All posts by pamelastaley@hotmail.com

Black Patent Shoes

life, , , ,

It was Easter

Just this past weekend

Reason to celebrate in a big way and I still buy chocolate bunnies and this year some gourmet cookies as well.  Years ago, it seems so long

our children, just like most on this continent, went to bed on Easter Sunday Eve in anticipation of what would surely be a tasty Next Morning.  These same children,

these days

are not prone to indulge in sweet treats.  Oh sure, every once in a while, but sugar doesn’t hold the same attraction as it did

then.

Sometimes the meal is over and everyone is on their way when I realize the bunnies and eggs are still where they were when the festivities began.  Granted, we don’t do the traditional

hide and seek

but most often, the table centerpiece consists of the Easter delicacies.

In younger days I remember rolling my eyes when people would make a statement about

“when I was young” or

“When I was your age”.

Ah yes, children in all of their childish wisdom.

I am of course now of a different mind and here we go with

I remember when...

Easter was a big big deal in the House house.  I can assure you it had nothing to do with chocolate although we did get a couple of eggs or bunnies or some form of Easter treat.

Easter was big because of what

it was, is and evermore will be.  Because of it’s significance.

It’s about dying and rising from the dead.  It’s about Love.

We celebrate because of the WHY

The Reason.

At Christmas we talk about the

Reason for the Season.  We don’t so much use that phrase for Easter and yet of course

everything that happens is always about

The Reason.

WHY

Well, at our house, because of who our parents were, celebrating anything was always about the heart of the matter.  Not much was done flippantly or hap hazard like.  Life mattered, matters.

The Reason we are here and live hope filled is crucial to our daily activities, schedule, purpose.

We laughed as much as the next family.  We enjoyed life

to the full

but there was always that underlying sense of

I Live For a Reason and this life is not just for me to use as I choose.

The days I am given are of eternal value.

Well, when a girl is 6 or 8 or 10 or even 12, eternity is not often uppermost in her mind.  For me, there was never a doubt as to the

validity, importance, gift of eternity but right there at the heart of my mind

was the thought of

black patent shoes.

Could there ever be anything more beautiful or exquisite than black patent shoes? Especially if there was every likelihood they would be, forever, just outside the realm of possibility.  To be seen through the store window, but never on my feet.

Shiny, perfect, beautiful.

When I was young

extra dollars were something I read about in Trixie Belden or Donna Parker Books.  Pollyanna was my favourite heroine.

Every September I got a new pair of canvas running shoes and a pair of sensible black leather shoes for school.

Every spring and just before Easter, we made the 50 mile drive to the nearest city where there was a shoe store and I got a new pair of Sunday shoes that would be worn, hopefully, for the first time on Easter Sunday.  The town we lived in had roads without pavement.  It was situated in a province where the winters were long and the summers short.  The spring season was often illusive and more often,

late in arriving.  I remember praying for days, with my eyes on

the new shoes sitting on the floor neatly side by side, just so, waiting for that glorious day when I could put them on and actually wear them

that God would Please melt the snow and make the sun to shine and dry up the muddy roads and Please, Please make it possible to don the new shoes.  Prior to the prayer about the weather conditions,

maybe early March,

I would pray,

kneeling beside my bed of course, because that was the posture God was most likely to be pleased with and so perhaps be more willing to answer int the affirmative when I asked

most fervently that maybe this year the new Easter shoes could be

black patent.

I realized He was the only one who could speak to the hearts of my parents and express His desire that I, disobedient and saucy as I was, should be granted my greatest wish (well, greatest next to that of being provided with a horse to ride after school and on Saturdays). What could be the harm in asking?

It seemed that the manufacturers of children’s shoes had no thought to the desires of children who had feet the length, width and depth of a 6 inch ruler.  My father was always adamant that we wear good quality shoes because as a child he had not.  He had the feet to prove the importance of good shoes and he wanted his children to be spared the discomfort resulting from unsuitable footwear.  As a result, we wore

very sensible shoes.

