Tuesday, March 20, 2012

The Old Oak Tree


by: Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)
             THINK that I shall never see
                 A poem lovely as a tree.
      A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
      Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
      A tree that looks at God all day,
      And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
      A tree that may in Summer wear
      A nest of robins in her hair;
      Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
      Who intimately lives with rain.
      Poems are made by fools like me,
      But only God can make a tree.
This poem was published in 1914. That's probably about the time our large oak tree was planted in front of our house on Wrightsboro Road.
It grew to be very large and quite beautiful. It towered over our front yard and hovered over the street like a green canopy. When we discovered our tree seven years ago, it was hiding amongst a jungle of scrubby bushes and undergrowth that had been neglected for a decade. As we cut away the bramble and brush, there it stood. Crosses were etched in the side of it's trunk. Countless numbers of people had passed that tree, some had stopped to make their mark, some may have stopped for a rest in it's shade. Oh to think if it could have talked.

Even  the strongest, most beautiful things in this world have an end..as did our tree.

Today the city came to cut it down. Too old and too frail to make it safely through too many more storms, it was decided that it must come down. Piece by piece they dropped it. Three foot sections thudded to earth and shook the house. I could not help but feel sad as I watched the pieces fall. Such a grand tree. Such a long life.

Now the blank space seems to scream to me. I know it was just a tree. But I can't help but notice constantly that it's gone.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

A Tale of 3 Horses

During a trip to Wal-Mart tonight, Addison and I took a tour through the toy isles in search of the perfect horse.
Addison has taken a liking to some toy horses at school. It's probably due to the fact that her good friend Sloan loves horses and always has one with her. Every day I come to pick her up, she has at least two horses in hand that eat with her and go to the potty with her.
As a reward for pottying so well lately I promised her that I would buy her a horse of her own.
There were only three horses in the entire department: a large flashy pink Barbie horse, a Fisher Price Horse that neighs with a rider and a small Cinderella with her white horse.
Now in the world of toddlers, this was a huge decision because I told her she could only have one of the horses.
Addison studied the horses hard. It was amusing to me at first. One, because she was so seriously considering each horse and two because she kept telling me the same thing. "Mommy, I want two ones."
"No Addison, you can only have one horse. Just one."
Over and over again, she picked out two.
"Which horse do you want mommy to buy?"
"This one and this one, " she's say.
Finally we narrowed it down to two and then the decision was easier as we chose our winning horse.
The horse that made it? The Fisher Price that neighs.
The best part was that grin spread across her face and her next statement.
"Mommy, I'm so happy!"

Saturday, March 3, 2012

To Laura

I overheard a story today. It touched my heart.
A man and woman met and fell in love. His cancer returned. Knowing well what she might be in for, the woman accepted his marriage proposal. They were legally married on March 2, 2008. The years go by. The cancer is held at bay as it charges again and again. Each time the man fights. He never loses resolve. Neither does the woman. She cares for him through every stage, through every hospital visit, through every surgery and chemo treatment. When he is well enough, they travel. They spend as much wonderful time together as they can to prepare for the inevitable. Years pass and the man, though strong emotionally and mentally, cannot fight the effects of the cancer anymore. She is there with him as he breathes his last breath. She is sad, yet relieved that her love will not hurt anymore. He never complained, but she knew....she knew. They hold a memorial service for him in a church he helped build...on March 2, 2012.

To Laura Jeffcoat. A strong woman. A faithful woman. Happy Anniversary.
Your rewards will be great. You were exactly what God designed a wife to be.
Thank you for loving my Uncle Darrell through so many hard times. More hard times than you ever deserved. I will forever be grateful to you and will always hold you in the highest esteem.