Saturday, June 30, 2018

Trouble On The Prairie




"The real things haven't changed.  It is still best
to be honest and truthful; to make the most of what we have;
to be happy with simple pleasures; and have courage
when things go wrong."
Laura Ingalls Wilder



Laura Ingalls Wilder
American author
(1867-1957)




I am sorry to have to end this month's blog on a sad note,
but I have just learned from the Laura Ingalls Wilder Society's
monthly newsletter that the American Library Association
recently voted to rename the Laura Ingalls Wilder Award
to the "Children's Literature Legacy Award."

According to the president of the children's department,
Nina Lindsay, the "Little House" series of books,
"reflect dated cultural attitudes towards indigenous people
and people of color that contradict modern acceptance,
celebration, and understanding of diverse communities."

In other words, Laura Ingalls Wilder, prolific author
and American pioneer girl, has become the latest victim
of the ongoing 21st century revisionist history movement.

As far as I am concerned, the action taken on the part
of the American Library Association makes them no better
than the ignorant fools who recently desecrated the 
 monuments of Confederate war heroes in the South,
in an effort to erase, "The lost cause of the Confederacy."

The American Library Association asserts that Laura's books
"do not align with their values."  This is just more politically correct jargon, 
 along with phrases like, "culturally insensitive" and "diverse communities".

Laura Ingalls Wilder is considered by generations of Americans
who grew up reading and loving her "Little House" books
as one of our most beloved national treasures.


Through Laura's eyes, I was able to experience what it
was like to grow up in the Big Woods of Wisconsin, and to travel
in a covered wagon into the wilds of Indian Territory, and later
to Minnesota where the Ingalls first lived in a dugout on Plum Creek.
I felt the sorrow of the Ingalls family after Laura's older sister,
Mary, went blind, and later, the excitement of going West again
with the family to their final home in De Smet, South Dakota,
where Laura would one day meet and marry Almanzo Wilder.






  One of the heroes in the book, "Little House On The Prairie" was an Osage
warrior  named Soldat du Chene, who saved Laura and her family
and the other settlers in Indian Territory from being massacred
by other Indians who were angry to find the white settlers on
their land.  Another admirable character was Dr. Tan, a black doctor,
who saved the family's lives after they were stricken with malaria.


An illustration from the chapter, "Fever "n" Ague" in the
book, "Little House On The Prairie".  The Ingalls family all came
down with malaria after being bitten by mosquitoes carrying the disease.
  Dr. Tan, a black physician who worked among the Indians,
 was passing by the Ingalls cabin when Jack, the family's pet bull dog,
 ran out to meet him on the trail and pleaded for him to come into the house.  
 Dr. Tan stayed with the family helping them to get better with doses 
of quinine and was later joined by Mrs. Scott, a neighbor, who
came to help nurse them back to health.


  In the book, "The Long Winter" which 
tells how the residents of De Smet, South Dakota
survived several months of almost non-stop raging blizzards, 
 it was an old Sioux Indian who came to warn the townspeople about
the bad weather heading their way.

 Furthermore, aside from the minstrel show in the
book, "Little Town On The Prairie" which reflects the
cultural norms of the time, I have never read anything 
 really offensive or degrading in Laura's books.
 She did, however, relate the story of the cold-blooded murder
of a homesteader by claim jumpers in the book,
"By The Shores Of Silver Lake".
This was yet another reflection of the times she was
living in and how the government's offer of homestead land
on the remote prairies attracted both farmers and felons alike.



Laura autographs her books for her fans at 
Brown Brothers Book Store in Springfield, Missouri
on November 17, 1952




Laura's stories are an important part of America's history mainly
because she was an eyewitness to life on the western frontier. 
However,  her "Little House" books were also written as a memoir of
her loving and close-knit family and are full of lessons about
 faith and courage and having the determination to succeed in life.
Laura has always been an inspiration to me.
A true kindred spirit.
It breaks my heart that she has been so discredited in this way.



Laura (right) and her sisters Mary (center)  and Carrie (left)  in a photograph taken
after the Hard Winter of 1880-81.



"As you read my stories of long ago I hope you will remember that
things truly worthwhile and that will give you happiness are the same
now as they were then.  It is not the things you have that make you happy.
It is love and kindness and helping each other and just plain being good."
-Laura Ingalls Wilder



Summer Fun With The Kewpies!







A belated birthday salute to 
American cartoonist Rose O'Neill
featuring her adorable little Kewpies!


