Christmas is for Children

Christmas is for Children                       10-17-2011

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Christmas is for children; we all know that.  The lights reflected in young eyes.  The anticipation that grows with each day.  Smiles all around and the best behavior we have seen all year.  Yes, Christmas is for children!  The fresh sounds of young voices singing old familiar carols.  Small hands decorating cookies.  Impatient faces looking longingly at the treasures beneath the tree.

Christmas is for children.  Must growing up take away the magic?  Perhaps we forget to see the wonder…the first snow…the tree with its lights… Perhaps we are unable…too busy…too mature.  Has reality pushed the Christmas we once knew aside?  It’s just the way it is.  Because Christmas is for children.

Nothing truer has ever been said!  Yes indeed, Christmas is for children.  All those free enough to accept it with hearts and arms wide open.  Have we forgotten…we are all somebody’s child.  Perhaps parents ourselves we do not view ourselves that way.  Years we strove to leave our childhood behind.  Though the years pass, one thing never changes…you…me…everyone…are children.  No matter what part of life we find ourselves…it is one thing we never out grow.

Christmas is for children…it is for you…for me.  For you are after all your parent’s child…but much more…you are God’s!

Merry Christmas!!!

(210 Words)

Only One More

Only One More               7-2-2013

By John W. Vander Velden

Shudder at the thought…that there could be a time when I would only be able to write one last piece.  Would I choose something meaningful to a family member…some words of wisdom to pass?  Would I find a desperate need to explain a past deed or beg forgiveness for some grievous action?  Would I pour myself into something masterful…that I would hope might endure.  I fear I would squander away the time and opportunity by the inability to make a decision.

Perhaps it must begin with what I hope my simple words could accomplish…why I write in the first place.  I am first and foremost a storyteller…It might be considered my crown or my curse.  Many stories roam around, within my cranium, yearning to find life upon the page.  What do these stories have in common…that is other than having the same source…well sorta’?  I feel each has some lesson buried inside…some obvious…others not so much.  But each of these stories are an extension of ME…whether I like or not. 

So what would I wish to say in my final written words?  Maybe it would be time to stop beating around the bush…go directly to what matters most.  So what matters most?  What truly needs to be said?  Decision time again…  I believe in the basic goodness of people…some might disagree.  The news shows so much of the other side, it would be easy to believe that all goodness had left on the “last train to the coast” (Don McLane, “Bye, Bye, American Pie”).  And I will not debate, that we are all so very far from perfect.  But I would wish I could convince others, that we are made by GOD and “GOD don’t make no junk”.  But how?

Maybe that’s what I’m doing.  Perhaps all the stories I have composed, and all the stories I will create, are patches on a quilt made up of their sum.  The happy stories the sad…the serious works and the lighthearted…the short essays and scarce bit of poetry…the short stories and the novels are all bits of the whole.  That together they make up the one thing I am to write.  Just as it takes many bricks to build a house, perhaps it takes all these stories…those written and those begging to see day’s light, to become the one thing that really matters.

(403 Words)

Road Trip

Road Trip

By John W. Vander Velden               6-4-2014

 

I guess people travel differently than we did when I was young, in the days before Interstate Highways, when the road taken went through every town large and small that stood in our way.  There was a time we lived in Florida and those years we made the pilgrimage back to Indiana each year.  Typically the journey took the better part of three days -- providing we stated early.  We always started early.  The filled 59 Chevy Biscayne, with six and later seven, made for long days.

But staring out the window at the ever changing landscape revealed a portion of what America was then.  Looking out across the farmland or what seemed the endless ups and downs of the Appalachians as we moved on the many two lane highways.  One particularly hot day, for cars were not air conditioned then, I remember the slow traffic and the endless row of stop lights as we made our way through the heart of Nashville.  The child, I was, wondered why the traffic signals were painted black.  That memory has left me avoiding that city even today.  Perhaps it is a silly notion for many adore the Music Capital.  But this country boy much prefers open spaces -- I guess I’m allowed my preferences -- I will allow you yours.

As a third grader, I had not full developed my understanding of U.S. geography.  The time spent traversing Georgia and Alabama seemed to stretch toward eternity but we crossed Tennessee and Kentucky in a matter of hours.  My favorite part was the grand horse farms of the Kentucky green hills.  The miles of white fence that raced beside us along the road.  The land so groomed as mile after mile, farm after farm filled my young eyes with wonder.