I still remember the year, I was ten, that somehow, by some miracle, the nice man at the shoe store had, in his back room where they kept the boxes of shoes, a beautiful pair of black patent that made me feel like

Cinderella.

He brought the box out, removed the shoes and gently placed them on my feet.  They fit and I am quite sure the angels were rejoicing in heaven at my answered prayer.

Glory be!  That day, I rode home in the back seat with that box filled with the black patent shoes and it sat on my lap  with the lid off and my hands ran over the shininess of those beauties and the whole way I thanked God for answering my prayer,  after all these years. Finally I had what my heart desired and that heart overflowed with thankfulness.

My mother sewed all of our clothes.

We had no money but we were dressed beautifully.  My mom had a way of finding fabric for a few pennies and sewing it up into loveliness.  THAT Easter, I had a new suit, yes jacket and skirt and black patent shoes to go with it.  I was careful to at least attempt humility, but pride was a tough opponent.  That Easter I sang especially loudly

Up From The Grave He Arose.  I knew it was true and even if my feet had been clad in sensible black shoes instead of those beautiful patent ones, the truth of The Reason for Easter, caused me, a lass of ten, to praise God for the sacrifice given for us

All.

This year I thought of the black patent shoes when, on Sunday morning I donned my black boots to wear to church.  Too cold, damp with a dusting of snow, to wear shoes, black patent or otherwise.  This year the weather is not reflective of the new life we thank God for

Still I’m glad Easter is in Spring Time.  The hope of new life comes at a time when we celebrate the giving of life. The sacrifice of life.  Not any life.

THE life.

Jesus is THE way, THE Truth and THE life.

I saw crocuses coming up in my garden this morning.  They know there is hope.  The God who created them, lets them know when the time is right to poke their heads up.  Spring is my favourite.

I’m thinking about

The Reason For The Season.  I’m sure research would turn up the reason for the bunnies and candy and hiding stuff and finding it.  The grownup little ones of ours who leave the chocolate on the table

still appreciate the celebrating.  Whether it be Christmas or Easter, black patent or boots, new clothes or old, we have, I hope, passed on to them the importance of

celebrating the WHY

We teach our precious ones about The Reason for The Season because it is good for them to know it.  God doesn’t need us to remember.  He wants us to do it because He loves us and He knows it is good for us to remember.  It’s good for us to pass the remembrance from generation to generation.

The Reason, The Why

is

But God shows His love for us  in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us

(Rom. 5:8)

Hallelujah what a Saviour!

 

Passing it On and Raspberry Pie

life

“I love your blog”

and then something about Me being Kind.

I have spent not more than three hours with this person, my cousin, in the whole of my adult  life.  I know little about her other than

she is nice.

She lives far away and I have not ever lived near her.

When I last saw her

she was welcoming me into her mother’s home

An ambulance was on it’s way.  The last ride her mother would ever take, was to a place she would never leave.  This girl, the cousin of mine was, along with her precious sister, doing what loving daughters do when their mother is dying.

They were living and doing what needed to be done, when they wanted it to be different.

They smiled when the tears were close

they welcomed me into their pain.  You get to know people when they are suffering.  Defenses are down and putting on a brave face is not worth the effort.

I was a cousin, come in the place of another who would have been there, had she been able.

This dying woman was the sister of my mother.

They were both Nano, just as their mother before them had been.  Just as this cousin is and hopefully I will be some day.

This woman, aunt of mine, sister of my mother, mother to these cousins, was not part of my life.  My mother and her sister were different from each other.  They had come from the same seed yet planted in different places.  They chose lives that did not intersect and lived far from one another.  My aunt

Marj

lived between my house and our cottage.  Sometimes when I was driving by I would stop for a quick visit.  Not a lot to talk about,

but blood runs deep.  Family ties are real even when we don’t see them.  When my mother came to visit, we would take a few hours and go to Aunt Marj’s house for lunch,  to connect.

Oh how my mom loved her sister.  Different people on different journeys and yet, sisters, bound by memories of

Then.

She got sick, this aunt.

