My Sheep Hear My Voice

This past Monday, my friend Bettie took me to visit her cousin and his wife down in Raphine.  I had been wanting to go there so much, and I finally had the chance.  Pat and Suzy have a sheep farm.  When we arrived, my breath was taken away by the beauty of the rolling hills, their big old farm house, her clothesline with the wash hung out, and the sheep.

It was so much fun to watch the babies running to their mamas when they heard their bleats.  After walking around some, we sat out on the porch overlooking the meadow where the sheep were, and it was just so peaceful.  I told Suzy that if I lived there, I'd probably never leave.

After a while, we went in, had a little dessert, and then went out to the barn where there were some orphan lambs being held in a pen and being bottle fed and getting other food until they're ready to go out into the field.  As we walk out toward the barn, and the sheep heard Suzy's voice, they began to call for her.  They knew their mama was coming!

We stopped and looked at the babies for a while, but there was still one little lamb crying for Suzy.  That baby was in another section.  Suzy went over and picked him up and brought him for us to see.  What a cutie!

While we were sitting on the porch, enjoying the gentle breeze and taking in all the sights and sounds around us, I could not help think of young David, as he took care of the sheep.  Probably the most familiar Psalm is his, Psalm 23...The Lord is my shepherd.  I shall not want.   Beautiful choral music has been written with this psalm as the theme.  Choruses has been written using the same theme.

Jesus said, "I am the good shepherd."  He said, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.  And I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of My hand.:

Florida in February

I don't want to call myself a "snowbird" since I am a native Floridian, but I guess in reality I have become one.  I can certainly understand why people flee the frozen north for the wonderful winter weather in Florida.  Blue skies, gentle breezes, and mild temperatures are great.  The beginning of spring training season is in the air.  Games will be beginning on the 23rd of the month. 

I have been enjoying seeing old friends and making some new ones.  I have been attending the church that I attended from the time I was four.  There have been lots of changes  over the years, but one thing has remained constant.  The church is very mission minded for fields overseas and right in the neighborhood.  A young pastor has taken the reins, and he is loved by all.

Today after I took all my tax stuff to my accountant, I drove out to DeSoto Memorial and walked around.  I wandered over to where a couple was seated, and the gentleman struck up a conversation.  They invited me to sit down on the bench with them.  As we talked, he told me that he had moved to Bradenton in 1980 and had a cabinet business.  He then went on to say that he was a one-man business.  I started asking him if he knew certain people.  He did.  Then I asked him if he knew Don Whitcomb.  Don was a one-man business, as well.  He did, indeed, know Don.  We spent quite a bit of time talking about different customers that they both had had over the years.  I must say that made my day.

January 23

When I woke up this morning, I had not thought about the date.  Somehow, when one is retired, the date is not very important.  However, on the television the announcer said that it was January 23.  My mind immediately went back to January 23, 1964.   I awoke that morning and  got ready to go to school when my telephone rang.  It was my pastor from my church in Florida, calling to tell me that my daddy had died of a heart attack during the night.  Heartbroken, I boarded a plane and traveled to Florida to be with my mother and grieve with her over our loss.

My daddy was only 55.  As a twenty-two year old, fifty-five seemed "old."  When I arrived at that age, I realized it wasn't old at all.  My daddy had had a heart attack ten years prior to that when I was in the eighth grade, but he had recovered and had continued to work hard.

My daddy was born in Adel, Georgia and then lived in Trilby, Florida.  He met my mother in Lacoochee.  They married in 1933.   He worked at the Cummer lumber mill in Lacoochee, and then in 1945 when World War II was over, we moved to Bradenton where I grew up.

I was daddy's girl, and I loved him so much.  He thought I could do not wrong, nor I him.  Years later, I found myself missing him in a new way.  I would go into a restaurant or any place and see adult children with their parents enjoying their time together, and I realized that I was missing not having known my daddy in that relationship.  He will always be "my daddy."  I miss him today.

The photo below is the last picture I have of him, along with my mother at my university graduation.

Seeing old friends

First of all, I didn't realize that it had been so long since I had posted here.  I do miss blogging, and I miss the friends that I have lost contact with. 

