FOREVER FRIEND

A friend is one who is always the same,

and accepts you with every fault.

She's someone who whispers your name in prayer,

no matter your time apart.

She's the one you can tell anything to,

and know your secret is safe.

Not only held in confidence,

but guarded with prayer and grace.

Years can't erase the bond that's held,

these childhood friends together.

Even time can't seperate these two souls,

for their friendship is forever.

Two young girls now Godly women,

it's a union heaven sent.

Two hearts intertwined many years ago,

still today are "forever friends".

---Mikki Jo Howard

To Debbie my BFF, you are indeed my "forever friend". I love you girl!!!

PURE IN HEART

I was looking at my favorite teacup today. It's my special cup I use when I'm having a quiet time, with a nice warm cup of herbal tea. It's very precious to me. The chipped and cracked teacup may look hideous, but to me it's priceless. You see, I have my grandmother's old sugar bowl, and while on a trip to KY. I found this worn teacup, that matched grandma's sugar bowl perfectly, with the same identical pattern. To me, I'd found a treasure, while everyone else passed it on by, because it was chipped, cracked and stained. If company came over and I was to serve them with the best china in the house, they would be served with this cup. I'm sure the person would think they were being treated terribly, being served with such a thing. And I'm sure they would think me to be a rude and ill-mannered person. I think sometimes we are offended by clumsy gestures of courtesy. Sometimes we judge someone by how they look on the outside, knowing full well that God sees the heart and it's intent. How many blessings have we scoffed at, or refused because we have such good "I-sight"? Matthew 5:8 says "Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God. Psalm 24:3-4 Who shall ascend into the hill of the LORD? Or who shall stand in his holy place? 4) He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully. Who are we to decide if God's blessings appear acceptable? Who are we to decide what package they will come wrapped in? Let's borrow a Psalm, a prayer of cleansing. Psalm 51:9-11 Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Lord, teach us to accept thy blessings with a pure heart.

LET IT SNOW

Watching the snow fall outside, as the redbirds busy themselves. I enjoy watching the redbirds when the snow has blanketed the ground. What a wonderful day.

I was very pleased to have had my story "Grandma's Dirty Knees" published in MaryJanes Farm Magazine. It's a wonderful magazine if you haven't enjoyed it yet I hope you do. I hope this story takes you back to some precious memories from your own childhood, Blessings to you!


GRANDMA'S DIRTY KNEES
Grandma's porcelain skin, graced ever so softly with tiny brown speckles. Her legs are slenderbut strong, her knees coveredwith fresh earth. As she stood she gathered her blue trimmed apron together with one hand,gently, so as not to bruise thered ripe tomatoes. While in the other hand, she carried a white chipped pail of savorystrawberries. With her shoulder shereached up to wipe the sweat from her forehead, catching it just before it ran down into her eyesand at the same time archingher wrist, carefully balancing the pail of berries.I continued to play, pushing my doll carriage up and down the hill. I stopped to watch asGrandpa stood in the shade ofthe old gray barn, brushing a chestnut mare till it shined like a new penny. I busied myself with mybaby-doll in her lavendersatiny dress. My faded tin dishes, trimmed a sage green with delicate pink flowers clinkedtogether as I washed them likegrandma had taught me. And Grandma was busy herself.She washed the small harvest she had just plucked from the vine, still warm in her handsfrom the hot sun. She driedher hands on her apron's skirt tail and placed a tub of water on the cook stove to heat for her dailychores.It was getting on in the day and I felt my tummy rumble. I could hear grandma singing fromthe wash-house as sherhythmically scrubbed back and forth and back and forth on her old scrub board, the corners slickand shiny from so manywashings. She turned grandpa's dingy clothes a bright white.I hurried in the back door, the old gruff screen door screeched it's welcome and then blammedshut. There it was, sittingwhere grandma left it, waiting just for me. A fresh bowl of strawberries and cream, sweetenedwith a spoonful of sugar and aprayer.It was always the biggest treat to rush in the back door to find my bowl of berries sitting onthe table. And mygrandma's little knees, covered with the fresh earth as she knelt to pick those strawberries. Andas she knelt, she prayed.She prayed for each of her children, grandchildren, and my grandpa. She always sought out littleniches of time as if it werea treasure of spun gold, and never put off anything she could do today.As the years flew by and her body became frail with age, she told me she missed being able tokneel down on her knees to prayand holding a handful of fresh warm soil in her hands. I wonder if she knows that I finally see thewisdom in such humble andsimple accounts. Thank you Lord for my Grandma's dirty knees.
©Mikki Jo Howard 2007

