sunsets always lead to a sunrise…

“If I can put one touch of rosy sunset into the life of any man or woman,
I shall feel that I have worked with God.”
G.K. Chesterton

“How sweet the morning air is! See how that one little cloud floats like a pink feather
from some gigantic flamingo. Now the red rim of the sun pushes itself over the
London cloud-bank.
It shines on a good many folk, but on none, I dare bet,
who are on a stranger errand than you and I.
How small we feel with our petty ambitions and strivings in the presence of the
great elemental forces of Nature!”
Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes:
The Complete Novels and Stories, Volume I

(a winter’s sunset / Julie Cook /2024)

Why does anyone “blog”?

I think I wrote a post about this very notion many years ago.

And yet here I am, once again, finding myself asking that very same question…

Why does anyone blog?

Why is it that some of us choose to sit down at a computer and tap away at a thought,
an idea, a question…simply to attach it to the surreal oddity known as cyberspace?
Placing a piece of us, our thoughts and our feelings, “out there”…
where exactly, no one seems to really know, but out there nonetheless?

I know that for me, I stumbled my way here to WP, this particular address in cyberspace,
over eleven years ago. I did so because, as a recently retired teacher,
I knew I still had things I wanted to say and share.

Maybe it was the new freedom found in a lack of authoritative constraints regarding
what I could now say and share…that regarding the importance of faith and salvation…
maybe it was because I was entering a new stage of life, caring for aging parents.
Maybe it was because I had been adopted and wanted to address that aspect of myself.

No matter the reasons nor those various stages of life, nor those thoughts and topics…
I think it was simply because I wanted to communicate.

For it was in that desire to communicate, to share…
which in turn gave way to other items to share…other thoughts…
other seemingly important things to pass on….that I found myself “blogging”.

And thus as we “blog”, as we tap out thoughts, sending them to attach themselves
to cyberspace, we inevitably “meet” folks.

As in… isn’t that the gist of all of this tapping out of words…a desire to communicate
with others—and doesn’t communication lead to dialogue—
as in…conversation with others?

We write to communicate and to converse with others.

So naturally we would imagine, assume, hope that there are other folks out there
who will actually stumble across our ramblings and sharings.
Like-minded folks and not so like-minded.

As these folks read our words, many will in turn comment.
It’s at that moment that a door opens,
welcoming others to come in to sit a spell and to chat.

And just like that, in that very instance, we begin to build community over the sharing
of thoughts and ideas. Matters not if everyone is on the same page…there is a untied
desire to share.

One day, during sharing here in bogland, I was fortunate to have stumbled into
Oneta Hayes over on Sweet Aroma.

I can’t remember who ran into whom first…was it me into her, or her into me??

Did we each comment on someone else’s post or did we comment on one another’s post?
Was that what lead to a curiosity into what one another was actually writing about
which lead us to one another’s site?

Was it my desire to sit at her knee as she taught me more and more about
Jesus, His Father, our God, and of the mysteries of the Holy Spirit?

No matter how it happened, we met…here in bogland.

There is a great deal to share about that meeting
and the inevitable teachings, sharings, and sense of community…
the endless comments back and forth…
The eventual sharing of emails, addresses and phone numbers.

However today is not that day to reminisce as there is simply not enough time.

But it should be known that over the years I came to deeply love Oneta…
as I know she loved me.

See that’s how Oneta was, she made you feel loved.
Mattered not that you’d not actually physically sat together enjoying
tea or lemonade out in the back yard…waiting on Sammy to get back from running errands
or knowing Carl’s family was soon to come to lunch….
sometimes we are just fortunate, or more likely blessed, to find such individuals.

Remember, I don’t believe in coincidence.

Oneta possessed a genuineness of pure kindness.
Mattered not if she disagreed with you, did not follow your life’s tenants,
did not agree with your politics….she still expressed a genuine and true kindness.

There were those who visited her blog who came with hostility toward her
deeply rooted faith and beliefs but she was never unkind.
She went toe to toe with nonbelievers and those of opposite minded politics,
always holding her own, and I imagine many of them went away merely scratching their heads wondering what had just transpired as she gently let all hostile air out of
any and all balloons.

Oneta had experienced increasing health issues over the last year.
She often wrote about them in between her latest Bible teachings, her dabble with Haikus,
or feelings regarding the state of the nation.

It was late summer when I think she last posted something.

Knowing in my heart that she must have “moved on” as it were, news came recently from her daughter via Oneta’s own blog site that Oneta Hayes went home on January 4th.

I was saddened at the news and yet at the same time… I was not nor am I sad.

I am sad that we will not meet here on earth face to face.
I am sad that I will not be able to read new thoughts and ideas that Oneta is offering.
I am sad that I will no longer be taught at the knee of this amazing woman.
I am sad she will no longer ring my phone.

And yet I am filled with wonder at the thought of Oneta truly communing with not only Angels
but basking in the Glory of her Savior… and mine…
For she is now in that place she spoke about being so often.

I still have a voicemail on my phone from Oneta…she called me often during a very dark time when I was wading through divorce.
At the time, I had not, and still have not, posted very regularly.

The voice mail:
“Hey this is Oneta, I’m missing you and wanted to tell you so.
Anyway hope all is going well for you babe…my cookie…bye bye.”

Bye bye indeed Oneta—just for a short while…

I believe IB over on Insanitybytes put it best this morning in a comment to me…
“This pastor once said the goal is to get so close to Jesus that when you pass
away heaven is already your comfortable home,
so you are really just stepping from one room to the next.
You haven’t really left at all.”

‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes.
There will be no more death’[a] or mourning or crying or pain,
for the old order of things has passed away.”
Revelation 21:4

Christmas and freedom …

For happily the government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction,
to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean
themselves as good citizens…
May the children of the stock of Abraham, who dwell in this land,
continue to merit and enjoy the goodwill of the other inhabitants.”
(excerpt is taken from a letter written by George Washington to the Hebrew Congregation
in Newport, Rhode Island)

I’m currently reading a marvelous book, George Washington And Benedict Arnold
A Tale of Two Patriots
by Dave R. Palmer

Now you might be asking yourself what in the world does such a tale
have to do with Christmas…?
and indeed such a notion might be vexing to most.

