Daddy’s Angel

The smell of freshly cut grass and the nip of a cool spring morning greeted me as I walked across the lawn to where my Dad was laying row after row of freshly mowed grass.

I always enjoyed my visits to see my parents and often I was guilt ridden because it took longer than it should for me to make the short journey from my house to theirs.

This particular morning I was feeling good about my visit and looked forward to conversation and lunch with two of my favorite people.

“Dad, what happened to your hand?” I asked over the roar of his lawnmower. I had noticed a huge bandage wrapped around one of his hands.

“Oh, I hit it on the lawnmower blade and cut it pretty bad,” he replied. He stopped what he was doing just long enough to answer me. Then he returned to the task at hand.

“Have you been to the doctor?” I asked again, determined to get an answer.

“Oh, yeah, he gave me tetanus shot and bandaged it up,” he replied, as he stopped the mower.

“Daddy, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to dig around in all that grass and dirt with a hurt hand.” I really was concerned for him.

“I’m fine, I have got to get this mowing done,” he answered as he turned back to the mower and left me standing in a puff of exhaust fumes.

A week passed before I made another trip to see my folks. This time they both were in the house and I didn’t have to chase Dad down to have a conversation with him.

When I entered I noticed the bandage on his hand was still in place but not so big now and recently changed.

“Well how’s your hand, Daddy?” I asked.

“Much better, now that my Angel came and took care of me,” he replied smiling.

“Your Angel?  What angel?” I asked.

He proceeded to tell me the following story, pausing now and again to smile.

“I was in a store the other day, looking for some band aids to put on my finger. It was throbbing like crazy and I thought I’d buy some band aids and some salt to soak my hand in. As I stood pondering what kind of salt I needed a lady walked up to me and said, ‘Would you mind if I looked at your hand?'”

“I told her no, I don’t mind. I’m wondering what kind of salt I need to buy to soak it in.”

“How did you injure your hand?” she asked.

“I told her I was mowing and cut it on the blade. I also told her I had been to the doctor and got a tetanus shot.”

She took my hand and gazed at it a few moments and then she said, “Sir, you need to get to the doctor right now. Don’t even wait to finish your shopping; you go to the doctor this very minute. Do you understand?”

“She took me by total surprise and the look on her face let me know she was serious.  I shook my head and said, Yes ma’am I understand.”

“She turned and walked away. I laid everything back on the shelf, left the store and went straight to my doctor just like she told me.” Daddy said still smiling.

“When I got there the doctor took the bandage off and looked at my hand.”

“It’s a good thing you came back when you did. You almost have blood poisoning in that hand. Another day might have been too late.”

Daddy said he just looked at the doctor in total amazement and then told him the story about the woman coming up to him in the store and telling him to get to the doctor immediately.

“Did you know this woman?” the doctor asked.

“No, I didn’t know her,” dad replied. “I’d never laid eyes on her before.”

“Well, I think your Guardian Angel just took charge of the situation,” the doctor said. “Another day and you could have not only lost your hand, but you could have lost your life. I’m goanna give you a jump start with antibiotics in an IV  right now, we’ll repeat this again tomorrow. That is, if you have improved a great deal. If you haven’t then I’ll have to put you in the hospital with around the clock antibiotics.”

Daddy shared that he was speechless. He said he just laid there and listened to the doctor as he dressed the wound and the IV dripped into his veins.

The doctor gave him a prescription for antibiotics and told him he would see him the next day. Again the doctor said how lucky he was his Guardian Angel was on duty today and took good care of him.

“You know I never much believed in Guardian Angels until now,” Daddy said, “but, I had never seen that woman before, nor have I seen her since.”

I walked over and put my arms around his neck and said, “Well, thank God for Guardian Angels, Daddy. I bet yours is tired at the end of the day from just following you around.”

We both laughed and he went back reading his newspaper.

But, I could tell Daddy believed he’d had an encounter with an angel, and “that angel” had saved his life.



Spring is beautiful as green grass grows, but, Lordy the allergies sure bless my nose.

I try to smile when others say, “Don’t you just love springtime in beautiful May?”

Between the snot and tears that flow, Kleenex and plenty of Claritin rolls.

I smile at the sun between eyes swollen shut, and say, ‘It’s springtime how wonderful!”

As it kicks my butt.

Mamaw’s House

I stepped up on the gray and ageing wood of my grandmother’s porch. The spring day had been interrupted by a down pour of drumming raindrops beating out a steady cadence on the tin roof. The clucking chickens that usually had residence in the yard, had taken safe haven under the porch to escape the spring shower.