This past week I took a road trip to western North Carolina to visit friends from my distant past.  I started out by visiting Sharon, a friend I sort of grew up with, except she is a lot younger than I am.  Her mom was like a second mom to me, and I spent a lot of time at their house.  She moved to North Carolina a few years ago after her daughter had moved there.  Her brother Glenn was already there, and not too long after, her mom joined them.

We enjoyed talking about "old times."  Sharon lives out in the country.  They have chickens, a garden, quite a bit of acreage, and a lovely back porch with hummingbird feeders.  I enjoyed sitting in the rocking chair watching the birds coming for food. 

The next day I left and drove to Morganton to visit Don and Peg Windmiller, my former pastor and his wife from Bradenton.  They have retired and moved to North Carolina to be in the mountains.  They are not quite in the mountains, but when you drive up to their house, you feel like you are there.  Sitting on the porch you can see them since they are not far away. 

We had a good visit.  On Tuesday, Peg and I drove over to Black Mountain, where Don and Peg's son, Dan works at Black Mountain Children's Home.  What a wonderful place!  It was good to meet Dan's two little girls and his wife Elise.

On Wednesday  I left and drove up to Boone to see Mary Jane Uttley, one of my dear friends from Haiti days.  She was up visiting David, her son.  David was one of my students in Haiti when I taught down there in the early '70's.  David works now for Samaritan's Purse, as does his wife , Cindy.

While there I had the opportunity to visit Samaritan's Purse an learn more of their work  As the group was gathering for a tour of the facility, we were seated around a table, and the tour leader asked us to introduce ourselves.  When we got to the last two couples, the lady introduced herself and her husband, and then introduced the other couple.  She said, "And this is our friend, Damaris Carbaugh, and her husband.  You may know her from the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir."  My heart took a leap.  Our choir at Bethel sang many of their songs, and her songs were among my favorites.  That was certainly a highlight.  After the tour was over, I had the opportunity to talk to her some...such a joy.  If you click on her name, you can hear one of her songs.  Be blessed.

Happy birthday, Sarah!

The earth has made another revolution around the sun, and it is time to wish Sarah a happy birthday.  I've thought a lot about this one.  She has the distinction of being born on inauguration day.  The day Sarah entered the world was the day Jimmy Carter was inaugurated.  It was a cold day in Florida, in fact, it was a very cold winter that year.  I had to be in bed for much of the month before her birth, and one morning when I got up, the house was so cold.  I checked the thermostat.  I don't remember how cold it was, but the city was doing rolling blackouts because of the heavy load on power usage.  School was closed for a couple of days because it was too difficult to try to heat the buildings.  This morning, one of the weather men from Tampa posted a picture of the snow in Tampa on January 19.  On Thursday morning, the 20th, as Don and I drove to the hospital, the temperature on the bank said 26.  Yes, it was cold.

Sarah has grown into a wonderful young woman.  She is such a hard worker (like her dad.)  She is kind and caring, a great mom to her two cats, a doting aunt to Ella,  a good sister to David, and I consider her my best friend.  She does so much for me.  I think what strikes me the most is her heart for God.

I wish for Sarah a wonderful year ahead that God will continue to guide her and lead her in the path that she should go.

Not adieu, but au revoir

When I last posted, I ended it with "adieu."  When the members of the von Trapp family were singing their farewell song prior to leaving Austria, they sang "adieu, adieu to you and you and you."  They knew that they were not returning once they left the festival that evening.  When I went to Florida for the reunion of the school staff, I certainly did not go with the thought that I would never see any of my friends there again.

I flew down to Florida on Thursday prior to the celebration on Saturday. My friend, Lorette, has a lovely home and welcomed me to stay there.  It was so relaxing.  On Friday I spent some time with my father-in-law and enjoyed dinner with him and his lady friend that evening.  Earlier in the day I had lunch with Janice, my roommate from my trip to the Canadian Rockies last year about this time.

Saturday was the day of the reunion.  Around 150 people came...former teachers, aides, principals, office staff, custodial staff, lunchroom staff, and former students.  There were a few there who are actually older than I am.  Can you believe it!  The committee who organized the party had photos from different eras of the school displayed around the room.  It was fun to look through old yearbooks that were there.

Barbie and Skipper...grown a little older

Ana, on the left, was one of my aides when I had the ESOL children.  She had been a teacher in Mexico, but there was so much red tape involved to get her credentials here that she worked as an aide.  She is teaching now, though.  She was wonderful to work with in my classroom and added so much to our day.