The book follows the woven threads of two men, both of whom originally seem to
have been cut from the same ideological cloth…and yet eventually make choices contrary
to such in the chaotic midsts of the the perilous birth pangs of a fledgling nation.

And it was the book’s recounting of that arduous Christmas eve crossing upon
an ice ladened swirling black river by poorly clad men wearing mere rags for shoes
followed by a Christmas Day’s surprise attack on an unsuspecting Hessian militia,
which became the key turning point in the freedom that we each now take
seemingly for granted…

Thoughts of Christmas, births, wars, death, Christians, Jews, antisemitism,
world conflict, gifts, joy…all colliding into one…
and in the end, what are we to make of it all…

I wrote the following post in 2019.

A timely recollection might be a bit beneficial to us all…

There has been a growing debate for years concerning the religious beliefs of our Founding Fathers…
A debate now rapidly growing and gaining in interest as many folks now wish to expunge all
references to God from our founding documents, our pledge, our historical architecture,
our books, and even our currency.

It appears that many non-believers and progressive provocateurs look to Thomas Jefferson when they wish
to begin an argument about God’s presence, or lack thereof, in this Nation of ours…
as Jefferson’s personal beliefs have always been a bit grey and convoluted given his keen interest in science
as well as theism and deism.

Jefferson was a devout theist, believing in a benevolent creator God to whom humans owed praise.
In an early political text, he wrote that “The god who gave us life, gave us liberty at the same time;…”
He often referred to his or “our” God but did so in the language of an eighteenth-century natural
philosophy: “our creator,” the “Infinite Power, which rules the destinies of the universe,”
“overruling providence,” “benevolent governor,” etc.
In 1823, he wrote to John Adams referring to
“the God whom you and I acknowledge and adore” while denouncing atheism.

Jefferson said that Christianity would be the best religion in a republic,
especially one like the United States with a broad diversity of ethnicities and religions.
“[T]he Christian religion when divested of the rags in which they [the clergy] have
inveloped it, and brought to the original purity &; simplicity of its benevolent institutor,
is a religion of all others most friendly to liberty, science, & the freest expression of the human mind,”
he explained. It was a “benign religion…
inculcating honesty, truth, temperance, gratitude and love of man,
acknowledging and adoring an overruling providence.”
Based on these understandings, Jefferson demonstrated a deep, even devout, admiration of Jesus,
“the purity & sublimity of his moral precepts, the eloquence of his inculcations,
the beauty of the apologues in which he conveys them…

It was in this context that Jefferson said that
“I am a Christian,” a quote which is often repeated or referred to without context.
What he said was “I am a Christian, in the only sense in which he [Jesus] wished anyone to be;…”
Monticello Organization

And speaking of John Adams…probably my favorite president as well as favorite Founding Father,
it seems we glean much of our knowledge of both Adams and Jefferson, along with their feelings and thoughts
regarding the Christian faith, from their correspondence between one another.

“Much of what we know of Thomas Jefferson’s religion comes from letters he wrote from 1811 to 1826
to John Adams. Much more of what we know about John Adams’ views on religion comes from
his letters to Jefferson.
Religion was important to John Adams

“From early entries in his diary to letters written late in life,
Adams composed variations on a single theme:
God is so great, I am so small.
Adams never doubted who was in charge of the universe,
never viewed himself as master of his, or anyone’s destiny.”

There was a strong Puritan strain to Adams’ morality even when he strayed from Puritans’
religious precepts:
Adams wrote at 21 “that this World was not designed for a lasting and a happy State,
but rather for a State of moral Discipline, that we might have a fair Opportunity
and continual Excitement to labour after a cheerful Resignation to all the Events of Providence,
after Habits of Virtue, Self Government, and Piety.
And this Temper of mind is in our Power to acquire,
and this alone can secure us against all the Adversities of Fortune,
against all the Malice of men, against all the Operations of Nature.”

Like Jefferson, Adams was a child of the Enlightenment.
The future president brought to religion a lively interest in science that he developed at Harvard.
Steven Waldman wrote: “Like [John] Locke, Adams believed that since God created the laws of the universe,
the scientific study of nature would help us understand His mind and conform to His wishes.

Like Benjamin Franklin, John Adams believed in the utility of religion even when he had doubts
about religious beliefs themselves:
“Without religion, this world would be something not fit to be mentioned in polite society, I mean hell.
Lehrmaninstitue.org

So as we turn our sights to Washington and his personal views…
We know that the General and future President remains a bit of an enigma when it comes
to our understanding anything truly personal within Washington’s true beliefs.

Washington remains a larger than life figure in our Nation’s history
and yet he was a very private man…
probably more so than his fellow fraternity of Founding Fathers.
The Lehrmaninstitue offers this: George Washington worked hard to keep separate his public and
private views on religion.

History tells us that Washington’s life-long love was his dear Mt Vernon, farming and family…
Following his departure from office, disappearing into obscurity at Mt Vernon was most welcomed.

In most later paintings of Washington, we see an often dour man…particularly emotionless.
Some historians credit chronic mouth pain due to, yes, wooden dentures, to Washington’s pained and
stoic portraits.
At the same time, we know that Washington had been raised an Anglican.
Anglicans by nature, both then and now, are characteristically reserved when it comes to their faith.
They are not as demonstrative nor vocal regarding their belief in God or that of their faith.
I know because I was raised under a similar umbrella.

The Mount Vernon Organization shares a private insight with us…
Looking at Washington’s theological beliefs,
it is clear that he believed in a Creator God of some manner,
and seemingly one that was also active in the universe.
This God had three main traits; he was wise, inscrutable, and irresistible.

