Monday, March 31, 2008

NYC/Macy's









I took the train down to NYC from my mother-in-laws on Friday for a late morning appointment which lasted over five hours. On Saturday I had an afternoon appointment so I used the morning to walk down to Macy's on 34th street.

Imagine my surprise when I entered the store and it was filled with flowers, plants, trees and bushes. The flower show was happening in Macy's. Yes, for two weeks the flower shop was the main event in Macy's. There were garden club tours guided by horiculturists, pointing out the different gardens, container gardens, southwest gardens, tropical gardens etc, and giving information on the trees, bushes, roses and flowers that were everywhere. What a sight, especially for this spring starved soul, down from the barren wastelands of upstate New York.

If you can see on the pictures: there was a model of the Botanical Gardens which is in the Bronx and is definately worth visiting any season of the year, if you are close to the city. Also, the last picture is a model of Macy's with the huge flower arrangement coming out of the top. Absolutely gorgeous!

Macy's was packed! It seemed like Christmas again.

As you can see, the daffodils are blooming in NYC. But coming through the mountains and arriving at 42 East Main, I was encouraged at how much snow had melted in the three days that I was gone. There's hope!

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Resurrection Day





We celebrated Easter this year. His Resurrection day. Reality; He is alive and He came to live and die for us. We were His prize, His living hope, His goal, His highest desire.

But real things are not simple and real life is often times difficult, hard, confusing and certainly not what we expected or hoped for.

We, as many other people, had to celebrate His resurrection with a determined will because a wife was missing her husband of only sixteen months, a family was still grieving and missing a son and friends were thinging about their lose.

The Philips translation says that "We are temporarily harassed by all kinds of trials and temptations." That seems too mild, too inconsequential. But yes, we look to the future and for the joy set before us, we go forward. We have hope because He had set His face like a flint towards Jerusalem to receive for us what we could not on our own achieve.

Pastels are traditional for Easter decorations. I understand the concept, new life, a coming forth out of the darkness of our spiritual seperation from God and into the wonderful life He always intended that we should have. Traditionally people have made it a time to get new clothes and appear all decked out in church on Sunday. I remember when I was growing up, we always got a new Easter dress, hat and gloves. Actually, it was the only time we went out to the stores and got new clothes, everyone. I did put up our Easter decorations but a new awareness had invaded my consciousness this year. Of a love so intense and so determined for us, for me, who does not deserve it on my own merit, whatsoever.

We had a tenebrae service at church on Good Friday. Mike, who organized the music for Elizabeth's wedding, plans this service each year. It is a somber service, one that is quiet, and reflective. One with long scripture narratives, a dimly lit church with 12 candles which are extinguished one at a time; at the end leaving the people in darkness, and hymns and special music sung without instruments. At the end of the service there is no benedition and the congregation leaves in silence, sensing His betrayal, abandonment and agony. And I again received a better understanding of what He did for me.

Isaiah 42 says that "He shall not fail nor be discouraged". Down through the ages He did not stumble or disengage Himself from the plan. What perserverance! And what faith. Discouragement seems so easy in our lives. We get down when the people disappoint us and I often think and wonder how God kept His faith and perserverance up through the ages when it seemed hopeless. And we can not really understand Isaiah 53:9-11 "And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth. Yet is pleased the Lord to bruise him; he has put him to grief; when thou shall make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand. He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied; by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities."

So we know what this accident was not. It was not that He did not love us. He proved that on the cross and by His leaving everything that was beautiful, good, true so He could redeem us, His beloved family. And we can say with assurance the verse in Isaiah 43:2,"When you pass through the water, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overtake you; when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned; nither shall the flame kindle upon you."

And confess Psalm 3; "Many will say, there is not help for him in God, But you of God are a shield for me, the glory and the lifter of my head. I cried to the Lord and He heard me out of his holy hill. I laid down and slept and he sustained me."

And so we had Easter. We celebrated His resurrection and the hope of our resurrection in the future with our adopted neice, Carol, and her wonderful husband, Andy, and our friends from China, Mary and Henry with their new daughter Meredith, who have recently come to love our Savior too; and with our youngest son up from NYC. And we sensed His presence and His love again that day.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

I caught her!

A Story

I spoke with my sister last night.

She reminded me about something my father had done years ago.

And she recounted a family story that I had forgotten. An important one. One that defines my Dad. One that shows how to act, how to respond and how to think, to subsequent generations of our family. A reflection of values and integrity and compassion. And I had forgotten, it had become buried in my subconscious.

