Ellie's Roses

“Ouch!” Ellie yanked back from the rose thorn, a red line etched across her arm. “How can a plant with such beautiful flowers inflict such pain?” she spoke, to no one in particular. Carefully, she bunched the long stems across her arm. That should be enough for a good bouquet, she thought. She looked around her garden for filler: a few leafy branches, and three white hibiscus blossoms. She set the roses on the picnic table, walked around with the clippers to clip the rest of the bouquet. She loved the weeks it was her turn to bring the flowers to church, finding flowers from her garden, putting them together into a pretty display for the service. Quickly, she trimmed and arranged, stood back, clipped and altered. She worked lightly, to make it look natural, simple. “There,” she spoke aloud, to the Lord. “Will that do for this morning?”

At church, Ellie sat several rows back. The side doors were left open to allow the morning breeze to drift through the small mountain church. She could feel the congregation begin to doze under the pastor’s soft, low voice. A gasp caught her attention. Very quietly, a little voice said, “Mommy, look!” The people stirred as they looked where everyone else was looking.

A deer stepped over the threshold and stood at the door. She looked, drew back. No one moved. Her gaze moved to the bouquet of roses a few feet in front of her. Carefully, she took another step. Ellie wanted to shout out, “No, not my roses!” Instead, she thought about humming, “As the deer pants for the roses, so my soul follows after You…” But she didn’t. With everyone else, she hardly breathed. The pastor stopped speaking. The deer stretched out her neck, took another couple of steps, and munched on the roses. It was so quiet they could hear her chewing. Ellie couldn’t believe how bold she was. Those roses must be a real treat for her, she thought. A few plant pieces dribbled to the floor.

Minutes passed. The deer ate all the roses. Then, she sedately walked across the church and out the opposite door. A huge breath crossed the room. A few giggles. The people talked. The pastor looked around, not sure what to say next. “Ellie, we would like to thank you for providing such a delicious bouquet for our service this morning.” More giggles. “I think I will let the deer finish my sermon.” He thumbed through his Bible and read, “Psalm 34:8. ‘Oh taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!’ I’ll add, also, that the deer ate the thorns along with the stems and the buds. The Lord’s creatures know all is a gift from Him, good or bad. The Lord, He is good!”

Captain Ty

                Maine summers were hot and sticky. Miserable and tired of playing alone, Tyler complained to his mother that everyone, except him, was at camp.

              “You should go visit Grandma,” said his mom.

                “Mom, I hate going there. Her house smells. It’s boring.”

                Tyler ran out the door and hiked through the woods toward the ocean. When he reached the rocky coastline, the relief of cool air soared over the bluff.  He made his way north among the rocks, watching the seagulls and inhaling the salt spray from the pounding waves. Coming to a quiet inlet, he climbed down the bluff to sea level. Foundered on rock and mud was an old sailing vessel. Tyler scrambled along the shoreline for a closer look.

                In the low tide, a couple of broken lobster traps lurked in the mud. Splintered wood floated in the murky water. A big hole was cut into her side, the remains of a dock lingered. A tree grew on her foredeck.

                Tyler saw her, a beautiful clipper, sails unfurled, her hull racing across open sea. He saw himself, Captain Ty, legs astride on the bridge, sailing home with his merchant crew. A whale spouted nearby, but he was no whaler. He easily outran a distant pirate ship, his speed no match for them. Her cargo was precious, and he sailed on, racing time and wind. Every great sea captain must have a parrot on his shoulder, and he taught his to say, “Aye, Aye Captain Ty!” The sails tight in the wind, she skimmed the waves on wings.

                His imaginary voyage took him late into the afternoon.  With the incoming tide he realized he must hurry home. He would be in trouble for not going to Grandma’s.

                “Tyler,” said his mom, “Did I ask you to go to Grandma’s?”

                “But I don’t like to go there. It is too hot to sit and watch her doze.”

                “She needs you, Ty. It means a lot to have you visit. You give her something to think about. Tomorrow, I want you to spend the morning there and help her around the house. Do you understand?”

                “Yes, Mom,” Tyler grumbled.

                 The next day, Tyler walked slowly to his grandma’s. He swept the porch, picked strawberries and helped her clean. Tyler told her about the ship. His voice, as he talked, filled the stillness.  When he paused, he noticed she was smiling. He asked, “What’s funny?”

                “Ty, did you know your grandpa sailed? He had a little schooner. He loved the sea, and he loved talking about sailing, just like you are right now. You remind me of him.”

                “Really, Grandma? How far south did he sail? Was he ever caught in a storm? Did you sail with him?” Grandma patiently answered his questions until the morning ebbed into the afternoon. He was from a family of sailors. He hadn’t known. No wonder he loved it. The wind was in his heart and soul.

Change the World

CHANGE THE WORLD

“Jimmy, get up now, or you’ll be late.”

“So what?”

His mom stood outside his door, her arms full of laundry. “So what? So the bus driver will hit the car that would have been a minute later if he hadn't waited for you to cross the street, still fiddling with the arm of your jacket.”

Jim sat up in his bed, rubbed his eyes and scratched the back of his head. “What?”

His mom went on, “While the bus has to wait for you, two boys in the back of the bus start fighting. When you get in the bus, the driver is distracted and doesn’t pay attention at the stop sign. If the bus had been a minute earlier, that car would not have raced through the intersection at the same time as the bus. Because the bus hit the car (no one was hurt, but the radiator and headlights on the bus were smashed), the driver had to pull over to the side of the road and call in for a back-up bus. By the time the back-up bus got there and all you students were unloaded and loaded into the new bus, you arrived at school an hour late. Because you missed the P.E. test, you are not allowed on the baseball team. Because you are not on the baseball team, you will not get a scholarship to college. Because you don’t get a scholarship to college, you have to work through your college years.”

Jim interrupted her. “Really, Mom? All because I am running behind this morning?” He yawned and swung his feet over the side of the bed.

“Everything we do affects everything around us, one way or another,” said his mom. She set his laundry on top of his dresser.

“But you could never prove what might have happened.”

“No, but you can be sure that irresponsibility and negligence have negative effects.”

“Like ripples in a pond,” said Jimmy.

“Exactly. And responsibility also creates a ripple effect. It may not look like much, like being on time, but you can influence or change the world by throwing out good ripples, too.”

Jimmy said, “Let me try. Because I am running late, you are distracted and forget to turn the faucet off in the sink. The sink overflows, ruins the floor and we have it replaced. The extra expense means we have to postpone getting my braces. Which actually doesn’t sound so bad, come to think of it.”

“Okay Jim, you have the idea. You are still running behind this morning.”

“Here’s another one,” said Jim. “Because I am not on the baseball team I decide to play football. Because I am on the football team and can throw well, they make me quarterback. Because I am quarterback I meet the girls on the cheerleading team…”

“Jim…” Mother’s voice strung out a note of irritation.

Jim laughed, got up and walked toward the bathroom.

“Hey Jim,” said his mom.

“What?”

“We just had a serious conversation, and it’s only five minutes after seven. It’s going to be a good day.”