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Sue Gore and her husband, Wendell.  Sue and I taught together for many years at Orange Ridge.

I was standing looking at pictures when this young lady said to me, "You were my teacher in first grade in 1991."  I was so glad she was wearing a name tag.  When she told me here first name and I saw her last name, I remembered her.  She's 31 now and is a buyer for a company out of St. Petersburg.

Jeanette Kelly, one of the best fifth grade teachers we had and one of the best singers around.  

Miss Viola was the cashier in the lunch line who always greeted the children and staff with a sweet smile whenever we came through the lunch line.

Fran Padgett, on the left, started out as principal of the Bullock school.  She later became principal of the combined Orange Ridge Bullock school.  It was she who got the reunion started. Behind her is my friend, Lorette.  We worked together with the ESOL children for four years until I retired, and she continued on for a while after that until she retired.  On the right is Rick, our music teacher.  We loved Friday afternoons because Rick had a singalong for the primary grades.  It was a perfect way to end our week.

Sharon, the lady on the right, used to come to my classroom to volunteer when her children attended our school.  She told her daughter that I showed her how to turn on a computer.  She later became a secretary at our school.

Orange Ridge Bullock School
1958-2016

Farewell...Part 3

When I started to write these posts, I intended to write memories about the school.  Instead, I wrote more about my own personal experiences. To those reading this, who are not former or current employees at Orange Ridge Bullock School, the school is being closed after being open since 1958.  Children are being placed in schools around the county, as are members of the staff.  This Saturday there is to be a gathering of those who worked at the school over the years in one capacity or another.  Because I had just been in Florida for a week, I had thought I would not return, but I really wanted to be there, so I'm going.  I look forward to seeing Barbie and Skipper again.  Yes, they taught at our school.  Some of you will know to whom I am referring.

Looking back over the years, there are some times that one would probably like to do over again or wipe out completely, but hopefully learn from.  Some of us who worked there stayed for many, many years.  Others stayed for a while and then moved on.  We used to say that if anyone wanted to be a principal in the county, he or she must, first of all, have taught at ORB.  

We were a family.  We celebrated babies being born.  We mourned with those who lost a child, a spouse or a parent.  We laughed and cried together.  And, like a family, sometimes we disagreed with each other or got really mad.

I'm so happy this reunion is taking place, to give everyone a chance to see each other one last time in the setting where we spent so much of our adult lives.  Adieu.

So long, farewell....Part 2

I was talking with a teacher at church today, and I was telling her about the school closing and the get-together that was planned.  We were talking about the funny things that kids say and how we should have written them down.  Back in the day when we had readers with controlled vocabulary, the characters in the pre-primers were Bill, Jill, and Lad the dog.  One day, during reading group we were going over a workbook page that had a picture of children at the park.  There were four sentences to choose from that fit the picture.  When I called on one boy for his answer, he said, "Lad is at the park."  Lad was nowhere to be seen in the picture.  When I said the Lad was not in the picture, the boy said, "He's hiding."  I had to think about the one.

I taught third grade for a year when the enrollment for the grade increased.  I really did enjoy that year.  I had taught third grade when I started teaching and always enjoyed how the personalities of those children really began to emerge.  One day in class, I had the children doing some dictionary work at their seats while I worked with a group.  The room was so quiet as the children were working when one boy with his eyes open wide, excitedly, or embarrassed, said, "Mrs. Whitcomb, I found do-do in the dictionary."  What he had seen was dodo.  Some things you just don't forget.

For a while, off and on, I found that after lunch, back in the room when I was reading a story to the children, I found that I was having difficulty pronouncing certain words.  I didn't think too much about it.  I always drank my tea with lots of ice in it.  I figured that perhaps my tongue was just a little numb from all the ice. To make a long story short, I began to have more symptoms and was diagnosed with myasthenia gravis.  I sought treatment, had some surgery, and ended up on various medications.  I felt like I was on a roller coaster for the next four or five years.

Some major construction took place on campus.  The original classrooms were remodeled, and a new wing was added.  In 1995 the construction was finished, and we were able to move into our new or renovated classrooms.  I was fortunate to have one of the new rooms.  Our school was one of the first to have technology in place.  As  technology advanced so fast, we were soon behind times, but we were first!  I often told friends, who were afraid of touching a computer, that there was no need to be afraid of a computer.  If a first grader could turn it on, navigate the desktop, and then shut it down properly, they they could too.