Washington referred to this God by many names, but most often by the name of “Providence.”

Washington also referred to this being by other titles to infer that this God was
the Creator God.

This aspect of his belief system is central to the argument about whether or not
Washington was a Deist.
His belief in God’s action in the world seems to preclude traditional deism.
Washington believed that humans were not passive actors in this world.
However, for Washington, it was also improper to question Providence.
This caused Washington to accept whatever happened as being the will of Providence.

Notably, Washington did see God as guiding the creation of the United States.

It is also possible that Washington felt he needed to discern the will of Providence.
These facts point to belief in a God who is hidden from humanity,
yet continually influencing the events of the universe.

This does not illustrate conclusively that he was a devout Christian, however.
Washington never explicitly mentioned the name of Jesus Christ in
private correspondence.
The only mentions of Christ are in public papers, and those references are scarce.
However, Washington’s lack of usage may be due to the accepted practice of his day;
Jesus was not typically referenced by Anglicans or Episcopalians of Washington’s generation.
Mount Vernon Organization

And whereas each man had his own personal and private thoughts and feelings regarding a Divine
Omnipotent Creator…each man, however, was very much convinced that this Creator was pivotal
to laying the foundation of the new fledgling nation.
He was intertwined within her birth, invited to play a key role and intentionally injected into
each part of her birthing fibers.

History teaches us that each man agreed that God and the Christian faith were vital
to the birth of the young nation. A unifying base.
And each man demonstrated a unique humility with regard to that which was greater than themselves.

These Founding Fathers provided us with a foundation as well as a guidepost.
It is my hope that we will not depart from the very foundation that our earliest architects
found necessary to our survival as a viable and functioning nation.

May we continue to humble ourselves to the one true Creator who is far greater than ourselves
and may He continue to shed his Grace on us all.

https://www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/george-washington-and-religion/

https://www.foxnews.com/science/george-washington-letter-on-god-and-the-constitution-surfaces

the pendulum

“The pendulum had swung too far, as always, and now was swinging back,
and the horror of intolerance had been loosed upon the land.”
Clifford D. Simak, Time Is the Simplest Thing

(an old pendulum to one of my grandmother’s clocks/ Julie Cook/ 2023)

I can pretty much remember my high school Lit classes rather vividly…
along with my classes in Sociology, Anthropology and always my beloved history classes.

We were charged with having to read various tales such as A Brave New World, Animal Farm, The Gulag Archipelago, Cancer Ward, 1984—tales now classified as dystopian….
or what the Oxford dictionary tells us is something
“relating to or denoting an imagined state or society where there is great suffering or injustice.”

I thought authors such as Solzhenitsyn were merely recounting a past that was no longer
and that Huxley and Orwell were science fiction writers with vivid imaginations…
depressive imaginations but most vivid.

1984 seemed so far away.
Tales of gulags, soon to be big brotheresque societies, societal meltdowns all rang
of gloom and doom.

What my mind imagined to be most important was that I’d just gotten my driver’s license…
events such as graduation were still some time off—then college lay ahead…
heck, life itself lay ahead!!!

Vietnam was behind us.
Communism didn’t seem to be what it was.
The Fallout Shelter signs still hanging on the walls of the school were no longer noticed.
And the future, my future, was an oyster filled with pearls to be found…right?

The books I was having to read left me feeling uncomfortable and troubled.
I really didn’t want to imagine such a world.
I didn’t want to think about it, dwell upon it.
Not a world where my own government actually planned and plotted against me.
A government telling, nay demanding, that I do its bidding.

The government worked for me, for us, didn’t it??

Wasn’t I living in the United States for heaven’s sake??
We were in the throes of celebrating our Bicentennial.
Flag pins and all things Red, White and Blue were not only the rage but the norm.
There was a sense of pride and vast excitement.

1776 to 1976—-
the battle from tyranny and oppression to democratic freedom had
been valiantly fought and now maintained for a solid 200 years…..
It was a phenomenon that many considered to be a mere experiment–
a foolhardy foray into the realm of a working democracy.
A novelty that certainly wouldn’t, couldn’t, last and yet merrily it appeared to be
doing just that…working as well as flourishing.

Yet always in the back of my youthful mind rose questions…
Could the books I was reading actually happen?
Could such worlds, such times come to fruition during my lifetime?

Please tell me no.

Well…I think, rather sadly, that we all now know the answer to my youthful query.

I taught high school for 31 years.
I’ve been retired now for almost 12 years.

It was a period of time that witnessed mimeograph machines, carbon paper, typewriters,
grade ledgers, chalk boards, pay phones, film projectors, overhead projectors
all oddly yet interestingly disappear one by one…
all the while they morphed into other things.

Things such as xerox machines, fax machines, smart boards, mobile phones, computers,
power point presentations, smart tablets…
Technology had come into its own, especially in the world of education.

I was one of those teachers who actually replaced a hard copy grade book and calculator
with a computer and a variety of grading platforms and programs.
A teacher who went from papers and pens to a computer. A huge thing that took up an entire table.
Cables and wires all tethered to things such a modems and towers, and printers.

It was a huge learning curve for the current sitting educator.
We were straddling an expanse of time of what had been and what was to be…
and we had to hurry up to get on board as it was all advancing faster than we
could be taught to keep up.

This trip down memory lane came to the forefront of my brain this morning when I caught
an interesting article posted on the Federalist.

It’s an article about cell phone and classrooms.

Answer The Call Already: Ban Smartphones In Schools
by By: Jermey S. Adams / October 04, 2023

It made me remember the days when kids began to bring iPods and cell phones into the school.
At first we teachers were tasked with confiscating these interloping devices.

However both parent and student became incensed that we were taking up personal property.
Expensive personal property…despite it being returned by the end of the day.
One too many offenses and the parents would have to come pick up the device.
That went over like a massive stone of inconvenience.

What if there was an emergency for heaven’s sake?!
Had we not suffered through Columbine?
Did parents not have the right to be able to immediately contact their children
if the need should arise?