I walked with hurried step to the screen door, through which I could see my short grandmother wiping her hands on her ever present apron, as she busily prepared our family Sunday meal. Aromas of fried chicken, baked bread and freshly baked pies wafted themselves through the aging house, reaching the screen door and making their way to the porch and my childish nose.  It was my Mamaw’s house and I loved everything about the place where my father and I were born. It was growing old and showing definite signs of aging, as was my Mamaw, but to me they both were a glorious refuge.

This old house provided a safe sanctuary for my grandmother, and within the aging walls a small child could find all kinds of knickknacks. It contained a huge closet that you could walk in and discover treasures that had been painstakingly preserved by my grandmother. There were trinkets and an old black and white photograph of a young woman, holding a baby, looking back at me. In the camel backed trunk my grandmother had put away pressed dried flowers and yellowing baby clothes from long ago. The old musty closet held yesterday’s memories. To keep me at bay from my endless “prowling” as my grandmother put it, she would tell me the old closet was the devil’s den in hopes my meddlesome fingers would stay out, but they never did.

I especially liked the outside porch that greeted the rising sun each morning. In the warm, and often hot days, it was requested that you “wash up” outside on this porch. Of course it never occurred to me that to “wash up” outside was necessary because there was no indoor bathroom. So the old house was really clever to offer a “wash up” place. It was a shelf built out of the same graying lumber as the porch and it ran between two poles that were nailed to the aging veranda.  On it set two pails of cool water, always full, two wash pans and two hand towels that were made from something that remotely resembled a flour sack. A big bar of smelly lye soap rested on a broken saucer between the two wash pans.

When we set down at Sunday’s food laden table we bowed our heads in gratitude for the food and for the hands that prepared it. A soft spring breeze moved through the raised windows, causing the old house to creak in objection. The smell of rain foretold that another spring shower was approaching to drum out one more song on the rusty tin roof of my Mamaw’s house.

Time has erased the house.

My grandmother has been gone a long time.

What can never be erased are the precious memories she left for me, her first and only granddaughter. I look at her gold wedding band that passed from her to her daughter, then from her daughter to me, and I have already told my first great granddaughter it would someday be hers.

I find comfort in that. It somehow gives credence that love passes from one generation to the next and all that will remain for any of us, are the sweet memories we leave behind.

May those memories be filled with the blessing of having known the love of a grandmother.

Greetings to my Fellow Homo Sapiens…

Greetings to my fellow Homo sapiens:
I am in a world wide effort to draw all mankind into a logical and decisive behavior pattern, AS TO HOW WE SHOULD TREAT EACH OTHER.

I realize the operative word here is SHOULD, not how we DO treat each other.
In my humble opinion, my way will accomplish much in our ability to attain a more peaceful world. Instead of making enemies, we will attain allies. Instead of turning a deaf ear to cries for help, we will offer a hand up, not a hand out. If we can reach this plateau of human behavior there is not a doubt that we all will receive a MUTUAL benefit.

My plan to achieve this lofty goal is very simple. We start out with a unified effort for everyone, one day a week, any day you choose, set aside as YOUR day to preform ONE act of kindness to someone you don’t know. It can be anything from allowing someone to go ahead of you in a grocery line, to paying for a homeless person’s lunch, to taking a needy family a sack of groceries, to buying someone clothes that need them or simply paying for the guy’s order behind you in line at McDonald’s drive through.

There are all kinds of acts of kindness each and every one of us can do. All we have to do is open our eyes and our HEARTS to the opportunities that come before us each and every day that we are privileged to live and share the air we all breathe.

Cultivate the habit of looking for some small way you can help your fellowman to make life a little sweeter, a little kinder, a little bit better than he or she, has it today.
I promise you, IF we are able to do this one small thing, this tiny act that will require so little of our time and so little of our money, our world will become a much better place in which to live.

Let us forget about self for a second in time, and think of another’s needs. On whatever day you chose to be your, ‘act of kindness day,’ pledge that for one brief moment in time, you will treat someone as you would like to be treated.

Forty Hours that Changed the World…

Sunday’s a Comin’…

“Good Friday,” I think should be called “Black Friday,” because that’s the day Jesus’ died.

Of course “Good Friday,” is symbolic that God loved us enough to send His son to die on the cross so that we didn’t have to die and be lost forever.  Looking at it like that does make it “Good Friday.”

