Anonymous Family

  I had an occasion to be at the specialties clinic at the hospital a few months ago. And while awaiting the Dr. to fit me in...I got to observe a young couple w/their little boy. The mom had been gone for awhile somewhere and the dad was a very very cute/handsome typical guy w/a ball cap and gray t-shirt, well built, strong and young, for sure. He was what you might call a "hunk"! Yes, even old ladies notice!

Well there he was with his little son perched on his lap and he was patiently reading a story to him. The little guy was pretty attentive and well behaved...probably around 2 and a half or three tops. I noticed dad being exceptionally patient when the boy climbed down off his lap. Dad had told him to "not go past the line" across the floor, that separated the clinic from the hospital atrium.
And the little boy dutifully stayed close by. Mom came in and was "ME" when I was that young. She had on a black split top that tied in the back. She was slim, long straight brown hair that she easily gathered with a twist into a pony tail of sorts in the back. She was just lovely. She immediately sat down w/her little family and I saw him brush hair from her eyes. They gave each other a short kiss and not long after, they were all called back into the lab/xray area away from view.

I don't know why they intrigued me so, I just know that I felt an instant warm bond with these perfect strangers right off.
And my "mom" instincts prompted me to utter a silent prayer on their behalf. After all, they WERE in a hospital clinic.

I didn't know why they were there, or just who was being seen, or for what - but I was just compelled to ask God for protection of this loving, lovely little threesome.

They reminded me so of my husband and I just starting out in life so very many years ago. Our new little son and the love and connection shared then. Made me sentimental and somewhat wistful of the past. We travel such long and winding roads in our journey called life...and I guess that loving little group will be on my mind for some time to come. I'll keep praying for them, and although I don't know who they are... God does.

And in our traveling through the thickets of trouble, I may not be able to do any one thing for them in life that you can put your finger on and say, "This was what I did to help them on their way" - I can do one thing that will help, that they will never even know about...and that is to pray that God will keep them safe through the storms that inevitably will come.

Through the unforseen winds of change and mighty Tsunami's of trouble that can test even the most secure family foundations and threaten to sweep them away, maybe, just maybe... the sincere prayers of a stranger will help them to keep their eyes open to the rainbow at the end of each one, instead of the storm clouds which have threatened to break them.

I am not quite sure why we are imprinted with random situations and people we happen upon in life, but we often are. In this case, I observed a beautiful, attentive and loving, very young little family just beginning life together...and in light of the craziness of the world that surrounds them, the trials that are sure to come, I desperately want them to make it through whole and intact at the end of it all..

God bless this little family and keep them in your care...

And you? Keep your eyes open towards the rain clouds and never stop looking for that rainbow of hope at the end of your storm.

Have a good day! (gosh, I was skinny way back when...and had HAIR!!)
Linda

Growing up in Boone, Iowa

This was my very first school some fifty-eight years ago!

For me, much of it was a blur. My childhood was just sort of "there"... but, I do remember Marion Street and the Marion Street United Methodist Church, pretty well. I remember Reverand Hoyle. And I remember that he was killed when a tractor he was driving overturned on him.

I can vividly remember the cool cement basement of the church where I went to Sunday School. My mom was part of the ladies group and she and I would be in church on Sundays. My dad only went on Easter back then. I remember that it's the first time I ever heard that Jesus loved me. Although I wasn't sure about Him! :-)

I walked from our tiny little house all the way up Marion Street, past Lyle and Goldie Dorrel's place and the Thompson's (the local drug store guy) and Carrel's (on the corner)... and then straight East a couple of blocks to Lincoln Grade School. It's where I started. I just heard that they will be doing away with Lincoln School soon, which saddens me. So much of the few memories I have are tied into the time worn landmarks and buildings there, and they seem to be disappearing one by one.

It was a good place as I remember, where a kid could be a kid. Where teachers actually cared about whether you learned something or not. Miss Ball was the principal, and I remember Miss Maroff, the fourth grade teacher (I think). She's the one that caught me and Larry Phipps and Bill McBirnie making fun of her and made us stand out in the hallway for the duration of class! We really did deserve it. And I walked to school with Chris and Candy Culver and Ted (Thurlow) Deal. I remember seeing President Eisenhower and Mamie traveling East bound through town one year...I might only have been in kindergarten or first grade then.

And I remember downtown West Boone! Maggie and Max's corner drug store where a kid could go and get a scoop of chocolate ice cream with marshmellow sauce and Max would always put a cherry on top, for a pittence! My favorite time was meandering my way to Maggie's Drug store and spending the pennies and nickles on that fantastic green spearmint flavored taffy and Walnetto's, and pink candy lipstick! And of course listening to Max's worldly wisdoms.

Yep! My very young years I remember with some measure of joy and warm fondness. And I feel sad that today's kids don't have the opportunity to experience that simple life, that gift of being able to just be a kid...without the heavy demands and responsibilities that they seem to be loaded up with today. No rush to get to this ball game or that lesson, only a rush to get home, peel off the school duds and shoes and run barefooted in the grass until suppertime acting out whatever our imaginations could conjure!