And then we all knew her life would end sooner than she had hoped.  That’s when the family ties began to tighten.  My mom would call and ask me to please pop in for a visit.  She so wanted to be there but of course, when you are 90 and live 2000 miles away, being there and helping is not possible.

So I did.  Pop in.  Not often.  Not nearly often enough.

Three things I remember clearly about those last days and visiting that aunt of mine.  Those things are these

Just a few weeks before she was whisked away by ambulance, I sat next to her on her couch.  She looked at me and said

“tell your mom not to worry.  I’m ok”.  Well we knew of course, that she was not at all ok.  I said the first thing that came to mind and that was this

“Aunt Marj, mom is at this point, less concerned about your body and very much concerned about your soul.  She wants to see you again someday.”

“I know”,  she said.

And that was that!

The next thing I remember was the day before the ambulance drove to that house.

I called and it was evening and she was weak and she was sick and I could hear it.  She had not been eating and I asked her if there was anything at all I could bring for her to eat.  Being who I am and in fact, my mother’s daughter, we think of food when we want to comfort someone.  Food is good.  Food bridges chasms.  I have seen it happen.

And then, there it was, unexpected and

I was surprised.

“Raspberry Pie.  I haven’t had Raspberry pie in such a long time and it would taste so good right now”.

And without a gap of a second, my reply

“I will have one there first thing tomorrow morning”

and I went to the store and bought raspberries and it wasn’t raspberry season but they were there, in plain view and I took them home and put them in the fridge and mixed up the pastry and got it ready and first thing in the morning I went to the kitchen and mixed up those berries and rolled out that pastry and put them together and baked them and took that pie and drove to that town,

north

and the pie was still warm and I knocked on the door

and those girls, those cousins I didn’t know, but for a few brief chats, opened the door and let me in and quietly told me the day had come

and she was leaving this house.  The house she had lived in almost forever.

But first, we brought that offering and cut it into pieces and took it to the place where she was resting, on the couch and it smelled so good and we sat together and we ate

pie.

Someone was dying and those daughters felt like weeping and they were tired and I hardly knew them and we ate pie together.  Their mother, my aunt, with help, ate maybe, I don’t know,

two bites and she loved it and that was all.

I went to see her in that place where people go before they die, where they are cared for lovingly and their families come and go whenever they wish and it’s quiet and there is laughter and people are sad and wish it was different and long for the past and just want it to be

over.

One of the times I went, I learned a bit more about that cousin.  The people working in the place were all whispering and chatting and they told me that Marjorie’s daughter had made ham and scalloped potatoes and vegetables and had brought that feast and even though her mother was past the point of eating and was waiting and they were all waiting,

they had eaten and there was so much that it was too much and it was delicious

and who does that when her mother is dying?  Makes a feast for people who can see the sadness all around and although they can do nothing about it, they do their job and they are kind.

Well that girl, woman, cousin of mine was, in the midst of her pain, aware of the needs of others and I thought about the selfless act of kindness and

I understood a bit better, who that girl, woman, cousin was and is.

She is kindred.  She is blood and even though I don’t know when I will get to see her again,

I like her and I’m glad I’m related to her.  I wonder, when I next find myself mourning the imminent loss of someone I love, will I be so gracious, so selfless, so

kind?

I went and I sat next to my aunt and she was quiet and she knew and I knew that the end was coming and one more time I said

“Auntie Marj, I must say this, while there is still time.  My mom wishes she could be here with you and she would say it but she can’t so I will say it.  We want you to go to be with Jesus and the only way for that to happen is if you recognize that sin has separated every one of us from Him.   He loves you and died for you.  He has paid the penalty for your sin and mine.  He loves you.  You are suffering and sick and He loves you.”

“Oh how we want to see you someday, when we get to Heaven.”

And with her Bible beside her, the one she asked her daughter to bring so she would have it close, she said with her eyes on mine

“You will”

And that was that.  The last time I saw her.

Funny how little things can jump start memories.