This was also the time that social media was on the rise.

Oddities such as Chat rooms, Myspace, texting were on the move.
iPods were ever present as kids would walk down the halls with wires
leading to their ears.
Tuned in, yet tuned out.

It was clear that this burgeoning bit of technology within schools was becoming a monster
that needed to be tamed.
But the question was how.

Eventually the idiom of if we can’t beat them, join them came into play.
The eureka thought was that we must incorporate their devices into the curriculum.
We’ll strike a live and let live coexistence.

But what of the darker side?

The sexting.
The predation.
The cyber bullying?
The blatant cheating…all at the touch of a finger.

Mr. Adams notes in his article a familiar place I readily remember…
There was a moment in the past decade when most teachers,
myself included, thought that the ubiquitous presence of cell phones made a war
against them unwinnable.
Many of us thought it more judicious to find a way to integrate the technology
into our classroom routines.
Likewise, many of us were open to discipline reform and innovation
in the way we graded our students.
But the reality of what these fashionable ideas have done to American
education is too difficult to ignore.
The pendulum can, and must, start to swing the other way.

It certainly appears that Mr. Adams’ article is most timely.

He notes that an array of studies and data now tell us that the overt use of technology,
social media, et el, is a detriment to learning rather than a boon.

I think many of us figured this out years ago.
Yet our students are now suffering due to our own frantic efforts to appease them while
striking some sort of balance.

We knew what worked and what was best yet we wanted to keep the peace.
We capitulated.
We leaned toward a kumbaya sense of equity of leveling all playing fields.
We wanted to appear sympathetic and not hurt feelings or what we falsely assumed
to be fragile egos.
Pass all, fail no one.
Advance them on regardless of whether they made the grade or not.
Failure was too painful.
Hard work was simply that, too hard.

And so I was actually very happy to read that countries such a France, Italy, Finland
and even England were now banning cell phones from schools.

As a young new teacher I can remember an older more senior teacher once
remarking that education was a pendulum.
It will swing in one direction for a time, then eventually swing back.

Be that good or bad.

I just hope we are beginning to actually swing back to a more sensible direction…
all before it’s too late in what has become our foolhardy race to a static state of
inertia.

Here’s a link to the article:

https://thefederalist.com/2023/10/04/answer-the-call-already-ban-smartphones-in-schools/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=answer-the-call-already-ban-smartphones-in-schools&utm_term=2023-10-04

“Today I lost my Nobel Prize in Medicine”

“Only God truly forgives,
man sometimes forgives,
nature never forgives.”
Jerome Lejeune

Dr. Jérôme Lejeune (photo credit: Fondation Jérôme Lejeune/CC BY-SA 3.0)

Sometimes we find ourselves in a bit of a quandary…
We discover that to speak out or to stand up for what is right–
for what we know, without a shadow of a doubt, to be true…
will cost us, by world standards, much.

And thus the question begs…

Do we opt to speak out and do we decide to take that stand,
all for the sake of what is true, what is right and what is just, if we know
that doing so will cost us all worldly acclaim?

Or–

Do we do so for the one simple fact…
the fact being that we know it is indeed right, true and just…?

As seen in a recent article by The Catholic Company:

“Venerable Dr. Jérôme Lejeune was a French Catholic doctor who, in 1958,
linked Down Syndrome—which had been recognized about 100 years earlier
but with no known cause—to the presence of an extra copy of chromosome 21.

Dr. Lejeune was heartbroken, however, when his discoveries were being used for the prenatal diagnosis and abortion of babies with Down Syndrome. He lobbied against the pro-abortion laws that were making their way through the legal system at the time and defended the sanctity of human life when such a position was unpopular in the medical community.

In his own words:

“The enemies of life know that to destroy Christian civilization,
they must first destroy the family at its weakest point—the child.
And among the weakest, they must choose the least protected of all—the child
who has never been seen; the child who is not yet known or loved
in the usual meaning of the word;
who has not yet seen the light of day;
who cannot even cry out in distress.”

When receiving the William Allan Award in 1969,
he gave a speech to his colleagues in which he fearlessly defended the
humanity of the unborn.
He knew that such a speech would displease many people and told his wife afterwards,
“Today, I lost my Nobel Prize in medicine.”

Dr. Lejeune continued to speak for the most vulnerable among us throughout his life.

Pope Paul VI named him to the Pontifical Academy of Sciences in 1974.
Pope John Paul II appointed him the first president of the Pontifical Academy for Life,
though he only served a short time before his death from lung cancer in 1994.
Pope Francis declared him “venerable” on January 21st, 2021.”

https://www.catholiccompany.com/getfed/which-saint-discovered-the-cause-of-down-syndrome/

look for the smallest light… for there you will still find hope…

“Just as one small candle may light a thousand,
so the light here kindled hath shone unto many.”
William Bradford

(actresses Billie Boullet and Bel Powley as Miep Gies and Anne Frank)

I am almost ashamed to admit that despite all the posts I’ve ever written regarding WWII,
Winston Churchill, the Nazi Regime, Adolph Hitler, The various Resistance movements,
The Holocaust….
All of the posts I’ve shared here about the horrors, the miscues, the tragedies,
the small triumphs, along with the overwhelming incomprehensible loss of life
during those most excruciating of times, I did not know about the woman Miep Gies.

(credit The Guardian)

But maybe you knew.

Maybe you knew about Miep when you read The Diary of a Young Girl, Anne Frank.
Maybe you’d read Miep’s account of those dark days in Amsterdam.
Maybe you’d just caught an article here or there or even glimpsed a story
about her passing in 2010.

The odd thing is that I had not known about Miep.

I’ll confess that I think my lack of knowledge is due in part to my reluctance
of wanting to delve into the tragic story of Anne and her family…
of the years they spent isolated and in hiding only for a subsequent betrayal
to take place just prior to the Nazi’s demise.
The betrayal which lead to separation, loss, death and the eventual loneliness and anguish
of a sole surviving husband and father.