The last four years of my time at Orange Ridge were spent with ESOL children.  I cannot think of a better way to have spent this time.  Most of these children were Mexican, and there were some Haitian children in the class.  Our goal was to have these children learn English well enough to be able to function well in a regular classroom.  We never had to wonder whether the parents would be present for parent-teacher conferences.  I was so thankful for the aides who spoke Spanish so that they could interpret when needed.

In the first ESOL class that I had, there was a young boy named Juan.  During National Education week we were talking about the importance of an education, and I asked the children if they knew why an education was important.  Juan raised his hand and said that his father said he wanted him to get a good education so that he wouldn't have to look for food to eat in the garbage heat as he had done in Mexico.

I recently saw a former first grader from the ESOL class.  She is Cambodian.  I was so glad to see her.  I asked her how old she is now and what she is doing.  She's twenty-six, working in an oncologist's lab or office.  She then said she's getting her Master's degree and plans to continue studying.  She added that her two younger brothers are getting their B.S. and Associate of Arts degree this year.  Their mother deserves so much credit for seeing to it that her children have achieved so much.

At the end of those four years, I took advantage of an early retirement offer and stopped teaching in 1999.

End of part 2...I'm going to do one more short post, with some odds and ends of incidents over the years.

So long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye (Part 1)

It all started out forty-three years ago.  I had returned to Florida from teaching in Haiti in 1972.  I spent some time visiting friends and churches who had supported me during my time in Haiti, and then I traveled to France for an intense course in French in order to return to Haiti and continue working there.  Before I left for Europe, I had met Don, and we corresponded all the time while I was in France, and we ended up marrying that spring.  Settling in Bradenton, I looked for a teaching position and was hired to teach first grade at Orange Ridge Elementary School.y  I had been teaching junior high students in Haiti, so moving down to first grade was quite an adjustment.

Back in the day, we had no air conditioning in our school.  We had fans that sounded like airplane engines when they were running.  There were no screens on our windows, so in the afternoon, when the children came in from recess, they were sweaty and sandy, and gnats became part of our classroom setting.  I thought that if we could just get air conditioning, all would be well.

During those early years that I taught there, we had children come to our school from Cambodia and Vietnam.  These children were so dear.  One year I was given two brothers who were older than first grade age.  Since they did not know English, the other children were eager to help them learn English.  They brought so much joy to our class.

In 1979 while I was on maternity leave with my son, David, it happened.  Air conditioning was installed in our school.  I was one happy person.  No more noisy fans, no more gnats.  Then I began to say, if we just had carpet on the floors to cut down on the noise of children sitting down and pulling their desks in place, instead of scooting their chairs up to the desk.

Our campus was centrally located in the county, and we had a big campus.  There were two separate playgrounds.  We referred to them as the little playground and the big playground.  My classroom was on the end of the wing, and I could look out at the little playground.  I remember one day, looking out and there was a red-tailed hawk in the pine tree.  Another day, when we had had a lot of rain and there was water standing, there was a great blue heron outside my window.

Small animals were always at home in my classroom.  Either a hamster or a gerbil.  The children loved them so much.  One day after the bus riders had left, I let the children take the gerbil out to hold and play with him.  One little boy was holding him, and the gerbil got loose and scooted across the floor.  The little boy said, "Come here, you little b*stard."  I wanted to laugh out loud so much, but I put my head down and stifled the laugh.  I don't know if it was the same gerbil or not, but after a while the animal died.  The children were so sad, and they wanted him to have a proper burial.  So we put him in a small box and went outside and buried him by the room.  At the children's insistence, not mine, we read Psalm 23.

Later on, I had a guinea pig in my class.  The children really loved him.  There was more to hold, and he wasn't as wiggly as a hamster or a gerbil.  On the weekends, I would take him home, and when my husband came home and the gerbil heard him walk in the door, he would whistle and jump all around his cage.  One day, I asked Don to stop by my classroom and hang some strings down from the ceiling (the ceilings were high.)  I said to my aide, "Just watch when Mr. Whitcomb comes into the room, that guinea pig will whistle and jump up and down."  He didn't disappoint.