I make aprons and cook and write these stories and have been reminded this week

it’s entirely likely  I spend too much time doing and not enough time

sitting, resting, listening.  It’s on my agenda, to do more of that.

Today though,

I thought of those days, spent with people I don’t know but they have impacted my life.  I thought of that extended part of my family and then you know what I did?

I made pie

I made Raspberry pie.  Actually I didn’t have enough raspberries so I added a few blueberries.  It isn’t exactly the same as the one I took to those ladies

one dying and two mourning.

But I remembered and I felt like eating pie.

 

 

 

 

Giants all around

life, , , , ,

It’s late!  I’m breaking the cardinal rule of

No computer within an hour of bedtime.  I need to sleep but I also need to tell you

Don’t let the giants in your life Ruin your life.  In the past year we have talked together about the good and bad.

Happy and not so much.  (Check the links below).

Grief

Good Days

Thorns

and who am I really, to tell you about these things?  What grief have I known?

You might say that mine doesn’t measure up to yours.  you may be right.

I was talking to a friend and we were saying that we can’t compare ours to each other’s.

Whether it’s grief or joy, it’s ours.

Mine

Yours

and we each feel

whatever we feel and it’s big and it

hurts

or it’s big and it’s

abounding joy.

We study the Bible, every Wednesday at the big church on the corner, where lots of people worship on Sunday and fewer worship and study during the week.  We study and we talk about what we are studying and it’s

the best.

I learn and I talk (no surprise there) and I even listen and while it all happens

I learn more.

We have what we call a wrap up talk at the end of each Wednesday morning and it’s good.  I took a turn a few weeks ago.  I worked on that lesson and I learned.

My turn, was the story of David and Goliath and I had heard the story so many times I didn’t even need to read it before I prepared the talk.  But I did it anyway.  Read the story and listened to what God wanted to tell me about what I should say.

I wrote the words for that talk

Twice.

I read it and spoke it and changed the words and it wasn’t right.  I prayed and I listened and I wanted it to be what God wanted it to be and it wasn’t, I was sure.

I wrote it again.  The third time.  While I was writing I knew, He was getting through to me.  He was going to say some amazing things and He was going to use my mouth to plant seeds in hearts.

When I stood up to speak the words He gave me to speak

my heart was full and I talked and I learned while I was doing it and now I’m going to share it with you.

It’s unpolished, unprofessional, unscripted, unedited and it’s live.  There are mistakes and I talked and then we listened to a song and I hope you will 

hang in there and listen to the end.  Listen to the five points and

Be Encouraged

because God has great things for us

for you and me and we can’t, we just cannot keep going through life, being attacked and broken and worn out by

Giants.

God is good to give us hope

Be Encouraged.

And Now I will go to bed and I hope to sleep.

Jumping in Just a little Deeper

life

You are Invited

Yes!  I’m at it again!  There’s a lot going on in my world and most of it

because

I keep jumping in

further and deeper.

Not sure why God wired me this way.  It must be about the gifting.

We all are.

Gifted.

It seems this topic has been coming up recently, in conversation.

I was at another one of those events the other day.  The ones where I get dressed up and try to look my best.  There’s nothing especially special about the people I was with, but until recently it made me nervous to think about spending an evening with them.  I’m not talking about 4 or 6 or even 14, sitting around my table.  This group tops out around 500, in their finest.  Fancy!!

Participating in conversation with this crowd requires a certain amount, no, a great deal of

listening.

What is that saying?  Something about being careful not to open your mouth and so to put to rest any question as to your foolishness.

In this particular crowd I have been known to show a certain amount of timidity.  Yes I am serious, but those days are pretty much over now.  As a dear friend has been heard to say, sharing a philosophy I attempt to emulate

“People don’t scare me”.  I’m trying to think that way!

So there we were on Friday evening, hobnobbing with those who would be considered by many, to be somebodies.  Of course, we all know,

the many I speak of are not nearly as important as the

One

who makes all ultimate decisions and is the creator of everything there is.

So, once again and as seems to be uppermost in so many minds since the question keeps being asked of

Me.

