The Mountains of Mourne

         
          I love listening to Celtic music.  My favorite groups are Celtic Thunder and Celtic Woman.  There is a song by Celtic Thunder called "The Mountains of Mourne" that makes some good points.  It comes across as having old fashioned and over-used themes.  Yet these are things we face every day.  I think that if people didn't dismiss them so quickly and actually thought about them more often, there wouldn't be half so many that made these mistakes.


The Mountains of Mourne

Oh Mary this London's a wonderful sight

With people here workin' by day and by night

They don't sow potatoes, nor barley, nor wheat

But there's gangs of them diggin' for gold in the street

At least when I asked them that's what I was told

So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold

But for all that I found there I might as well be

In the place where the dark Mourne sweep down to the sea.

There's beautiful girls here, Oh never you mind

Beautiful shapes nature never designed

Lovely complexions of roses and cream

But let me remark with regard to the same

That if at that those roses you venture to sip

The colours might all come away on your lips

So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me

In the place where the dark Mourne sweep down to the sea.

You remember young Davey Mc Clarin of course

Well sure, now, he's round here with the rest of the force

I saw him one day as I was crossin’ the strand

And he stopped the whole street with a wave of his hand
And as we stood talkin’ of days that are gone

The whole town of London stood there to look on

But for all his great powers he's wishful like me

To be back where the dark Mourne sweep down to the sea

But for all his great powers he's wishful like me

To be back where the dark Mourne sweep down to the sea





          The song is about a man writing a letter to Mary (who is likely his girlfriend).  He describes the people in the city and the things that they do.  All of them seem promising at first.  But then he realizes how useless and fake they all are and he yearns to be home where life is more simple and the sea and beautiful mountains are nearby.
          Firstly, when the man goes to London (and this could be true where ever you are in the world) he sees people digging for gold instead of planting crops.  The significance is that they are trying to earn money fast instead of work hard and being patient.  It's like all of those "get-rich-quick" schemes that you here about.  But they hardly ever work.  So he decides that since he's wasting his time he might as well be in the place that he loves doing honest labor.  That's true of anyone.  You could also stretch it a bit and say that it's better to work hard doing what you love than working for the money.
          Secondly, he talks about the beautiful girls in the city.  They almost don't seem natural because they are so lovely.  He admires them, but soon realizes how fake they really are.  I love the line, "if at that those roses you venture to sip / The colours might all come away on your lips".  He's content to wait till he gets home to his wild, but true rose.  He is probably talking about Mary, which I think is sooooo sweet.  " I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me / In the place where the dark Mourne sweep down to the sea."  He is saying that even though the girls there are beautiful beyond belief, he'd still rather have her.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!  Sorry, that was the girlish, romantic side of me showing through.  It's a good example of how beauty is in the heart.  How girls expect a man to love them when they constantly wear a mask is beyond me.
          Then he runs into an old friend of his, Davey McClarin, who has grown up and become very powerful in the city.  So powerful that the whole city stops and is silent when he commands it.  Yet even Davey admits that power isn't everything.  He misses the simpler, homey life back in the Mountains of Mourne.  Power isn't all people crack it up to be.  You miss so many of the sweet and simple things in life.
          I like this song.  It has a very simple tune which only makes its point even better.  You can't really find it by Celtic Thunder on YouTube though, which is sad.  You can hardly find any of their songs on their.  It's easier to find Celtic Woman songs, but I get tired of watching them parade around in their dresses.  Celtic Thunder is much more interesting to watch.  RABBIT TRAIL!  Sorry!
          I wish modern music were more like this.  I miss the simple morals and themes that encouraged real, attainable happiness.    
           

Canadian Poetry and College

          I have just recently moved into a dorm at Western Washington University in Bellingham, WA.  Classes start tomorrow and I'm getting excited...and nervous.  Oh not scared in the way most students are at this time.  I'm not too worried about the workload or the studying (that much anyway).  I am very anxious about how my time at college will affect my character and my future chance/choices.  I want to stay true to myself, and yet be able to explore all that I can be.  I want to improve myself, but sometimes change for the sake of change becomes negative change. 

