Throwback Thursday: Another Little Girl

 "I'm ready for the New Year. Are you?"
That's my caption. What's yours? Feel free to leave your caption in the comments below.

Memory Monday: The New Year Poem

My grandfather during the Civil War

THE NEW YEAR

As some of you know, I “reprint” a historical magazine dated 1865. It is filled with chapters of books, articles, and recipes from that time period.

Last month while I was researching for my magazine, I found a poem in The Family Christian Almanac from 1864. My grandfather was a soldier during the Civil War (1862-65), and I wonder if his first wife (my grandmother was his second wife—she was born in 1862) sent him this poem while he as far away from her. Maybe she read this poem to their children.

I would like to share it with you as the New Year begins.

THE NEW YEAR

I know not what shall befall me,

God hangs a mist o'er my eyes;

For each step in my onward path

He makes new scenes to rise,
And every joy he sends me

Comes as a sweet surprise.

I see not a step before me,

As I tread on another year,

But the past is still in God's keeping,

The future his mercy shall clear,
And what looks dark in the distance

May brighten as I draw near.

For perhaps the dreaded future

Has less bitter than I think;
The Lord may sweeten the waters

Before I stoop to drink;

Or if Marah must be Marah,

He will stand beside its brink.

It may be he has, waiting

For the coming of my feet,

Some gift of such rare value,

Some joy so strangely sweet,

That my lips shall only tremble

With the thanks they cannot speak.

Oh, restful, blissful ignorance!

'T is blessed not to know;

It keeps me still in those arms

Which will not let me go,

And hushes my soul to rest

In the bosom that loved me so!

So I go on—not knowing;

I would not, if I might,

Rather walking with God in the dark

Than going alone in the light;
Rather walking with Christ by faith

Than walking alone by sight.

My heart shrinks back from trials

Which the future may disclose,

Yet I never had a sorrow

But what the dear Lord chose;

So I send the coming tears back

With the whispered word—"He knows."

I don’t know who wrote this poem, but I really like it. I hope you will also.

Throwback Thursday: Child in the Snow

"Oh, my goodness! I think I see Santa Claus coming!"

That's my caption, what's yours? Feel free to leave your caption in the comments below! Merry Christmas!

Memory Monday: Christmas Traditions in Our Family

My daughter and me (on her second Christmas)

CHRISTMAS TRADITIONS IN OUR FAMILY

Through the years, there have been lots of different traditions involving Christmas. With my husband’s family, they always had a big Christmas Eve party get-together. It would go something like this—my husband (as a little boy) had to get all dressed up and then wait until his grandfather finished his job at the grocery store, cleaned up (in a suit, no less), and came over with my husband’s grandmother. Then my husband had to wait (oh, so patiently, I’m sure) while his grandfather ate supper. Next, there were the family pictures to be taken—you know where each person has his or her picture taken, then there are the couples, then the couples with their children, then the grandparents with their grandchildren, and on and on. When that was done, the presents were distributed, usually by the grandchildren, and everyone sat around the room, and one by one each person opened a present. Once everyone had a turn, they repeated until all the presents were opened. Then they played 42 (a domino game) while eating candy and drinking eggnog. The next morning, they would find a new present under the tree. It was from Santa.

In my family it was a little different. On Christmas Eve when we were little, I remember us practicing how we would wake each other up, then run to the living room where the tree was. Early the next morning, we would gather around the tree—when Mother and Daddy finally got up. Once the word was given, we all dived under the tree trying to find our presents, then we would rip them open. Lots of laughing and yelling.

One of the best things about having these traditions, when my husband and I married we didn’t have to alternate families from year to year (by the way, our parents lived in the same town) since they opened presents at different times.

