Dear Beth, 

     I would want you to know the riches of love. I am looking from the pond setting to the little house where ten of us children grew up. Poor in material things, so very poor that we often wonder how we made it. But, oh, how rich we were in the warmth and love of family. I want you to know, through my letters, my Mother and Father, my eight brothers, and my sister, for they are a part of me and I a part of them. As I picture their lives together and separately, I think, too, of my own individualism. I feel that you must know looking back is often good, to evaluate, to take perspective, to be grateful, to find strength and renewed courage. Then we can look ahead and plan. We can be assured there is the presence of God and His wonderful love, guidance and care. 
I wish it was so that you could go with me now to the little kitchen where there has been a warm fire, physically and spiritually, made by a wonderful Mother. I wish you could sit around the table where so many thousands of delicious meals have been prepared and served by those loving hands of Mother, and where today, after fifty-one years, she is preparing a big, Sunday dinner for the visiting children. She finds so much joy in having us share these meals with her now that we are grown. We are so glad to have Mother’s good home cooking, and above all, the love that she sheds about her as she prepares for us.

     I wish, Dear Beth, that you could look around into all the little cracks and corners, upstairs and down, that was home and is home to the ten of us. Most of us now have houses twice the more in size, but these memories, these years, can never be repeated. They can never be bought or sold. I wish I could take you for a walk around these familiar outdoor scenes of trees and flowers, of country life at its best, through the woodlands with the leaves crackling beneath your feet, a tiny squirrel darting into a tree, a rabbit hopping to and fro, birds flying from tree to tree, and singing as they go, and the white heron standing on one leg there in the pond. 

     I would like you to see the redbud blossoms in spring, the fish of summer darting about. You would like the taste of juicy grapes and sweet figs that have been growing here as long as my memory. But, it is impossible for you to be here Beth, and so, I hope as you read you will have some of the feelings that are now my own. You cannot hear the crow cawing across in the woodland as I hear it, nor can you see the sun now setting in a blaze of glory on the pond. It is so much like a beautiful painting, yes, but here in the great out-of-doors it is not hanging on a wall, it is hanging on my heart. How thrilled I am that two of my younger brothers have built their homes on either side of our childhood home. For now they can continue to see this lovely scene each day, and they can share it with their sons and daughters. In the rapidly changing world of the space age, it will be good for their children to know the beauty and serenity of this place. 

     For in the rush of the space age, they will have moments of relaxation here on the pond. We hope they will find some of the good way of life that we knew, and with which God has so richly blessed us. This will help them to be better able to face the world of men – the world of materialism. To know, Dear Beth, the feelings of God’s closeness in nature. This will help in the days of tensions and strife that will come. 

     Unless you can feel a great sense of gratitude for each blade of grass, each flower that God has made. Unless you can be conscious of His presence and your need of Him, you cannot know an inner peace. I find that inner peace as I come to this spot. I come to think and reflect as I am doing now, to look back and look ahead, to be thankful for God’s presence. It is my privilege to share with you, Beth, these thoughts, these moments, these scenes around me. I would hope that they will make your life more meaningful, and they will make you aware of God and His world. May these thoughts help you to know that I love you; that God loves you, will love you eternally. God holds you in the palm of His hand, and as the hourglass of your life moves on, He moves on with you, He is there as the sands of time move down the hourglass of life. 

© 2001 Florence Jenkins Muse. All rights reserved