          Also, I want to make a difference.  I know that is a completely cliche thing to say, but it's true.  I don't care right now about a really wide sphere of influence and fame like many do.  Eventually I want to be an High School or college English teacher and that will include a great deal of influence.  But for now I simply want to make people's lives better for knowing me.  Not just feel-good/happy/makes me smile better.  If I make someone hate me for the rest of their life, and yet plant a seed in their mind that eventually leads them to making better decisions or turns them to God (even if they don't realize it) I'll be happy with that.  I don't plan on making enemies.  I know a lot of people think I hate everyone because I'm not the always-smiling and constantly-chipper and likes-everyone type.  My mother has scolded me for years about not being more social.  That has already changed quite a bit in my first few days as a college student (it's easier to make friends and meet people when no one knows anyone, everyone needs new friends, and no one has any prior expectations about you).  Yet I am not about to give into post-modernistic ideas that everything is okay and there are no moral absolutes.  In short I want to spread God's love and message to those around me.  It doesn't have to be through words necessarily.  Leading by example is often the best method.  And I will need God's help to keep strong and choose the right course. 

          This poem comes from a book of poetry that I picked up in Victoria, Canada of all places.  The author is Donald A. Fraser and his poetry is amazing!  I've read the whole book (Pebbles and Shells) a dozen times and my favorite poems hundreds!  The book itself is old, and was published in 1909 (I LOVE old books!!!!!).  There is one poem in particular that I think describes my hopes perfectly.

The Builder    

"gloomy heath"

An angel came and carried me away

To where a lonely wilderness held sway

For leagues around.  Its dreary face was strewed

With stunted scrub and rocky fragments rude;

No human habitation soothed my eye;

So sight save gloomy heath and leaden sky.

The angel set me in the midst, and said:

"Build."  And in great amaze I turned my head,

And gazed about.  "Build what?"  I cried, but lo!

The angel vanished ere I saw him go.

In grief I threw myself upon the ground,

And lay sometime, as one doth in a swound;

But ever was my sleep with visions filled

Of that stern angel who aye bade me "Build."

"Build, build,"

I rose.  a wild-fowl cleft the barren sky;

"Build, build," too, seemed the burden of his cry;

And echoed, "Build," a cricket in the grass.

"What shall I build, and how?"  I cried.  "Alas!

What can he build who no supplies commands?

How can he build who has no tools save hands?"

I sat me down upon a grassy mound,

And as my sullen glances stole around,

I saw a tiny ant, with fervid will,

At ceaseless work upon her patient hill;

"Can I not do the same,"

A grain of sand, a little piece of straw,

A withered leaf --of such materials raw

She built her home.  "Why then," aloud cried I,

"Can I not do the same, and, striving, try

To rear myself a hut, a dwelling, found

Of such crude things as here are strewn around?"

"O God," I cried, "help me myself to help!

O Thou, who carest for the lion's whelp,

Aid me, Thy child, with all my might, to do

this solemn task which Thou hast set me to."

In eager haste I doffed my coat, and seized

Rough blocks of stone, and these up-piled, and squeezed

Into the crevices thick plaster-mud

That edged a near-by springlet's precious flood.

A doorway and a window-space I left

"Rough blocks of stone, and these up-piled"

In the coarse walls:  and then, with hands grown deft,

I sloped the growing walls, till o'er my head

They well-nigh met;  when, last of all, I spread

A large flat stone that taxed my utmost strength;

And thus my humble cot was built at length.

A couch I made upon the earthen floor

Of the parched grass that spread the moorland o'er.

When this was done the day had gone to rest

Beyond the distant portals of the west.

With my mind and body tired, I stood before

My feeble work, and slowly gazed it o'er.

As well as I knew how my time I'd spent;

Within me rose a feeling of content;

And so, though rude the work and bleak the scene,

Peace filled my heart where once despair had been.

"my Lord and Master stood within."