“So Pam, what are you doing with yourself these days?”

I don’t know why exactly,

but the question sort of causes a catch in my heart.

That’s when I jump. These days I actually Leap, into answering the question.

I will not fear but will speak the truth.

I Samuel 12:24   Says

Only fear the LORD and serve him faithfully with all your heart. For consider what great things he has done for you.” 

Oh How I love this verse!  How could I possibly choose A (singular) life verse?

Every time I turn around, there’s another one.  Put there, for me.  A promise.  A reminder.  A guide.

“I do a fair bit of helping and serving and I love to use my spiritual gift of hospitality.”  

That’s when I find myself looking into the face of confusion, hesitation, consideration.

“I don’t know what you mean” was one of the responses on Friday evening.

So what else could I do but explain?

Not sure she got it, even after I shared some of the things I am involved in, but that’s alright.

On Saturday evening, same people, different event, the question was asked once again and I explained

again.  This one, understood and I even went a bit further to tell her about this

blog and

the APRON MARKET.  Now that, I tell you, took some courage.  She liked the idea and said she needs a new apron.  Unfortunately the room was so noisy that our conversation was not in depth and ended before it was actually finished.  Maybe I can explain more

later.

But now I’m getting to what I want to say to you.

It’s kind of about hospitality and aprons and scones and sharing.

Some of my favourite things.

Today is the launch of APRON CUTIES

I’m pretty excited and looking forward to sharing them with you.  Fun and Pretty.  Both are things I like a lot.

You are invited to 

FABRIC, SCONES AND PEOPLE

If you are interested in viewing the newest collection of aprons

If you like to munch on scones

If you enjoy visiting over china cups and saucers full of tea or coffee

you are welcome to attend an apron viewing party

Saturday, May 2nd

10:30 A.M. to 2:00 P.M.

RSVP by Sunday April 26th to 

Pam

Pamelastaley@hotmail.com

Hope to see you then and in the mean time, do some looking into what your God given gifts and talents are.  Once you recognize your gift your world will become a whole lot more exciting and fulfilling.

See you soon

Your Friend, Pam

Finding Treasure Now and Then

life

I’m heading west. It’s a long journey and the reason for traveling is well worth the trip.  Family and time together and remembering and

spending here and now in each others company.

Just about this time last year I dove into the world of the blog. It’s been a trip, this writing and sharing of recipes and pondering of life. In the course of the journey

So far,

There have been a number of highs and a vast array of lows.

Thus, is the venture called life.

The theme, my motto, has become,

Steady On !

Keep the Faith

Fight the Fight

Be Filled with Joy

Fix your sights on the one who created Day and Night, water and dry land, moon and stars, animals and plants,

everything there is.

He created from nothing, everything there is.

Man

And woman from that man, both to be loved,

By the maker and

Each other.

Think more about loving than being loved.

Be honest, always.

Live every day, committing the minutes and the hours, to the one who created that day.

Worry less about

I Wish and I Want

And be concerned more, about

 

I am Yours and let my life be a reflection of who you are.

Giving thanks and being

ready to go and do and wait and listen and reach out and share and listen and pray and help and listen more

always.

I have been heard to say I want people to notice something different about me.   The truth is,

Noticing something different about me, is not enough.

I know a lady who has made a lot of friends on her journey. People have also hightailed it in the opposite direction, because of her boldness. He desire is to be Like Jesus, but also to talk about Him. She is so Not fearful of what people think of her. She is too concerned about their future. Sure, she is interested in their peace and joy here. But her heart’s concern is their future in eternity.

Oh, the people she has introduced to Jesus.

I have recently heard a story told from her own lips, of a visit to a hospital and a café and a young woman, soon to be a mother. My friend commented on the young woman’s lovely coat and they struck up a conversation. Phone numbers were exchanged, with my friend praying that if any further contact should happen, it would. A text from the young girl, a lunch date and

as I heard this story I realized

how ineffective my Good Intentions To Be Different

actually are.

Truthfully I’m not sure I want to be effective. It’s scary.