But, I want to talk about Sunday. Thank you Lord, for whispering, “Sunday’s a Coming.” On that glorious third day, the women went to the tomb and it was empty. The stone was rolled away; burial cloths lay where Jesus had been. Jesus was raised from the dead to walk for a short time, on the earth again.

What a difference approximately forty hours made for the entire world. From the time Jesus died until he lived again.
Every day, I give thanks to my Heavenly Father, for loving and caring for me. But if I ever have a doubt, all I have to do, is remember those scant forty hours when the future of the entire world and all the generations of mankind, was changed forever.

I pose this question to you. A question that two angels asked, “Why do you look for the living, among the dead?”

Our Lord lives. He walks and talks every day to those that believe in Him. His word is infallible. His way, unbeatable. His love never ending. His grave is empty. Thank you Jesus! Thank you God! Thank you Holy Spirit!

I pray for those that do not believe.  The Centurion soldier at first did not believe, but he had seen Jesus die, he had helped take him down from the cross, he had guarded the tomb, and when he looked into the face of the risen Jesus, the Jesus he knew on Friday to be dead. Then, he knew this man named Jesus, truly was the Son of God!

I pose this question to you,

“Why do you look for the living, among the dead?”



The wind picks up and stirs the branches of the trees as the moon darts in and out behind the clouds.

Inside the house a table has been set and food is being enjoyed by a group of friends.

There are twelve men present and strong bonds of friendship and love abide.

Their leader suddenly says, “This night, one of you will betray me.”

The group grows silent and then one by one, the gathering asks, “Is it I? Is it I?”

One speaks up and says, “Never. I will never betray you.”

The leader answers with sadness, “Before the cock crows you will deny me three times.”

Again the mumbles, “IS IT I? IS IT I?



As Aretha Franklin says, “Find out what it means to me.”

Well, first of all I’m a ‘Proud Mary,’ and ‘I Will Survive,’ although at times it seems all I can do to, ‘Just Breathe.’

My neighbor’s ‘House of the Rising Sun,’ seems to have a leaky roof as the occupants ask, ‘Who’ll Stop the Rain?’ And many shout, ‘I’ve Seen Fire and I’ve Seen Rain,’ and no one helped me. So you, like me,  can endure, ‘The Sound of Silence.’

‘I Heard through the Grapevine,’  that you might as well be spitting, ‘Against the Wind,’ if you are waiting for someone to help you out, because there’s, a ‘Bad Moon Rising,’ and no one cares if your ‘Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain.’

‘I’m in the Mood,’ for me and ‘Bobby McGee’ to ‘Take it to the Limit,’ but there’s something about ‘Lying Eyes,’ that keeps me for that ‘Peaceful Easy Feelin,’ as ‘Sunday Mornings Coming Down.’  So I ‘Turn the Page,’ of the morning paper and see, ‘Made in America,’ ‘Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue,’ and that makes me shout, ‘Halleluiah,’ ‘God bless the U.S.A.’

‘Heaven Knows,’ it’s hard to build, ‘A Bridge over Troubled Waters,’ and that seems to be what’s happening in today’s time.

‘R-E-S-P-E-C-T,’ ‘In Case You Didn’t know,’ is ‘Blowin in the Wind,’ and although I may not be, ‘As Good as I Once Was,’  ‘ I  have to ‘Believe,’ that most can, ‘Remember When,’ we could live, ‘Without a Fight,’  and never have to walk that, ‘Copperhead Road,’ again.

I have to say, ‘If Tomorrow Never Comes,’ ‘America,’ is still, ‘The Wind Beneath my Wings,’ and

‘R-E-S-P-E-C-T,’ should be, ‘Always on my Mind,’ as it is ‘A Two Way Street.’

So, ‘When we get to Where we’re Going,’ let’s all, ‘Join Hands,’ ‘In the Still of the Night,’ and dance the ‘Boot Scootin Boogie.’ 

Which would you choose…

For Immediate occupancy:

Apartment overlooking  the city.

Gracious windows that allow unobstructed view of the cities golden streets, and alabaster walls.

Applicants will have to undergo background check.

7 St. Peters Avenue

Rent to Own:

A fiery apartment that titillates the soul with many surprises. 

Glimpses of Mr. Morning Star are rumored to occur daily.

The proprietor is very lenient as occupant need not have references, because no background checks are needed.

All welcome.

666 Brimstone Avenue