RECOLLECTIONS OF A PREACHER'S KID

By Olivene Godfrey

Being a Methodist preacher's kid, my earliest memories are closely related to church activities. And, at an early age I knew "by heart" the words to most church hymns. One of my favorites was "Amazing Grace."

This hymn was written by the Rev. John Newton, an Anglican rector in London. The words to the hymn first appeared in 1779 among a collection called, "Olyney Hymns." While it has a Protestant background it is sung in Roman Catholic churches as well, according to an article that appeared a number of years ago in the Wesleyan Christian Advocate.

As I thought of the old hymn this week, other memories of my childhood came back to me. And, some of those memories always return in the summer months, as that was "revival time” for my father who often served as pastor of a circuit of four or five churches, which were not air-conditioned. The only way to stir up a breeze was to use one of the hand fans provided by the local funeral home.

Usually the revival meetings would be climaxed with an all day Sunday service, with dinner "on the ground." Actually, the food would be placed on long tables in the churchyard. Following the Sunday morning service, the ladies, dressed in their best clothes, would spread food on the table.

There was always fried chicken and country ham, and of course, southern-style green beans. And every honest -to- goodness southerner knows that southern-style green beans have to be cooked with a slab of fatback until they are a greenish brown shade. An elderly relative of mine once remarked that he couldn't see how anyone, with any "gumption could eat canned green beans."

But, back to those dinners on the ground. There was always "fried corn" and potato salad, too. I have taken a lot of kidding over the years from some of my northern friends about
"Fried corn", that is, until they tasted the delicacy.

After relating some of my childhood experiences in a fan letter to writer, Paul Hemphill, (before he achieved his present literary status), he wrote to me that, "It sounds as if you have a beautiful background to draw from and write about this South you and I know."

And I do appreciate the rich experiences I had during those days. But, I still remember those hard church pews where I seemed to have spent so many hours of my life. Sometimes it seemed that as a small child, I slept more hours on those "benches" than I did in my own bed, as in those days, "revival meeting services would often last until midnight.

See you next time.

LITTLE THINGS IN LIFE COUNT MOST....

By Olivene Godfrey

Most people know that it's the little things in life that are most meaningful. So, I wonder why more people don't remember and take the time to do those important, little things.

While looking for something in a drawer this week, I found a Valentine that my late husband, Ralph, sent to me one year not long before his death. I knew he always spend a lot of time looking for cards that expressed his true feelings. As I read the card's words, tears sprang to my eyes and I felt a lump in my throat. I left the card in the drawer as a sweet reminder that little things do mean a lot.

I read years ago of a man who could be counted on to send two dozen long-stemmed red roses every Saturday, rain or shine, to a lady friend. But, another man who was also wooing the lady would sometimes turn up with a red geranium in a simple clay pot. And the second man would often bring things like catnip for the cat. One never knew what he would bring and to most women he would be the most interesting person.

Unfortunately, many people never show their love or friendship in tangible ways because they feel the gift should be expensive. But, I remember the wealthy woman who wept with joy when her husband brought her a bunch of violets he had picked himself.
And then there was the man whose business took him out of town frequently. He showed his wife she was in his thoughts by surprising her with little things that ranged from a single yellow rose to a small packet of granulated sugar enclosed in a greeting card.

And aren't the nicest gifts of all are the unexpected ones that aren't for any reason except, "I love you". Or "I'm glad we're friends.?" Thoughtfulness seems to come to some people, sort of an inherent trait, but anyone using his or her imagination can express friendship and love in hundreds of meaningful and inexpensive ways. One night when son, Barry, was a small boy, he wanted to roast marshmallows after we had a cook out in the back yard. He reminded me that I had said we could do that after the cook-out. I was tired and didn't feel like driving to the grocery store for marshmallows.

But, I suddenly remembered the many times my parents had ran similar errands to bring a little more happiness into my life when I was a child. So, you guessed it. I drove to the store and bought the marshmallows. I know I could have not gone and Barry would have been none the worse for it. But, the most vivid memories of my childhood are those times when my parents did little things that they probably didn't remember doing later.

There were expensive gifts during my childhood but I can hardly remember them now. Maybe the little things mean so much because many times the giver has spent considerable time thinking about a gift, or an act, that would bring happiness to a loved one.

The most precious gift of all may be to give our time to a loved one. Just a little while to talk, to listen, to share happiness,
and sadness, can be the biggest and most important little thing we can ever give to another person.

And we should from time to time be reminded of these words by Daniel W. Hoyt from a Sermon in Rhyme: "If you have a f friend worth loving/ Love him, Yes, and let him know/ That you love him, ere life's evening/Tinge his brow with sunset glow/
Why should good words ne're be said/ Of a friend till he is dead!"


See you next time.

