Think on Good Things exists to simply share positive, funny, and uplifting stories and information of people, places, and things. Thinking on Good Things can provide a boost for any day! I hope you enjoy!
A few days ago, a friend of mine walked into a local preschool on a needed errand. As she entered the building, a little girl about three or four years old walked by. She was wearing a princess dress, a costume really, and bright, glittery boots. It was obvious she loved her little outfit and felt very dressed up, confident, and happy. In fact, she was proudly twisting just a bit back and forth to swish her pretty skirt first this way and that. Smiling and looking up sweetly at my friend, the little girl wanted to make sure her pretty outfit was noticed.
Bending down, my friend smiled back at the little girl and told her, “I like your dress”.
The little girl beamed happily and crooked her little finger, beckoning my friend to lean closer to her. “I’ll tell you a secret”, the bright, happy child whispered.
“What is it?”, my friend inquired.
Dramatically, the little girl leaned forward. “I have a bathing suit on under my dress!”, she said proudly.
“A bathing suit in January!?”, my friend replied, “Why are you wearing a bathing suit???”
The little girl cocked her head to one side, lifted her little finger up to emphasize her point, and with twinkly eyes and a bright smile she enthusiastically said, “Just in case!” Then she moved on down the hall with her class.
When my friend told me the story, I asked, “Just in case what???”
“I have no idea,” she said, “but whatever it is, she’s ready for it!”
I’ve thought a lot about this little girl. So often, we spend our days thinking about the responsibilities facing us, of the practical things we need to accomplish, and even sometimes of sadnesses and the worries and cares of the day.
What if, instead, we started each day with a happy “just in case” thought? What if we excitedly prepared for unexpected joys and searched for the blessings in each day?
My Pap-pa was born in the little community of Rex, Arkansas…..a place I had never heard of until after his passing. We never really talked about where he was born…in fact, throughout his life he wasn’t even completely certain what year he was born…..but that’s another pretty good story for another time! 🙂
My Mother, always the explorer, decided that we needed to find out more about her daddy’s birthplace….so on a warm summer day about 24 years ago, we did just that.
After a little research, Mother and I drove up a dirt road in Van Buren County to the small mountain community of Rex. I was feeling doubtful that we would be able to locate any information about Pap-pa’s birthplace since over 80 years had passed….but goodness! I should have known better. First, I feel very confident that Mother had already prayed for success that day….and the Lord listens. Second, when Mother was determined she was determined…and so we drove along until we passed a house with some folks out in the yard. Pulling over – Mother got out, introduced herself, and talked with them a bit. The gentleman gave her directions to an older couple’s home just down the road a ways who had lived in the area all their lives, saying they would possibly have the answers Mother was looking for……
So……onward we went…pulling up in the couple’s driveway just after lunchtime… They were such sweet people (somewhere in their 90’s), and listened carefully as Mother explained why we were there. They were eager and happy to help in any way they could. I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t remember their names. I so wish I did. For the purpose of this story, I will call them Mr. and Mrs. Smith.
Mr. Smith assured us he knew exactly where my great-grandparents’ house once stood – the house where my Pap-pa was born. He remembered it well from his childhood. In fact, he told us, he could also take us to the homeplace of my great-great grandparents as well. Mother and I were grateful – and excited to see both places.
I thought this meant we would drive, but that was definitely not the case…. Starting out by crawling under a barbed wire fence, we walked quite a ways through several cow pastures, crawling under a few more fences before we came to an obvious rock foundation of an old home…..sitting quietly and alone – far removed from roads or towns. A few burned boards, almost completely rotted away, were all that was left of the structure itself. Mr. Smith assured us that this was the place, telling us that Ike and Sarah (I was surprised and impressed that he knew and remembered the names of my great-grandparents) had built the home and lived there when they started their family. However, after their first son, Woodrow and later their second, my Pap-pa (Clifford) were born, the house burned, causing them to move down off the mountain never to return. The abandoned remains of the house had been left to the elements and the animals for over 8 decades.