Illustrator Rose Cecil O'Neill
June 25, 1874-April 6, 1944




 Good Housekeeping Magazine Cover
(June 1914)



Rose O'Neill was the first successful female illustrator in America
and highest paid artist of her time.  She was also a strong believer in
women being given the right to vote in this nation, as 
reflected on the vintage postcard below:


Kewpie Promoting The Women's Suffrage Movement
(1914)



"Summertime...and the livin' is easy..."




Kewpie Camp-Out
(1914)





Kewpie Bride And Groom
(1915)






A collection of antique German all-bisque Kewpies






Kewpie Comics
(1935)




Rose O'Neill was a true American pioneer, paving the
way for other women to have successful and rewarding
careers in illustrating and advertising, both during her
generation and today.  

Her sweet little mischievous urchins never fail 
to make me smile!



Moonshine Kewpie


Enjoy Summer!



The Song of The Greater Knapweed Fairy





Oh please, little children, take note of my name:

To call me a thistle is really a shame:

I'm harmless old Knapweed, who grows on the chalk,

I never will prick you when out for your walk.

Yet, I should be sorry, yes, sorry indeed,

To cut your small fingers and call them to bleed;

So bid me Good Morning when out for your walk,

And mind how you pull at my very tough stalk.


(Sometimes this Knapweed is called Hardhead; and he has
a little brother, little Knapweed, whose flower is not quite like this.-CMB)


The Greater Knapweed Fairy
Cecily Mary Barker





Greater Knapweed, also called Centaurea scabiosa,
 is a wildflower found in Great Britain and Ireland.



"The Song Of The Greater Knapweed Fairy"
Cecily Mary Barker
(1895-1973)
English artist and poetess



Friday, June 29, 2018

The Wayfarers





Is it the hour? We leave this resting-place

Made fair by one another for a while.

Now, for a god-speed, one last mad embrace,

The long road then, unlit by your faint smile.



Wayside Farewell
Middletown, Virginia
February 3, 1863
Mort Kunstler



Ah! the long road! and you so far away!

Oh, I'll remember! but...each crawling day

Will pale a little your scarlet lips, each mile

Dull the dear pain of your remembered face.


Do you think there's a far border town, somewhere,

The desert edge, last of the lands we know,

Some gaunt eventual limit of our light,

In which I'll find you waiting, and we'll go

Together, hand in hand again, out there,

Into the waste we know not, into the night?



"The Wayfarers"
Rupert Brooke
(1887-1915)
English poet



On My Mind: The Sanctity Of Life



"As you know not what is the way of the wind,
or how the spirit comes to the bones in the womb
of a pregnant woman, even so you know not the
work of God Who does all."
Ecclesiastes 11:5








REGARDING THE FIRST AMENDMENT RIGHTS OF
PRO-LIFERS AND THE SANCTITY OF HUMAN LIFE...


In a 5-4 ruling on Tuesday the Supreme Court of the United States
decided that a California law requiring pro-life crisis pregnancy centers
to advertise information about abortion violates their First Amendment
right of freedom of speech and expression.

Under this same law, the state did not require abortion clinics to post
pro-life alternatives to abortion which does not surprise me. I agree with
the Reverend Franklin Graham who recently opined that California,
more than any other state in the union, "sadly reflects the ungodly
secular agenda of progressives who have gained control over
much of the Golden States's affairs."

But aside from state mandates targeting pro-life crisis pregnancy centers
 what really disturbs me is the number of Americans who claim that
they are freedom-loving patriots who support the validity of the
constitutional rights of all Americans, especially in regards to
issues like free speech and gun ownership, and yet, they see
nothing wrong with supporting the abortion industry in this nation.

I believe that the US Constitution was written to protect the freedom
of all Americans, including the most defenseless ones in the womb.
The longstanding argument of feminists and the pro-choice movement is 
that any legislation written to curb the number of abortions being
performed in America is an automatic setback for "reproductive
rights" not to mention that less abortions will somehow deprive
women, especially those living in poverty, of adequate healthcare.

  This argument is as false as it is selfish.
Mainly because abortion has nothing to do with healthcare!
Abortion is the deliberate taking of human life.
Abortion is murder.

Furthermore, the very existence of pro-life crisis pregnancy centers
 operating in California and elsewhere in this nation proves that there is an
  alternative to having an abortion.  These centers not only focus
 on the overall health and well-being of the unborn child,
but on the physical, mental, and spiritual health of the mother
with nonjudgmental love and compassion, much in the same way
Christ offers His unconditional love and mercy to the
lost and hurting of this world.


On a more personal note, I will never forget the time twenty years
ago when I  found out I was pregnant with my second child. 
Although this baby was not planned, I was pleasantly surprised
to be expecting again.  A few months into my pregnancy,
I went for a series of routine blood tests required by my doctor. I was
thirty four years old at the time and he informed me that because
of my age he felt these tests were necessary.

