My Father...

My father is the kind of father who has a very big lot of axes and a very big lot of wood.

My father is the kind of father who pays for you to go on a lovely adventure with your mother to Minniapolis or Venice or Barcelona or Paris or Pisa, and then stays home to look after the swearing cat.

My father is the kind of father who tells a story about how you saved his life at your wedding when he is speaking at conventions, and then gets a tear in his eye.

My father is the kind of father who takes minor obsessions with things like baking, and buying cooking equipment, and starting computer clubs, and going to Ard Lui in the summer.

My father is the kind of father who retires early and buys my mother part of a mansion near the sea.

My father is the kind of father who teaches other people about word processing and how to make some head way with "Steps".

My father is the kind of father who competes with your son at computer games, and gets your girls flowers after a dancing show.

My father is the kind of father who takes one day at a time, and does not like Edinburgh that much, and tells the "Chief of Edinburgh" that fact - by accident.

My father is the kind of father who is over awed by no one, and treats window washers and millionaires just the same.

My father is the kind of father who creates a community out of strangers in the back shop or at Redheugh House, and also bakes good scones every Monday morning.

My father is the kind of father who takes you to the sea in the morning when you have chicken pox and lets you have dressing up clothes, even when you are far too old to play with them.

My father is the kind of father who likes to tell you how to put puzzle rings back together, whether or not you are paying attention. (you were not!!!)

My father is the best father in the world, and I am lucky he is mine, and you can't have him.

My Mother...

My mother is the kind of mother who tells you to put a lion's dropping in your bed to prevent cats urinating there.

My mother is the kind of mother who cooks for another family because their mother is sick.

My mother is the kind of mother who gets stuck in water flumes and slides down the side of a muddy hill on a sledge.

My mother is the kind of mother who fights windmills, and organises for Santa Clause to come up the street in a double decker bus, and makes Christmas Wreaths even though they jag her.

My mother is the kind of mother who shakes a ladder when you are up it with a gleeful look in her twinkly eye.

My mother is the kind of mother who tells you to get human hair from the barbers to put round your rose tree to prevent bambi eating your flowers.

My mother is the kind of mother who goes para-gliding, and makes fancy glittery eggs.

My mother is the kind of mother who keeps on keeping on no matter what life throws at her, and then paints a bear on a rock.

My mother is the kind of mother who looks after two of your children for you, and reads them a story, when another one of your children is very ill in the hospital.

My mother is the kind of mother who makes you laugh till your sides hurt, and keeps conkers on the windowsill because that will keep spiders at bay.

My mother is very elegent in the swimming pool.

My mother is the best mother in the world, and I am lucky she is mine, and you can't have her!

Goodness

Courage can be a hidden virtue. Faith can be personal. Goodness is the kind of character trait, however, that cannot be practiced alone. Goodness requires a public posture. To be good you have to be good to someone else. Makes you think, doesn’t it?



To be smart is an accident, to be beautiful is a cultural definition, but to be good is a choice.

Sister Joan Chittister

Trapped

• Remember the time when I was doing a night shift, and you were all in bed, and dad went out into the porch, which was also the home for our little black and white kittens?

• And, remember that dad was doing some kind of work around the house and was putting his tools away and the porch door closed?

• And, remember how there is no way to open that door without a key. And, remember how he did not have a key. And, so he decided to shout "HELP!!!" in a really loud voice but no one heard him.

• And, remember how the kittens were jumping all over his back, and he was lying down trying to shout under the gap in the door, and no one was hearing him. And then he found a mouth organ.

• And, remember how he was blowing and blowing and blowing the mouth organ, and the kittens were biting and scratching him, and he was sneezing because he is allergic to cats?

• And, remember how he was blowing that harmonica and banging on the door and shouting for a looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong, looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong time and was just about to give up because he was getting dizzy.

• And, remember how you, Emilie, came down the stairs, and in a little girl sleepy way, and opened the porch door, and looked at dad like he had lost his mind.

• And remember how you put your little hands on your little hips and said to him in a puzzled voice, "Daddy, what are you doing?"

It's a family thing


Nice things people have said to me...


"I forget that you are actually our mother, and not just a nice friend who lives with us."


"Mummy, you are clever at singing songs."


"You are such a good help."


"I know what I've got, and I never want to loose you."

Curious George

One day Melissa said to Mummy...

"Mummy, can God ever die?"
Mummy answered,
"No, he can't. God has no beginning and will have no end, Lissa."
Melissa said,
"Mummy, is Jesus God?"
Mummy, knowing where this was leading, answered,
"Yes, Melissa. Jesus is both God and man."

Melissa said,
"Mummy, did Jesus die?"
Mummy, feeling a bit perplexed, answered,
"Yes, Melissa Jesus did die."
Melissa said,
"So, did God die Mummy?"
Mummy answered,
"That is a very good question. And I'm afraid that I do not know the answer Melissa. Would you like to play with the Play Doh?"

The Fruit of the Spirit





But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,
Galatians 5:22 (New International Version - UK)


One day I decided to play a little game...and teach a little lesson at the same time. I made a paper basket. I made fruit shapes in appropriate colours. I called them love, joy, peace, patience...and so on.

"Come and pick a fruit," I called. "We will ask Jesus to help us to show this character quality to others today."

We had a lovely time...I was very pleased with myself for teaching something of lasting value.

Dinner time.

Emilie hops up to the table... she eats a grain of rice...Emilie hops down from the table...Emilie hops up to the table...she eats another grain of rice...Emilie hops down from the table...Emilie hops up to the table...she eats another grain of rice...Emilie hops down from the table...Melissa hops down from the table...Emilie and Melissa hop up to the table...they eat a grain of rice each...they hop down from the table...Emilie and Melissa hop up to the table...they eat a grain of rice each...they hop down from the table.

Lorna is not happy.

"WILL YOU SIT STILL AND EAT YOUR DINNER, GIRLS," she says.

Tear filled little eyes...quivery little lips...gaspy little breaths...

"Wh...wh...wh...what fruit do you think Jesus would like y...y...y...you to take and learn to sh...sh...sh...show others, mummy?" whimpers Emilie.

Game, set and match...Jesus, Emilie and Melissa.

"I think it would need to be patience and kindness, Emilie," mummy concedes.

The moral: be very careful when playing a game with a moral...it may just sneak up and bite you.

But what happens when we live God's way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely.
Galatians 5:22 (The Message)