Quote of the Day – Wonder

December 1, 2012

Sunsets, like childhood, are viewed with wonder not just because they are beautiful but because they are fleeting.   – Richard Paul Evans –

tall trees at sunset

How blessed are we to be Christians who know the King of Kings and Lord of Lords and to realize awe and wonder – His awe and wonder = belong to us every moment from this life into the next!!!

Photo by Martha L Shaw – Copyright 12-1-2012


Monday Afternoon – Uplift Your Spirits!

August 27, 2012


My Cathedral

August 25, 2012

My cathedral is never locked . . .

it has no doors . . .

there are no walls . . .

yet . . .

it inspires me with its beauty . . .

its songs touch my heart . . .

melodies of praise and wonder . . .

awaken me each and every day . . . .

The hand which built it . . .

loves me very much!

by Martha L Shaw – Copyright 8-20-12


The Blooming, Blossoming Beauties

October 13, 2011

If you need your spirits lifted and to look at the beauty of God’s creation, follow this link and it’ll brighten  your day. 

The Blooming, Blossoming Beauties.


The Colors of Fall

October 7, 2011


Why Didn’t My Ancestors Smile More?

September 16, 2011

I love looking at old photographs just as I always loved listening to the stories my late father told me.  Thinking about my parents as I look at the tattered pictures that represent a past I know so little about, I can’t help but wonder how my happy and laughing parents, and thus I as well,  could come from such somber-faced lineage. 

In my Mom’s case there seemed few if any children in the many photographs.  Mom even now so late in life finds reasons to giggle.  I think perhaps she was just what they needed to break free.  In my late father’s family it was quite a different story.

 My Dad was my hero.  To this day if you ask me I’ll insist that he knew everything and could fix anything from a broken doll to my broken heart and it brings tears to my eyes even now when I realize that he’s not in the next town or the next room with his arms out ready to hug me and “fix it.”  He always could. 

 My Dad didn’t learn those things in school, though, because he wasn’t able to go to school but for a very few years.  He was tall for his age and strong.  He was needed to use that streangth and height to help support his family.  You see, the polio epidemic came to the country town he grew up in and nearly took his only brother and his Dad, my Grandfather.  Grampy was so young then and no longer able to work.  My Dad needed to work and help support his family at a time when he should have been grumbling about homework and playing ball or riding his bike.  He didn’t complain.  I wasn’t there but I knew my Dad.  I’m sure I’m right in saying he didn’t complain.

My Dad rarely complained.  He also rarely had any extra money.  There was always another bill to pay with every dollar he could earn.  With just an elementary education, though, he learned more than many with 16 years or more of classroom time.  How?  Because when he was with a person, he was interested in that person.  He focused on the person.  He cared.  Everyone he met was his “pal.”  I so ofteen heard him saying “hi pal!”  He met people down and out and people who were “big” name folks and they all were greeted that way.  They all loved him and called him “hero” just as I still do. 

He often spoke of the things he learned from these people.  He learned “simple” things, in his own opinion.  He could build a house, fix the plumbing, make a lamp, install a telephone when it wasn’t simply a wireless device.  He could fix breakfast or a broken baby doll.  Anyone who needed something fixed and was baffled knew they could call on him.  He’d fix it.  He’d always know just what to do.  He always smiled.  Those old family photographs betrayed how challenging life was “in those days” but not the ones with my Dad in them.   He always had a smile, a laugh, an outstretched hand. 

Funny, he would say he didn’t know much and that he learned from everyone around him.  I think he had it wrong and I know they’d all agree.  I believe they learned far more from Dad than he ever learned from them, and Dad met every challenge with a smile!


Leaping For Joy!

August 22, 2011

Just driving down the street to fill my car with gas the other day brought tears to my eyes as memories of my Dad came flooding back to me.  The anniversary of his death is coming near.  My Dad was my hero but not because he invented something world changing and not because he discovered a cure for the common cold.  My Dad was a country boy.  In my eyes he could do anything.  He found joy in simple things and taught me to do so as well.  He always had a smile, a laugh, a hug.  As I drove down the street with my car windows open, I saw a bit of smoke in the air and heard the crackling sounds of a brush fire well controlled in the neighbor’s yard and smelled that oh so familiar smell.  The smoke didn’t bring tears to my eyes, though.  It was the memories from long ago. 

One of my favorite memories is really just a small thing and yet I can remember it so well now as decades have passed and I am that 6 year old again.  I can hear the sounds from that day long gone, can smell the aromas that marked the day, and feel the textures.  Daddy was out in the yard raking leaves.  We had lots and lots of them as the yard and neighborhood were filled with trees and it was autumn.  The lovely colors were turning to rust as the leaves dried out and fell from the trees and he had a huge pile of them ready to burn.  I watched.  I can hear the squeak of the rake against the hard earth.  I can hear the crunch of the branches and dried  brush under my feat.  I watched from the stairs as the pile grew higher and higher.  Finally Daddy was satisfied with his progress and went into the cellar to get a hose and some matches to burn the leaves and put out the fire.  As he disappeared from view, I saw my opportunity

Jumping up from my watchful spot on the stairs, I ran to the pile of leaves and leaped into the pile!  As I did, the leaves flew into the air and I landed on the soft pile and then leaped up again and again!  Each time I landed back down into the soft, dry leaves, I swung my arms about me and giggled with joy as the leaves flew higher and higher into the air then fell back to land on my nose, in my hair, and scattered about the yard!  It seemed to me at the time that Daddy must have been having trouble finding that hose because I had plenty of time to leap for joy in the pile of leaves!  Looking back, I am older now than my Daddy was then and I know he must surely have been standing nearbv and watching me.  Maybe he was remembering the small boy he used to be and remembering my Grampa doing what he was doing. 

 Daddy had to do a lot of the raking all over again after my time spent playing with the pile of leaves was over.  I remember it all so well.  I don’t recall getting scolded, though, nor even frowned at.  I only recall the grin on Daddy’s face as he came from around the corrner of the yard carrying the hose and box of matches.  I can hear his laughter even now.

I love you, Daddy!

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