Serving Proudly As The Voice Of Valley County Since 1913

The Promise of Hope

Life can change in the blink of an eye. I sure found that out at 12:50 a.m. on April 29. I had gotten up to find the lotion I use on my hands because they were itching so badly. I reached out to pull the light cord on the ceiling fan and lost my balance. Down I went. A trip to the ER and X-rays revealed I had fractured both the radius and ulna in my right arm. And yes, I am right handed. When you read this I will have had a cast put on my arm. Now on to my column.

Everywhere I look I see the bright green of new grass peppered with the bright yellow of dandelions.

Joseph B. Wirthlin wrote, “we become so used to our surroundings and the people in our own world that we don’t see them. Yet the mention of a single thing will bring back memories of the beauty and abundance that we enjoy.”

For instance, morel mushrooms. Every spring our family would head to the woods to collect mushrooms. So for a few weeks we literally feasted on the mushroooms. Mom would soak them in salt and soda water, rinse them, pat them dry, dip them in seasoned flour and then fry them in butter.

Our first real treat of Spring was dandelion greens. Mom would send me out with a small bucket and a pair of scissors to gather fresh dandelion leaves. Once they were washed and dried she would make a dressing of oil and vinegar and salt and pepper to pour over the leaves. The first of taste of the fresh salad was awesome.

Since the coal mine Dad worked in closed the first of April, he spent many early mornings fishing. If I begged hard enough he would let me go with him. Once the stringer that held nine fish was full, we headed home. Dad would clean the fish while Mom got the seasoned flour ready for them. A skillet full of fresh bullheads and a loaf of home made bread and butter was breakfast.

Throughout the rest of the growing season, we were constantly raiding the garden for the fresh vegetables. It was nothing for us to plant 800 onions. Our garden was a virtual salad bar.

All around us in the spring we see the promise of hope. The leaves on the trees budding out, dandelions, flowers beginning to shoot up from the ground. All are signs of new life. Too often we become imersed in what we call our normal lives - paying bills, keeping appointments, restocking pantry shelves - these become our priorities. We shake our heads and often wonder when will we have time to enjoy life.

Yet it can be so simple, as simple as sitting in a a yard chair at sunrise with a cup of coffee. The only sounds we hear are the sound of the birds chirping and the sound of the grass rustle as a rabbit runs through it as well as the sounds of dogs barking in the distance. All too soon we hear the starting of vehicles starting and the day starts. All too soon we are too involved in our daily calenders to give notice to a bed of bright red tulips against a white house. Another chance missed to enjoy our world.

There is an old saying, there are none so blind as those who will not see. Sometimes I think we have become so materialistic that we fail to see what is before us.

There is the story of a wealthy man who took his young son, who was probabaly 10 or 11 years old, to visit some “poor” farmers. On the way home the man said to his son, “Now can you see how lucky we are, with all we can afford?” The son replied, “I didn’t see poverty, Dad. They aren’t hungry, their clothes are clean and they are happy. So are they really poor or are we the ones who are poor?”

So the next time someone says where is all the good in the world, perhaps we should ask ourselves, have we become blind?

May your week be filled with blessings.

 

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