I remember I went to the doctor's office for the tests on a Tuesday
morning.  Two days later, I was in the middle of doing some housecleaning
when the phone rang.  It was the nurse from my doctor's office who
informed me that one of the tests I had taken had come back with
a positive reading for Down Syndrome.

At that moment, my whole world stopped.

I could feel the fear rising inside me as I tried to calmly carry on further
conversation with the nurse who wanted me to make an appointment
at an area pregnancy clinic for amniocentesis and an ultrasound.
I refused the first procedure outright due to the risk of having a miscarriage,
but I agreed to the ultrasound.  After I made the appointment I called
my mother with the news.  I was shaking with fear and crying, but,
my mother calmed me down and offered to take me to my appointment.
She later called my older sister and told her the news. My sister informed Mom
  that she had been offered the same test when she was pregnant with her last child,
but refused to take it because if the test is not performed in the exact
sixteenth week of pregnancy it often results in a false positive reading.

I was not sure how far along I was when I took the test,
 and I tried not to think of what lied ahead as I watched
  the emerging spring landscape along the highway
  on the way to my appointment the following week.

 Like the budding of new leaves on the trees
and new patches of green grass growing along the median,
 to everything there is a season.  I knew that whatever happened, 
God was in control of the situation.

The earnest prayer of my heart was that if I was to be the
mother of a child with special needs, that He would bless me
with the strength and the grace to bear up and be the best
mother I could possibly be to this precious baby whose
little feet I could feel kicking gently in my womb.

 During the ultrasound, the medical technician who performed
the procedure told me, "I have looked at several different images 
 of your baby and everything looks okay to me."
A doctor at the clinic later confirmed what he said was true.
Even though I felt greatly relieved, for the rest of my pregnancy
I still worried.  Yet, I  just as often remembered the words
of the psalmist who wrote: "My times are in Your hands."

On October 27, 1998 I gave birth to my second son, Aaron Matthew.
 He was a strong and beautiful and perfectly healthy baby,
who tipped the scale at a strapping 9.6 lbs.!

Looking back on this time of trial in my life, 
 I often wonder how many women, upon hearing
the dreadful news I did concerning my unborn child,
would have succumb to fear or societal pressure
and would have opted to abort the child. 

I well remember how certain feminists in America
took former Governor and Vice-Presidential candidate,
Sarah Palin to task for giving birth to her youngest child,
son Trig, who was born with Down Syndrome.
But unlike them, Sarah is a strong advocate for life, and a
woman of unshakable faith, who knows that God
has a special plan and purpose for her precious son.


As a little boy, my Aaron loved playing outdoors, riding his bike,
climbing trees, racing down to the end of our driveway to watch
the freight train pass by, and occasionally pulling off a daredevil stunt, 
like jumping off the roof of the shed in the backyard and high
into the air pretending he was a superhero, much to the
horror of his mother, who just happen to look out the
back door at the same time.  He made a perfect two
point landing, despite the fact that he was wearing a
pair of his father's old, over-sized work boots on his feet!

 Aaron has since grown from an energetic and curious
  little boy into a responsible and thoughtful young man,
who today stands nearly six feet tall, and, who just
  graduated from high school last Friday night in the pouring rain!




Thursday, June 28, 2018

Tzom Tammuz 5778




The 17th of Tammuz, Shiv'ah Asar b' Tammuz, is a minor Jewish
fast day which commemorates the breaching of the walls of Jerusalem
before the destruction of the Second Temple. It falls on the 17th day
of the Hebrew month of Tammuz, and also marks the beginning
of a three week period of mourning leading up to the observance
of Tisha B'Av.  This is a time of reflection for Jews all over the world
regarding the significant events which have shaped their
history as both a people and as a nation.

Throughout their long and often difficult existence, 
the Jews have faced many challenges and yet, survived.
That there are still Jews alive today as well as a nation called Israel,
 is living testimony of the love and faithfulness of Almighty God,
Who has called them to be His own nation and people, and
 a blessing, to "all the families and kindred of the earth."
 (Genesis 12:3)


Over 10,000 Jewish children from Germany, Poland,  Czechoslovakia, and Austria 
were rescued from the Nazis by the British organization,  Kindertransport,
 nine months before the outbreak of WWII.
The ultimate goal of this organization  was to reunite these children with their parents
 and families once the war ended. Unfortunately, in the wake of the devastation
 across post war Europe and the Holocaust, many of these children were orphaned
 and remained in Great Britain where they became citizens. 
Some later emigrated to the United States, Israel, 
or eventually returned to their native countries.



