KEHA Inspiration Programs 2013-14

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This booklet has been prepared by the Pennyrile Area Homemakers (Caldwell, Christian, Crittenden, Hopkins, Livingston, Lyon, Muhlenberg, Todd and

Trigg Counties) specifically for Kentucky Extension Homemakers. Printing costs have been paid by Kentucky Extension Homemakers Association.

 

 

Forward

The Kentucky Extension Homemakers Association is filled with talented people who are always willing to provide service to others. Few are willing to draw attention to themselves, preferring to work quietly and without fanfare to better the lives of those in their communities. That is one of the valuable aspects of the Inspiration Book. It allows Homemakers from across the state to share stories from their lives, use their creative talents, and show what they value the most in their lives.

The Pennyrile Area Homemakers Inspiration committee would like to thank all those who submitted entries for the 2013-14 book. We appreciate your sharing your lives with us through your writings. We hope this book will be meaningful to all who use it.

Inspiration Book Committee Amanda Belt, Livingston County

Loretta Fitzgerald, Caldwell County Joann Harvey, Trigg County

Annie M. Kingston, Livingston County FCS Agent, retired Nancy Kelley, Hopkins County FCS Agent

Cecelia Hostilo, Trigg County FCS Agent

 

 

This booklet has been prepared by the Pennyrile Area Homemakers Association (Caldwell, Christian, Crittenden, Hopkins, Livingston, Lyon, Muhlenberg, Todd, and Trigg Counties) specifically for Kentucky Extension Homemakers and printing costs have been paid by the Kentucky Extension Homemakers Association.      

July

LIBERTY!

Loyal hearts were beating strong.

Independence from Britain! cried the throng.

Banners of red, white, and blue proclaim the reason.

Eagerness for individual rights was in season.

Revolution resulted in American rule.

Teaching our children is a must.

Yes, liberty means “In God We Trust!”

Willee Cooper Town & Country Homemakers

Christian County

August Thoughts on Gratitude

Not long ago, I ran across a quote I had never read before. It said, “What you take for granted, other people are praying for.” This short line really grabbed my attention, and I started thinking about all the ordinary things in my life that I usually don’t even notice, much less give thanks for. In other words…things I take for granted. Here’s my list. I’ll bet you have a list, too: A safe place to live A roof over my head Heat in the winter and air conditioning in the summer Hot and cold running water A comfortable bed A comfortable chair A car that starts Enough food to eat (OK, too much!) Clothes to wear Income enough to meet my needs Decent physical health and mental health Books to read Family and friends Freedom to worship God

And I could go on and on. There are people everywhere that would love to own a list like that. In fact, there are people everywhere that are praying for those things that we consider so very ordinary in our lives. Let’s look at our everyday blessings with new eyes, and develop the habit of everyday gratitude. And let’s also keep those eyes open to those who are praying for those ordinary blessings, and help be the answer to those prayers.

Libby Lancaster Honey Grove Homemakers

Christian County  

 

 

 

 

 

   

September

Reflections of Fall

Leaves fall from trees one by one

Counting down the days to the first snow

Arrays of color everywhere

Red, orange, brown, and yellow.

Pumpkins, squash, gourds, and Indian corn

Decorate places which are usually bare

Cornstalks stand tall and mighty

Leaves fall on them without a care.

Cool and crisp smells fill the air

Tobacco firing in a country barn

Grass mowed for the last time

Apple-picking on a nearby farm.

This is the time of year to reflect

On family, friends, and people we love

All the blessings we have received

From our heavenly Father above.

Sharon Delaney Honey Grove Homemakers

Christian County  

October  

Autumn

Autumn is a time when the whole of nature begins to slow, to change, and to rest. The sowing and reaping have passed, and a time of quiet contemplation falls upon us. This is a year of war, turmoil, worry, and a seeking for peace. Peace is more than just the absence of violence or conflict.

Where and how do we find peace, that sense of life that makes sense? Are we afraid of being alone? Do we really know ourselves or, if not, how do we become acquainted with that person inside us? How do we become the person we are supposed to be? Big enough to honestly admit all our shortcomings; broad enough to accept flattery without it making us arrogant; tall enough to tower above the deceit; strong enough to reassure love; brave enough to welcome criticism; compassionate enough to understand human frailties; wise enough to stand by our friends; human enough to be thoughtful of our neighbors; and righteous enough to be devoted to the love of God.

