My 5 year old teaching the dog to obey

There my youngen stood with her back to me, a ways out in the front yard, not knowing I was just down the hill watchin her...she was focused on the neighbors dog that always visits her...and she was swatting it on the flank because it just wasn't doing what she was commanding it, she was trying to encourage it.."C'mon come here" and then coming back to swat it (pretty gingerly for the reader concerned with that "swatting" bit.)

Aint that something. I can't get her to close the door or pick up her stuff, but SHES gonna swat that dog into doing something she commands. ROFL...maybe she'll have better luck getting her charge to comply than I do.

I wonder sometimes if thats not how God feels on occasion, overlooking His "creatures".

TIME TO GO, AGAIN

WOW...time has passed too quickly as usual. I've heard it said that Charles Frances Adams, a 19th century diplomat, wrote in his diary one day, “Took my boy fishing today. A wasted day.” His son, Brook Adams, wrote in his diary the same day, “Went fishing today with my father. Greatest day of my life.” Thursday I listened to my little Grace Kelly, who will be rounding the corner to that 6th birthday later this year...she wanted to go with me to see where I planned on putting a goat to work cleaning up down the hill from the pond.

Once there, looking at the pond, she decidedly and definitely wanted to go fishing. We trudged (well, I'm the old tired one that "trudged"...she seemed more "to glide") back up to the house, grabbed the fishing pole bucket (containing her rod and reel and mine and some tackle) and back to the pond. It was AMAZING. Her line already had artificial bait on it, she walked right down to the water edge and cast that thing out there a good 15 yards or more and begin working it back in. This went on for probably near an hour,...never once asking for assistance. I put a short padded stool behind her, she thanked me without being distracted, and sat on it, keeping her eye on the line.

She finally decided the fish just weren't biting so she reeled it in and stuck the pole back in the bucket and was ready to head for the house. I was amazed, it was like fishing with an adult.
Even though she had been running a low fever that morning, and had a croupy cough from time to time...she kept at full functioning till we got back to the house. I kicked back in my recliner and she promptly found a comfortable spot in my lap and we just rested peacefully for quite awhile before we got visiting so actively about something or another that any chance of sleep was gone.

Then Friday was busy with must-do errands and zap, the time off was gone. I just can't see that time Thursday as "a wasted day"...it was priceless. (Now SHE might have put "went fishing with my dad, a wasted day."...Ha, ya just never know...but as for me, it was a great time).

Some of the greatest moments in life come from giving of our time or self with focus on something someone else needs. I remember one 5-year old boy that understood giving...the story was told by a hospital volunteer....

The volunteer said she got to know a little girl, a patient named Liz, who was suffering from a rare and serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother. He had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the disease.

The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. The boy hesitated for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, “Yes, I’ll do it, if it will save her.”

As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale, and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, “Will I start to die right away?”

Being young, the boy had misunderstood the doctor. He understood it to mean he was going to need to give his sister his blood , (All of it). "Yes, I'll do it, if it will save her".

It seems that "giving" ...whether its our time or even our blood...is a natural part of loving. Its not the "things" we buy and give that make life rich...its the giving, its the love.

The other day after battling thru traffic in Washington DC and Baltimore, and was headed into even more congested New Jersey turnpike...a van pulled up beside me and a smiling pretty faced young lady looked at me and held up a simple typing paper size home made sign that said only "DON'T WORRY, BE HAPPY" ...ahhh, It sure touched my heart, lifted my thoughts from task to smiling. Little things people do...little things I can do....little things you can do.

I'll close out and finish getting ready to go leaving you with just one more example that I read about in somebody else's life....

In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less,
a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and
sat at a table.

A waitress put a glass of water in
front of him."How much is an ice cream sundae?" he asked.

"Fifty cents," replied the waitress.

The little boy pulled is hand out of his pocket and
studied the coins in it.

"Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?" he inquired.

By now other people had come in and were waiting for a table and the
waitress was growing impatient. "Thirty-five cents," she brusquely replied.

The little boy again counted his coins. "I'll have the plain ice cream," he said.

The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on
the table and walked away.

The boy finished the ice-cream, paid the cashier and left.

When the waitress had started clearing the table , she picked up the empty dish, and began to cry... There, placed neatly beside the empty dish,
were two nickels and five pennies..

In counting out what he was going to be able to buy himself, he made sure he had enough left to leave the lady a tip.

‘Ach, I Dunno!’

I’m simply surrounded by lovers,
Since Da made his fortune in land;
They’re comin’ in crowds like the plovers
To ax for me hand.
There’s clerks and policemen and teachers,
Some sandy, some black as a crow;
Ma says ye get used to the creatures,
But, ach, I dunno!

The convent is in a commotion
To think of me taking a spouse,
And they wonder I hadn’t the notion
Of taking the vows.
‘Tis a beautiful life and a quiet,
And keeps ye from going below,
As a girl I thought I might try it,
But, ach, I dunno!

I’ve none but meself to look after,
An’ marriage it fills me with fears,
I think I’d have less of the laughter
And more of the tears.
I’ll not be a slave like me mother,
With six of us all in a row,
Even one little baby’s a bother,
But, ach, I dunno!

There’s a lad that has taken me fancy,
I know he’s a bit of a limb,
And though marriage is terrible chancy,
I’d -- chance it with him.
He’s coming to-night -- oh -- I tingle,
From the top of me head to me toe,
I’ll tell him I’d rather live single,
But, ach, I dunno!


A good old Irish song by Percy French (1854-1920)

These two posts conclude my "poetry selection" for awhile but these are a couple of writings I enjoy.

The Drunkard's Child

He stood beside his dying child,
With a dim and bloodshot eye;
They'd won him from the haunts of vice
To see his first-born die.
He came with a slow and staggering tread,
A vague, unmeaning stare,
And, reeling, clasped the clammy hand,
So deathly pale and fair.

In a dark and gloomy chamber,
Life ebbing fast away,
On a coarse and wretched pallet,
The dying sufferer lay:
A smile of recognition
Lit up the glazing eye;
"I'm very glad," it seemed to say,
"You've come to see me die."

That smile reached to his callous heart,
It sealed fountains stirred;
He tried to speak, but on his lips
Faltered and died each word.
And burning tears like rain
Poured down his bloated face,
Where guilt, remorse and shame
Had scathed, and left their trace.

"My father!" said the dying child,
(His voice was faint and low,)
"Oh! clasp me closely to your heart,
And kiss me ere I go.
Bright angels beckon me away,
To the holy city fair --
Oh! tell me, Father, ere I go,
Say, will you meet me there?"

He clasped him to his throbbing heart,
"I will! I will!" he said;
His pleading ceased -- the father held
His first-born and his dead!
The marble brow, with golden curls,
Lay lifeless on his breast;
Like sunbeams on the distant clouds
Which line the gorgeous west.


Original text: Frances Ellen Watkins, Poems on Miscellaneous Subjects (Boston: J. B. Yerrinton, 1854)


Click and save the RPO LINK to have a really handy place to find poems.