As I walked around inside the old foundation of the little house, I found some small broken bits of china and stoneware – remnants of dishes and bowls belonging to a great grandmother I do not remember. I gathered as many as I could find and put them in my pocket, taking them back through the pastures with me – this time traveling a longer, different route to visit the site of my great-great grandparents’ home place as well. It was so interesting and such fun.
When we finally returned to Mother’s van, I wrapped the little pieces up in an old, crumpled paper towel Mother had in the car…..later placing the little bundle in a bottom dresser drawer when I got home….and that’s where they stayed for another 2+ decades.
One autumn a few years ago, while attending a Laura Ingalls Wilder celebration dinner in Mansfield, MO – a benefit auction item caught my attention. One of Mrs. Wilder’s plates had shattered, and the museum staff had taken the broken pieces to a jeweler in Springfield, MO who had turned them into beautiful jewelry pieces. I quickly thought of the broken pieces of my great-grandmother’s dishes I had saved all these years….and decided to see what could be done with them.
The next spring, on my Mother’s 78th birthday, I took a day off from work to spend it with her. We went out to eat, shopping, and sightseeing…..and to Gerzens’ Jewelry in Springfield, Missouri. John Gerzen, the jeweler, and Mother worked together to pick the pieces she liked and then tried different patterns for putting them together. They narrowed the possible choices down to 2 or 3….and we left to give her time to think about it.
Unfortunately, the necklace was soon forgotten. Mother began her fight with cancer and other plans drifted to the background…
The broken bits, still in that same ancient paper towel, went back to the dresser drawer….until this year. Several weeks ago, I took them back to Gerzen’s Jewelry in Springfield, MO and finally the now over 100 year old pieces were made into a necklace….
I was so excited when I got the call that the necklace was finished. I couldn’t wait to see the finished piece…..and I was so pleased with Mr. Gerzen’s work. To me, it’s so unique and so pretty.
The best part though, is that when I wear it (as I did today), I think of my Mother….and my Pap-pa, and my great-grandmother Sarah….
In January of this year, I was sound asleep at home one night when I received word that my precious Mother had broken her leg and was being transported by ambulance to a local hospital. Having just recovered from COVID, I was a little wobbly as I hurriedly threw on some clothes and rushed to my car to make the hour-long drive to Mother. When I got to the emergency room, they had the leg stabilized and her pain controlled….but explained that Mother would need specialty surgery as soon as possible. The doctor said she would be transported to a bigger facility in Little Rock first thing the next morning. Mother and I settled in for the night – grateful (during heavy days of COVID) that we could be together as we waited.
The next morning when the EMT’s came to pick Mother up for transport, I told them I would be following all the way. I wasn’t exactly certain where we were going – so I knew I wanted to keep that ambulance in my sight on the drive….and I wanted Mother to know I would be close at hand. I planned on diligently following right behind. They loaded Mother into the ambulance, and I told her I would see her in Little Rock and that I would be praying the trip went well.
It’s funny how sometimes, even as an adult, we can feel so small, and lonely, and scared – like a little girl wishing desperately for someone to reach out and help us – but knowing we have to go on, to face whatever situation has presented itself, relying on our Lord to see us through.
That’s definitely how I felt as the ambulance carrying my Mother pulled out onto highway 62 just after 9:00 that Wednesday morning with me following. Less than one mile into the trip, the “low tire” warning light came on – indicating that my right rear tire was low. This immediately added stress to an already difficult morning – because I (of course) didn’t have time to stop and find someone to help me with the tire – I wanted to stay with that ambulance…..but I also knew I didn’t need to drive on a tire going flat! I didn’t know what to do or who to call, so I pondered it over and said a quick prayer….
As our tiny convoy headed through Alpena, Arkansas, I called Ozark Auto Body in Harrison about 15 minutes away. I quickly explained the situation and how I didn’t want to lose the ambulance, asking if they possibly had a pump to air up my tires. They assured me they would “be ready and watching for me”. I felt immediate relief, because I know the team of folks at Ozark Auto Body. They’re top notch – always incredibly busy (because they’re good!) and always providing reliable, honest service for their customers.
