This is not a recipe. This…this is me salivating over the words by Harper Lee chose to tell her story, “To Kill a Mockingbird.”
We went to see the classic, Academy-award winning movie starring Gregory Peck (1962) last night at the AMC (a Fathom Events deal in conjunction with TCM), and o-my-gosh, it just gets better with time. And seeing it on the big screen was worth every single penny, so much more worth it (for the 50 of us who were there) than the flick the hundreds of people plastered along the hallways and walls behind ropes were awaiting (the latest, and final, Twilight movie), I can guarantee you!
To Kill a Mockingbird is celebrating its’ 50th anniversary. 50 years from now, it will still be a cherished movie.
At least the way it begins in the movie (I have never read the book, shamefully), these are the words that just drew me in. They are so beautifully arresting, picturesque and vivdly striking – I am there, in small-town Alabama in the 1930s.
Maycomb was a tired, old town, even in 1932 when I first knew it.
Somehow it was hotter then.
Men’s stiff collars wilted by 9:00 in the morning.
Ladies bathed before noon, after their 3:00 naps…
and by nightfall were like soft tea cakes…
with frostings of sweat and sweet talcum.
The day was 24 hours long, but it seemed longer.
There was no hurry, for there was nowhere to go…
and nothing to buy; no money to buy it with.
Although Maycomb County had recently been told…
that it had nothing to fear but fear itself.
That summer I was six years old.
The ladies, the talcum, the soft, tea cakes – don’t you just get it? Ohhhhh….this is when I know I cannot write. Love.
Published in 1960. Dear Santa…pretty please (an old copy!)?
I mean – Amy Grant JUST tweeted – like, a couple of hours ago – that she was in Dallas doing a sound check for a big Salvation Army fundraising luncheon.
I did post about the incredible SA yesterday and I promise, I did not know Amy worked with them. Great minds think alike, they say. I thought Stephanie Morgan (with whom I shall travel to Nashville next December to SEE Amy Grant & Vince Gill for their famous Christmas show at The Ryamn, YES-IN PERSON, Lord willing and the creek don’t rise) would cheer me on for supporting the SA, just like Amy Grant does. *smile
Didn’t you love the video I shared with you yesterday? Didn’t it just make wonderful sense about how your donations actually help people getting their lives straight? And you don’t throw away your stuff just like we don’t throw away people and it is a win-win all around? Isn’t that wonderful? If you missed it, watch this really inspiring 30-seconds called “Not Wasted”: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-a9g5FdudYY
But you may as well also see this preach-it-now commercial for the Salvation Army called, “Amazing Grace.” THIS is what your donations do! Chill-bumps, seriously.
Have you started gathering nice things you can live without to donate? Have you???
Please watch this 30-second video for me, will you?
Not wasted.
Not trashed.
Not thrown away.
Not junk.
Saved.
Saved.
Repaired.
And restored.
I am renewed.
When you donate used goods to the Salvation Army, you are giving the greatest gift – a second chance to those who need it most. Donating couldn’t be easier or more urgent. Visit www.SATruck.org for a donation center near you or call 1-800-SA-Truck for free pick-up.
When I saw this on TV a few weeks back, I was so moved at the simple message and by the good work the Salvation Army has long been doing, I went on the lookout for it so I could share it with all of you.
Thrifting is in vogue these days and everyone likes a good deal (which you can find at the Salvation Army stores), but what struck me about this ad was the reminder that when we shop at a Salvation Army, when we donate the things we no longer have need of – we are actually in real life, in real time affecting real lives, helping people who have maybe lost their way, who have been pushed aside.
But you could make a difference. Easy.
How simple would it be, this week, to go around your house (every room and even the garage) and gather up some nice things to donate? It appeals to my sense of not being wasteful, of giving value to something that you no longer use, but which might bless another family. It stops wastefulness and trashing material items – at the same time it is repairing and restoring hearts and lives and families and individuals.
What if just not throwing away things you no longer need somehow helped renew a life, a person?
Thanksgiving and Christmas, times of goodwill toward men (like the Father toward us) are a great time to not just think about doing something, but actually doing it. Save-repair-restore-renew…we can do this. We have more than enough!
NOTE: When I first saw the ad, I couldn’t find it online anywhere, so I went all the way to Deborah Knutson/USW/SArmy, Public and Corporations Director for the Salvation Army USA Western Territory in Long Beach, CA. She sent me to Kathy Lovin USW/SArmy@USW who helps promote the Adult Rehabilitation on Social Media sites. At first, she hadn’t seen the ad, but when it became available on YouTube two months later, she remembered me and sent the link. Very nice! Thank-you, Kathy Lovin! God bless! http://www.salvationarmy.usawest.org
And don’t you dare even try to convince me that you are not soliciting, but merely making me aware of the most important thing I will ever need to know/buy/donate to.
