Saturday, March 21, 2009

Her Children Arise And Call Her Blessed.

I have been busy the past few weeks working on some sewing projects with my friend and neighbour, Brenda.  Once ploughing season begins, I will not see Brenda much so sitting in front of our sewing machines, side by side has been a special time for me. As a matter of fact, I do not really like sewing; I far prefer spinning and weaving  but Brenda loves to sew and patiently encourages me.

Brenda is a devoted wife, mother and grandmother.  After  long days of cooking meals for hungry farm workers, tending to household chores, book keeping for the farm, driving farm vehicles, tending animals… she always...always has time for her grandchildren and I often see her riding her bike down the country roads with them in the cool of the evenings.  She attends a number of community groups such as the local fair board, Women’s Institute, 4 -H organization, to mention just a few.  And did I mention…her baking skills are to be drooled over! 

Each spring, Brenda likes to set up the incubator to hatch an assortment of chicks and ducklings for her grandchildren.  One evening last spring, I was heading back home from town.  It was late and most of the houses along the road lay quiet and darkened.  As I passed Brenda’s house, it too lay quiet and dark and I assumed all were asleep in bed.  To my delight, as the rest of the family were sleeping, I saw in the dimly lit window, my friend, standing over the incubator having one last look to see if any new little creatures needed a helping hand to come into this world before heading to bed.  I had to smile as that was Brenda.  No wonder her family and friends love her so much.  To me, she is very much “the wife of noble character” in Proverbs.

She is clothed with strength and dignity;

she can laugh at the days to come.

She speaks with wisdom,

and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

She watches over the affairs of her household

and does not eat the bread of idleness.

Her children arise and call her blessed;”

                                      Proverbs 31:25-28. 

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How thankful am I that she is my friend and neighbour.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Counting...


I am counting heddles for my loom: 608 heddles, 76 on each of the 8 shafts, each separated into two sections of 38. Each heddle must face the same direction. With the help of the sun's reflection, I make sure the heddles are all facing forward.

I am also counting the days till spring...12 days to go. Everyone and everything is whispering wait. Gone are the flocks of Snow Buntings who only four months ago, announced the coming of winter as they skimmed and swooped beside our cars as we traveled down the country roads. Yet despite their efforts to impress us with their skill and commitment, we barely noticed them as their mainly white plumage disappeared into the wintery landscape across the fields and along the ditches, feeding on all the seeds of weeds that lay above the snow. As if by magic, they reappeared further along as the soft winter sunlight was reflected from the black feathers in their wings. Isn't that just like us...to miss the most obvious, what is right in front, waiting for us. Anyway, thank you snow buntings. I saw you and you thrilled me once again, another winter.

The sun comes earlier each morning, staying with us later each evening and with this, I seem to breathe easier. The sheep are standing at the door to the barn, staring out at all the mud and mire, as the water continues to drain off the fields. They are waiting for permission to return to the pasture. The cats are preferring to take their afternoon naps outside in sunny sheltered corners, rather than on my comfy couch. Soon I will return to the woods looking for the first spring flower to arrive from the cold earth. It may be the Spring Beauty, a simple delicate flower, that is like a treasure who chooses to stay hidden among the decaying wood and carpet of last autumn's leaves. It will come with the Song Sparrow, followed by an unending and perfectly timed tapestry of forest treasures.


Where the fire had smoked and smouldered
Saw the earliest flower of Spring time,
Saw the beauty of the Spring time,
Saw the Miskodeed* in blossom.
Hiawatha

*Miskodeed-Indian name for Spring Beauty


Heddles counted and safely returned to the loom, I reward myself by studying pictures in my gardening books. There will be more tedious cloudy days of rain ahead and then one day, there will be an explosion of activity in town and up and down the country roads. Moving tractors, washing windows, garage sales, scampering kittens, exploring lambs and once again when it is time, we will get down on our knees and sink our hands into the soil.

It is a part of the cycle of life, to wait. It is God's timetable. We wait for Him to reveal Himself in what we barely dare to hope for. Let this time of waiting for Spring encourage us to cultivate a spirit of dependence upon Him and His never ending supply of goodness and mercy. Let us not miss what He has for us because we failed to believe...to look for the "Spring Beauty."

"Therefore will I look to the Lord; I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me." Mic. 7:7