animals would make comments like, "What is that beautiful bird doing with that mean old lion?" But they never dared say it to George or Tatyana’s face. And the bird and the lion lived that way together for the rest of their lives, happy to be in each other's company. George protecting and feeding, and Tatyana singing and comforting. And there was never a happier couple in all the forest to this very day. THE END
HAS ANYBODY SEEN MY THIGHS? I look in the mirror. I look tired this morning. What are those bags under my eyes? When I feel better surely they will go away. And those lines? Don’t smile! Don’t laugh! No one will see them. But then there are those frown lines. When did this happen? Just yesterday I was young and fresh and beautiful. I am still young, aren’t I? All this weight! I have never been heavy before. If anything, I was too thin. I must lose this weight. I am too young to look like this. Maybe when I feel better, I will be back to my youthful looking self. After all, I am still young. When did this happen? It was just overnight. No one ever said it would happen like this. Just all of a sudden. Sure! My children are grown. But I had them young. Yes! I am a grandmother. But I am a young grandmother. I look in the mirror. My body is crisscrossed with scars from recent surgeries. But my thighs are still taut. Well, not at the moment. But I have been sick. When I feel better, they will tighten up again, won’t they? WHAT ARE THOSE THINGS UNDER MY ARMS?!!!!!! I MUST start an exercise program. And I will, once I don’t feel so tired anymore. The boobs hang low, but I nursed all my children. They simply went before their time. And the belly. We don’t even want to go there! After all, I AM still young. What are those things hanging from my jaw line? Jowls? A family trait that I thought I would never see on myself. Is this it? But it is too soon. I am still waiting for my life to settle down so that I can start living it on my terms. How did all this happen so quickly? How long has it been? Five or six years? WOW! That was quick! My heart races with the fear that my youth has slipped away, and I was so busy trying to live life that I didn’t even notice it. I look at the faces of my aunts and great aunts and other female relatives. I remember them with dew still upon the petals of their faces. Time has touched them as well. But they are still beautiful. What happened to me? Is this it? Is that all there was? I seem to notice more these days. The things that I was so adamantly against now seem to make perfect sense. Was I really that arrogant? I see an order in things that seemed so chaotic before. And wisdom in things that I thought were so narrow minded before. I am beginning to see a new beauty emerge. Not on my face or body, but in my heart and mind. Why couldn’t I have had both at once? But that just isn’t the order of things. I now understand the saying that " Youth is wasted on the young." Sure, I still dream about the days of my youth. But now with a new perspective. And I look ahead to a new phase of my life. Sure, there is still some trepidation. But there is also an eagerness. An eagerness to open the next gift. To see what else lies ahead. The end of youth is not the end, but rather a new beginning. Sure,
I would have done a lot of things differently. But I think that
there are many that I would have left just the same. The growing.
The learning. The love. Look out life! Here I come!
There's A Train Coming! I looked on in horror as I saw the train approaching. A young girl skipped along the tracks. I feared that she was oblivious to the impending doom, so I screamed out, " Look out! There's a train coming!" She didn't seem to hear me and kept on her way. Skipping and singing some faintly familiar song. Again I yelled, " Don't you hear the whistle?!! There's a train coming!" But she just replied, "I hear the whistle. Isn't it a lovely tune?" My mind raced back to years ago, as I had skipped along these same tracks. I remember the feeling of elation and freedom. "Can't you see the lights of the train? You are in danger!" I screamed. "I can see the beautiful lights! They are so pretty! They will light my way on these silvery tracks," she said. My heart aches as I remember the devastation once it was too late to avoid the oncoming disaster. "Please!!!!!! I have been on the tracks! Pain and anguish are all that await you there!" But still she skipped on. Nothing I said seemed to matter. She told me that these were her tracks and that she knew exactly where they were going. Still, I begged, " Please get off the tracks! I don't want to see you hurt the same way that I was. The pain will never go away! The hurt and carnage will not only follow you, but your children as well! Please, there is a train coming!" But still she would not listen. She smiled sweetly, singing the same haunting tune. And then the train struck with all of its devastating force. And I cried, "Oh, why wouldn't you listen to me? Why wouldn't you get off the tracks?" And in a soft voice she whispered, "But I thought I knew it all." I dedicate this piece to my daughter. And to her I say, "Honey, please get off the tracks! There's a train coming!"
WHEN CHRISTMAS RETURNED by Lavida Arnold When I was a very young child, Christmas was a time filled with wonder and anticipation. It was magical. Filled with elves, Santa, and flying reindeer. And for every question that I had, my father had an answer for it. "How does Santa deliver all of those toys to children all over the world in just one night?", I would ask. "On that one special night of the year, time stands still to allow Santa to complete his work." daddy would say. "What if I cannot sleep, and am still awake when he comes?" I would query. "His magic fairy dust proceeds him and puts all little boys and girls to sleep before he ever comes down the chimney." daddy would answer. "What about the children who have no chimneys?" I would prod. "That same fairy dust allows him to shrink real small, so that he can fit through even the tiniest holes in the screen." daddy would respond. As I grew older, and "wiser" Christmas lost that innocent magic. And slowly, year by year, it also lost the joy. Traffic and store crowds made going out a chore. Being short on funds made me feel inadequate, and unworthy to share in the celebration of this time of the year. Cynicism took the place of blind faith. I began to feel a strange camaraderie with Mr. Scrooge. (pre Christmas Eve visitation) But then something truly remarkable happened. I had grandchildren. And as I saw the joy and wonder in their tiny faces, the magic began to return. Not in the same way, but in a new and more meaningful way. You see, children believe in Santa Claus with blind faith. The season is not so much about trees, tinsel, lights, and presents. It is about the birth of our Lord and Savior. And even though we have never set eyes on him, we believe. And he has brought us a gift. He has given us faith. And he has given us hope. And my hope is that I will never again lose the wonder of this special time of year. God bless us, everyone.
MY NIGHT OUT WITH THE BEARS BY LAVIDA ARNOLD About 45 minutes later I was thinking that he should be there very shortly. About that time I remembered that someone had knocked over the mail box (which was about the only way to find the driveway in the dark). So I decided that I had better walk down to the end of the driveway with a flashlight so that I could flag him in when he came down the road. There are bears out in these woods. I have seen them myself, not to mention tracks on the property itself. I am standing out in the dark scared to death and hearing all kinds of critters moving around out in the woods.
Finally I see headlights, so I look to see if it is my friend. It wasn't, but the people had their high beams on which, of course, blinded me. Then I am standing in the dark, scared to death, and blind. All of a sudden I hear a big crash in the woods that sounded like a very large animal. I was so frightened that I just stood there and peed my pants! Fortunately
just then my friend arrived and drove me back up to the house so
that I could get in away from the bears and change my pants. At
39, could it already be time for Depends |
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