It happened a few months ago. It was a nice day, so my windows were open, but I had a migraine and I had it bad! It was on the couch in as little clothing as is socially acceptable with a cold pack on my head and a fan directed straight at me with my legs up over the arm of the couch.
Some [heretofore bitterly resented] solicitor looking for donations for a fairly [good cause, actually] knocked, then rang the bell, then knocked/pounded again…and again! I tried to just ignore my dog barking like a banchee and hoped the nincompoop would leave and let me get back to tending my head pain.
But he didn’t.
He walked over, looked in my open window (cupping his hands!) and said, “Hey-are you going to come to the door?” Grrr@#&^%$(*^!!!rrrrrrr.
So, I had no choice. I went to the door and peered around the corner, but I shouldn’t have been seen (the lack of appropriate clothing and all) and asked him kindly to excuse me and he. would. not. He kept talking and trying to convince me to give to [a good non-profit]. But I was in no condition. Thanks, no, I said more than once as I was closing the door millimeter by millimeter, at which point he yelled at me, “What kind of a human being is too good to give to our [good cause]???”
That was it. Enough. He had now marred the good name of a good cause and made me want to smack him. I may or may not have threatened to call the police if he did not get off my porch.
Sorry, everybody else: No more steaks out of the back of a truck or fake perfume that “smells just like the real fragrance” but is 1/116 the cost. ENOUGH!
I made a sign.
I found one online and changed it to a standard 5 x 7 size to fit nicely right aboce the door bell just to the left of the front door. Used an old frame and hope to communicate this:
Do not try to sell me a new roof or milk or magazine subscriptions or cleaning products I “can’t get in the store” or religious brochures or doo-dads of any kind. Do not knock or ring my bell or stand on my porch and you sure-as-shooting better not look in my windows. HOWEVER – if you are one of my sweet little neighbor kids with cookies or candy or $27 wrapping paper, come on in. YOU are welcome!
Erma Bombeck (1927-1998) was a 2-times-a-week newspaper columnist and author that was just plain part of my growing up years (the 60s and 70s). I was a newspaper lover/reader/fanatic and she was one of my go-to, gotta-read parts (along with Dear Abby and Ann Landers).
She was wry, witty, warm and insightful and I came across this newspaper clipping and I don’t recall when I might have torn it out of the newspaper, but it was in an Ann Landers column and she has been dead since 2002, so, I have had it awhile. I wanted to share it here. It made me smile…and *sniffle*, too. Because I certainly get it more than I would have when it was first written or even back when I tore it from a Denver Post Ann Landers column. Oh yes, I understand it better now…
If I had My Life to Live Over by Erma Bombeck
If I had my life to live over again, I would have waxed less and listened more.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy and complaining about the shadow over my feet, I’d have cherished every minute of it and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was to be my only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would have sat cross-legged on the lawn with my children and never worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television – and more while watching real life.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would have eaten more ice cream.
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the Earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren’t there for a day.
When my child kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, “Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.”
There would have been more I love yous, more I’m sorrys, more I’m listenings, but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute of it, look at it and really see it…try it on…live it…exhaust it…and never give that minute back until there was nothing left of it.
Baaaaa-waaaahhh, sniffle-sniffle. Omygoodness, get a grip. Thank God it is never too late to live right.
When I was a young girl watching the old “Frances the Talking Mule” movies on Saturday afternoons. I was very interested in being a WAC, like my great Aunt Jenny had been. But I have never served in the armed forces {though I still kinda think I would’ve thrived there). But I have been served. And I am grateful.
Today, I am thanking the men and women who are far away from their families, doing a too-often thankless job, while I am here enjoying mine.
And I’d like to thank the families of the brave who serve us for all they give up – for us all.
And today, I want to remember the multiple thousands who have served and are gone, but who are not forgotten for all they have given and I remember my own family members who have served in so many different branches of the military over the course of time and wars. I am grateful. I thank God for them all. Today I remember.
Sure, she lives in New York city, works for Martha Stewart and has her own TV show and everything. But doesn’t she just seem like some one you could know? I like her style: personable and warm, next-door-neighbor friendly. Simple food. Let’s just hang out in the kitchen and chat and eat stuff!
See what I mean? Like. She shall be my pretend best friend…until Thanksgiving at least!
Who has gotten 8367 phone calls in 2.67 weeks and a 13-foot-high stack of political flyers and had 27.2 people per day ring the doorbell to talk election??? Us. Uh-huh.
It was strangely quiet the other day. I didn’t know why until I left the house and saw Dave had placed this out there for all to see:
No, we’re not bitter. We’re just glad the election is going to be done. And yes, we did vote. Because THAT is what good citizens do. :)
Note to the person who put the $10 off Kohl’s coupon on our door knob, anyway: Kinda glad you can’t read or didn’t bother to read this sign because I am happy to have the $10! What are they paying you for this high-quality work???
The night, darkest, they say, just before dawn, drapes over me in warmth like a heavy old quilt. The lightlessness almost paralyzing, pushing me into deeper slumber.