We didn’t have those electronic wonders that fill the lives of travelers today.  My nephews scarcely noticed the world beyond as they spent hours on attempting to complete some game or another.  It passed the time -- but I wonder.  No, the world is not the same.  In many ways it is better.  Better roads --- better autos -- better ventilation -- better seats – yeah -- better.  Vans have DVD players and video screens to entertain cross country travelers.  But what do they miss?  

But we are all on another “road trip”.  For each day we travel forward on the journey called our life.  And I wonder how the changes in society and technology and our use of all the electronic wonders at our finger tips change that trip as well.  I fear a disconnect caused by “social media” where we engage others on the screen and the person across our table goes unnoticed.  Do we no longer look out of life’s window as the world rushes onward while focused on gadgets, phones with greater intelligence, or the infinite wisdom of “Google”, and doing so purposely disconnect ourselves from those that stand at the roadside waving as we pass by.

We cannot expect the world to return to those times of my past.  Cars move with the windows sealed, the scents of city and country are pretty much left beyond the reach of our noses.  The Interstate highways allow rapid crossing of the distance but also hide so much of the landscape – the ordinary places – that we cross.  So the road trip is not what it once was.  Neither is our everyday “road trip”.  It becomes a challenge – one we can choose if we only will – to use all the tools we have available to not separate but to connect us to those closest – those that desperately need our touch – physical touch  -- those that need real contact – face to face contact.  For my friends, we are all on a “road trip”, on this journey together.    

(633 Words)

Counting

Counting                          11-25-2014

By John W. Vander Velden

There are many ways to view Thanksgiving.  For some it is a time when family and friends gather.  An occasion when they meet for perhaps the only time of the year.  Others consider the holiday a task.  Working to prepare home and meal for many mouths of those with grand appetites.  Then there are the football games.  Some use the time to delve into the sale flyers, as they make plans for Christmas shopping. 

There are many aspects to the fourth Thursday of November, a day, for most, set aside from work.  But perhaps it is a day that deserves a bit of time -- counting.  As children we counted all the time.  We counted the pennies in our bank.  On Halloween we counted the candy in our stash gathered from the neighborhood homes.  We counted checkers and counted cards.  But as we grew older we counted less.  The bank counts our money for us – those that managed to hold onto their pennies from all those years ago.  We take for granted that the deck of cards is complete, and so on. 

Yet there comes a need to assess or in the very least consider the vast number of things in our lives – to count our blessings.  And there is no better time than Thanksgiving.  Though we live in a world where the economy is fueled by purchases, a place where the media bombards us with the things we should have but do not – yet.  We forget, too easily, the bounty of our lives, overlooking the unmeasurable value found in our relationships – family, friends, coworkers and neighbors, and we take for granted ordinary things that make up our every day.

Counting helps, to take stock in the wonders of the world, the glorious sunrises, the summer evening song of the robin whose notes flow on the soft sweet breeze, the shining eyes of a laughing child, the smell of fresh baking, blueberry muffins, on a Sunday morning, the contentment of a task well done, leisurely walks with the one you love, watching the TV on quiet nights, or the innumerable other things that make up our lives.  When begin the count and we will realize the number far beyond our expectation.  Then we will understand how we are truly blessed – blessed by laughter – blessed by love – blessed by life – blessed by God.

Counting should not be reserved for one day, no matter how special that day might be.  We should count often, and while we count be grateful.  No, our lives are not perfect.  No, we will never own all the things we might want.  No, not every day of our lives will be joyful.  For there will be difficult days ahead, just as we have faced the difficult times in our past.  But though past pains might fill our mind and make the counting difficult, yet we should count – and remember – and give thanks for each day, for the joys and yes, for the hard times too.  For the hard times make us strong and give greater joy to all the rest.  

So today count – count the good things in your life.  Count family and home.  Count life and love. And give thanks for the uncountable blessings you have been given.  Open your heart to share with those less fortunate.  Giving is a blessing of its own.  Smile often, it is a gift that costs you nothing but brightens the world around you.  Take a moment to realize the bounty all around you has been given on loan – yours for a time and should be shared.  Thanksgiving is a special day – so make it special by counting.   

