Category: Our Neighbors

My Dad’s Hands

Bedtime came, we were settling down,
I was holding one of my lads.
As I grasped him so tight, I saw a strange sight:
My hands. . .they looked like my dad’s!
I remember them well, those old gnarled hooks,
there was always a cracked nail or two.
And thanks to a hammer that strayed from its mark,
his thumb was a beautiful blue!
They were rough, I remember, incredibly tough,
as strong as a carpenter’s vice.
But holding a scared little boy at night,
they seemed to me awfully nice!
The sight of those hands – how impressive it was
in the eyes of his little boy.
Other dads’ hands were cleaner, it seemed
(the effects of their office employ).
I gave little thought in my formative years
of the reason for Dad’s raspy mitts:
The love in the toil, the dirt and the oil,
rusty plumbing that gave those hands fits!
Thinking back, misty-eyed, and thinking ahead,
when one day my time is done.
The torch of love in my own wrinkled hands
will pass on to the hands of my son.
I don’t mind the bruises, the scars here and there
or the hammer that just seemed to slip.
I want most of all when my son takes my hand,
to feel that love lies in the grip.

David Kettler

Talent is God-given; be humble.
Fame is man-given; be thankful.
Conceit is self-given; be careful.

John Wooden

God’s Helpers

God could not be in every place
With loving hands to help erase
The teardrops from each baby’s face,
And so He thought of mother.

He could not send us here alone
And leave us to a fate unknown;
Without providing for His own,
The outstretched arms of mother.

God could not watch us night and day
And kneel beside our crib to pray,
Or kiss our little aches away;
And so He sent us mother.

And when our childhood days began,
He simply could not take command.
That’s why He placed our tiny hand
Securely into mother’s.

The days of youth slipped quickly by,
Life’s sun rose higher in the sky.
Full grown were we, yet ever nigh
To love us still, was mother.

And when life’s span of years shall end,
I know that God will gladly send,
To welcome home her child again,
That ever-faithful mother.

–George W. Wiseman

“My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.”

Dalai Lama

I am sad to report that long-time Huletts resident, Mrs. Lois Anne Galbraith, passed away on April 12, 2012.

Mrs. Galbraith was a trustee of the Mountain Grove Memorial Church and volunteered countless hours in the service of the community.

Here is Mrs. Galbraith’s obituary.

“May God support us all the day long, till the shades lengthen and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and our work is done. Then in His mercy may He give us a safe lodging, and a holy rest and peace at the last.”

Wishing everyone a very happy Easter!

Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not sleep,
but we shall all be changed, in a moment, In the
twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet
shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible,
and we shall be changed.

I Corinthians 15:51-52
King James Translation

I am sad to report that long-time Huletts resident, Mrs. Catherine Seitz, passed away on March 22, 2012.

I have many fond memories of Mrs. Seitz and know she will be missed by all who knew her.

Here is the online tribute to Mrs. Seitz.

“May God support us all the day long, till the shades lengthen and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and our work is done. Then in His mercy may He give us a safe lodging, and a holy rest and peace at the last.”