By Jean Winter, 2009-09-01
What You Scatter, A lesson of life.
I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas.
I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.
Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.
'Hello Barry, how are you today?'
'H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya.. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure look good.'
'They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?'
'Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time.'
'Good. Anything I can help you with?'
'No, Sir. Jus' admirin' th em peas.'
'Would you like to take some home?' asked Mr. Miller.
'No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with.'
'Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?'
'All I got's my prize marble here.'
'Is that right? Let me see it' said Miller.
'Here 'tis. She's a dandy.'
'I can see that. Hmm mmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?' the store owner asked.
'Not zackley but almost.'
'Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble'. Mr. Miller told the boy.
'Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller.'
Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me..
With a smile she said, 'There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever.
When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store.'
I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado , but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.
Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.
Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket.
Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.
Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.
'Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about.
They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they came to pay their debt.'
'We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world,' she confided, 'but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho ..'
With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.
The Moral : We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath.
IT'S NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT YOU SCATTER THAT TELLS WHAT KIND OF LIFE YOU HAVE LIVED!
By Jean Winter, 2009-11-01
Remembrance Day Poem
By Howard Wilkins
We remember those who fell
In two Great Wars, a living hell.
But tragically all's not done,
Even though those wars were won.
Our servicemen men are still engaged
In wars that are still being staged.
Why will leaders never learn?
It's to peace that they should turn.
On this eleventh day in November
Lest we forget, we will remember
All of those who have fought
And sadly had their lives cut short.
So wear your poppy with all your pride,
If only for those poor souls who died.
Think of those who were so brave
Now are memories in their graves.
Thus on this day as families weep,
Mourning loved ones 'fast asleep',
Take some time to spare a thought,
For all of those who, for us, fought.
Copyright - Howard Wilkins
LEST WE FORGET
By Jean Winter, 2010-03-06
Divine Inspirations Magazine - Page 24 of the March edition, features an interview with Tom Autry . Tom began writing songs in the early 70's. He has a great voice, one of my favourite songs of Toms is "Let's Begin Again".
Previous Issues featured Ken Rich and Rey Perez.
By Jean Winter, 2010-06-02
The original members of the group formed The Sons of Harmony in the summer of 1999 while in drug and alcohol rehabilitation in Baltimore, Md. Most of the current members are not the originals that formed the group, of the four originals only two members remain.
They became known for their Acappella style singing among their peers and consider themselves "Old school" when it comes to their singing style. Which is evident on their "Working on a Building" album. They have performed on stage with The Gospel Keynotes, the Fantastic Violinaires and Lil David & The Bells of Joy to name a few.
By Jean Winter, 2011-06-16
All my life I've felt alone and unloved. I don't even feel that I was ever part of a family. Even as a child being the oldest I had to sort out my own problems. Then when I had my own family I still felt like an outsider.
Thinking back I wonder if that's why I'm like I am today. I find it hard to talk to anyone if I have any problems. I try to hide my feelings and work things out for myself. Sometimes when something really gets to me I explode but even then I'll only let so much out. I just can't let anyone see how much they have hurt me.
I've been told I can't let things go. When I've been hurt in some way no matter how trivial it might seem to that person I can't let it go for a while no matter how I try. Eventually I let it go but it's very rare that I forget.
Sometimes it would be nice to just be held and told that you are loved or that everything is going to work out fine even if there isn't anything wrong. Just to feel loved, wanted and needed. We all need re-assurance from the person we love, even if we are living with them and we lie next to them in bed every night.
They say what you've never had you never miss. I don't feel this is true. Each one of us has a heart. We all need to feel part of a family but most of all each and everyone of us need to feel loved, wanted and needed.
Is there something wrong with me? Or am I right.
Maybe some of this is what lead upto the depressed state I got into a couple of years ago.
I'll try and explain that now:-
Do you ever:-
1. Feel no one cares if you live or die?
2. Hate yourself?
3. Have days where you feel constantly sick and want to lie in bed, just wanting to go to sleep and never wake up again?
4. When you look through a mirror all you see is this over weight ugly witch staring back at you?
5. You can’t face food?
6. Everything you try to do is wrong?
About two years ago I took that one step further. I took an overdose.
I feel this is the right time to talk about this, in the hope that if you’re in same position you know you are not alone. Many before and many after us have and will go through it. To those of you who haven’t hopefully it will give a little insight.
Somehow I got through the first twelve months after my husband passed away, I sorted everything out and then I planned a vacation to go and see my family in England. Maybe that’s what carried me through, I had something to look forward to.
I wanted to come back to Canada, England didn’t feel like home anymore. Then about 5 months after I returned the depression started to set in. I felt no one cared if I lived or died and that no-one loved me. I had all the feelings I’ve listed above and more.
I had it all worked out. My friend had gone to Germany to see her Grandchildren, I’m a private person so my neighbours don’t find it unusual if they don’t see me for days on end. I wouldn’t be found until it was too late.
I woke up three days later. God must have had other plans for me, even though I didn’t realize it at the time.
The next few months were a struggle. I had to fight with myself everyday not to take another overdose. Then I started to lose the fight with myself. I was ready to make another attempt to take my life. This is when God stepped in. I heard a song “Teach Me” – Ken Rich. I wrote to Ken and he told me about his site “Indie Gospel Artists”. Even though I can’t sing a note I’ve always loved music so I joined Indie. In many ways I’ve gone from strength to strength, thanks to Ken’s song and Indie Gospel.
It’s not easy by any means to get over depression. I’m not really sure if it ever goes away completely. I'll probably always have those feelings I listed above. But I do know I have to be strong and fight back, no matter how easy it seems just flip the lid on the pill bottle and end it all. I know now there are people out there who love me and would miss me.
Thank you God for your love and giving me a second chance.
Thank you Ken for “Teach Me” and letting me run riot on Indie.
Thank you Jim for being you, loving me and always being there for me.