Then knelt I on the sward, and thanks to God

I gave; but as I raised me from the sod,

I heard again the angel's ringing voice,

But now more soft and kind.  He cried "Rejoice,

O Man!  and see how God hath blessed thy pain."

I turned, and there before my vision plain

Now rose a temple where my hut had been;

And lo, my Lord and Master stood within.

          Please excuse the old fashioned spelling, grammar, and pacing.  I copied it exactly from the book.

          I hope to use what God has, and will, give me and do the best I can with it.  Maybe, with His blessing, it will become something beautiful and wonderful that will be an asset and not a blight to the world.

         

Pictures Worth Their Own Story

         

          As an author, I'm constantly imagining.  Everything I see goes through my eyes, is translated, and gets sent to the Creative Department, then it gets put in the What If? machine.  When I hear a song, I hear a possible story soundtrack.  When I see a picture, I see a potential story.  That's one of the reasons why I like Pinterest so much.  I have 15 boards dedicated to book ideas.  Here are some pictures that instantly bring stories to mind.

     

This picture could go several different ways.  The girl's body position suggests either independence or, added with her slightly red nose and squinty eyes, sadness.  When I see this picture, I can imagine many different things about this girl.  Here are just a few.  1) She's been through some tough situations and is silently asking (with her eyes) the one person who might be able to help her for any last minute ideas.  2) She has been waiting for this kind of a challenge her whole life and she's not daunted by the prospect at all.  3) She's a nature fey, just daring you to try to follow her.  If you try she'll disappear into the snow and trees.  4) She's scared of the coming winter and the dangers ahead.  But as scared as she may be, she's not going to let fear stop her from taking care of her little brother and sister.

 

No matter which way you interpret this picture, you can't escape the girl's sheer joy.  1) She's the outcast in her small farming village.  She's quiet and dreamy.  When she takes the cows out to the moors she takes her father's old violin with her and plays music that embodies the spirit of the moor flowers and the joy of the soaring moor birds.  2) She is playing for a group of enraptured village children, which include her own small siblings.  She plays all their favorite nursery tunes and makes up simple songs to go along with the fairy stories she tells them.  3) She's a Elvin maiden who plays enchanted music to make the flowers bloom and create dwellings out of living trees.  4) She has a secret ability to use magic when she plays her violin.  Right now she is making her teasing, elder brothers and their friends hop about as their shoe laces tie themselves into knots, the straw brooms try to sweep them away, and the slop buckets upend over their heads.



1) This girl has been hunted for years for a crime she didn't commit.  She is constantly on the move.  She never stays in the same place for long.  She'd hoped that they'd eventually stop searching for her.  But in twelve years they've never given up.  Right now she can hear the song of the red-eyed hounds baying in the distance.  The rain will give her a head start...but not for long...  2) They were after Patrick.  But he couldn't run any more.  She'd left him covered in blankets and brush in a thicket.  He'd protested, but he was too weak by now to do anything but whisper.  She'd given him water and waited for him to pass out again.  The fever hadn't lessened in over four days.  She had to lead them away.  She took Patrick's cloak and then made marks on the trees in a circle around him.  Old Mag would find him.  Hopefully before it was too late.  But now it was time to run.  Letting the long cloak drag on the ground she darted through the trees until the came to the edge of the rolling hills.  She stopped to catch her breath near a group of rocks.  There was no where to hide out there.  But she had no choice.  She knew they were only hours behind her.  Steeling herself, she loped steadily through the rain.

 

1) Bitterness scarred her heart.  She'd never go back to her mother's house.  She'd rather die at sea than spend one more day there.  Even the memory of her father couldn't keep her there anymore.  Her mother called her reckless.  Well she had no idea...  2) Anger hardened her resolve.  Betrayers!  I'll be back one day.  They'll see just how quick my rapier can be.  They'll feel the kiss of its bite.  I will take back my father's lands.  This is not good-bye.  Just a promise of future revenge.