For you see, I have a tendency to put my own personal emotions into the individuals
of such harrowing stories…I put myself there as a young teen girl who was
locked away from the world with only her daydreams and a diary…
all because I too kept a diary, just like Anne, when I was her age.
Yet the only looming difference was that my life’s circumstances were a far cry
from wars and occupations.

As a parent, I could not have been able to comprehend the helplessness of
watching one’s children and spouse being forcibly taken…being treated like animals,
harmed and hurt without my own intervention–all simply for having been born a Jew.

So over the years, I’ve stubbornly told myself that I knew all I needed to
know about the heart wrenching and sickeningly painful story of this young girl
without having to “study” it.
It was just more than I felt I could bare.

Enter NatGeo.

Back in May NatGeo ran a rather splendid miniseries, or perhaps more specifically a bit of a biopic, entitled A small Light.
At first I didn’t think I wanted to see it…but I discovered this was not to be a story
focused on Anne but rather on the woman who helped to hide the Frank family.

It was the story of Miep Gies.

It was the story through the eyes of one woman who tried to defy the times, defy the
rules, defy the odds, defy the enemy in order to save the lives of two families
and a doctor.

According to an article on ScreenRant, Owen Danoff offered a reflection on
the latest mini biopic delivered by NatGeo.
(Publish MAY 1, 2023)

“A Small Light composer Ariel Marx discusses working on Nat Geo’s powerful modernized telling of the story of Miep Gies and Anne Frank’s family.

A Small Light is a gripping and powerful series that brings to life the story of Miep Gies, the Dutch citizen who hid Anne Frank and her family, during the most consequential period of her life. Created by Joan Rater and Tony Phelan and directed by Susanna Fogel, the miniseries utilizes modern storytelling techniques and writing to make the dramatizations of its real-life subjects especially relatable and human

Miep took a chance… a great risk to herself and her family.

And in the end, she too would know deep deep sorrow.

Yet despite the obvious tale of tragedy, all in all, it was a brilliant series.
And as Hollywood is true to form, it afforded itself some “artistic liberties” with this tale.
But I think those “liberties” worked well in the weaving of the story.

It worked so well that I went in search of Miep’s own words…I sought out her
own book, her own recounting of those surreal days.

So my intent today is not to write a review regarding the miniseries or
a tale to the background of the true story…
but rather it is my desire to examine what seems to have opened a door to
reminders of other threads that lead from this time to that time.

In her book, Miep wrote that during the Occupation, there were two types of Dutch–
Orange Dutch…those who believed in freedom..
or…
the NSBers…those who believed in joining the Nazi regime as a means of protecting
themselves, their lives, their livelihood at the cost of a their
national identity and what all it meant to be a Dutchman or woman.

The Dutch, according to Meip, were a proud people who prided themselves for being
tolerant.
They welcomed “outsiders”.
They embraced the Jews in Holland.
They embraced those who moved to Holland as Hitler’s grip advanced throughout Europe.
All believed there would be safety in Holland.
The Dutch appreciated and honored their Jewish neighbors..their lives and culture.
Yet all of that changed with the Nazi Occupation.

Today Holland seems to have lost some of that once proudly touted tolerance…
that ethos for living.

A recent story on AP’s website noted “that people with autism and intellectual disabilities
have been been legally euthanized in the Netherlands in recent years because they said they could not lead normal lives, researchers have found.

The cases included five people younger than 30 who cited autism as either the only reason or a major contributing factor for euthanasia, setting an uneasy precedent that some experts say stretches the limits of what the law originally intended.

In 2002, the Netherlands became the first country to allow doctors to kill patients at their request if they met strict requirements, including having an incurable illness causing “unbearable” physical or mental suffering.

Those deemed less than perfect human beings could be, should be, annihilated.

Eerie echos of days long past…

And then yesterday, I caught another news story about another Dutch resister…
Corrie ten Boom.

https://www.foxnews.com/opinion/nazis-took-everything-still-forgave-them

It seems there’s an upcoming new movie on-stage adaptation of ten Boom’s story,
The Hiding Place…

The article noted that “If you bring up Corrie ten Boom’s name in a conversation, you’re likely to be met with one of two reactions. Either a blank stare devoid of recognition, or an exclamation of how her book (published in 1971 by Chosen Books) or her movie (released in 1975) was a life-changing experience.”

The concern was that of the devoid blank stares.
The blank looks that scream volumes…volumes as to who in the world was Corrie ten Boom?
Or who was Miep Gies for that matter?

The lukewarm questions of ‘who were these people and why should we, me, you care today?’
What’s the relevance?
What’s the point.

The producer of the new production noted that he hoped that he could bring a renewed
relevance to this story. A tale of doing the right thing without any concern for
one’s self.
Taking risks for what was right by humankind.
Lessons we must not forget.

“She [Corrie] chose to forgive Nazis. She chose to love the people in front of her.
She chose to turn the ruin of war into a garden.
And she spent the last 30 years of her life testifying to the light that
the world cannot, not even in a Nazi death camp, extinguish.”

“Only by story does the world remember, and by silence it forgets.
So, this August we’re ending the silence and telling the story again,
in a new way, with new people and a new vision.

Corrie and Betsie and Casper and Willem Ten Boom gave us a great story at great cost.
We owe it to them to help the world remember it.”

https://www.foxnews.com/opinion/nazis-took-everything-still-forgave-them

We need to always remember the stories of people like Miep Gies and Corrie ten Boom.
We need to remember the single candle each one lit—the candle which values human life…
all life.

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/tv/shows/a-small-light

the making of an epic road trip that revealed the importance of the birth of a nation

“Thus out of small beginnings greater things have been produced by His hand
that made all things of nothing, and gives being to all things that are;
and, as one small candle may light a thousand, so the light here kindled
hath shone unto many…
Yea in some sort to our whole Nation let the Glorious Name of Jehovah
have all the praise ”
William Bradford, Governor of the of Plymouth Colony

(a family reunion of sorts/ the graves of Priscilla Mullins Alden and John Alden/
Duxbury, Massachusetts / 2023)

Sometimes we have to first go backwards before we can actually move forward.