Time spent alone is the proving ground of the spirit. In quiet times, we can quickly find out if we are at peace with ourselves or if the meaning of our lives is found only in the superficial affairs of the day. We can easily fill our days with superficial affairs, activity, and work undone.

For most of us the search for peace involves a grinding of the gears, as we slow from hurried to quiet, from still to peaceful, summer to autumn, autumn to winter. A time to slow down and remember as Psalms 46:10 tells us, “Be still and know that I am God.”

Margaret Henderson South Todd Homemakers

Todd County

November Home Cooking

Thank you, Lord, For the thermometer inserted in the Butter Ball, And a large family to eat it all. Thank you for instant potato flakes, Turkey gravy in a can, All those microwavable things that don’t need a pan. Thank you for Stove Top with its herbs and spices And Dole for its juicy pineapple slices. Thank you for Green Giant And Birds Eye, too. Without their creamed corn and Brussels sprouts I don’t know what I’d do. Thank you for the Pillsbury dough boy, Betty Crocker, and Duncan Hines. When I need their help I reach out my hand, And there they are on my cabinet shelf. Thank you, Lord, for the 1-800-Turkey hotline, Who’s fully staffed until Christmastime. (P. S. Don’t forget their web site, www.toughturkey.com) But Lord, I have a question or two. What’s the difference between a sweet potato and a yam? Oh yeah, Lord, how do you shuck a clam? Thank you, Lord, for family, country, and friends, And all your blessings on this day. Lord, grant me enough refrigerator space to put the leftovers away.

Betty Gonzales Smithland Homemakers Club

Livingston County 

December God’s Chosen Ones

Sitting here meditating after finishing an eleven week Bible study on the Old Testament, I think of the people of the Jewish faith who have touched my life over the years. Coming to mind are the couple who owned a small “Mom and Pop” neighborhood grocery store where I shopped. Dave and Esther were their names. Dave ran the meat counter and would cut to order anything you desired. Esther was a strong woman who ran Dave, her boys, and the cash register. I was a young mother who had three small children and not much money, but could manage quite well. Things did not go well for our family, and with my husband out of work my meager grocery allowance dwindled. Christmas came and the grocery store got in some small toys to be put on lay-away, fifty cents now and then you could pay them off slowly. We didn’t have the money for milk, let alone toys! Esther pointed out to me that a coupon on the side of Carnation powdered milk could be cut off and mailed in to the company to get a twenty-five cent discount on another box of milk. Great! She also always had something extra, a broken package of cookies or some outdated canned biscuits. The treasures were bagged along with our other groceries and were enjoyed by all. These kindnesses were unearned but very much appreciated. The struggle of life was getting harder and harder daily. We could not pay our house payment, and I was very pregnant with a fourth child. My father-in-law came to town with several dozen eggs…food…to go along with the fried mush that I managed to make each day. I had two great aunts who received food commodities of corn meal, powdered milk, eggs, and peanut butter. They had a variety of food but these were the things my aunts didn’t like or couldn’t use; so they shared them with us. I could make pancakes, mush, and peanut butter sandwiches!

When January came it brought lots of cold weather, snow, and a new baby. The day we came home from the hospital, the gas man knocked on the door to tell me he was turning off the gas for non-payment of the bill. I bundled up a baby, bottles, diapers, and kids and went to visit a friend. What a sight we made, my entourage, wading in snow that was above the knees of the little ones walking with me. With the help of a dear relative the gas was paid and turned back on.

By now I started taking care of a friend’s two children, more mouths to feed. The money coming in helped and they would eat the fried mush and drink the powdered milk. One day a knock came at the door. It was Dave from the grocery store. “Do you have enough food for these babies?” he asked. “Because if you don’t, come to the store and you can charge whatever you need to.” What a kindness he handed to me! An offer of credit that may not be paid back! Of course, I cried, that a person, a professional person could care enough for my little family, and worried that we didn’t have enough to eat, would come to my home and offer help. Dave and Esther, I pray the Lord was kind to you and your family and allowed you to prosper and grow old in happiness. Thank you for your gracious kindness. You shall forever remain in my heart, a memory of past years and hard times we endured together. I feel my life was truly blessed by two of God’s chosen ones.