Then the disintegration of the blackness begins. And in one {breathtaking} moment, like cracking an egg over a bowl, a severing of its’ power for what is to be – there it is. Light. Night is over. Bright.
The darkness of night cannot remain, cannot overcome the morning sun. It just rose in an instant and took its’ regal place ~ one moment longed for, disconsolate, the next, a done deal.
Morning has, indeed broken.
Cat Stevens* really knew.
Arise, shine;
For your light has come!
And the glory of the Lord is risen upon you.
For behold, the darkness shall cover the earth,
And deep darkness the people;
But the Lord will arise over you,
And His glory will be seen upon you.
The Gentiles shall come to your light,
And kings to the brightness of your rising. Isaiah 60.1-3 NKJV
The night {your night} cannot last forever. Every night will be broken by a day. Every blackness will eventually meet its’ match in a sunrise that will be seen upon you. You will be bright in your rising and you will be where His glory is seen again.
You have my son. You have my two adorable grand-girls, Averi and Amelie and another little Rhoades grandbebe on the way. You have a lovely home and family and sweet spirit and you have my heart. Now have another HAPPY BIRTHDAY, too!!!
I actually started this blog when you and Rocky were just newlyweds and so you are integral to the history, a part of every family story in recent days and a kindly receiver of the old history, which makes me happy.
There is some question: is Amelie picking? Or still asking you to keep Baby-Rhoades a secret???
You’re a good daughter, Jovan. You are attentive to family tradition and the wiles and ways of getting so many {more} sisters when you took Rocky as your husband and ended up in this bright constellation of characters almost as numerous as the stars in the sky! Thank-you, by the way, for your continuing contributions to our bunch. We love them one and all.
I, Jovan, take, thee, Rocky…and your mom and dad and Tara and her family, and Stephanie and hers. And I take Tredessa and commit to helping her find a husband, too (since you and I are jumping the birth order for marriage – it is my reasonable service). And I take Stormie and all that will someday be of her. And add you all to my big, Italian family. Amen.
So for your birthday this year, I have gone back to see what I have had to say about you for all these years. And here is some of what I say {and believe} about you, Birthday-Girl:
I made you a “card” to try to capture some words that would express how much I love you. I always run out of space, because the words come easy.
You turned 25 and here is what I said,
“On an All Hallow’d Eve’ so long ago, a day usually draped in black and night, a light was born. Twenty-five years ago today, to be exact, a reflector of the love of Jesus Christ was born and the world can never again be as dark as it once was. Shine on, sweet girl, godly woman, and gift-of-a-daughter you are.”
And I just remembered: it was the first time I ever put words on a photo. I was obviously quite timid about it in 2010, but a year later – not so much. Haha.
This is the year I sang you the song that I used to sing to Rocky and his little sisters about praying for the love of their lives even when they were just little-bitty babies in my arms. And I wrote a list of 23 things for your 23rd birthday.
Here are numbers 11 & 12, but I also still really like #3, #6 and #22, as I have seen God totally do these things in you!
My wish for you is to find your own beat and to be unapologetic about marching to it.
Jovan, I hope you will understand that you were called to us and will never be afraid to change us and impact us. That is why you’re here
Read the comments, too. Grandma Moslander left a sweet one. Lots of good ones!
And God answers prayer. The proof is in re-reading these and knowing He has been sooooooo faithful!
Fearlessness in the battle. There is an enemy, Jovan. He will fight you for your family. But to be forewarned is to be for-armed. God looked through all eternity and knew He could trust you for this job. You are gentle, yes. You are careful not to run over people’s toes. But I also see the warrior spirit in you – absolutely aware at every turn where the battle lines are drawn. I pray for God to be your shield of protection and your deliverer. I pray He will give you the needed courage at the right times and that you will have no fear – because you are not alone!
The joy of the Lord for the strength you need. I am praying for an outpouring of an abundance of clear, sparkling, life-giving rain to wash over your heart and mind. I pray you will be known as one who laughs right our loud in the face of danger! I pray that you will have everything Jesus promised in the area of joy: complete joy, and a full measure of His joy. I pray you get so much joy – it will splash on everyone else! (Ps 28.7; Ps 4.7; Jn 18.11; Jn 16.24; Jn 17.13)
From the mother-in-law’s perspective, the first year I began writing birthday tributes to my children and theirs.
She is an impressive girl, or I guess I should say “woman.” She is just so pretty and has the most exotic eyes (eyelash length: 1.769 inches long).
AND this was year you were pregnant with Averi and I made you a Barbie-doll cake because she had always wanted one. I still get emails from all over the world about that cake and people wondering how to re-create it. :)
Yep, it is official. I want you to have a happy-happy-happy birthday every single year.
Love you bunches. Grateful for your prayers and love. Love watching you be all you were born to be. Happy birthday, sweet girl! LOVE, mom! xxoo
