Sailboats, Dreams and Following God's Will

How often have you thought about running through a hose this week? Remember when we used to do that when we were kids? I'd have no problem stripping to my underware like I used to, but the thought of slipping and falling down has managed to restrain me. Boy do I hate to fall! I always say I would probably never hit the ground because I'd be hovering like a helicopter from flapping my arms and legs so fast.

My cousin Ted used to come spend a week or so at our farm when I was a children. We had a wee small stream at the back tobacco shed where the 'barn owl who ate childrens' lived. The only thing that could make me spend any time at that part of the creek were the matchstick sailboats Ted used to make and float over the little dam (3" hi at best) I used to wonder what people thought about them when they bounced out of our creek and into the ocean. I trully believed they made it the whole way to the ocean. I longed to follow them on their adventurous journey to the sea. Actually, my cousin Dawn and I took tobacco lathes from the barn and assorted other lumber and had a raft well under way until Rod, the grumpy big brother came upon us landlocked sailers. So much for following the matchbox sailboats to the sea.

How we were going to find the river I don't know, let alone get over Holtwood and Safe Harbor dams. The important thing is to START! I have never been one to think a plan through to the last detail. It's much more fun to START, and see where the river winds. It's that way with the Tea Room. I can't help but wonder where I will find my next adventure. God will lead me and I will try to follow His path. My problem has always been waiting for the next part of His plan to unfold. It's sort of like that great movie that's out now 'Pirates of the Carribean'. My dear friend and fellow adventurer Jenny Emmons and I have been smitten by this fun movie. Out of all my many friends and aquaintences she and I are probably the most alike in having a romantic's heart when it comes to life. We LOVE thinking about pirates and the high seas, Indian warriors, cowboys and cattle drives. Gypsies and firelight. Knights and white horses (or big black Friesian stallions)

I never give my age a thought when I am dreaming. I hope I never do. Maybe because I was in pain for so long I held onto my dreams longer than most. I couldn't do the things I would have liked for real, but nothing was stopping my imagination from going there. How do people live that don't have a vivid imagination or are so fearful to make a decision that they are paralized and do nothing? How sad to have been given a terrific mind by God and not trust Him enough to step out in faith. When God closes the door to the Tea Room for me, I pray He will have planted the seeds to my next adventure and I can say goodbye to all of you knowing there is more for me to do for Him. I pray He will choose the one I turn the key to the Tea Room over to and that they will love this farm as much as I do, and will continue this ministry of love.
I pray that the dreamer is being awakened and that the way will be clear.

Boy, where did that come from? See how these things happen? I have no control over what I write. It's true. I never know what is going to appear when I sit down at the puter. Today I was hot from sitting at Savannah's horse show. Kaboom! That's where the hose story came from. And so it goes ;-D

Entertaining Angels Unaware

One Thanksgiving a few years ago we had the most delightful guest at our
dinner table. I met her one day at Mummert's Carpet Shop. It used to be
Lynn's Grocery Store, in New Oxford, Pa. Greg Mummert, a neat young man who was
a fan of mine, opened his store there and asked me to come work for him.
Thought I might be able to help people make color choices etc. Sort of a
decorator.

One day the door opened and a tiny little old lady came bursting
in. She stormed around a few minutes and then she yelled "Where the H--- are
the potatoes?" After I picked myself off the floor from laughing, I
explained it was no longer a grocery store, and the only potatoes in here
were growing in Greg's ears. We got to talking, and I found out she was a
horse woman. She was a trainer and horse dealer when she was younger, (she
was 92 at the time). We talked horses for a while then she said she was
alone now. No children, husband or any relatives. The only people that keep
in touch with her are the Budweiser Horse crew. They come and get her any
time they are in the area. They call her about once a month she said.

I asked her what she was doing for Thanksgiving. "Nothing" she said. I asked
her if she would be my guest at our house. Her blue eyes twinkled and she
said she'd LOVE to come. I said my husband would come for her, but she
ruffled her feathers and said she could still DRIVE!!! I told her how to
get here and she left. She had on a wild looking old red coat with a huge
white fur collar and a purple checked scarf. She had on short black anklets
and for the life of me I couldn't help but think she was one of the most
beautiful women I had ever seen.

I never expected her to come, didn't even tell my kids about her. Imagine my suprise and delight when she pulled into the driveway in her rickety old car. She never even knocked on the door. She made a bee line out to the barn to see our horses first. How she loved them. That would have been Thanksgiving enough for her.
(Once, I brought old John Snyder from the Brethren Home out just so he could SMELL horses once more before he died!!!) I had shrimp cocktails and she ate two whole
servings herself. Thank God I had an extra made up. What a great time we
had. She was so entertaining. You know, I can't even remember her name, but
I can see her flashing eyes and that smile.

She told us she takes her mailbox in every night. That way, when the mailman comes, if it isn't out he will know something is wrong and get help. She was afraid of laying there and dying on the floor. Imagine living like that. So alone. She's gone now, but I will never forget the Thanksgiving we spent together. She gave me a
box of Budweiser Clydesdale playing cards for a hostess gift. Great memory.
Great lady. I always think of 'entertaining angels unawares' when I think
of her.