I was still concerned, however….. You see, Ozark Auto Body is located on the OLD highway that travels through downtown Harrison. The ambulance, I knew, would turn left and take the more direct route on the bypass – and I didn’t want to lose them. I had no choice of course – so I sped up a bit and passed the ambulance, trying to gain a little ground. I had gotten just a little bit ahead when I came to the intersection of Highway 65 and old Business 65. I stayed straight onto the old highway and in less than a minute I had my blinker on to turn right into Ozark Auto Body’s crowded lot.
Let me stop here a minute to say that I have never seen Ozark Auto Body on a weekday when it wasn’t busy – and this day was no exception. In fact, it’s often difficult to even find a parking place. On this morning however, as I flipped on my turn signal (before I had even turned off the highway), I saw Donnie running out of the building with an air tank in his hand….waving me to a place easy to pull in and easy to get back out on the road. Busy as they were, they truly had been watching for me. I had barely stopped when he started airing up that back right tire. While he was working with it, someone else was checking my other tires – and literally in just a few moments all four tires were aired up and safely ready to go – they quickly waved me on as I tried to thank them. I hurriedly pulled back onto the road and was on my way. It felt like a pit stop at Daytona – quick, efficient, and incredibly impressive.
I headed on, turned left to cut back over to the bypass, and pulled out literally right behind the ambulance as if it had all been perfectly planned. Isn’t God good?
I will forever be grateful to Donnie and the entire team at Ozark Auto Body. They have helped me out many times through the years, but none will ever stand out as much as that day. I teared up when I saw him waving me in that morning – pausing his very busy work day to have the air tank ready to go, to watch for me to arrive, and be ready to provide help. That lost little girl feeling went away as I was reminded that there are kind, wonderful people willing to give freely of their time just to help others.
That is an everyday hero – a true example of a glimpse of excellence.
I grew up going to cemetery “Decoration Days” with my parents to clean and decorate the graves of loved ones each spring. It is a time to pause and remember – to pay honor to family members we have lost.
Most of my grandparents, great grandparents, and even great-great grandparents are buried within 35 miles of where I was born. I’ve always thought that was kinda cool. In one cemetery, so many of my relatives are buried there that I have lost count. Many of the gravestones are old and have been unreadable for many, many years. When I was a child, I would trace my fingers in the indentions in the stones trying to decipher the names and the dates.
During the past few years, I have watched videos of individuals who safely cleaned gravestones. They peaked my interest – and I wanted to give it a try. First and foremost, I wanted to be sure that I knew what I was doing so that I wouldn’t cause damage. After all, some of these tombstones are over 100 years old!
One year ago this month, I contacted a Facebook friend, Terry Sanders, who had recently posted about this process and he generously provided great information and advice. I purchased my supplies and headed out to get to work.
The gravestones I chose had many decades of buildup, so I knew that multiple trips would probably be required – and I was correct. I was happy to find that overall it is a pretty simple process – but what an absolutely amazing difference it made! I plan to go back next spring and expect to see even greater improvements then, but I am so excited to show you all the results!
I really enjoyed this project! It was a way to honor past generations of my family, and it restored these beautiful monuments much closer to their original state. If you’re interested in the process and products I used, keep reading!
Products and Supplies Needed: gloves, mask, soft toothbrush, and Wet and Forget (comes in several options – the concentrate can be cheaper, but the “Wet and Forget Outdoor Ready to Use comes premixed with its own sprayer. Both are good choices based on your preference!)
Process
Choose a day that’s cool (below 80 degrees F is best), cloudy, or overcast to slow product evaporation.
Avoid using on windy days to assure the best surface coverage.
Wipe the surface gently but thoroughly with a dry, soft cloth to remove any dust or debris. For best results, surfaces should be clean and completely dry.
Wearing gloves, long sleeves, goggles or safety glasses, and a mask (to avoid skin or lung contact with chemicals), spray to saturate the surface thoroughly.
