Joplin, MO was hit last week by a devastating tornado. The pictures of the destruction are equivalent to a nuclear blast. Executive director of Quilts of Compassion, Janice Grimes, has interfaced with the pastoral care department of Freeman Hospital, the only hospital left intact. We are making about 200 quilts for a team from QofC to take there to give prayer-filled comfort and encouragement to those that lost so much. I am currently finishing quilt # 4 of 5 that I have here at home. On Tuesday, I hope to get more kits to complete in time for them to take with them when they leave on Friday, 3 June. Perhaps I'm not an expert quilter, nor exacting, but it's a learned process and I'm certainly further than I was when I walked in to the QofC office equiped with a simple desire to help. I've learned to quilt. It just goes to show you, you can teach an old dog new tricks.
We spent the afternoon today, 29 May, again @ CiC, for the annual, Blessing of the Fleet and Salute to our Armed Services. Ian and his friend, 2nd Lt. Carl Cunnane (Wright-Pattersom AFB, Dayton), did a impressive, ceremonial flag folding, for the event. Service members from all the various branches were honored, both past and present. A handful were in uniform. What a contrast this day was from the Vietnam War era days, when the returning soldiers were humiliated, spit upon and cursed as they disembarked. As a young woman, I would watch in disgust. Those television images have never left me. The media had us believing that that attitude was the majority. Oh the lies and deception then and now.
Random Thought of the Day!
Sometimes the ship of our life is drawing a nice rhythm in the waves and making good time. However, the inevitable storms of life also come. They can toss us about, throwing us completely off course. It is then that we perfect our sailing skills. For a good sailor is never born of calm waters....but in the hurricanes of our life. ~
Thursday, May 19, 2011
....and so it begins, Mama T's blog, for what it's worth. Growing up with my extended family across the expanse of a wide ocean, I'd often wondered what my grandmothers would have been like, had I grown up knowing them. Hence the blog. Perhaps my grandchildren will never read this, perhaps they might never care. However, on a hunch that someone, somewhere may like to hear the voice of a grandmother through the mists of time, I write. It may not always be eloquent, nor always wise and profound, but I'll try. For me, I know I would cherish the glimpse of my grandmothers' thoughts and wisdoms had I had the opportunity. .....and so it goes.