And I remember God exhorting his people to remember. Remember their story and tell it during their festival. Their feast of Passover. "And it shall be when your son asks you in time to come, saying, What is this? that you should say to him. By strength of hand the Lord brought us out from Egypt, from the house of bondage......" Exodus 13:14. And they were to go through this story telling and showing by the unleavened bread and bitter herbs, the love of their savior, who lead them out by a strong arm. "You should therefore keep this ordinance in it's season from year to year." A rememberance. A telling of the story and the experience to their children. Oh yes, that is who we are, that's what our family experienced long ago. That is where we come from and He is the one who has saved us and sustained us, not we ourselves.

My dad worked in a bank in lower Westchester for his entire career. He became president at the end of his tenure and retained this position for his last ten years.
One evening during that time he sat at the dinner table with my mom and sister and told them:

"The trustees of the bank approved the raises for all the employees today. I declined my raise and asked if they might apply it to the tellers at the bank."

"What?" replied my mom. "You are the one that is responsible for all the decisions and for the success of the bank. You are entitled to that raise."

And with a soft rebuke he responded, "Ruth, we have all we need. We have more than enough. We have a lovely home, we belong to the country club, we have two functioning cars, we enjoy plenty of food, we have healthy children, we go on vacations. I am going to share my blessings with those who may have trouble paying their mortgage, or getting enough food for their families."

And that was all that was said. And so it was. And I am glad that Joan and Dad reminded me of who I am and where I have come from. Blessed of the Lord.

Easter, a time to remember and to rehearse our heritage. A time to tell THE story. What our Father did for us. The story of how we were rescued and restored. A time to remember and talk about Him. Our salvation and deliverance, something we could not do ourselves. And we are reconnected with our heavenly Father, because of what his son did, and we have fellowship again.

Monday, March 17, 2008

It's Coming!!!

Yes, I think it is coming. Spring that is. For those of you who do not know the intimacy of being "held captive" by the north country's artic winters, just the mere suggestion of spring brings tingles down one's spine, day dreams of not layering and determining each day which boots to put on,(short or tall, depending on the depth of snow) and hopes of putting away the snow shovels that are posted at every entrance. And perhaps a glimpse of color, other than white. Yes, I had a little peek and I think spring is on it's way.

Thursday evening I received my daily call from my husband. The call that tells me when and if he will be home from the hospital or office for dinner that night. I was in the kitchen preparing our meal, with the phone to my ear, when I spotted her outside my window in the bird feeder. I was almost apoplectic, I stammered, "Rob, there is a female cardinal in the bird feeder!!" I tried to call to the girls who were sitting in the family room to come and see this magnificent sight, but I could not get the words out. I fumbled to get my camera out and document the sighting. And then she was gone, but in her place was her magnificent husband sporting his brilliant red coat. In my excitment I just could not get the camera to click the picture, I keep pushing the button to turn the camera off. Oh well, I guess everyone has seen a cardinal before but for us........

We get excited over simple pleasures.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Books



We're book people. I love how words fit together. How a scene can be described. How emotions can be captured. How a character can be developed and a story consume a reader. We love novels, biographies, gardening books, theology books, English history books, children's books. There's a great used bookstore in the city, Argosy, which we love to poke around in when we're down visiting.

We've always wanted to turn our family room into a library with built in bookshelves and a library table. I don't have enough shelves to house all our precious friends.

When I was in second grade our teacher gave us an assignment to write a letter to our favorite author. And mine was Thornton Burgess. He was a naturalist and conservationist. I did not know that then, only that his stories about the outdoors and the creatures that inhabited Smiling Pool and the Old Briar -patch came alive to me. I loved his stories.

He wrote me back. And I still have his letter, bless my mom for keeping it for me. I have several of his books from my childhood and it was really fun to visit his birthplace this summer in Sandwich, Cape Cod. There is a small museum there and a nice lady who said she would look for the letter I had written him so many years ago.

He was brought up by his mother after his dad died the year of his birth, 1874. As a youth he worked all year long to earn money to help his mom. One of his employers lived near Discovery Hill Road, a wildlife habitat of woodland and wetlands and a pond. Many of his stories involved these places. He married and lived in Boston and was a reporter for one of the Boston papers. They had a son, but his wife died and the son went to live with relatives. Trying to show his son a bit of his heritage he wrote him bedtime stories about his "growing up" years in the rural Sandwich. They became so popular with some of his friends that they were published in local newspapers, gradually being collected into book form. His good friend Harrison Cady illustrated his original stories. By the time of his death in 1965 he had written over 15,000 stories and 170 books.

I had put one out in the back "garden room" last summer. Rob picked up LongLegs the Heron and read the book. "I know why you love those books", he said. "They're all about lessons." And he was right I guess. I had never made the connection. But woven in amongst all the wonderful meadow friends are lessons about bravery, truth, honesty, humility, loyalty and love.

