Tuesday, September 14, 2021

thoughts and memories during my morning walk

We have been blessed with brisk breezes lately.  When I walk, with the leaves whispering above and around me, it brings me comfort; what a lovely, soft noise it is.   I notice a few leaves already falling, reminding me why we call autumn "fall".  I picked up four of them to share, as a reminder.


 I remembered Iowa autumns back when I attended a one-room country school where grades primary through eighth grade were taught by a single teacher, Mrs. Eighmy.  She was my teacher for three years, and like most young children, I loved my teacher and thought she was the prettiest lady I'd ever seen.  I recalled the time another primary student, a boy, and I were playing at the sandbox up front whispering and Mrs. Eighmy tapped me on the head with her pencil for talking; she might as well have beaten me!  It shamed and embarrassed me, and broke my heart.  I think I got over it by the next day, though.

An Iowa magazine did an article about Skinner School that included one of my most cherished pictures from childhood.  I've shared it on my blog many times, but I have some newer readers these days, so I'll share it again.  I'm at the second-from-the-back desk on the right side, that dull-looking little girl in a green-and-yellow dress made by my mother; she made all my clothes back then, using mostly the same pattern.

Inspired by the whispering breeze in the trees as I walked, I remembered a song we sang at Skinner School.  I looked on YouTube and found other versions and other tunes, but the tune we learned wasn't there, so I guess you'll have to listen to me; never fear, it's a very short song.  Oh, and the only wind you'll hear is the wind blowing around my camera.  I was lying beneath the cottonwood tree, the noisiest whisperer on the place.  I'm sorry you couldn't hear it.


Just to show you how my mind wanders as I walk, I was then reminded of the prophet Elijah, waiting to hear from God.  First there came a huge windstorm, but God wasn't in the windstorm.  Next came an earthquake, but God wasn't in that either.  After the earthquake, a fire, but God wasn't there.  Finally Elijah heard a still, small voice:  That was the voice of God.

I believe He often speaks to us in a still, small voice even now.  

12 comments:

  1. Awwwww... what a beautiful picture of you, Donna! I wish things were still like that today. I find myself thinking more and more of life in the 1950-60s and how things used to be. I hope heaven is just like that! ~Andrea xoxoxo

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  2. I don't think you look dull at all in the photo, and I love your musings as you walk. They are interesting and inspirational.

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  3. Sadly, there aren't many of those one room school houses left anymore, at least in my neck of the woods. The only ones that remain belong to the Amish. Even most of the old brick 2 and 3 story buildings of my youth are now gone.

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    1. A lot of the grounds owned by tractor clubs have moved a one-room schoolhouse onto the grounds. I believe the Old Thresher's Reunion in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, has one.

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  4. Donna, I don’t know if I’ve told you how pretty you sing! You were a pretty little girl! I love your dress!

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    1. I consider my singing voice very ordinary, but thanks for the compliment.

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  5. You are a cute little girl in the picture, not dull looking at all. Isn't it nice to have the old clipping from the local paper. We sure don't have that anymore in our local paper, if you can call it that anymore. A page or two of nothing :-)
    I love fall and am so glad its cooled down here. All our days of high 90's that we in MN are not used to was brutal for us. Now the leaves are starting to turn and slowly drift down just waiting for my daycare kids to get a pile and jump in.
    Your song was lovely. You do have a very nice voice and do a wonderful job singing for us. Don't stop please Wendy

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  6. I could hear the wind in your song! I thought the dress was lovely and what a great photo to have! What a wonderful share.

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  7. Glad you shared the school picture one more time as I have never seen it. Sister Patsy went to a similar school, but by 1956 it had consolidated. My older brother dropped out of school after grade 8. He did not want to go to the “town” school. The town kids did not wear overalls and that was all he had to wear. He dropped out. Daddy tried to get him to go. He ran away a foot. He got a job milking cows and slept in the man’s barn. He never went to school again.

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    1. My mom wanted to go to Jr. High and High school, but her dad thought it wasn't a good place for girls to go, so she just took the 7th and 8th grades over again. My dad only went through the fifth grade.

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  8. Yes, I also believe God speaks to us as a still small voice!

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  9. I LOVE that picture of you in your classroom! It could be a Norman Rockwell painting! I love your singing Donna.

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