West Boone was home. And a fine place to foster the hopes and early dreams of one little girl. I'll write more about it later...what about you? Was your home town a nurturing place or a nuthouse you couldn't wait to get out of?

On beginnings...

In my previous post, I'd mentioned a long sought after answer to the mystery of our paternal heritage.

Through several generations, there was a bit of a 'tall tale' scenario handed down by word of mouth. One that left us all wondering, and, pretty much ended with my Father's Father.
No one had any information concerning my grandfather Pharaoh beyond the fact that he married our grandmother and had kids who in turn, had us!

But the mystery had been revealed that someone somewhere had been left on a doorstop in England and that orphaned child was given both his first and last name from the Bible, and then raised in the family of the ones that took him in.

Well, now the mystery is somewhat put to rest. With the revelation from a newly found 4th cousin, once removed, that my (and her) great great great grandfather, was indeed a foundling left on the stoop (by gypsies some suspect), in October of 1747. He was immediately taken to the local Vicor of St. Catherine's Church of Eskdale. It was St. Crispin's Day and the Vicor therefore gave my great great great Grandfather the first name of Crispin. A now, long-standing name in the Pharaoh family lineage.

The last name: Pharaoh, was given him it is thought for the association of gypsies that had encamped where the child was abandoned and their subsequent association with the tribes of Egypt...and, or...the better explanation in my opinion, because little Crispin was orphaned to be raised by strangers, just like little Moses set upon the bull rushes and taken in by Pharaoh's daughter.
Regardless, that's quite a beginning for a family lineage! And it's truly odd that the pages of the book that these facts were recorded in at St. Catherine's, several generations later, 1950, to be exact, was vandalized and ripped from the book!

Why would anyone in the world not want the information on those pages to exist any longer? Ah, another mystery.

And in a day when gypsies were not known to abandon boy children to strangers, it makes it even more odd. But...the facts were recorded. The records show the truth of my Great Great Great Granfather's tenuous beginnings. And my family stands as living proof that Crispin grew up to be a father, grandfather and great great great grandfather to many generations.

It is my understanding that Crispin spent his days working in and around the church where he began life, St. Catherine's. The Vicor must have felt a special kinship to the young orphan that he had such a part in starting on his life journey.

I have so many questions and probably always will. But at least now I have some solid footing on which to build. And, thankfully, answers to questions I and my siblings have had our entire lives through.

Crispin Pharaoh. An honorable man. An orphan...taken in and grown into young manhood to carry on through the ages. A constable, waller (brick worker) and young father to many! My humble beginnings.

I have much to be grateful for today!

Thrilled!

In all my years...some odd sixty two of them now, and in my geneology endeavors, I have never once gotten past my paternal grandfather. It was he who brought these efforts to a stand still completely!

My paternal grandfather's lineage always stalled with him.
My cousin from California was here last month and informed me that his daughter (another cousin whom I've never had an occasion to meet), had been in contact with a woman from the UK, where we all knew we'd had our humble beginnings.
He contacted his daughter who then emailed to see if it was alright to submit my email address to this lady in the UK, for which I agreed.

I am SO glad I did!!

She contacted me right away and invited me to her family site on ancestry.com. Ours is on myheritage.com. She had in excess of 4,000 members and information with a direct link to my father's lineage there in England! Needless to say, I was seeing information that I'd never seen before! Pictures that brought it all home for me, and a realization that things that we'd heard as 'rumors' throughout the decades, were indeed true!!
To say I was thrilled with all of this is an understatement, as we'd searched for some truth and sense of belonging for years! Now, here it was right in front of me.
All this new information will keep me busy for a long while as I digest the new found facts of my origin.

How interesting and gratifying to have a sense of beginning and belonging.
And as I think about this, I realize how akin this feeling is, to the absolute sense of 'family' and belonging that comes with an adoption into the family of God.

When we finally 'find our place' in God's family, after possibly a lifetime of just sort of muddling through our days trying to figure out how everything is supposed to work, just where we fit in this vast universal schematic called 'life', and why we should even bother trying to find out... to finally, actually make the discovery that we DO belong somewhere...we have 'connections'.

God's family is not all-inclusive. It is an open door into one of the biggest families of all. The only thing one has to do, is find the right door. When you do, that same thrill that came with the realization that my earthly family ties actually DO exist and go way back and have always existed, and that they include me and my entire family...is an overwhelming thrill.

My lineage had it's beginnings In Egremont, Cumberland, England. But even before that...I believe I have a heavenly 'connection'...that far out-thrills this new found knowledge of mine.

Have a great day everyone, and may you always find your place in this world...and beyond!