That’s it! No rinsing needed. Leave it and let it work.
I went back in (approximately) six weeks and applied more product. Then, I checked back a couple of months later and used a SOFT toothbrush to gently remove some remaining algae. Be very careful – the stones can be easily scratched.
As so many people traverse the countrysides this month searching excitedly for the brilliant colors of autumn, it joyfully reminds each of us that hope, joy, and wonder still abound….that despite all of the stresses and demands of daily life – we continue to reach out, to look for the beauty and blessings surrounding us every day, to celebrate the joys and wonder of our world. These blessings are ours to be enjoyed freely. We must only seek them out and celebrate them!
If you live in Arkansas or southwest Missouri, making the drive to Maplewood Cemetery in Harrison, Arkansas is time well spent each autumn. A well-known Arkansas treasure, the quiet, always beautiful cemetery is crowded and busy during the fall as people from miles around visit to see the beautiful foliage. The colors are beautiful right now, so if you haven’t visited before, this is a good time to head to Harrison. The images here were taken at Maplewood this week. If you can’t visit, please “walk” through the beauty here by viewing these photos. I so very much hope you enjoy them!
If you would like to learn more about Maplewood Cemetery, click here to read an interesting online article by Deb Peterson about the history of this incredibly beautiful place! I was delighted to find out that the beauty of Maplewood was due to the efforts of dedicated ladies in the 1920’s with foresight and vision we all benefit from today. What a lovely gift to all of us! What a lovely legacy!
I’ve heard the story of my birth for as long as I can remember…not that it was all that remarkable or out of the ordinary…it was just that my Mother liked telling the story and I loved hearing it. I was expected to make my appearance toward the end of April, 1967. On the afternoon of Friday March 31st, Mother drove to town for a checkup at the doctor’s office, a hair appointment at the beauty shop, and a few other errands. However, when Dr. Magie examined her, he said she needed to head on over to the hospital immediately because she was about to have her baby. Mother laughed, thinking he was joking. After all, I wasn’t expected for 3 more weeks – she had felt no labor pains – he was scheduled to go out of town for a short hunting trip (planned so he could be back for my birth), and she was headed to the beauty shop! She truly believed he was kidding with her. In fact, she told him she had a hair appointment and asked if it would be all right if she got her hair fixed and then head to the hospital. He assured her she needed to go straight there – so she called Daddy and Mam-ma to come join her, then settled in nervously and excitedly to wait. Dr. Magie was right – I was born just after 4:00 am the next morning, an April Fool’s baby who fooled her family by arriving a few weeks early.
As a little girl, I always smiled a big smile when Mother told me this story. I loved thinking I had played a clever trick on my family with my surprise arrival.
The hospital where I was born closed shortly after my birth when a new hospital was built across town. The beautiful old building sat up on a hill empty and abandoned for years. One day when I was around 8 years old, Mother drove me up that hill and around to the back of the deserted building. She said she wanted to show me something. We got out of the car and had walked only a few steps when Mother pointed up to the unique round balcony on the 3rd floor. “I walked out on that balcony the night before you were born and stood for the longest time praying over your life”, Mother said. “I just wanted you to know that – that I prayed earnestly for you before you were even here.”
Photo credit: Betty Patterson (Thank you, Betty.)
Even as a child, I was humbled by what she said – it seemed like such an important thing to me that day….and it still does. Every time I remember her words, I feel so honored, so blessed by her gift.
I just did the math – I have been on this earth a total of 20,290 days since my April 1 birth all those years ago – and I feel absolutely and 100% completely confident that my Mother has prayed for me on every single one of those days. What an amazing blessing!!!
So, my precious mother prayed for me before I was born and every day since then. I have never lived one single day on this earth without being covered by her prayers. Not one single day. What a difference, what an impact this has had on my life.
It made me thoughtful recently, thinking how I would miss those prayers someday when she is no longer with me…..