"Then he (Noah) sent forth a dove to see if the waters had
decreased from the surface of the ground. But the dove
found no resting place on which to roost, and she returned
to him to the ark...He waited another seven days and
again sent forth the dove out of the ark. 
And the dove came back in the evening, and behold,
in her mouth was a newly sprouted and freshly plucked
olive leaf! So Noah knew that the waters had
subsided from the land."
Genesis 8: 8,9,10,11



Dove of the Ark
Marc Chagall
(1935)



 Moses smashed the tablets containing the Ten Commandments
when he saw the people worshiping the golden calf. He later
went back up on Mt. Sinai to plead on behalf of his people
for God's forgiveness for their idolatry.



Moses Breaking The Tablets Of The Law
Gustave Dore



"Today I know that such memories are the key,
not to the past, but to the future.
I know that the experiences of our lives,
when we let God use them,
become the mysterious and perfect preparation
for the work He will give us to do."
-Corrie ten Boom
(1892-1983)
Dutch Christian 
"Righteous Among The Nations"



Wednesday, June 27, 2018

When Is A Settler An Old Settler?



"Why, you are an old settler," said a newcomer to us recently.
"Yes," I replied proudly, "we consider ourselves natives."
Yet, when we drove into the Ozarks twenty years ago, with a
covered hack and a pony team, we found the "old settler"
already here. In conversation with us he made the remark:
"My father was an old settler here. He came up from Tennessee 
before the war.* Since then in working the fields we have found
now and then a stone arrow or spearhead made by a settler older still."



Vintage Postcard From The Ozark Mountains



When we came to the Ozarks, a team of fairly good horses would trade for
forty acres of land. The fences were all rail fences and a great many of the houses
were built of logs. The country was a queer mixture of an old and a new country.
A great many fields had been cropped continually since the war and were so
worn out that as one of the neighbors said, "You can't hardly raise an
umbrella over it." Aside from these old fields, the land was covered with
timber and used for range. The "old settlers" told us that the thick growth
of timber was a comparatively new thing; that before the country was so
thickly settled, there were only a few scattering large trees.
The fires were allowed to run, and they kept down the growth of timber,
Wild grasses grew rankly over all the hills and cattle pastured freely.

It has always been a great pleasure to hear the tales of earlier days.
A neighbor, Mrs. Cleaver, told us stories of her experience in war times
and the days, equally as bad, which immediately followed. Her husband did
not go to war, but one night a band of men came and took him away.
She never knew what became of him. Then came the hard days for her
and her young stepson. They raised a little crop and a hog or two for
their living, but whenever they had stored a little corn or meat,
some lawless bands of raiders that infested the Ozark hills would come
and take it from them. When the war ended, some of the leaders
of these lawless bands continued their depredations, only in a
little different fashion. Through the machinations of one of them,
Mrs. Cleaver's stepson was taken from her, by due process of law,
and bound out to them until the boy should be of age, to work without
wages, of course. When Mrs. Cleaver protested, I suppose in 
rather a frantic way, she was driven from the courthouse,  
with a horsewhip, by the sheriff.

Not all the old-time stories were so serious. There is the story of the
green country boy who had never seen a carpeted floor. A new family 
moved in from the North somewhere, and this boy went to the house one day.
As he started to enter the door, he saw the carpet on the floor.
Standing in the door, he swung his long arms and jumped clear across
the small room, landing on the hearth before the fireplace.
Turning to the astonished woman of the house, he exclaimed:
"Who Mam! I mighty nigh stepped on your kiverled."
(coverlet or bedspread).

Our friend in telling this story always ended with: "I never could
make out whether that boy was as big a fool as he pretended to be or not.
He made a mighty smart businessman when he was older and made the
businessmen of Kansas City and St. Louis hustle to keep up with him"
which is the way the hill boys have.

One old lady, who has lived here since the war, says that when she came
the "old settlers" told her of the time when a band of Spanish adventurers
came up the Mississippi River and wandered through the Ozarks.
Somewhere among the hills they hid their treasure in a cave, and
it has never been discovered to this day.
But how old must a settler be to be an "old settler"? Or if you
prefer the famous question, "How old is Ann?"*


Laura (left) and with daughter Rose standing 
in the ravine on Rocky Ridge Farm.



"When Is A Settler An Old Settler"
Written in June 1916
By Laura Ingalls Wilder
(1867-1957)
An essay from the book,
"Little House In The Ozarks"
A Laura Ingalls Wilder Sampler
The Rediscovered Writings
Edited by Stephen W. Hines
1991 Guideposts Edition

*The war referred to was the American Civil War
* "How old is Ann" is slang for "Who knows?"