Sometimes we forget where we’re going because we’ve lost sight of where we’ve been.

Sometimes we chose to ignore the wisdom of those who went before us…
thinking that surely we know better than those from days long gone…

A notion that has its roots buried in hubris, arrogance, ignorance or…
simply a mix of all three along with whatever else has come down the pike
over the passage of time.

I just recently returned from a bit of a road trip.
It seemed to make sense that when there’s lots of loss and change in one’s world,
nothing seems to bring about a most positive correction faster than
that of an epic road trip.

And that’s exactly what it was…epic.
Epically rejuvenating.
Epically fresh.
Epically picturesque…
and especially epically historic.

This particular road trip did not exactly start out as a pursuit of the historic
or of a pursuit of the past, or a pursuit of a beginning or even
a pursuit of the presidential…but that seems
to be what just happened.

Over the course of a month’s time, there was a visit to either the birthplace,
residence, place of death, or all three rolled into one, of 10 various presidents.

There were stops at two US military academies, several state houses, monuments,
Elizabethan and Colonial gardens…there were rocky shores, vistas, mountains,
national parks and a good many cemeteries…and there was a particular rock of great significance…albeit most likely more symbolic rather than literal.

(Myles Standish Burying Ground, Duxbury, Mass / Julie Cook / 2023)

(Myles Standish Burying Ground, Duxbury, Mass / Julie Cook / 2023)

(National Monument to the Forefathers / Plymouth, Mass / 2023)

(National Monument to the Forefathers / Plymouth, Mass / 2023)

(Plymouth rock / Julie Cook / 2023)

I’ve included these few pictures in part because the graves pictured above are of
a personal significance to my family.

I’ve written about these folks before and why they matter to me and my own family
as well as why they matter to us as a collective family of these United States
but I’ll let you read about such on your own via the provided link.

https://wordpress.com/view/cookiecrumbstoliveby.wordpress.com

It was, however, during the stop in and around Plymouth that I was reminded and even made
aware of the deep significance of the Pilgrim’s voyage—a perilous voyage
with no guarantee of a survived passage.
It was a dangerous journey into the complete unknown and a very grave risk.

Families and livihoods all left behind…great sacrifices made…
but ultimately it was deemed to be of the utmost importance…
Important due in part as to what was hoped to be gained…

That hope being what our founding fathers would later espouse as the essential
essence of God’s gift to man…that consisting of unalienable rights…
life, liberty and the simple pursuit of happiness.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
–That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men,
deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,
–That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends,
it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it,
and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such
principles and organizing its powers in such form,
as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.
Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not
be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience
hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable,
than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed.
But when a long train of abuses and usurpations,
pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under
absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty,
to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.
–Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies;
and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their
former Systems of Government.
The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries
and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute
Tyranny over these States.
To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

I will close today’s post by adding another link…
it’s a link to a post written several years ago that harkens to the
significance as why we, as a nation, must always remember
why we actually celebrate July 4th…
It’s about the ultimate cost offered by so many…both long and not so long ago,
sacrifices made just so you and I can have a day off, enjoy a picnic,
eat some BBQ and watermelon while watching a few fireworks….

Happy 4th of July

Rebels and rebellions…tennis shoes, flags and slavery…. a brief history lesson

From President Washington’s Thanksgiving Proclamation in 1789

Now, therefore, I do recommend and assign Thursday the 26th day of November next
to be devoted by the People of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being,
who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is,
or that will be–
That we may then all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks–
for his kind care and protection of the People of this Country previous to their becoming
a Nation–for the signal and manifold mercies, and the favorable interpositions
of his Providence which we experienced in the course and conclusion of the late war–
for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty,
which we have since enjoyed–for the peaceable and rational manner,
in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government
for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national One now lately instituted–
for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed;
and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge;
and in general for all the great and various favors which he hath
been pleased to confer upon us

P is for perseverance…and love…

People let me tell you ’bout my best friend
He’s a warm hearted person [cat] who’ll love me ’til the end
People let me tell you bout my best friend
He’s a one boy cuddly toy, my up, my down, my pride and joy
lyrics by Harry Nillson

(something about that pink nose…a much younger Percy/ Julie Cook)

If you’re anything like me… well…
you’ve probably had your fair share of four legged or even two winged pets
during your lifetime.

I counted it up today and Percy, the last of my cats during this 63 year run of a life,
actually totals number 7.

Let’s not count the dogs, one bird, one mouse, one hermit crab, a myriad of fish
and countless found wild little animals that needed tending too…
simply put, it was always the cats… and in particular, it was
always Percy who seemed to matter most.

Percy came into my life 13 years ago last month.
I wrote the following post about him after about two years in living with him–
because by this time, he’d completely stolen my heart–
the link is here:

My Best Friend

And I might add that I’ve actually written many posts about Percy…
posts about his life, his rescue, his surgeries, his endurance…
but most importantly and simply put, I’ve written about his perseverance.

For you see Percy is short for Perseverance.

When I found myself staring at the tiny maggot covered, broken, bruised and
bloodied mass that was actually a kitten barely clinging to existence—
a kitten who had been thrown from a car and smacked up against a fence post…
this tiny mess of a baby…I knew any name this animal would have,
would have to measure up to this wee one’s sheer will and determination
to survive.

A strong name for a seemingly helpless mangled mess.

But what you need to understand in all of this is that I didn’t,
my family didn’t, rescue Percy—it was Percy who found us to be his rescuers.
He found us, because as odd as it might sound, Percy sensed–
yes this tiny broken creature seemed to know that we’d give him that chance
that he needed and obviously desperately wanted…a chance to thrive.