Through the years, my husband and our children have held onto some of those traditions and changed others. Both sets of our parents are gone and our children meet out our house (in jeans and tees, no posed pictures taken) on Christmas Eve for Snack Supper (with eggnog, of course) and games—this tradition we all love and plan to carry on for years to come. But there is one tradition that will change starting this year. Ever since our daughter married, they have slept our house so we could all wake up on Christmas morning and open presents (one person at a time). This year, we will open presents on Christmas Eve and everyone will go back to their home to sleep (my daughter and her husband now live about eight minutes away and my son lives about ten minutes). They will return Christmas morning to get their filled stockings and open the Santa presents, then eat Christmas dinner (it is always roast with all the trimming).

Oh, one more tradition that we still keep. My mother always bought a box of chocolate-covered cherries for each person, wrapped them, and put them under the tree. Mother has been gone for ten years now, but everyone knows that there will be a box of chocolate-covered cherries with his or her name (but no giver’s name, but we all know who they should be from) under the tree—and we all open them at the same time. When I’m old and gray, I will have one of my children promise that he or she will carry on this tradition—a nice link to the past.

What traditions has your family shared in? Which ones have you dropped? Which one do you still keep?

Throwback Thursday: Horse and Carriage

Woman: I can’t believe you brought me to a one-horse town and this is the horse.

That's my caption, what's yours? Feel free to leave it in the comments below.

Memory Monday: The Bookcase and What's On It Now!

My daughter (years ago) and the bookcase my mother made 

THE BOOKCASE AND WHAT’S ON IT NOW!!!

A long time ago, my mother built a bookcase to hold all my father’s books. As we moved from town to town, it always went with us. I don’t ever remember it not being in my parents’ house. After Daddy died, Mother moved to the same town in which I lived, and she brought it with her.

After she passed away, several years ago, my husband took the book case apart and stored the wood in our garage. After I started writing (and collecting so-o-o-o many books), he took part of the wood and made me shelves above my computer.

The bookshelves my husband built

 And now I have to cull out some of the books because I have something new to put on those shelves—MY BOOKS!!!

Don’t my girls look pretty? And don’t you think they will look good sitting on my shelves?

If you like inspirational historical romance, I invite you to get the first one (it’s free as an e-book), and lose yourself in a time 150 years ago in the Colorado Territory. Then I hope you'll get them all. Happy reading.

Throwback Thursday: Little Girl

What do you mean naughty or nice? Can’t I be both?

There's my caption; what's yours? Feel free to leave your caption in the comments below.

Memory Monday: Memories of My Father-in-Law

My father-in-law and his mother Vera

MEMORIES OF MY FATHER-IN-LAW

Because so much of family history is lost when just one person dies, I wanted to try and save as much as possible of ours. About a year after our son was born in the mid-80s, we bought a camcorder, and I started interviewing family members. (Unfortunately my father and my mother-in-law had passed away by then, so I will never be able to record their personal histories and stories). The first person I interviewed was my father-in-law. In recalling stories, he repeated how his mother one day was out in the field hoeing cotton, when her young beau came by. It was very uncomely for a young lady of that day to be see bare-footed (which she was at the time), so she quickly dug two holes in the ground, stepped into them and covered her feet with dirt. She could then properly greet her young man.

My father-in-law, also, told a story about his father. “One day, Dad and I were sitting at the table while Mom was fixing supper. Dad noticed that the punched-out S and P lids on the salt and pepper shakers had been switched when they had been refilled. So, Dad carefully poured out the salt into one pile on the table and the poured out the pepper into another pile. He then scraped the salt into the container that had held the pepper and then he put the pepper into the other shaker. After replacing the caps on both shakers, he sat back in his chair with a smile of satisfaction on his face for a job well done. I was just a little kid, but as I looked at the salt and pepper shakers and then at my dad, I asked him, “Why didn’t you just change the tops?” Laughing now, my father-in-law said that his dad just sat there looking stunned.

If possible, try and record or write down your memories and stories that you were told growing up. They will make a great bridge from the past generations to the future.

Throwback Thursday: Three Adults

Here's my caption:

Younger woman: Now dear, I know I should have told you Mother is going to move in with us before we got married.

That's my caption, what's yours? Feel free to leave your caption in the comments below.