What will They think of me?  What should I say?  Will they understand?

 

So, I’m on my way to visit Nano.

As she says

She’s getting Old. I would have to agree. She’s in her 94th year. The one who made her has spared her life and given her a wealth of days. Every trip now, to see her, is precious and I soak up the hours.

This blog

Named after her, Nano

Is a tribute in many ways, to who she has been.

As she says

She’s not one to sit and do nothing. It’s getting harder for her to sit and do

Anything. There was a day when she was either cooking or sewing or knitting or baking a loaf for someone.

Arthritis and it’s ensuing restrictions, ongoing congestive heart failure and a body that

As she says

Is wearing out

Cause daily problems for her.

Yet she lives and carries on each day, in anticipation of what the day might hold.

She used to make aprons. She shared with me the joy of the feel and sight of beautiful, bright, cheery, friendly fabric.

She doesn’t really sew much anymore.

I, on the other hand, have

As I say

Picked up the mantle and am enjoying producing the Apron Market.

I guess you would call it a hobby and it brings me joy. Sometimes people buy an apron or two and it won’t be long before I have that cupboard full of fabric, all paid for.

My husband laughs.

It’s okay.

Better, I spend my time and energy and petty cash on producing something of beauty

Than, spending all of that time and energy and petty cash on candy or lottery tickets or, perish the thought, the stock market.

So

These days, fabric and aprons are often on my mind.

Sometimes sleep is illusive for me. Just the night before this last

I was awake for a bit

And with a somewhat anxious heart I thought of an object I hadn’t seen in a while. I knew it was somewhere because I had found it in Nano’s cupboard a couple of moves ago.

I found it, folded neatly and tucked into a drawer.

“Mom”, I said

“I want this. May I please have it?”

She laughed, right out loud and I saw the smile she gets when she is happy that I want something from the past but at the same time she is sad that the past is

Just that,

Passed.

“Sure, if you want it you can take it with you”

I did and

I did.

 

Oh the memories when I look at that worn, mended, threadbare piece of fabric.

Fish, fried

Humming, heard

Laughter, shared

In a small kitchen in a tiny house in a little town,

then in a little townhouse in a big city near the ocean.

All, so long ago.

It’s an apron

IMG_1719

Still a kind of whitish colour. There really are not many visible stains and yet it was worn in front of a hot stove more times than I can count. There is a patch in the front. The neck strap is frayed and ready to give up

 

IMG_1721

But it is beautiful

To me

IMG_1718

It is a symbol of love and hard work and kitchen smells and tastes that even now cause my mouth to water.

What makes it extra special is that it belonged to my dad

The preacher

The head of his home and there was no doubt about it.

He did the frying.

He cooked the best fish and although it has been so many years, the smell of fish frying in the pan in front of him standing there in his apron, is a clear memory.

Good, yet I am sitting here on this plane with the empty seat beside me, tears close.

I wish you could know him. He was, like David, a man after God’s own Heart.

He had struggles that caused him great pain. Oh nothing immoral or dishonoring to His God But pain that was painful.

He loved God much and his passion to share the love of Jesus was the propeller that pushed him forward. We, you and I, have talked about Thorns and he had one that caused him significant discomfort and even tormented him from time to time. He struggled and was

Broken while he lived wholly, fully and thankfully

And he was a testament to me

About trusting God

Despite the giants in His World.

I will explain more about my reference to giants in a later post, but you may understand when I suggest someone has giants stomping around in their life, that it spells difficulty, trial.

We all have them and it would be good if we could learn to let God slay them for us.

It’s closing in on 27 years ago, that God took Rev. C.D. House to his forever home. His work was done, his life lived for the sake of many.

His heart attacked him while he was on his knees at a prayer meeting. My third child was days from being born and

It was a blessed time we had together, those days before he left us for good.

We will see him again, of that I am certain. Him and so many others who have been called home.

In the mean time, I found a broken, sort of white, apron and

Remembered

and it’s so good to remember while living

the minutes we have to live,

With abundance.