I once said to one of my friends that I was thinking about getting a snake for my classroom.  My children had for a pre-K teacher at Palma Sola Preschool, who was the daughter of Ross Allen, who was quite the herpetologist.  He worked in his early days at Silver Springs and later on at Sarasota Jungle Gardens.  So snakes and other reptiles were quite commonplace in her classroom.   Boys especially like them.  She let me know in no uncertain terms that if I introduced a snake into my room, she would never again enter my classroom.  And, no, I didn't get a snake.

In 1984, the Bullock school was added to our campus.  This school was for children who were physically and mentally handicapped.  Our campus was centrally located in the county, and with the school there, the children didn't have to travel so far or so long on the buses to get to school.  We teachers in regular ed received quite an education during those first years.  I remember saying to some of the teachers once that I didn't know how they did their jobs, even though there may have been five students in a class with a full-time aide.  They, in turn, said to me that they didn't know how we did what we did with twenty-five students at one time.

The Bullock school had been named for Jo Berta Bullock, a journalism teacher at Manatee High.  She was teaching there before I started high school and was there for some time after until she retired.  She was physically handicapped, dependent on crutches to get around.  After the school was opened, she would visit from time to time.  Even though I had not taken any journalism classes, she knew who I was and always spoke to me whenever she saw me at the school.
(End of part one)

Mother's Day and other stuff

For having said that I was going to blog more, I certainly have not done it.  I love keeping up with people on Facebook, but I find myself passing over a lot of stuff and "unfollowing" pages, especially during these days, and I think you know what I mean.

I drove down to Florida a couple of weeks ago.  I was really wanting to visit with my long-time friends, and I wanted to see one couple before they left for the north for the summer.  I have so many people who question my driving to Florida all by myself.  I've done it during the past nine years since Ella was born, and so I did again this time and didn't feel any worse for the wear.  I spent the week visiting and eating.  On Tuesday the girls from the class of '59 had lunch together.  There were three of us there from out of town, so it was a grand time, catching up with each other's news.

On Thursday morning, I met some ladies for breakfast at Cracker Barrel.  I visited with them, and then another friend came and we ate and chatted for a long time.  While there, I was visiting with a gentleman whom I've known for a while, and sitting opposite us was a girl I had in first grade twenty years ago.  She was in one of my ESOL classes.  Her family was from Cambodia, and her English was limited, so I had the joy of helping her learn English and learn to read.  I asked her what she is doing now, and she told me that she was working in an oncologist's office, that she's working on her master's degree and she plans to go further in her studies.  That makes me smile a lot.

This past weekend, I enjoyed Mother's Day with Sarah and David.  Sarah came over on Saturday to be with Ella for a bit, and then we enjoyed lunch together at a local restaurant.  Yesterday, David cooked lunch for me.  He went online and looked for some Haitian recipes.  He made red beans and rice and Haitian chicken for me.  I did enjoy it so much.

I appreciate so much being close to my children.  Sarah and David both do so much for me.  Of course, it is wonderful being close to Ella and being able to spend time with her almost any time I want.

Maybe it won't be so long before I post again.  When I repost some of my posts on Facebook and read some of the comments that people make, I realize how much I miss hearing from some of them.

Quite a day!

I spent the last two weeks in Florida.  I had planned to go to attend Women of Faith with my good friend, Peg.  I left on the Sunday before Labor Day on the auto-train.  Arriving in Bradenton, I spent a few days with my father-in-law and a few more days with Mary Jane, a friend whose sons I taught in Haiti.  And then I spent a couple of nights with my friends, Don and Elsie.  I got to see a lot of people, got the last bit of stuff out of storage, and then I went to Orlando and went to Women of Faith to attend their farewell tour.  It was a busy two weeks, and while I loved being there, I was glad to come back home.

When I made to decision to move finally from Florida to Virginia, there was no looking back, and I have not regretted at all the move.  I have a lovely home.  I've found a warm, loving church, and I'm getting to know some of the locals, as well as a lovely lady down the street who has moved here to be nearer her grandchildren.  I've had a young woman staying with me since the middle of August.  She is here, interning in our church for a year and working in the community.  We've had a good time together.  I've been "living history" to her...since she's so young, and I'm older.  I will not say "elderly."

The air is beginning to be crisp.  I had to close the back door this afternoon because the air coming in was a bit cool.  I posted a photo of a tree beginning to turn yesterday, and someone said,  "You know what follows fall, don't you."