THE STORY BEHIND A GLEEFUL FACE


-- By Olivene Godfrey
One day, years ago, while talking with a wise person, I spoke of how I envy people who always seem so carefree and gleeful.
"But, how do you know how those people really feel?,” I was asked, "Perhaps they are wearing a mask and are laughing on the outside and crying on the inside," she added.

Then I was told a story that many of you may have heard. It seems there was a man who went to see a doctor because he was so depressed and unhappy. When the doctor could find nothing physically wrong with the patient, he suggested, "Why don't you go to the circus and see the clowns and enjoy a good laugh."

"But, the patient said softly, I am a circus clown."

For a while I pondered the significance of the little story. First, I remembered how the great comedian, Red Skeleton, carried on before the cameras, bringing laughter to millions, as he mourned the loss of his beloved young son. Then I remembered the famous author who wrote humorous books and articles during a sad and difficult period in her life.

And, keeping a sense of humor during trying times does help to balance the human spirit while things work out. But, then I thought of those people who are constantly, the clown, whenever they are around others. I suspect that many of them are like the circus clown who visited the doctor. Their audience loves them for they are the supreme pretenders.

Socrates said that the shortest and surest way to live with honor in the world is to be in reality what we would appear to be. Actually, we don't fool everyone. If there isn't a good cake under the frosting, someone is going to know it anyway.

Surely it is every person's desire to know what makes him tick and how to go about making himself tick better. While he may not admit it to himself, he is in search of the truth of his own being. We are often victims of our emotions and they play havoc with our peace of mind. They tell us things are true with such sincerity that we believe them to be fact.

Most human beings have had hardships to bear. Actually, it seems that we demand such experiences before we can truly appreciate the meaning of victory. And, bitterness over past experiences waste valuable time. Someone said that until you have walked in the rain, you can't really appreciate the protection of shelter.

There are always compromises in life. But, if you know it's a compromise until the real thing or better thing, comes a long, then you aren't really compromising but being adaptable.
The danger is in telling yourself that you are getting only what you deserve. And, if you are an image - a clown, a self-sufficient person who needs no one, or whatever- then you will probably want what your image wants, not what your real self is starving for. And, most of us need to stop now and think and ask ourselves, " What are you trying to prove?

See you next time.

JUNE IS BUSTING OUT ALL OVER.... & MEMORIES OF HOT SUMMERS WITHOUT A.C.

By Olivene Godfrey

"June is Busting Out All Over", goes an old song, and that's how it is here now in Northwest Georgia. The greenery ad the flowers and my patio plants are fresh and pretty. And, I think that son Barry's beloved "Pa", my late husband, Ralph, would approve of the way Barry is caring for his patio tomato plants.
I am enjoying this new growth phase while it lasts as in late summer, the scene will change, with plants and greenery not as fresh and pretty. But, we won’ think of that now....

Good Old Summertime, with all the fun things it means, can be oppressively hot and humid here in the Southland. Summer weather is already here with temps in the 90s almost every day and hot and muggy. I am so grateful for air-conditioning, especially as much of my life was spent without it in the summertime. I have several vivid memories of episodes in my life regarding hot and steamy weather.

One year when we were young, Ralph and I drove to Daytona Beach, FL in an old Chevy that had seen better days. We were living in Northwest Georgia and Georgia and Florida are large states. At that time, there were no expressways and we traveled on a narrow two lane highway to our destination. The day we drove to Florida, the temp was over 100 degrees in South Georgia. We had the car windows open as we had no AC and intense heat was blasting us as it rose up from the floorboard of the car.
We could wring sweat out of our shirts and shorts and we had not brought any drinking water with us. In those days, there were few restaurants on this route and we were really suffering from the heat and thirst when we spied a small concrete block building with a sign that read CAFE. We stopped the car and as we entered the air-conditioned building, it was like finding an oasis in the desert. We asked for water before ordering sandwiches and a kind waitress brought us large glasses of iced water and cautioned us to drink the water slowly. That was hard to do as we were so thirsty. Never has water tasted so good!
Finally, refreshed, we went back to the car and continued our journey.

Another memory is the summer we went to Daytona Beach for a few days, for me, and to a fishing camp on a Florida river in central Florida, for Ralph, an avid fisherman. After spending a few days on the beach we drove to the fishing camp. We checked in at the main building and we were taken to a neat, clean cabin with a small kitchen and front porch.

We drove a short distance to a small general grocery store and bought supplies, including a whole chicken as the store didn't have any "cut-up" small chickens. When we returned to the cabin, we got settled in and we were hungry so Ralph went to check out the fishing dock while I cooked a meal. I had never cut up a chicken before and in that hot, little kitchen I wrestled with that bird while sweat poured off of me. Finally, I started frying the unrecognizable parts of the chicken which was delicious.