Thornton has little "sayings" under each chapter head. Such as:

A friend stands through thick and thin,
And holds desertion as a sin
Longlegs

Young Heron had become caught in a trap in Smiling Pool. Peter Rabbit had become aware of his situation and the perils that were lurking among the reeds. Billy Mink, Reddy Fox and Old Man Coyote. At first he thought there was nothing that he could do. Those were all his enemies too. He wished he could do something but as the evening approached he thought he would just go back to his dear old Briar-patch and run over in the morning to see what happened at night. But his conscience gets the better of him and he hids himself near the young trapped heron. He gets ready to leave in the morning and is set to say goodbye when he catches a glimpse of something red moving in the swamp. He knows it is Reddy fox. His first thought is that Reddy is hunting for him. But realizes that he is after young Heron, and Reddy doesn't even know that he is there.

If he stays hidden in the reeds, Reddy would not find him. He would find the helpless Heron caught in the trap. Why should he, Peter, risk his life for someone who probably would not thank him?

"Shame," said someting inside Peter. "Shame on you." Peter slipped swiftly away under the ferns and headed so as to cross right in front of Reddy Fox. And as he ran, it came to him that he was going to help, after all, and he was glad."

Wonderful lessons told with engaging animal characters, around a charming wood, cool dark glade and Smiling pool. And the Merry Little Breezes of Mother West Wind dancing all around each chapter, singing little songs and whispering soft encourgements to all who will listen.

Monday, March 10, 2008

Celebrating our Heritage









We had an international dinner at 42 East Main Street on Sunday. What fun!

Rob and I belong to a little Supper Club here in town which meets about four times a year. When we all make it we are about 30 people and 28 of those folks came to celebrate each others heritage yesterday. People are divided up to bring either a appetizer, salad, main dish or dessert, and we usually have an abundance of food.

Most everyone had Irish ancestors, that was interesting. But there was a smattering of Italians, Germans, Scottish, one Newfoundlander and the resident Scandanavians; Swedish and Norwegian. And we had great food. For the appetizers; outside of Rob, I only had one taker for the pickled herring but my Norwegian Gjost cheese (dark, sweet goats cheese) was sort of a hit, at least several people tried it. There was shrimp, English cheese fondue, Italian and Irish cheese, and German sausage.

We had Scottish Bonnie Price Charlie Chicken, yummy, Italian Eggplant Parmagiania, Norwegian meatballs, Irish Creamy Crunchy White Fish Salad, Irish Beet Salad, Italian Rigatoni, Italian Antipasta Salad, German Ragout, and for dessert; English Trifle, German Rum Cake, and Swedish Laggtarta,(a light pan cake layered with puree fruit and served with fresh fruit and whipped cream. The Scandavanians can't find enough things to put butter and heavy cream with; the meatballs are even baked in heavy cream)

We had a great time together. Three ladies even wore their "family" plaid kilts. It was surprising that it all came together because we just had 16-18 inches of snow on Saturday night, necessitating the arrival of two bobcats to plow our driveway so all could get in and out. We north country people are a hardy bred though - wouldn't think of letting two feet of snow get in the way of a get together!!

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

The Road More Traveled







It was a brilliant day both ways. The trip down and back to the city through the Adirondacks. Again. And again.

We live near a harsh and extreme place. Not many choose to make the Adirondacks their home, but for those that do, and for those who travel through, God's majesty is revealed in it's severity. Especially in it's long winter.

Snow draped over the Adirondack hills. Around bends familiar sites; a house, a barn, a church, Joe Indian Pond, Backwoods Inn, French Pond, white birches, raging rivers. Familiar sites, so different in each season.

Through the forests along the road, evergreens appear as brides clothed in white garments waiting, ready for their bridegrooms. While oaks and poplars stand tall and erect, sentinels stiffly reaching upward. Standing guard among their brides and streching up towards their maker. Occasionally, gentle breezes blow loose snow which rise up as gossamer veils around the waiting brides. Beautiful.

And my senses are acutely aware of struggles not my own. The glacial ivory ice adhered to the jagged rock of the mountains; appearing as faces peaking out of the rock, bonneted with soft white snow. Looking out. Awaiting the transformation, a promise of things to come. A release and freedom to become part of the rivers below, again.

I continue on , sensing His presence and His love, my companion the solitary piano notes of Frank Defino Jr playing "Imagine That". And I can almost imagine that, the restoration, the putting things back together, the hope and the promise He left. The new heaven and new earth. Restoration.

And I visit a son, and a city which holds so many wonderful, warm family memories.