BLESSINGS

After all that my family has been through and all we have lost, I guess we could just lay down and give up and nobody would blame us. But I come from a family with deep roots, roots that reach far above my imagination. But I see them, I hear them, I feel them. They were present even before this country was founded. They were the courage that stood against the enemy in the Revolutionary War with my GGGGGGrandfather Edward Polly, and even another grandfather and some uncles. They were the strength that my Great Grandparents used as they lived through the Great Depression. The wisdom of my Grandparents who knew how to prepare for future generations. And love, the love of my parents. Love and hope they shared with us. A love so great that it brings with it, the courage, the strength, and the wisdom from past generations, that bind together this present generation. I grew up watching the grandest love story ever told. My Dad and Mom is and will always be the greatest and purest influence in my life. The love they shared is still, even in my moms absence, so sweet and gentle, tender and beautiful. I was taught the importance of tradition, commitment, family, honesty, the blessings of simply living and loving. Our house was and still is filled with laughter, tears, memories, and many many stories. When I say "our house", I am referring to our family structure. Their are many of us, but we are a single unit. And I am proud of that fact. You've heard the saying, "When the going gets tough, the tough get going"??? Well, around here when the going gets tough, we were already going. Standing together, hand in hand, a wall of love and strength, courage and wisdom, and hope with a foundation already set and unmoveable with the roots of generations past, and built upon the rock. That rock is Christ. So, after all we've been through, all we've lost. We stand strong in the promise of Christ, and life everlasting. I'm thankful for such a wonderful family. In the past four years we have lost my grandfather, my uncle James, my uncle Frankie, a dear family friend Virl, my Mom Sally, my uncle Silas, and my aunt Norma. We have so much to look forward to.

Precious Stones

The tiny stones in these old glass bottles are more precious by far than any rubies, diamonds, or pearls. These old glass bottles contain tiny stones of wisdom, strength, and hope. This is their story. My grandpa would gather the eggs each day from the barn, and he would be to get each one so as not to be wasteful, and it didn't matter what nook or cranny near or far, he'd find the very last egg. He was a strong willed man, and would not admit that at his age he shouldn't be climbing. As he climbed up to the barn loft he lost his footing and fell backwards out of the loft. After awhile, realizing he couldn't make it to the house, he crawled to the fence row. Every car that passed he tried to get their attention by waving. Finally about 2 hours later a car stopped. The man ran up to the house to call an ambulance. After sometime, the paramedics finally got inside the gate to him, grandpa's horse was bucking and pawing at them. In his horse mind, he was protecting my grandpa. It turned out grandpa had a badly broken hip. In his late 70's this was a dangerous break. After surgery and a long recovery, my grandpa was back on his feet. He knew he would have to exercise and take care of himself if he was ever to gain his strength back. Years later, I found shelves overstuffed with big bottles, little bottles, fat ones and skinny ones. Each bottle filled to the top with tiny stones. There was probably up to 70 bottles or more. I asked about these bottles filled with tiny pebbles. My grandpa began to explain to me how everyday he walked the edge of the creek bed, and every step or two he'd bend to pick up two or three tiny stones. He went on to explain how that was his way of exercising, strengthening his hip and the muscles that had grown weak. It may not have seemed like such a great feat, had there not been soooo many bottles filled with so many of these tiny stones. What I seen was wisdom, strength, and hope for the future. Each one of my family members have their own bottle of precious stones. When I look at mine, I see the strong loving hands of my grandpa. The heart of a man that held on to hope. And the simple wisdom, that made all the difference.

Rain Rain Go Away

I sure wish the rain would go away and some sweet Spring Sunshine would come. It's another dreary lazy day outside! Where are you Spring?