Loretta Fitzgerald Carefree Homemakers

Caldwell County

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

January

I've Learned All About Life.... From A Snowman

It's okay if you're a little bottom heavy. Hold your ground, even when the heat is on. Wearing white is always appropriate. It takes a few extra rolls to make a good midsection. The key to life is to be a jolly, happy soul. We're all made up of mostly water. You know you've made it when they write a song about you. Accessorize! Accessorize! Accessorize! Don't get too much sun. It's fun to hang out in your front yard. Always put your best foot forward. There's no stopping you once you're on a roll.....

Author Unknown~~

February  

Forgiveness

To forgive is not an easy task. As we walk this journey called life, we encounter events that we would rather bypass. An unkind word, betrayal of a friend, unfaithfulness of a spouse, are only a few episodes that leave our hearts broken and bleeding, and we ask ourselves, “How can I get past this?”

Some try to go through it with hatred in their heart. Hate only makes the wound deeper. Others seek revenge for how they feel. Revenge creates a cold and calloused heart filled with bitterness.

There is only the path of forgiveness that will stop the pain. Forgiveness is like a soothing ointment on a wounded heart that will soften the scar. We will never be the same, but just as a child matures to become an adult with each passing year, forgiveness makes one stronger and gives us comfort as we go down the path of forgiveness.

Forgiveness is difficult. Many times we are unable to offer sincere forgiveness by our own strength. God gives us the help and strength to rise about the anguish and hurt we feel in our heart. To have peace we need to say, “I forgive.”

Charlotte Nuyt Forever Young Homemakers

Muhlenberg County

March  

The Thank You Note

Dear God: My mother taught me, early in my life, the importance of always writing a note of thanks soon after I received a gift. So, God, this is my thank you note for the present that came to me today from you. This morning as I drove down the parkway I was filled with wonder and awe as the new live and color in the trees on the hillsides became a rich tapestry of gray and yellow-greens, with some smoky pinks. The subtle combination of colors was what any watercolorist tries for. In contrast, the sharp shapes of the dark green pines and cedars were like inky exclamations from a calligrapher’s brush. The delicate dogwood trees seemed to slip in and out of the muted patterns like sprigs of white flowers tucked into the hair of a young woman. Thank you for the surprises that come with the beauty of your springtime promises, and for the hope to be found in all the seasons of life. Yours truly, Jean

Jean Messamore Pennyrile Homemakers

Hopkins County

April Going Home

In the second car behind a lumbering school bus, I groaned as the large yellow vehicle’s heavy industrial brakes ground to a stop. The March afternoon was dark and drizzly. I should have known better, as a former teacher, than to be on the roads just after school had let out, with lots of stops and starts and children hesitating before darting across the opposite lane. That it was Good Friday, not a holiday itself but the beginning of Easter week vacation, had escaped my remembering—it had been a long time since my teaching days. I was conscious of only my frustration with the traffic and the delay until three children, apparently primary to elementary boys, appeared. Memories began to stir as the trio, laden with what appeared to be the contents of desks or lockers, shuffled around the bus’s front and trooped across the highway. All similarly blond-haired with reddish cheeks, they were shabbily dressed and a bit grubby, and so much like so many children that I had loved and tried to nurture over the years that tears came to my eyes. Then the child in the back of the small procession fumbled his papers right into the middle of the lane opposite the bus. With my heart in my throat, I watched as though paralyzed as events unfolded in slow motion. Literally “above” the scene, the burly driver of a Mack truck full of rocks from the nearby quarry barely held its straining brakes. Holding the heavy load on a steep downward grade, the Mack and its driver, his angry face visible, were loud and easy to interpret, I thought; the squalling metal on metal said it could lose its restraint at any moment and lunge forward into the spot occupied by the little boy. Bits of pastel construction paper and various other papers and folders were scattered for several feet on the wet highway. I was terrified at the

possibilities of disaster. But I was not ready for what came next. To my surprise, the scene began a transformation. The boy’s brothers deposited their armfuls safely back from the road, with some adults who had seemed to materialize out of nowhere, obviously concerned family members or neighbors. The two other boys looked older than the one in the road and of apparent ages that one might expect to ignore a clumsy little brother. But they hurried back to theirs and helped him pick up his things, patiently gathering odd pieces of paper as carefully as though they were dollar bills or at least their own possessions.