We lived in Florida for four years long ago and there were nights when we were unable to sleep as the heat didn't let up at night any, leaving us drained of energy in the mornings. We lived in several places down there and none were air-conditioned as few residences were at that time.

These days, when the weather is hot and muggy outside, like it is today, I stay in my air-conditioned house as much as possible. When I do leave the house, I have the A.C. going full blast in my car. And, I am still grateful every day for the wonderful invention of air-conditioning.

See you next time.

GROCERY CART CAPER & FUN WHEELCHAIR RIDE IN K-MART....

By Olivene Godfrey

On a recent weekend morning, son Barry went to the grocery store with me despite feeling somewhat groggy from sleeping too late.
I had been under the weather for several days and wasn't as alert as I should have been. So, we were putting items in our grocery cart in sort of a daze.

We were just barely starting our shopping when we both left the shopping cart for several minutes while we searched for a certain item. When we went back to where we had left our cart, it had disappeared! I guess I sounded hysterical as I told a store employee our buggy was missing. The worker began to go up and down the aisles searching for our cart as did Barry.
I might mention here that Barry, who has blond hair and blue eyes, has a dark heavy beard and he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. So, we were not looking our best that day.

Just as we thought we would have to begin our shopping again, Barry located our cart in the meat department. It is still a mystery what happened but the trip turned out okay in the end.

When I told my sister, Joan, about the episode, she said, "People in your town may start a rumor now that you are hitting the booze and Barry is using drugs." I can assure everyone we were both sober, just a bit strange and zany.

The incident of the shopping cart reminded me of a day when my mother and I went shopping in a grocery store. Mother always kept her purse in the buggy and I missed her and went back an aisle and she was pacing the floor, looking frantic. Seems she couldn't remember where she had left her cart and her purse was in it. We finally found the cart, with Mother's purse still there which was like a small miracle. We were both more careful about our purses after that incident.

Back to Barry and my weekend. On another day, we went to eat at Shoney's in nearby Dalton, GA about 11:30 A.M. The meal, grilled catfish for me, was delicious. We decided to shop at K Mart which is located next door to Shoney's.

Then, we removed the wheelchair I had on loan while I waited for a new one for me to be delivered. I am unable to walk more than 30 feet without getting winded and tired due to health problems. When I am at home, I am able to do light housekeeping and cooking by taking frequent rest breaks and breathing treatments. Barry, a wonderful son, does the heavy work for me. I hadn't been able to walk much in large stores or at malls for some time. I might mention that Barry works out regularly and is strong and is a speed walker. Everyone who walks somewhere with him complains about his fast walking including myself.

Since it was early in the day, the K Mart store wasn't crowded yet and has wide aisles. So, Barry took me on a fun ride throughout the entire store, pausing a few times to select items we bought, and at the end of the trip I wasn't tired and exhausted like in the past.

Barry says when I get the new wheelchair, he will take me to Hamilton Place, the huge mall at Chattanooga, and we will eat lunch at the Piccadilly which I love, and for the first time he will give me a complete tour of the large mall. I am looking forward to that, too.

See you next time.

LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE & LITTLE THINGS THAT HELP US A LOT....

By Olivene Godfrey

For centuries men have laughed at women's reluctance to tell the truth about their age. And there once was a time when no woman admitted to being over 30. But, today's life span is so long that being in the 40s or 50s or even 60 or older certainly doesn't mean you are ancient. so, why not be honest?

I realize some women, and some men, are perhaps forced into fibbing about their ages because certain types of industry still retain the idea that above a certain age, you are over the hill.

I think it was Oscar Wilde who said, " A woman who will tell her age will tell anything." And I have known women who went along with that. Whether one tells one's age depends upon the individual woman. But the woman who does fib a bit about her age may run into some complications. It's been said to be a good liar one must have a good memory.

And one's age can be looked up in any number of places. In
our country there seems to be too much emphasis placed on youth.
Each year in a woman's life should be a challenge and a record of new growth, new wisdom. And today there is so much to do,
so much to be excited about, that exactly how old you are is less and less important. To make a success of old age we need to start young. As May Lamberton Becker said, "We grow neither better nor worse as we get old but more like ourselves."

LITTLE THINGS THAT HELP US ....I guess we all take small, but important in their way, conveniences for granted. Such as when I cook chicken in the oven, I line a pan with aluminum foil
and when the chicken is cooked I remove the foil and still have a clean pan. That's only one of dozens of uses for this product.
Then I wonder sometimes how I would manage without paper towels and cheap paper plates when I work in the kitchen.

Another of my favorite little things is my hand held shower which set on message wakes me up in the morning when I take a shower and can't seem to wake up.

Here is a quote from our old friend, Anon, " I'll tell you what kind of man he is - when I first met him I liked him but he talked me out of it."