1) She carried the sun around in her pocket.  Only when she danced did she take it out and hold it aloft.  2) She was the dancing sun beams.  She was the orange sunset.  She was beautiful.  She was graceful.  She was the wife of the sun.



 

 Every century it was the same.  An immortal sorceress lived on the edge of a wood and collected herbs for a living.  Once every century, on the solstice she headed into the dark icy wood until she reached a clearing that was more than half full with a very large, very old, white dragon.  She set down her basket and reached up to touch his snout.  "Good to see you old friend."  The dragon snorted a shower of icy sparks over her in response.  Smiling she reached for a handful of the contents of her basket.  little by little, she fed the thyme to the dragon.  He began to shrink and grow healthy again.  Soon he was the size of a strong yearling and came up only to her knee.  The sorceress dusted off her hands and stroked the dragon's wings.  He rubbed his head against her leg and nibbled playfully at the hem of her skirt.     



 As the final preparations were being made she slipped away.  Caleb and Lauren would take care of last minute details.  She removed her sword and sheath from her belt and sat by a stream.  Looking down the valley she took a moment to appreciate the calm.  As soon as the sun cleared the mountain pass the battle would begin.  Lives would be lost today.  One of them could be hers.  She wanted to give into fear, but she was the one everyone would be looking to for strength.  She allowed herself the luxury of worrying for a few minutes.  What if we fail?  What if I die?  What if I fail my people?  What if I'm too scared?  A bird called in a high sinning voice from a nearby tree.  She took a deep breath of the cold winter air.  She watched the sun creep over the horizon and savored the last few minutes of peace before the storm. 

 Ren was long gone.  It had been years since he'd been called to the sea.  He had no choice.  As his father before him he became the heart and soul of the sea.  His spirit dissolved into the waves and he ruled the oceans as an invisible Lord.  Yet even with all his great power, he could not buy one more minute of time by his young bride's side.  He hadn't meant to fall in love.  He knew it would only end in heartache for both of them.  But when he explained his prewritten destiny to Marline, she said she'd rather enjoy the few years that they had together.  So they married, and when Ren was called to fulfill his duty, Marline became the wife of the sea.  She'd go down to he shore and stand on the rocks.  She'd listen to the crash of the waves and imagine she heard Ren's voice.  He still took care of her.  She was never in want of fresh food from the sea, and whenever she traveled out in her small boat the waves calmed before the bow and the current pushed her on without aid.  Marline was only melancholy when she was called away from the coast.  As long as she could smell the salt spray and feel the sea wind, she felt like Ren was right beside her with his arm around her shoulders.



She was one of the pack.  At night her black hair mingled with the many shades of gray, white, and black fur as they all lay close together for warmth.  She ran with them during the day.  The snow and the cold didn't bother her at all.  Her feet were bare, but she felt nothing.  She knew every pack member by name.  They accepted her just as she accepted them.  They were a family. 



          Every now and then if I find a picture that really speaks to me I'll post it here with my thoughts on the story behind it.

"Flawed Perfection"

Rachelle (aka Ninja) and Renee at the
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2
midnight premiere



          My amazing friend and roommate, Rachelle just created a blog of her own.  She's entitled it "Flawed Perfection" which I think is a ninja title (and she didn't take forever to come up with it like I did : \ )  If you like my blog, read hers!  Renee , my other friend/roommate is considering writing a blog too.  Seems I've set a new trend for Room 227!  Love you guys!  :-D



Renee and Me (Darlee)





Me (Darlee) and Rachelle



 



Jumping Off A Cliff

          "Don't judge."  We hear it all around us every day.  I had a friend for years who used it as an excuse for everything.  But I say that discriminating for unjust reasons is far from using morals to determine the right course.  Because there IS a right and wrong, people!  No matter how much our modern philosophers might try to tell us differently.  In more educated terms, there are absolute truths.  There is no way around it.  If a person jumps off a cliff, no matter how much they may sincerely believe that they had wings, they will still fall to their death without some sort of equipment.  Gravity is an absolute truth.