Anyway, back to today.  I went over to Chick-Fil-A this morning for breakfast, and I saw a poster advertising a senior trip to Sight and Sound for the Christmas program.  I had called a travel agent about a similar trip, and it was all sold out, so I was thrilled to see this and make a reservation to go.  Later, I had a doctor's appointment with an endocrinologist, and I mentioned to her that I had not had my A1C checked since January, and she said that they could do it right there in the office.  It was the lowest that it had been for a while.  That made me SO happy.  The doctor said, "If we could only see more of those..."

While I was there, David called to see if I could pick Ella up after school and take her to get her glasses adjusted.  Of course, he didn't have to ask twice.  I love being close by and being able to help out whenever needed, or just to be with her.  After going to the optician, I took her with me while I had some blood drawn.  While there, a nurse who had worked in her school clinic came into the cubicle and saw Ella.  She was so happy to see her again.  We mentioned a little boy who accompanied Ella to the clinic to get her meds before lunch, and the nurse said, "When you see H., give him a hug for me."  Ella said, "Well, now, that would be awkward."  So then the nurse said, "Well, tell him hello for me."

After David and Ella left, I went to Ruby Tuesday to get my birthday hamburger, and the server said to me, "You're a teacher, aren't you.  Did you get your air fixed?"  It must have been three months since I had seen her.  I told her how much it meant to me to be recognized by someone here.  Those of you who know me well know what I mean by that.  Coming from a town where I lived all my life and knowing so many people to a place where I know so few, her comment to me meant so much.

All the little things that happened today were big things for me.  I know every day won't be like this one, but I'll welcome them.

Look Who's Nine

When I made the move to Virginia and then took an almost month-long trip out west, I thought I would blog a lot about those adventures, but so far I haven't.  But this week is different.  We've been celebrating Ella's ninth birthday.  Those of you who have followed my blog for a long time have been along the journey of this lovely little girl.  

 As she celebrates this year, we are celebrating that new drugs are appearing on the scene that are making a real difference in the lives of those with cystic fibrosis.  Recently a drug was approved that is targeted at Ella's mutation.  While right now, it is only available for those twelve and over, trials are being done in children younger.  We are so thankful that Ella has been very healthy and pray that this continues to be the case.

 The highlight of her day on Sunday was a trip to Build-a-Bear with several of her friends.  When they were done, all returned to Ella's house for a cookout and playing in the yard.  In just a few days, she and her friends will be starting fourth grade.  Can you believe it?  Happy birthday, Ella.

Out and About

Spring is certainly in bloom in the Shenandoah Valley.  During the last couple of weeks, the weather has warmed up and flowers and trees are blooming and beautiful.  This weekend I drove over the mountain to Charlottesville, and all along the side of the highway, the redbud and dogwood are just so pretty.

Waynesboro is the home of P.Buckley Moss.  A prolific artist, she moved to this area in 1964 with her husband and five children.  She grew up in New York city.  When she entered school, she was a poor student, and she was found to be dyslexic.  She then began to study art and found her gift there.  You can read about her early life here.  When she and her family moved to the valley, she found Amish and old order Mennonites living here. (I have referred to these dear people in an earlier post.)
When you look at her art work, you will find that they became the subject of many of her paintings.

She has a gallery in downtown Waynesboro, right next to Stella, Bella, and Lucy's.  After having breakfast the other day, I stepped into the gallery, and as I was looking at the art work and the prints that were for sale, in she walked and we talked for quite a few minutes.  She has had a home in St. Petersburg and a gallery there, but she has recently sold that and moved back here.  As I was looking, I found the print that I just had to have.  She has a couple of prints of a mama manatee and baby.  I bought one.

This weekend she has had a barn show where she greets people and signs works that they have purchased.  I went out early Friday afternoon with my print and got it signed.  Now I'll have to wait a little while before I get it framed.

All the photos that I've posted here are from that signing day.  I took photos of some of the prints.  You will see the glare of lights on some of them.  The best way to see them is to come visit me, and I'll take you and show them to you!

Sing God's Praises

Sunday night was another wonderful experience in my new life here in Virginia.  When I was a girl, all-night gospel sings were popular, and many times we went to hear the gospel quartets sing.  They didn't quite last all night, but they did go on for a long time.  And then, in our town churches used to get together on a fifth Sunday for a hymn sing after church on Sunday night.  I remember how I always loved going to those.

