Aunt Norie’s Sewing Room
We have in our midst a young man from California who is so thrilled, so awed at what we have and we just take it for granted.
Rick said, “In all of my 55 years, I never knew it really existed. A place like this, people like this, people who speak to you, wave at you as you drive by.”
He continued: “But the most amazing thing is the sky. The stars, I’d never seen them, but the biggest thrill and surprise I think was the thunder and lightning, just awesome (not like movie sound effects).
“No, this was real. I was hearing and seeing it myself. There’s just no way I can explain that awesome wonderful feeling.”
I couldn’t imagine all of the rain and landslides in California. And no thunder with the rain. On up high in the mountains, they tell me, it thunders.
You see, Rick had grown up in Los Angeles.
“Been up and down the West coast some. In LA, it’s gunshots, huge crowds of people, people ignoring those around you. I didn’t know a land, a place like this existed. I told my Sis, ‘You just would not believe it.’”
Rick’s first introduction to this part of the world: The Ozarks. “I’d never seen a firefly, and the Whippoorwill… I can’t get enough of it. I could sit there for hours just absorbing it all, especially that sky and those stars.
“The friendly attitude of people, these are real people, this is the real world.”
Rick, your story will help many of us maybe to just stop and listen, appreciate and thank God for all of his wonder.
Just as my dad tried so hard to teach his flock: When you are worried and your load seems too heavy “just set your load down there on the step, be quiet and listen to the wind the birds, the stillness.”
A small granddaughter said: “Listen Grandma, to the leaves falling. You can’t hear a thing until they hit the leaves already on the ground, but you have to be very, very quiet, Grandma. I bet it is the smallest sound there is, Grandma.”
So very glad you came our way, Rick.
Love and hugs now, and God bless.
— Aunt Norie, P.O. Box 265, Tonganoxie 66086; firstname.lastname@example.org