          So when I choose to do or not do something that offends some one else because it indicates that I believe they are wrong in some way, I'm not hating them.  I am hating the sin.  I am choosing to do something different from them because there are many morals and values that cannot be bent to fit every and any lifestyle.  Some things are wrong no matter how much you try to twist, hide, or excuse them. 

          This in no way makes me a hater.  Just because I don't agree with everyone on everything doesn't mean that I can't love them as fellow children of God.  Christians, don't get discouraged by this kind of negative feedback.  You cannot force people to change their minds.  But you CAN live a life pleasing to God that shows people that you are not a hypocrite  and that this way of thinking is not hurtful like they claim it to be.

Pippin's Song

          Lord of the Rings has one of the best soundtracks in the whole world.  But I will say, one of the best parts is Pippin's song in "Return of the King"  The sorrow and grief in the music is heartbreaking.  The lack of sound from the battle only deepens the emotion you feel while watching this.  I guess I should give a little background of this scene for those crazy people who haven't seen or read Lord of the Rings.  (What are you waiting for?!)  For those of you who have read/seen LOTR, you can skip ahead or speed read through this explanation while twiddling your thumbs to express your impatience.  Faramir's father, the Steward of Gondor, loved Boromir, Faramir's late elder brother more than anything.  He shunned Faramir for not living up to his brother's greatness.  He openly blames Faramir for things that were far beyond his control.  Soon, the Steward orders Faramir to embark on what everyone knows is a suicide mission to reclaim one of their cities from an army of orcs.  Even knowing full well that this is basically a death sentence, Faramir agrees.  Perhaps he vainly hoped that his death would at last earn him his father's love.  Perhaps he'd simply given up all hope.  I'd need to study the books a bit more to make a more definite hypothesis as to Faramir's motives.  The Steward's cold-hearted indifference to his son in this scene is horrible.  He calmly eats his lunch while he knows full well that Faramir is charging toward and impossible situation under his orders.  I'll not be spoiling the movie/book by telling you what happens.  But seriously...READ/WATCH the series!!!  And I dare you not to tear up while watching this scene.

Sherwood Pictures

                                         

          I highly recommend all of the Sherwood Pictures movies.  All four movies were made in Georgia by Sherwood Baptist Church.  So far there has been "Flywheel", "Facing the Giants", "Fireproof", and "Courageous".  They made the films hoping to spread the Christian message through television.  "Flywheel" is about a used car salesman who cheats his customers and eventually turns his life around.  I know it doesn't sound very interesting, but I promise you, it really is a fascinating and amazing movie.  It delves into the human heart and shows how God works in out lives.  "Facing the Giants" is about a high school football coach who has hit hard times.  Full of hilarious scenes as well as wonderful, inspiring message, I've watched this movie dozens of times and never gotten bored.  "Fireproof" centers around the problem of divorce.  It defines true love and how God ties into marriage.  This film has saved thousands of marriages all over the country.  Even if you're not married, it's a wonderful guideline and a great story.  "Courageous" is about what it means to be a good father.  Missing or neglectful fathers cause so much of our countries problems.  Here we see what God expects of a father and how that formula really could make this world a better place.

         

          They made the first film, "Flywheel" on a small budget.  The above clip is 34 minutes long, but it is well worth watching.  It shows the making of "Flywheel" and why they decided to make these movies in the first place.  If you can't watch it all...well, just know that it was an amazing act of God.

          This is a scene from "Facing the Giants" known as The Death Crawl.  You may have seen it.  It's been used for many a leadership and motivational presentation.  

          These are bloopers from "Fireproof".  This film was a little different because they had an outside celebrity actor playing the main character.  Kirk Cameron from the Left Behind movies played Caleb Holt.  In the bloopers you can see many of the pranks and jokes they played on him.  Even though he's new, they all act like one huge family. 

   

 

          This is a scene from the latest movie, "Courageous".  Don't worry, there are no spoilers.  But I have to say, this is one of the funniest scenes I've ever seen! 