Speaking of the Walton's

...I saw the episode where Elizabeth had her heart broken from her first crust on an "older man"... the parson...who, of course, had to let her down gently.
It was so touching.
John went up to her room and just gently talked her through it and offered his own "broken heart" story as a young teenager of fourteen.
He then gave her a hug and offered to take her out to dinner and dancing so she could wear the "new dress" she had painstakingly made "just for her crush!!"...so he would notice how grown up she was.

She refused, but later came down in that dress with her first time ever nylon stockings on ready for that date w/dad. Jason was at the piano and they danced around the room before they left.

I cried.

I remember vaguely dancing on my dad's shoes at the Saturday Night Shindigs that my mom and her band played locally. Well, locally for us...actually, a lot of them were in the next town over in their City Hall building.
I only remember two other things about my dad really...at least good things that I can cling to. He always saved his chocolate oval shaped cake with the creme filling and pecans at each end from his lunch to give to me when he got home from work.
I looked forward to them almost every other day. And, I think he attended one father daughter function when I was in Bluebirds (or maybe by then, Campfire Girls??)... and I remember little about it actually.

I longed for that Walton type of Father my whole life. And although it was merely a show on tv...I envisioned that it was about as close to what everyone would ever want in a dad or family you could get.

And while I didn't have that experience in life, I am looking forward to getting to heaven some day (at least I hope so), and when I get there, one of the first things I'd like to do is ask my heavenly father if He'd dance with me.

And if He says yes...it's then I'll really know His love for me is real.

How about it? Are you looking to dance in heaven one day?

Have a good day and, a good week end up coming.

The Waltons

...we are not. Nor are many of the families I know. Lately, my tiny three (which constitutes our immediate family at the moment), have begun watching the reruns of this television series from the 70's.
It's been so long now that they all seem like new episodes to us. Oh, we remember some of them or bits of others, but on the whole, it's like watching them for the first time, and we love it!
Even my husband has commented that he "tears up" when watching them on occasion.

Now, here we are, well into the 21st century "tearing up" and pining over a make believe tv show family from long ago. What is it about them that pulls our heart-strings? Why, after 35 plus years later, are we so drawn to the drama that was made up of a family of actors playing the parts of a well-rounded family of the depression and WWII era's?

I think back then, even as we do now...we long to BE that family. We long for the days of simplicity where family cared for one another unconditionally and deeply. Where nothing came between them and if you insulted one, it was an insult to all.
That pretend family up on the mountain found the little girl 'me', yearning to be a part of them back then, and still today.
It's not something akin to anything I had ever experienced in my lifetime, nor ever would.

Where problems weren't always kept at bay, but when they arrived, were sent packing by the strength and determination of a united front known as "family"... The Walton Family.
One dared not cross Olivia, as JD Pickett found out when he gave her no place to care for the children of the women working in his war factory, but instead decided to put up a tavern! She quietly gathered those children who had been left to fend for themselves in the local parking lot, marched them into that newly established bar and stated that she & the children would be there every day until there was a place for them! He acquiesced and gave her the hours she needed for a day care...right there, her contribution to the war effort.

And John kept a firm but always loving hand upon his children and truly loved his wife...the ultimate example of how it should be done to his then tv children...and to us. The wisdom of Grandpa Zeb who also loved his Esther beyond comprehension...the wiliness of the two of them, the twinkle in their eyes when you just knew they were "up to no good"... and the way they sparkled and came to life when their loved ones were around.

Yes, we all have a deep longing for that kind of relationship within our own families. And some of you may have been or maybe are, blessed to have it.

In today's world especially, we long for those simpler times and the types of things portrayed on our tv screens then, that seem so lacking now.
I guess the closest thing I can see that can even begin to come near it is the series, 'Parenhood'... a Waltonesque' setting in modern times.

Maybe that's the reason we find ourselves somewhat unfulfilled. Why so many of us take to the keyboard rather than the game boards we used to gather around the table to play with our families. The Walton's could seem to do all things right. They were a wonderful example that seemed too good to be true to most of us.
But they gave us a goal to aim for.
Sometimes it was a hit, at others a miss. But through all of our REAL LIFE growings and growing pains, we tried.

And sometimes trying can be enough.

God bless you and your family today. We may not be the Walton's, but most of us can rest in the assurance that we sure gave it our best efforts. And as imperfect as the world is, we have to believe that our best is enough.

~Now~

A quick "Thank You" to my dear friend, Mary Ellen, for posting about my computer ills.
It's not fixed, but presently working. I'll be back as often as the confounded thing keeps breathing!

Have a good rest of the week end! G'night all!
Linda

Quote-Worthy

A truer quote was never spoken...

“I have seen weapons of mass destruction...
I have seen weapons of mass destruction.”

Poverty - is a weapon of mass destruction.
Homelessness - is a weapon of mass destruction.
Joblessness - is a weapon of mass destruction.
Poor Health Care - is a weapon of mass destruction.

And...when a government lies to it’s people
THAT - is a weapon of mass destruction! - Dennis Kucinich