Last night there was an evening sing at one of the local Mennonite churches.  Several churches gathered together to sing and to listen to groups from the different churches.  One of my early memories of Mennonites was that they used no instruments in their churches, and all the singing was a capella.  In some churches, that may still be the case, but last evening there were lots of instruments.

Bluegrass music is popular here.  I don't know if it is because of the part of the country we are in, or just what the reason, but it is popular.  One family sang and accompanied themselves on banjos, guitars, bass fiddles, and I believe I saw a mandolin.

Since it was Palm Sunday, a lot of the music centered around the resurrection.  The group above sang "Were you there when they crucified my Lord?"

The group from our church sang an Easter canon and a number about the price He paid on the cross.

We did do some a capella singing.  At a couple of spots a lady came up with her pitch pipe and led in a couple of songs.  I think that was my favorite part.  When she introduced one of the songs, she said that it was one that "we had all learned in school." When she blew the pitch, you could hear all the parts coming on right on pitch, and then it started.  I loved it!  I love it at church when the accompaniment drops out and all you hear are the voices.

I looked for it on the internet, and I found a video of it being sung by a men's chorus in India.  You have to listen hard to hear all the words, but you certainly can hear all the parts.  I'll be singing it in my head for a while, and I hope our church sings it so that I can learn it better.  Click on the link to watch and listen.

The photos used in this blog were used with permission of Ginny from Let Your Light Shine.

An afternoon at an auction

Earlier in the week, my friends told me about an auction that would be taking place on Thursday afternoon at the home of one of the ladies in the church.  She has sold her home and is moving into a retirement center in the area and had an auction at her house to sell all the "stuff."

The auction was to start at four in the afternoon.  Even though we had arrived a bit early, there were already a lot of cars there, and with them a lot of people who were milling around, looking at all the treasures to be sold.

Do you see the telephone on the table?  I remember my aunt's having one on the wall of her home in Florida many years ago.  I would have loved to have it on my wall, but I resisted.  The bell still worked when you cranked it.  Remember the party lines?

The accordian was another treasure that was there.  Everyone looked at it with interest.  The case was old and worn, like the accordian, but I know it became  someone's special purchase.  Seeing it reminded me of my cousin, Mary Ann, who was a serious accordian player in her day.

Not something that would be useful in Florida, I'm sure someone will know just what to do with these.

Jars, jars, jars.  I can just imagine that these were a hot commodity.  My mother would put these to good use.  When she died, there was a wall of food that she had "put up."

 There were lots of books there, but this one in particular caught my eye.  I would be interested  in reading this one since Mennonites are pacifists, and I wonder what role they played.  Perhaps they were in a support role.  I'll have to find out.

There were quite a few folks from the church there that I'm attending, so it gave me an opportunity to get to know them all a little bit better.  Names, names, names, I'm trying to learn names.  And so far, I'm not doing too badly.

A simpler way of life

On Monday, I went a few miles north of where I am now living to visit the Shenandoah Market. After we had finished looking around there, my friends took me to see some of the surrounding area.  Phil said, "I want to show you a church that is quite unusual."  When he drove up to the church ( and for some reason, I didn't take a photo of the church,) I saw that there were no parking spaces for cars.  The entire area around the church was filled with places to hitch one's horse and buggy

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 This particular church was of the old order of Mennonite.  There are no tire tracks, only the marks of the buggy wheels.  The parking lot, or hitching lot, is very organized.

 There are posts to hitch the horse and a concrete slab at each spot to put the feed for the animals.

Next to the church, as is seen in many areas, is the cemetary for the members who have gone on.  

 On the way back, we stopped by the lake where we saw these lovely swans.

In several yards I saw something that one hardly sees any more.  I remember we always hung our clothes out to dry.  I remember one time my mother got so upset because someone had come along and stolen some of the clothes from the line.  I don't imagine that would happen in a community like this.

In this area of Virginia where I have moved, there are a lot of Mennonites, and there are several different kinds, just like the Baptists and the Presbyterians, and other denominations.  When I got home, I googled "Old Order Mennonites" and found a very interesting article that was published a few years ago in a Virginia magazine.  I think you would find it interesting too.  You can read it here.