Speed Reading

The connection between reading speed and comprehension; a film is made up of still images flashed in rapid succession to simulate movement. Slow down the film, and the movement and meaning slows and the film's impact is diminished. Viewers won't learn as much about the film as if it were shown at normal speed. With reading the same thing can happen. When a person reads word by word, like frame by frame, they are not reading on the level of ideas. You need to read on some level that's more conversational and allows things to coalesce into ideas themselves.

- Doug Evans, Institute of Reading Development

          People always talk about how freakishly fast I read.  Especially when it comes to a book that I really like, I can finish it in just a few hours.  When I'm reading a textbook or something hard to understand, I often read each paragraph twice.  I'll read it once to get an idea about what the main idea is.  Then I'll really take in the details the second time.  And I still finish at the same rate as most people because I read so fast.  If I try going slow, the concepts slip through my mind without leaving anything behind.  The example of the film frames is a good way to explain it.  Another could be music.  If you listen to a song one note at a time with a space in between each one, it won't sound like a melody.  When you play them together in quick succession you get the way it's supposed to sound. 

Mission Impossible: Choosing a Favorite Book

         

          I absolutely love to read.  I've read hundreds, maybe thousands of books and I don't intend to stop any time soon.  I prefer the fantasy genre but I have many different favorites.  Here is a list of some of my favorite books.  Of course asking a book lover what their favorite book is is like asking a mother to choose between her children.  So it should come as no surprise that the list is a lengthy one. 

• The Hunger Games series
• The Harry Potter series
• The Chronicles of Narnia
• Pride and Prejudice
• Emma
• Sense and Sensibility
• Mansfield Park
• Persuasion
• The Lord of the Rings
• Jackie's Wild Seattle
• Beauty
• Love Comes Softly series
• The Tiger's Curse series
• The Percy Jackson series
• The Heros of Olympus series
• Eight Cousins
• Rose in Bloom
• Heidi
• Little Women
• Little Men
• The Enchanted Forest series
• The Moorchild
• The Inheritance Saga (aka the Eragon series)
• Book of a Thousand Days
• Wings
• The Goose Girl
• The Swan Kingdom
• Ella Enchanted
• The Princess Achademy
• Alanna the Lioness series
• The Immortals series
• Protector of the Small series
• Alex Rider series
• The Shadow Children series
• The Two Princesses of Bamarre
• Writing Magic
• Fairest
• Princess of the Midnight Ball
• Holes
• Jane Eyre
• The Host
• City of Ember
• Hatchet
• Brian's Winter
• Dragon Rider
• Violet Eyes
• Beastly
• The Secret Garden
• Jo's Boys
• Pebbles and Shells
• A Little Princess
• Wildwood Dancing
• Cybel's Secret
• Entwined
• Divergent
•  

         

          Knowing me I'll probably edit this page to add more books as time goes on.  :)

New Orleans Videos

          This is the slide show that we put together after my first New Orleans mission trip.  I took a lot of the pictures.  I love the first song in particular.  You'll see pictures of us working, of our short side trip to a beach in Mississippi, the notes we wrote on the wooden framing of the house I was working on, some very unflattering pictures of me, us in the French Quarter, the one space heater we had to keep us warm, some street musicians, the Katrina Museum, Collin getting completely clotheslined playing Red Rover, even short video of us singing in front of Cafe Du Monde.  The "Two Scoops" thing at the end is a bit of an inside joke.  Every morning Mrs. McCrady would wake us up by shouting/singing "Moooooore raisins!  More juicy raisins!  More juicy raisins than you've ever had before!  Mooooooore raisins!  More juicy raisins!  More juicy raisins than you've ever had before!  TWO SCOOPS!!!"  A bit random, but something we all remembered with smiles.  There are worse ways to wake up in the morning than laughing at your teacher singing this funny song.  :)

          This is a video from my second year in New Orleans.  We went to dinner with one of the sight managers and her son, Rodney.  Rodney claimed that he was a good dancer.  We asked him for a demonstration but he was too shy until Nate volunteered/was volunteered to do it with him.  You can't hear it very well but they are dancing to a Micheal Jackson song.  The whole thing was incredibly funny!  Everyone was laughing so hard.  :)

The Home We Are Building

          The second year I went to New Orleans, I wrote a second poem for the daily web update.  I didn't win any awards for this one, but it is still dear to my heart.