I still couldn’t breathe, though. What could be waiting to happen was horrible to think about. But the truck held its position, and

I could hear the gears shifting down. The driver’s simple wave said, “its okay—no problem.” The friendly-faced trucker (was this the same person I thought was glaring with anger?) vaulted down from his high seat as his truck engine continued to rumble on, brake set securely. He joined the children in picking up the debris. When the driver had swung down, he had himself been joined by the bus monitor - a cheerful, grandmotherly woman who took time to hug the little fellow before starting to help him gather his now mostly-found items into a manageable stack. Bent together, their two heads of hair—one a corn shock and the other a curly gray pillow—seemed nearly joined in some further project, right in the middle of the road! Think of the possible dangers! I thought, but the intense collaboration of the pair aroused my curiosity even as I breathed a prayer for their safety. The air still was heavy with moisture, but something in the mood lifted, for I noticed a wonderful thing—not one horn had been sounded, and there was not one indignant yell, nor one fist-shaker that I could see. Unbelievably, there was instead a communal calm, with the diverse group of drivers rooting silently for the boy. Corn shock and gray pillow rose—victoriously, I thought, although it made no sense to think it—and I saw the object of so much care. A tiny construction paper Easter basket, probably bound together by staples and tape, was being held proudly by the boy. It could have been made of gold and would have been no more precious to him. Recently restored from a near-smashed condition with the conspiratorial help of the bus monitor, the basket was now carried carefully to the roadside. Grandma accompanied the boy and basket, both covered with her raincoat, as though worried about no one else on the road or anywhere around. The trucker seemed to be years younger than before as he pivoted back into his seat, and could not stop smiling. And there still were no horns. I was in a teary haze at this point, for I had dissolved completely and sat blubbering. I would have been embarrassed if I had cared at all about anybody seeing me.

My Good Friday, my Easter, my Resurrection—they had all been found again today. I repented of my fears and frustrations and gave praise for little boys and Easter baskets, and, oh, yes—Grandmas. A perfect conclusion of the highway tableau would have had the heavens opening, sunshine pouring down, and angelic voices proclaiming joy for all, but it wasn’t that way—actually, it began to rain harder and the day grew darker. Of course, that was only earthly stuff. I can relate, however, that when the previously stalled vehicles started moving smoothly, I heard a delightful sound. There was a great chorus of tooting horns, making a joyful noise, and my car and I joined in! We were all, that day and someday, going home. Father, cover us and our worldly concerns with your love and take us home. Amen.

Eunice Beavers Mid-Morning Homemakers

Caldwell County

May

A Poem for My Mother

When I was young, you were always there, Showing me such loving care. I learned then what a mother should be, And hoped that one day others would see a part of you in me. When in my teenage years you taught Me to seek and find the God I sought. You were a listening ear and a close comrade, Gave me strength and encouragement when I was sad. You helped me to press toward the dreams I made, The memories of these times we shared will never fade. I learned then what a friend should be, And hoped that one day others would see a part of you in me. In later years I still need your guiding hand, In knowing what’s best to do and help me understand, To always believe in the man I love And to seek strength and guidance from the Lord we love. I learned then what a wife should be And hoped that one day others would see a part of you in me. Through all my life you’ve been a perfect example, I know you must have been Heaven’s sample. No poem could tell you, no words express How much you’ve taught me and brought me happiness. Mother, Thanks for your constant example of living. I Love You, Pam

Submitted by Connie Wiggers Rockcastle Homemakers

Trigg County

Written by her daughter, Pam  

June Sacred Retreats of the Soul

Enter, the door is open Through prayer Walks in the glistening snow, with the crisp air on our face. A cup of coffee and a good book, A walk in the woods after the rain The smoothing sound of a running brook. Aromas and sounds that take us back Through time, awakes pleasant memories And brings them out of the recesses of our mind. Music to wrap around us like a cloak, To bend and shape our moods with each note. To feel with our hands, to shape and caress the soft moist Soil of Mother Earth in the spring, To love it, plant it, and watch the seeds grow. To bring forth food for our body and soul. To watch with thankfulness and joy a child sleeping, Takes us through the door to a sacred retreat. Make time, take time, to walk through the door, For the sake of our souls for only the divine can make us whole.

Sarah Ford Challengers Homemakers

Crittenden County