By Jerry Mack Grubbs
The scriptures suggest that it is by our fruit that we are known. Before a ripe fruit is plucked from the vine much effort has proceeded that day. There had to first be a preparing of the soil, a sowing of the seed, nurturing of the tender plant and many other acts of labor prior to the enjoyment of the fruit.
Fruit comes in many flavors, sizes and shapes, most of which I have tasted on occasion. In almost all cases, a flower precedes the development of the fruit. Just like fruit, flowers come in all colors, sizes and shapes also. These flowers make up the beautiful bouquets of our lives.
Most women have received a bouquet of flowers at some time in their life. The sound of the door bell caught my wife Kaye's attention. As she opened the door a beautiful bouquet was thrust into her hands with the delivery man hurriedly making sure he was at the Grubbs' residence. What was interesting was that from a distance the bouquet looked like flowers but up close, everything was carved from fruit. What a treat. It was beautiful to look at and wonderful to the taste.
But what was even better was reflecting on the friendship of the one who sent the bouquet. This bouquet was an outward expression of an inner feeling. Over the years I have enjoyed the fruit of the labors of so many others. As my family sat around the table and plucked and ate the flower carved fruit from the bouquet, I thought of how fortunate I am. Thoughtful friends often go out of their way to share a tender feeling of the heart or perform a special act of kindness such as this bouquet of fruit.
Attached to a ribbon on the bouquet was a little note that said, "Best when consumed within four hours." I thought about that little suggestion. Often we receive promptings to perform an act of kindness or express our appreciation in a note. Attached to each of those feelings should be the admonition, "Follow your heart within four hours." When we don't heed the promptings, when we don't act on the feeling, that feeling begins to subside and soon it is nothing more than something we wished we had done.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Sunday, November 12, 2006
In the Blink of an Eye
By Jerry Mack Grubbs
His name is Richard Day but we called him Dick. He came into my life as my brother's best friend. At least Bill and Dick were best friends until Patsy; a well proportioned cheerleader performed a few cart wheels in front of my brother. She was a real looker but so was my brother and somehow he snagged her on his fishing line. If you have ever fished, you know the thrill that comes when you feel the tug on your line. All your attention is focused on getting that big one in the boat. As my brother was struggling to get Patsy in his boat, there was time for me to slip into Dick's life. What a blessing that was for me.
Dick's father died when he was young but a loving mother made sure that he was plowing a straight course. Actually, I think Dick had an inborn tendency to do the right thing regardless of whether anyone was watching. He never spoke ill of anyone. He found no humor in hearing or sharing off-color jokes. Dick loved trains and photography. He once enticed me to be a two-day hobo. We hopped a freight train to Saint Louis, Missouri. Before jumping on the train I removed the heel of my shoe and hid $40 inside. The money did little good. You can't buy anything to eat on a freight train. We didn't even take a water bottle. My Saint Louis experience consisted of washing up in a dirty bathroom of a gas station located near the train tracks. I rinsed out an empty whiskey bottle I found along the tracks and filled it with water for the return trip home.
We had quite an adventure: dirt, flies, meeting real hobos, hopping the wrong train home and having to bale off when it took an unexpected turn North, sunburn, windburn, and hunger. But in the blink of an eye I can open that memory and the joy of being with Dick cascades across my mind and a smile forms on my lips. That says it all. I took his companionship for granted when I was young but I always knew the value of his friendship. It is a friendship that remains in my heart to this day although I haven't seen him in years.
Dick's other passion was photography. He carried a camera most of the time and he captured much of my life in print. Dick created a book of my high school years. Under each picture was a personalized caption with his unique comments and humor. After high school graduation he gave the book to my girl friend, Karen Young. When I asked him why she got the book, Dick said, "If I gave it to you, you would look at it once and forget where it was. This way, you will always know where it is." Well, Dicks comment was prophetic. I know where the book is but I can't look at it, hold it, share it or even misplace it. It just never occurred to Dick that Karen and I would go separate ways.
Although I don't have access to the high school photo album, I can access the memories of my experiences. I am continually grateful for the ability to remember the past, reflect on the present and look forward to the future. I am thankful for the good friend Richard Byron Day was to me. He encouraged me to be my better self; not by his words but by his example. In the blink of an eye I am drawn back in time to a place where I can see his contented smile, relive our shared experiences and express gratitude for his friendship.
Richard has contributed two articles to the Point to Ponder section of our family website.
"Journey to Life"
http://www.grubbsfamily.org/ponder/item?item_id=20227
"What the Railroad Taught Me"
http://www.grubbsfamily.org/ponder/item?item_id=18755
His name is Richard Day but we called him Dick. He came into my life as my brother's best friend. At least Bill and Dick were best friends until Patsy; a well proportioned cheerleader performed a few cart wheels in front of my brother. She was a real looker but so was my brother and somehow he snagged her on his fishing line. If you have ever fished, you know the thrill that comes when you feel the tug on your line. All your attention is focused on getting that big one in the boat. As my brother was struggling to get Patsy in his boat, there was time for me to slip into Dick's life. What a blessing that was for me.
Dick's father died when he was young but a loving mother made sure that he was plowing a straight course. Actually, I think Dick had an inborn tendency to do the right thing regardless of whether anyone was watching. He never spoke ill of anyone. He found no humor in hearing or sharing off-color jokes. Dick loved trains and photography. He once enticed me to be a two-day hobo. We hopped a freight train to Saint Louis, Missouri. Before jumping on the train I removed the heel of my shoe and hid $40 inside. The money did little good. You can't buy anything to eat on a freight train. We didn't even take a water bottle. My Saint Louis experience consisted of washing up in a dirty bathroom of a gas station located near the train tracks. I rinsed out an empty whiskey bottle I found along the tracks and filled it with water for the return trip home.
We had quite an adventure: dirt, flies, meeting real hobos, hopping the wrong train home and having to bale off when it took an unexpected turn North, sunburn, windburn, and hunger. But in the blink of an eye I can open that memory and the joy of being with Dick cascades across my mind and a smile forms on my lips. That says it all. I took his companionship for granted when I was young but I always knew the value of his friendship. It is a friendship that remains in my heart to this day although I haven't seen him in years.
Dick's other passion was photography. He carried a camera most of the time and he captured much of my life in print. Dick created a book of my high school years. Under each picture was a personalized caption with his unique comments and humor. After high school graduation he gave the book to my girl friend, Karen Young. When I asked him why she got the book, Dick said, "If I gave it to you, you would look at it once and forget where it was. This way, you will always know where it is." Well, Dicks comment was prophetic. I know where the book is but I can't look at it, hold it, share it or even misplace it. It just never occurred to Dick that Karen and I would go separate ways.
Although I don't have access to the high school photo album, I can access the memories of my experiences. I am continually grateful for the ability to remember the past, reflect on the present and look forward to the future. I am thankful for the good friend Richard Byron Day was to me. He encouraged me to be my better self; not by his words but by his example. In the blink of an eye I am drawn back in time to a place where I can see his contented smile, relive our shared experiences and express gratitude for his friendship.
Richard has contributed two articles to the Point to Ponder section of our family website.
"Journey to Life"
http://www.grubbsfamily.org/ponder/item?item_id=20227
"What the Railroad Taught Me"
http://www.grubbsfamily.org/ponder/item?item_id=18755
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