Home

Home

Four simple symbols

Two vertical lines

Plus a horizontal

A circle

Two small hills

Like tiny speed bumps

A half-circle

With a curved tail

Home

Such a simple word

Yet all the words

In the whole world

Could never describe it

Home

Two small boys

Racing friction cars

Down a long hallway.

Home

Daddy and a baby girl

Asleep on the porch swing

In the soft evening sun.

Home

Grandma struggles downstairs

To make her grandchildren

Breakfast before school.

Home

The kids carefully

Avoid the squeaky step

And let mama nap.

Home

A teenager moves quick

To shove the whole big mess

Into the small closet.

Home

A woman puts away work

And sits with her tea

Simply enjoying the peace.

Home

Sneaking quietly downstairs

On Christmas Eve

Hoping to spot Santa.

Home

Reaching under the pillow

And where a tooth once was

Is now a shiny quarter.

Home

The boy’s old room

Kept just the same

When he died serving his country.

Home

Little Daisy always losing

At hide and seek because

She always hides in the closet.

Home

Lives and deaths

Pots and pans

Walls and roof

Quilts and rugs

Floors and stairs

Dreams and nightmares

Small miracles

Baby’s first steps

Songs past down

Stories shared

Memories

Thoughts

That is what makes

A Home

When it’s gone,

When the family stands

On their old front steps

Staring

At a plain concrete slab

All that’s left

Of the house that held

Thousands of times shared.

As they watch,

Without walls or roof

To hold them in,

The memories float away

Like a breeze

Clearing away smoke.

They can never be replaced

All you can do

Is move on,

Though your heart longs

To chase after the wisps

Of escaped memories

Like trying to grasp

A shaft of moonlight.

But you must continue

And build a new place,

A treasure chest,

To hold all the new memories.

This is the home

We are building 

          

          Some of the things mentioned in here are specific instances that were special to our mission trip.  The friction cars came from something that started the first year I went on the trip.  We usually split into 2-3 groups that each work on a different house during the week.  The group I wasn't in was working on this one house and they kept saying how the hallway there was long and straight and perfect for kids to race friction cars down it like Mrs. McCrady used to do as a kid.  The second year I went, we were able to stop by the house and see it now that it was completed.  No one was living there yet and we got to look around.  The hallway WAS perfect.  Mrs. McCrady declared that she would personally buy the toy cars and give instructions for them to be given to the homeowners. 

          The third paragraph which lists a lot of random items and memories comes from something we saw our second year.  On our last day we got done with our house early and so we headed over to the other two houses which were side by side.  Across the street from them was an abandoned house with nothing but rotting floorboards and bare supports inside.  The door had fallen in, so we decided to investigate.  There was no furniture or personal belongings.  The garage was filled with a pile of rotting boards obviously taken from the house.  There were several holes in the floor.  Then we went into what was the front room.  There was a simple window seat covered with an assortment of random items that must have been gathered from the rubble.  There were many scraps of paper, a bent pot, a single baby slipper, several framed photos including a framed copy of a poem a daughter had written for her daddy, a spoon, an old lantern, and much more.  We looked at it all and not one of us could escape the intense sadness of looking at these mementos of lives forever changed.  You could feel the memories attached to every item.  One couldn't help but be moved. 

          Also, the slab of concrete is significant.  We drove down to the lower ninth ward, which got hit the hardest in the hurricane, several times.  In many places there is no evidence of a home at all besides a concrete slab and a pair of concrete steps leading to a porch that no longer exists.  This was another sight that never ceased to make us stop and think.  All of these things inspired and touched us.  We saw how the seemingly little things we did really did make a difference in these peoples' lives.  Who cannot help but be changed by experiences like these?