And yet however…in the end, it was and will always be Percy who rescued me.

Time and time again, Percy rescued me.

Yes, it seems that I just wrote a post about losing my older cat Peaches…as she
had to be put down after battling jaw cancer.

We already had Peaches when Percy came into our lives.
And just like that, this older cat who had never had kittens of her own,
quickly accepted and took on Percy as hers.

(Percy and Peaches at this newest of homes / Julie Cook / 2023)

Yet Percy wasn’t like other cats; not like any I had ever had before.
Even vets would comment that Percy was not catlike but rather more doglike–more
intuitive, not dismissive or elusive but rather… just more of an old soul.

Percy was the most expensive pet I’ve ever owned.
No thoroughbred, no exclusive breed…just basically a mutt so to speak.

The costs came quickly…
there were the exams and meds and fluids just to see if he’d survive
his first week with us.

A cage, food, bedding, toys….

Then there were surgeries early on to repair the damage done to his face..
damage caused by humans who must have been void of their own humanity.

Then there was the metal rod installed by an orthopedic surgeon to repair a
torn achilles tendon.
The 12 weeks worth of rehab.
More cages.
Casts.
Meds.
The ensuing bone infection that required trips to the vets daily for injections and pills
for a good 7 weeks.

And most recently there was the emergency room trip.
The oxygen box.
More meds.
The IVs
The infections.
The X-rays.
The kidney failure.
The suspected congenital heart failure.

And yet…he overcame…once agin…or so it seemed.
For there was always the perseverance.

The desire to be.

The bond between us was (and will always be) inseparable.

13 years…with all the additions and subtractions in a family.
The retirements, the lives, the deaths, the moves, the ups, the downs, the divorce…
the one constant was always…Percy.

Well…yesterday…Mother’s Day…my best friend’s heart simply gave out.
It suddenly stopped beating and he stopped being…
just as a piece of me also stopped.

Percy was seemingly my only link to a life that was bridging a life that was and
a life that is…he was the last bit of brittle glue bonding two worlds…
and now… that last link, that brittle little glue… simply stopped breathing.

Do animals, our pets, go to Heaven?

Well, that’s been an age old theological conundrum for ages…
but I have always said that God knows how much our pets mean to us—
on all sorts of levels.
How much they do for us and how much we do for them.

I think the God I know…knows.
He sees and He knows.
And he cares, even for the least of these.

Many will say that Percy was lucky to have found me…
but if the truth be told, I was and I am the one who was the luckiest of all
that Percy found me.

He taught me and continues to teach me what it means to Persevere.

Thank you my dear little friend….

The Lord is good to all;
he has compassion on all he has made
Psalm 145:9

Way back when:

Not a recent good look! Despite countless water bowls around the house, Percy always preferred drinking water from a recently finished shower…or remnants in a bath and most recently… something a bit more disturbing…

However the most content was simply to rest on a perch next to a warm fire…

Picture this…

“Only the poet can look beyond the detail and see the whole picture.”
Helen Hayes

“If God’s not in the picture, then all I’ve got is a frame.”
Craig D. Lounsbrough

(a pristine Spring day/ Julie Cook/ 2023)

A year has passed by since my life flipped on its head and I moved from Georgia–
moving to the mountains of North Carolina.

When I moved, I moved with a torn ACL that had not been fully rehabbed.
I had a brace on my knee and my world in a thousand boxes.

I’ve lived with a torn ACL before but that knee served its full time in rehab.
Surgery has never been recommended…either tear.
But rehab was a must.

I don’t play tennis nor do any pivoting type of activities–
I’m pretty much usually moving simply forward, backward, up and down…
should there be any need to twist or pivot…then it’s all she wrote.
Lateral movements are not possible and God forbid I hit a slick spot and
need to maintain balance.

I had thought that I could do the necessary exercises on my own,
but time, settling and logistics muddied the waters.
My current home’s incline is a far cry from the relatively flat
to rolling curvatures of Georgia.

Therefore it’s slow and steady goes the race.

So I’ve managed to put the brace on a shelf and have found my way to a nice walking
path down the mountain.
The walking path is carved into a large pasture. Two loops making a mile.
The path meanders by a trout stream then back out into a sunny wild grass field.
It’s been created and maintained by a local fire department as it butts up to the
back of the station.

One might not think walking a flat gravely path out in the middle of a pasture
could offer any sense of wild natural beauty…but you might be surprised.

A while back I found a great little app for my phone…PictureThis
It allows one to take a picture of a plant, tree, shrub, nut etc and it will identify
the mystery.
It offers descriptions, plant information, care information,
latin names, species, genus, etc.
What’s poisonous, what’s edible, perennial, annual, deciduous or not…

I often find myself stopping along my laps, taking quick snaps of what most folks
would consider pesky weeds only to discover tiny treasures under foot.

So imagine my surprise when I spied what I thought was
just another wooden telephone pole… only to discover it was a bit more.

Back in Georgia, telephone poles are typically tall brown, creosote embalmed pines.
The poles in my North Carolina area are more grayish in nature with a distinctive
mottled wood pattern.

Curious, I pulled out my phone and opened the ‘picturethis’ app—I snapped a picture
and quickly learned that this pole is actually a Rocky Mountain Bristlecone Pine.
Who knew?!

The app could actually identify a common processed telephone pole

So if you want to enhance your wanderings…I highly recommend getting the
PictureThis app for your phone.

(creeping buttercup / Julie Cook/ 2023)

(Mountain Laurel / Julie Cook / 2023)

(Mountain Laurel / Julie Cook / 2023)

I assure you that it is not by faith that you will come to know him,
but by love; not by mere conviction, but by action.
John the Evangelist is my authority for this statement.
He tells us that anyone who claims to know God without keeping
his commandments is a liar.
St. Gregory the Great

one of my new heros…out of the mouth of babes…

…and said to Him, “Do You hear what these are saying?”
And Jesus said to them, “Yes. Have you never read,
‘Out of the mouth of babes and nursing infants You have perfected praise’?”
Matthew 21:16 NKJV

(Liam Morrison, 12, reads a statement during a Middleborough School Committee meeting on April 13. (YouTube / Middleborough Educational Television)

I admit that I’ve been rather sporadic here in blogland for quite some time…
ever since my personal world took a major turn.

