Years ago these two cute little girls were the best of friends. They did not think about race or color, just that they really enjoyed each other’s company. Makes me wonder why it is so hard for adults to to the same. We need to work on Dr. King’s dream and make it become a reality.
Sunday is Father’s day. I was blessed with a loving caring father and mother in my family. We did not have much money, so raising a garden was not a hobby, like it is for me, it was a necessity. We always had a large beautiful garden. The farmer over the hill let us use his tractor to plow and turn over the soil each year. Then we would get the disc to break it up. I loved running barefoot through the rich black soil. We raised chickens and the chicken manure was recycled into the garden which enriched the soil and made wonderful vegetables. I will always be grateful to him for showing me these gardening skills. He died in 1982 at the age of 70, but his legacy lives on.
Racism, hate, and discrimination are all learned from the example of adults who show these attitudes. Children don’t think about skin color or ethnic roots. They just see one another as God sees us, full of love and acceptance. Perhaps adults could learn a lesson from their children.
Passing on Kindness and Love should be the goal of every parent. In a world where issues seem to divide us, let us pass on the light of God’s love.
As one body dies one is born
Rekindling the spirit within.
The cycle never ceases to go on
Passing on the light of God to our children.
Some choose to pass on evil and hate
The infection spreads like the flu.
But even this infection you can abate
When the love of God is within you.
As we live our lives from day to day
Let God’s light dwell in your soul.
Knowing this world will be a better place
If you shed all that hate and turmoil.
Think about what you pass on to your children
Is it love or divisive hate?
What spirit will be reincarnated from you//
Think carefully before it’s too late.
Once upon a time this goat shed held children;
A place for learning where my father taught.
Filled with desks, chairs, and cute Amish youngins’
All eight grades in one room was quite a lot.
King School //a microcosm of learning
Shaped teachers, preachers, and cute farmers’ wives.
For some, eight grades met their need for farming;
Where they worked the land the rest of their lives.
Time moved on and so have all the students;
Who never imagined what was in store.
For their little one room school house wouldn’t
Last forever // in time // would be no more
A shed for goats in the shell that is left;
Sheds no more light on America’s best.
Photos: Dwight L. Roth
Lillian at d’Verse, asked us to think about the many meanings of the word shed; and write a poem of our choice. It is sad to see the school where my father started his teaching career turn into a goat shed. I attempted to write a sonnet expressing some of those feelings.