…but several weeks ago, Mother was talking to me and thanking me for helping her with some things. “I pray about your future”, she said, “and I’ve prayed that when you get older and perhaps need help, that there will be someone there to help you like you’ve helped me.”
She has prayed for my future! Those thousands of prayers have included specific, thoughtful petitions regarding challenges we all face in this life.
I firmly believe our wonderful, loving Heavenly Father hears our prayers – and I am so grateful that He does. I also couldn’t be more humbled or thankful for the prayers of a Godly mother, devotedly approaching the King of Kings on my behalf.
Thank you, Mother. I love you so very much. I am forever grateful.
I am continually amazed and grateful for the privilege of a relationship with our Savior, Jesus Christ.
Reading in the Old Testament reminds me that, in order to receive forgiveness or make requests to God, people had to gather sacrifices, bring those sacrifices to the priests and then present their sins, their requests, etc. to God through that priest…..It was quite an effort and had to be done routinely.
BUT, because of Jesus’ loving sacrifice, we don’t have to do all of that! WE CAN SPEAK TO GOD DIRECTLY, ANY TIME WE WANT – AND HE HEARS US! We can ask for forgiveness for mistakes we have made, we can make our requests, we can ask Him questions, we can even talk to Him about our day. Think about that!!! Wow!!!
Often when I’m busy, I am tempted to neglect my prayer life….then I remember the unbelievable, overwhelmingly incredible privilege it is to pray…..and it helps me remember what a priority prayer is…
We are blessed to have the opportunity of relationship with Christ.
Hospitals are unique places – in both positive and negative ways. I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals the past couple of years due to an ongoing family medical situation and those experiences have given me so many Glimpses of Excellence to share…. Here’s one of them..
One afternoon recently, I stepped into a hospital elevator and smiled at the young woman inside. She seemed quiet, pleasant, and….tired. I saw on her badge that she worked for the hospital food service, pushing a loaded warmer cart to deliver meals to hundreds of patients – then returning afterwards to their rooms to pick up all the empty trays and dishes. I thought about how tired she must be at the end of her work day and wondered how many steps registered routinely on her FitBit.
“You have a hard job”, I commented. “Oh no, I have an easy job.” she said quickly, smiling sweetly….then her smile slowly faded and she became visibly thoughtful. “Well, actually sometimes it’s really hard going into some of those rooms”, she said quietly.
I pondered her words for the rest of the day….realizing how very hard that could be….. Her quiet comment made me thoughtful. I’m often a tiny bit nervous walking into a room where strangers are present. I might even pause, collect myself, and take a breath before opening the door. This young lady not only has to brace herself to walk into a room full of strangers over and over every day…. She faces much greater difficulties – because she is walking into rooms where people are very sick, perhaps dying, some all alone with no family or friends…. It would be a difficult thing to face….but she does it over and over every single day.
It also made me think about Irene. Irene and her sister Miss. B clean rooms on the hospital wing where my mother was a patient for many weeks this year. Irene is a rare gem, a bright glimpse of excellence, who faithfully does her job day after day, facing the same challenges as the young lady I met in the elevator. She is a tiny little thing with a bright smile and a big voice. She does her job well, cleaning with diligence and dedication – noticing details and always doing her best. She doesn’t just mop the floor – she scrubs it clean. That hospital room always felt so much better when she was finished – cleaner, brighter, and even more hopeful and cheerful.
That, in itself, is a wonderful example of excellence – but Irene always does so much more. First of all, she diligently makes it a point to learn the patient’s names, as well as family members who stay with them. That’s no small task! She learned not only my Mother’s name, but mine, our friends, and our family members who visited as well! Irene greeted us with sincere warmth each time she saw us. Every single day when she entered Mother’s hospital room, she would enthusiastically exclaim, “Hello, Mrs. Jean! How are you today?” with her beautiful accent and a broad smile on her face. She would greet me as well (by name!) and would remember details of past conversations, following up on discussions, sharing her own life, and showing genuine interest in and concern for both of us. We looked forward to her visits every day.
