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PROLOGUE:

“For He will command his angels concerning you to guard you always.”  -Psalm 91:11

     “Angel,” cooed the tot, pointing to the glass angel on the mantle.

     “Yes, Mushka, that is an angel,” said the woman, taking it down so the child could see it better.  “Very careful now, she is fragile,” she warned as the child reached for it.

     “You see this emblem on her gown…it means JOY in our Hebrew language.  God gives us a well-spring of joy even in times of trouble.”

     “Pretty,” smiled the child.

     “Yes, she is.  My son gave her to me just before he left for Basic Training,” reminisced the woman.  Wiping tears from her eyes, she placed the angel back on the mantle.

     Just then a knock at the door.  They went to investigate, hoping it was the little one’s parents, who had traveled to the city the night before.  Unfortunately, a sheriff stood at their door with a woman dressed in a bright yellow suit.  The woman and child entered just as the sheriff said, “The parents died instantly.  We have come to take the child to her grandmother.” 

    Her husband looked to her and the child.  The woman in yellow smiled kindly as she reached for the little girl.  The oblivious youngster went to her without struggle and smiled.

    “Angel,” she cooed, touching the young woman’s face. 

Misunderstanding her meaning, the babysitter sprang into action.

     “Please wait one moment.  I have something to send with her,” cried the woman as she rushed out of the room.  She returned with the glass angel.  Handing it to the caregiver, she explained, “to watch over the babe.”

The petite woman buried her face in her husband’s side as the sheriff and social service agent left with the child.  As the door closed, the husband wondered aloud, “Such a cheerful colored dress for such a sad day.”

Subtle Influence, Strong Inspiration

     I awoke from my dream.  I had been in a crowd, a big crowd like a Graduation gathering.  Out of the crowd stepped a tall, lanky woman with a broad smile, wearing a white dress. She embraced me and I felt loved.  I recognized her as my former high school journalism teacher, Mrs. Kerr.

     In my waking hours, I pondered the meaning of the dream and reminisced the four years under her tutelage. She was the first to introduce me to a Thesaurus and Ballet.  Her approval and advice in writing motivated me to say what I mean and mean what I say in as few words necessary.  Her mere presence commanded respect, but I valued her input and strove to be as learned and wise.  Scholastically, I did not achieve these high aspirations, but she remains tantamount in the small handful of inspiring teachers and advisors, which helped shape my character and skills.

    She was an Every Day Missionary in my life, in which, I did not realize until today’s ponderings. Ever striving to live God’s love that others may know by looking at my life whether than my mere preaching, she remains a strong example.  “Broaden your horizons,” is one of my mantras and goes back to a class assignment to attend and write about The Nutcracker.  She carted us downtown to an antiquated Theatre.  Beneath a plastered sky of cherubs and stars, I watched my first Ballet and was smitten.

     This lifelong romance with the Nutcracker, carried over into my parenting and we in turn, exposed our daughters to culture and Ballet.  Our youngest enjoyed Ballet and miraculously danced in Moscow’s Ballet Nutcracker her 18^th year.  Having injured her foot two years prior, diagnosed not to walk normally let alone dance again, prayer, and God’s grace healed her injury.  Two years later, she fluttered about stage as a Butterfly during a local performance of the Moscow Ballet.

     This same balance between scholastics, faith and culture influences my personal activities and in turn, those of our household. Living life to the fullest and following where God leads.  Our eldest, after prompting and reassurance to follow her passion, is almost finished her Culinary Degree.  Experiencing the South for the first time, she is doing her externship in Virginia for six months and continuing to broaden her own horizons.

    When I googled Mrs. Kerr, I hoped to find her address in order to contact her.  Instead, I discovered an article posted December 13, 2012 and then a video.  Coincidentally, my birthday is December 13.  The video highlighted the Kerr’s work in Missions and her subtle but strong love of God and appreciation for our salvation through Jesus.  Although unaware of their remarkable work in Missions, I am not surprised. In addition, just as they had prayed many years ago for funds needed to build a hospital and God supplied extra, He once again supplied abundantly.  I googled her in hopes to find an address and instead, followed links and dialed a number and she answered!

     I apologize again for not having kept in better touch with Mrs. Kerr, for she has been a major although subtle influence in my life in numerous ways.  I am grateful that the white dress in my dream did not signify I was too late to let her know!  God truly does weave us together in life’s tapestry and we never know how we influence one another.  As Christians, may we strive to show our love of God through our love for one another.  May we never hesitate to stop and encourage one another.  May we never miss an opportunity to thank those who influenced our life.  Thank you, Mrs. Kerr. Mrs. Kerr video

The Storyteller

     One never knows whom they shall meet or what that person’s story may be, unless one stops to listen.  While ambling along the sidewalk, just outside the old post office downtown, amid the sweet scent of early pear blossoms, I met a man.  His eyes were as blue as the clear sky above and his fair skin almost transparent, yet leathered with age. His hand was strong, but lightened, almost papery.  I noticed as we visited the permanent tattoo of nicotine on his left thumb and forefinger.  I stopped to shake his hand and ask his name, when he thanked me for the Lincoln and asked me mine.  “My name is George Henry Martin, pretty lady,” he smiled as he shook my hand.

     George Henry Martin…had many a tale to tell, all, which began with, “Let me tell you a little about.”  Peppered with, “Did you know…and well, let me tell about…”  A history lesson of the locals as they related to his family entailed.  He went on to tell me of his brother Jimmy James whom a man named Brimage had accidentally killed.  That led to another tale of someone from the Brimage family who wreaked a little havoc and is now serving a lifetime sentence in Nevada. He chuckled as he told how the warden appreciated the burly big size of the youngun and made him his own personal bodyguard. Another anecdote had a robbery gone awry and someone driving through a nearby shop window.With each new tale, he began, “Let me tell you a little something I know about…” and “Did you know?”

     Most I did not know, however, I did recall when Union Blvd was the original Hwy 99 when he inquired.  I remember driving beneath the Bakersfield sign with my Pop and Mom on the way to one of my grandma’s bike runs.  Five or six years old, I also remember staying overnight in a tiny turquoise motel and swimming in my underpants and t-shirt, as it was an impromptu overnight stay.  The water was warm and we swam at sunset.

     His tales poured from him, continuous and always culminating with relation to his family, like a babbling brook spilling into the river.  Enchanted and at ease, I listened.  Nonetheless, I bade him farewell.  “I sure have enjoyed visiting with you, Mr. Martin, but I must be going.”  To which, he smiled and asked, “How do you know my last name?”

     “You told me,” I reminded him.  “So I did,” he said and smiled again and gave a little wave.  “Farewell missy,” he said.  I think I heard him utter to the next passerby, “Let me tell you a little about my family,” but I have no idea if they stopped to listen.

     Curiosity led me to google some of the names I recalled from our visit and not surprisingly, I discovered it all factual and just as stimulating.  However, I much more enjoyed the tales told by the soft-spoken gentleman, smoking his cigarette beneath the sweet scented pear blossoms just outside the antiquated post office on a clear, sunny morning in winter.

WE ARE A PERFECT CREATION

       God has given us much to marvel at in Nature.  We learn much from a walk in the park or along the seashore.  Earth and the universe are ours to enjoy, explore, and learn from each uniqueness.  No two snowflakes alike, we are all unique as well.  God knows us inside and out.  We are a precious and perfect creation, from the moment of conception.  God knows the very number of hairs upon our heads!

How to make a snowflake:

Coffee filters make great snowflakes!

View a special snowflake gift @http://www.godtube.com/watch/?v=J0BCBCNU

Make virtual snowflakes @

http://snowflakes.barkleyus.com/