My time is now different.

It’s a busy time…but in a much different way than it once was.
Busy good.
Busy sad.
Busy full.
Busy new.
Busy different…but all busy just the same—
…and like I’ve always said, busy hands keep the devil away…
or I think that’s something more like ‘idle hands being the devil’s workshop’…
or something along those lines…just meaning,
keeping busy, you don’t get in trouble…

I should also add, that over the past year,
I’ve been quite remiss with my traditional overload of all things news and politics.

During my time of ‘exile’ and divorce, I basically quit watching the news…
or much TV for that matter.
At the time, life was pretty glum as it was, why would I want to pepper that with
the sordid details of the real and unreal happenings within our now very
upside down world??

And so now that I’ve been on a more even keel for nearly year,
I still don’t watch the news, but I do keep up via various news apps.

I say all of this because I caught a story the other day that sparked my interest.

I’m not sharing this story so much because I feel the need to repeat my
feelings regarding the current two gender drumbeat…
because in my mind that’s a no brainer…I took biology…
I may not remember everything that was taught back in the 8th grade but I do remember
that there are two genders, end of sentence.

I don’t share this story because I’m still rather clueless in not understanding
the growing letters found on some rainbow flag and the need to keep adding letters
and symbols…
I tend to be a one flag nation kind of gal—red, white and blue you know.

I share this story because there’s a seventh grade young man from Massachusetts
who seems to know a lot more than most of most of us adults…

By Ashley Carnahan / Fox News:
A 12-year-old student was allegedly sent home from school after he refused to change
his T-shirt that said, “There are only two genders.”

Liam Morrison, a seventh-grader at Nichols Middle School in
Middleborough, Massachusetts, said he was taken out of gym class on March 21
and met with school staff who told him people were complaining about
the statement on his shirt and that it made them feel “unsafe.”
His comments were picked up by popular Twitter account LibsofTikTok.

“Yes, words on a shirt made people feel unsafe.
They told me that I wasn’t in trouble,
but it sure felt like I was. I was told that I would need to
remove my shirt before I could return to class.
When I nicely told them that I didn’t want to do that, they called my father,”
he explained during a Middleborough School Committee meeting on April 13.

“Thankfully, my dad, supportive of my decisions, came to pick me up.
What did my shirt say? Five simple words: There are only two genders.
Nothing harmful. Nothing threatening.
Just a statement I believe to be a fact,” he said.

Morrison added that he was told his shirt was “targeting a protected class”
and was a “disruption to learning.”
“Who is this protected class?
Are their feelings more important than my rights?” he asked.
“I don’t complain when I see Pride flags and diversity posters hung
throughout the school.
Do you know why?
Because others have a right to their beliefs, just as I do,” he said.

“I was told that the shirt was a disruption to learning.
No one got up and stormed out of class.
No one burst into tears.
I’m sure I would have noticed if they had.
I experience disruptions to my learning every day.
Kids acting out in class are a disruption, yet nothing is done.
Why do the rules apply to one yet not another?”

The student said “not one person” directly told him they were bothered
by the words on his shirt and that other students had told him
they supported his actions.

Morrison told the committee he felt like the school was telling him
it wasn’t OK for him to have an opposing point of view and that he didn’t
go to school that day to “hurt feelings or cause trouble.”

“I have learned a lot from this experience.
I learned that a lot of other students share my view.
I learned that adults don’t always do the right thing or make
the right decisions.
I know that I have a right to wear a shirt with those five words.
Even at 12 years old, I have my own political opinions and
I have a right to express those opinions.
Even at school.
This right is called the First Amendment to the Constitution,” he stated.
(my emphasis)

“My hope in being here tonight is to bring the School
Committee’s attention to this issue.
I hope that you will speak up for the rest of us,
so we can express ourselves without being pulled out of class.
Next time, it may not only be me.
There might be more soon that decide to speak out.”

Fox News Digital reached out to Middleborough Public Schools for comment but has yet to receive a response.

regardless

Truth will always be truth, regardless of lack of understanding,
disbelief or ignorance.
W. Clement Stone

Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless
of the temperature of the heart.
Corrie Ten Boom

(tulips abound / Julie Cook / 2023)

Despite today’s current very cold dreary rain, Spring continues to come regardless…
Despite the dire hurdles we face as mortal Christians, Christ comes regardless!!
Alleluia…

Christ God, awe-inspiring name, vision of majesty,
inscrutable image of sublimity, infinite force,
model of the light of salvation, defender of life,
gate to the kingdom of heavenly rest,
path of tranquility,
refuge of renewal that ends sadness,
almighty sovereign of all being,
call to blessing,
voice of good news,
proclamation of bliss,
salve of immortality,
indescribable son of the one and only God.
What is impossible for me is easy for you.
What is beyond my reach was put there by you.
What is inaccessible for me is close to you.
What is hidden from me in my fallen state
is within view for your beatitude.
What is impossible for me is done by you.
What is incalculable for me is already tallied by you, who are beyond telling.
What is despair for me is consoling for you.
What is incurable for me is harmless for you.
What is sighing for me is rejoicing for you.
What is heavy for me is light for you.
What effaces me is written for your power.
What is lost for me is conquered for you.
What is inexpressible for me is comprehensible for you.
What is gloom for me is radiance for you.
What is infinite for me you hold in the palm of your blessed hand.
What is somber for me is refreshing for you.
What sets me to flight, you withstand.
What holds me in check, you handily turn back.
What is fatal for me is nothing before your
almighty essence.

St. Grigor Narekatsi
Prayer 57 A
from the book:
Speaking with God from the Depths of the Heart