There is an old saying I love that says to “bloom where you are planted”. Irene is definitely blooming – and like all beautiful flowers she is brightening the lives of many, providing beauty, encouragement, strength, and joy.
We should all try to do the same.
Thank you, Irene. I am very grateful for the care you showed and the encouragement you provided. I will never forget you.
Anybody out there like fresh peaches? I know I sure do…..but I will never look at them the same way after today…..because I read an article by Cindy Lubbering, a home-town friend I have known for many years. She has written a beautiful, meaningful, and thought-provoking piece paying tribute to her parents….. but also providing a wonderful challenge for each of us…I contacted Cindy this afternoon and asked her if I could post her story, wanting to share with others, and she has graciously agreed. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. If so, please comment and let her know – or send me a message and I will pass it along.
The Peach Tree
Fresh Peaches
The Seeds We Sow
By Guest Writer Cindy Lubbering
When you first glance at these pictures you might think, ”What’s the big deal? Nothing special about a few peaches and a peach tree.” But to me, the tree and peaches have a far deeper and more profound meaning.
This peach tree grows just over the fence next to my parent’s home. It has grown in the spot where we tossed food scraps for years. Obviously, a peach seed was among those scraps at one time and happened to take root.
Frankly, I didn’t even realize the tree was fruit bearing until Gregg called it to my attention lately. He brought in the sweetest peaches I have ever tasted. Gregg told me that he picked them from my parent’s peach tree.
The tree that they never realized they planted.
Now this peach tree has been slowly growing through the years and finally bore fruit.
The tree got me to thinking about other kinds of seeds my parents unknowingly planted throughout the years.
They planted seeds about Jesus in the many, many three year olds that attended their Sunday school class for the more than forty years that they taught.
They planted seeds in the community, living and working among friends and neighbors who sometimes needed a helping hand.
They planted seeds within our own family by living Christian lives and being examples of always doing what is good and honorable for my sister and I and their grandchildren.
My parents are both gone, but the seeds they planted are still producing fruit just as the peach tree is that grows near their backyard.
Let us all be mindful that the seeds we plant today will one day bear fruit, good or bad.
Galatians 6:7
Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that he will also reap.
Mel Tillis stories are far better told in person and not in written form – because Mel, despite his lifelong stutter, had an absolutely incredible understanding of the art of communication and he used it beautifully. His vocal inflections, his timing, his choice of words, his facial expressions and his body language made his stories simply priceless. Since I can’t tell you this story in person (Believe it or not, I can do a fairly good impression 🙂 ), I hope those of you who are familiar with Mel will be able “hear” him as you read.
Mel was one of the first Nashville celebrities to build his own theater in Branson. He was also one of the first to copy the practice established by local Branson shows of meeting and greeting the audience in an autograph line after each performance.
Always a gracious host, he cared about his fans and would pose for pictures, shake hands, and visit briefly with anyone who took the time to stand in the (always) long lines to meet him.
One night in August, 20 years ago, I went to see Mel’s show at his Branson theater, sitting in my favorite row (L) about halfway back in the crowd. After the show, I waved to Mel as I was leaving, not wanting to disturb the autograph line, but wanting to wish him a late greeting for his birthday that had passed just a few days before. (It was a big one!). He smiled and waved me over for a hug. As I got closer he grinned mischievously and said, “Heyyyyy, Lisa! Did you know I’m goin’ on 80 years old?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several people in the autograph line turn and stare in surprise at this news.
I rolled my eyes and said, “Mel, you’re 70!” I heard a few chuckles. He looked at me with a sincere face but a small hint of a grin and said, “I know that, Lisa….dat’s a-goin’ on 80!” Everyone started laughing. Even in the autograph line, he was working the crowd, delivering humor and bringing joy.
It takes enormous talent and determination to be a successful country music singer or song writer. Mel achieved both…….but even more impressively, he was a gifted, talented, intelligent, creative, and intuitive entertainer.
Today, on what would have been his 90th birthday, I’m thinking about so many stories and smiles. I am blessed to have known him.
