Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Happy Birthday Kayla!

What nicer way to make a child smile than to write her a poem. For my neice's 6th birthday I mailed her a home made card. Inside was a poem that I had written. And to make it extra special I added pictures that I had drawn of Kayla to colour. I'm told Kayla laughed about the poem and she coloured the pictures right away. As the giver, I think I got more out of this than anyone.

When Kayla turned one
She sang in the sun.
When Kayla turned two
She played the kazoo.
When Kayla turned three
She swam in the sea.
When Kayla turned four
She danced on the floor.
When Kayla turned five
She learned how to dive.
But now that Kayla’s six
She eats banana splits.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Bread Baking

It's very hot today. Summer has finally arrived. The heat reminded me of stories my grandmother told me when I was a child. I loved hearing how different her life was to mine. Her home had no electricity, so bedtime was when the sun went down. In winter that meant long sleeps. I wonder if people had sleeping problems then like they do today. With the work harder, I imagine that their sleep was sweeter.

Grandmother likes to tell me about a time
She helped her mother bake bread.
Outside in ovens made of brick and stone
Its aroma filled the air, she said.

Grandmother smiles remembering the bread,
Brown bread she helped bake.
Pounding balls of dough on large stone slabs
Until her arms began to ache.

I like to think how she must have looked
Collecting wood to build the fire.
Until it reached the right color and temperature,
Her face red with perspire.

Grandmother couldn't wait for the bread to cool.
And tells me how good it tasted.
And though it lasted for just a few days
Not a piece of it was wasted.

I asked Grandmother, “Do you miss that bread?
And how it tasted so fresh and good.”
She nods and says she misses the taste of the bread,
But not cutting all that fire wood.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Apple Picking

I took a lovely walk this morning. The orchards and vineyards were pretty as a postcard. While I walked I mulled over an embarrassing incident that happened on the weekend, and felt so fortunate. (Would you believe I called the police to report my son missing when I didn't find him in bed and there was no car in the driveway. He went out for breakfast for 6 hours with work friends. Next time he does that he better call.) Why did I feel fortunate? Because, I knew that God wants what's best for me. Here's one of my favorite verses in the whole Bible.
"This is what God requires: to do what is right, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God." Micah 6:8

I wandered through the orchard way
In the morning part of day.
And there beside the deep ravine
Apples grew on branches green.

I pondered of what there was to come
In autumn, with apples high as a drum.
And thought who'd miss one apple sweet.
So on went marching my two feet.

To pluck one fruit would be a crime.
No matter if the fruit looked fine.
Still, the fruit so green and small
Seemed to beckon to me and call.

I soon gave in and reached up high,
And plucked an apple from the sky.
And as the sap dripped down my chin
My face did slowly lose its grin.

Here's the tale my face expressed,
It was a taste I've come to detest.
Sour and tart, I remember it still.
To steal fruit again, I never will.