(608 Words)

Only One Grain of Sand

Only One Grain of Sand                

By John W. Vander Velden

 

So I ask the question.  If someone gathers a single grain of sand from the beach would it matter?  Would taking a single particle of sand change the beach’s value?  The simple answer would be that a single grain is insignificant.  But I contend that though billions upon billions of grains make up the beach the removal of even one makes the beach less, particularly to the Master of the Beach.

You see the Master of the Beach knows each grain of sand -- recognizes that every grain is unique.  The Master of the Beach knows when each grain came to be, where it was formed, and how it has at last arrived to the particular beach which is its home.  The Master of the Beach knows that each grain has a shape it shares with none other, slight variances of chemical composition, and shades of color.  The Master of the Beach has named each grain -- perhaps a name different than the name the grain of sand might call itself, because no person knows the grain of sand better…especially the grain itself.  The Master of the Beach knows all these things and sees a value invisible to others, how each grain supports others, how each grain matters.

There are those times when we wonder -- wonder how we fit into things.  We wonder about our worth and consider the world and all the people that fill it.  We think of ourselves as but a grain of sand on the beach.  How easily we feel insignificant.  Each day we find ourselves surrounded by others.  Each day we measure ourselves and find ourselves lacking.  We recognize those deemed powerful and important and know that list does not include us.  We wonder if any notice us.  If, when our time on earth is finished, we have made even the smallest of marks. 

But the Master of the Universe knows us. Knows who we are -- what we are -- where we came from -- and the journey that we have traveled.  The Master of the Universe has given each of us a name.  It is the name by which he knows us.  It might not be the name we call ourselves, but is our true name.  Our true purpose has always been part of His plan -- a plan we neither know nor understand.  For each of us is unique, a one of a kind individual like no other, filling a space that only we can fill.  And the Master of the Universe knows that the world would be less -- much less -- without any one of us.

(437 Words)

Transitions

Transitions

By John W. Vander Velden

 

In each person’s life there are those moments when we face changes.  For though we might desire constants, life moves onward in a continual state of flux, and we face new things daily.  But there are those moments in our lives when something dramatic comes to our “timeline”.  Looking backward we see these times clearly -- our graduation -- our marriage -- the birth of our first child -- the list grows with the year count.  Those occasions share more than memories, those times of our evolving life are more than “just” change.  For though we have approached each with different levels of preparedness, we have watched the events as they approached.  We have taken time, time to consider the change, what it means, and what we think will be the result.  Each of us has faced these things, these transitions of our lives.  Moving from High School perhaps to work or college.  The change of living alone to sharing our life with another.  The fear of having a brand new person under our constant care.  But these special type of changes, these transitions, do not exist only in our past.  As we move forward in our lives, changes come, some we choose, others are thrust upon us.  For the one thing that remains constant about life is its continuous change.  Each of us will face, perhaps many times, a moment when we must choose the direction that is best for us or those we love.  At times the change we choose is dramatic -- a transition -- from what we know, into something we think is better.   We see these things coming, and we face these changes with intense seriousness.  But no matter how much we prepare – no matter how much we have “ground our thoughts” to what we anticipate – yet it becomes a matter of faith and trust as we leap from the life we know toward the new life that awaits.

(324 Words)

 

The Road

The Road            2-20-2014

By John W. Vander Velden

For each must walk the road, a route as unique as the individual.  As we travel on that journey, we will encounter forks and crossroads.  Each intersection a choice for us alone, a choice made but once, for there is no returning.  Wisdom does not always play in our choosing, and regret too often rears its head.  The route we choose shapes the travels we make.  Corrections possible, but they do not eliminate foolish wandering.  None pick the perfect path – for no one can see all the pits and potholes, rocks and boulders, hills and valleys that demand our crossing.  Take care when the road seems easy – the smooth way rarely best.  Yet build your strength when the road seems straight and flat, for none reach their destination on that highway alone.  The time comes to all when that energy saved will be needed while the climb is hard or the path veers left and right.  And endurance needed, for all must travel across barren wastes that lie between us and journey’s end.  Times we share the way.  Times we must strive on it seems alone.  For life gives us companions, whose travels join our route.  Some come and walk with us for many years, others but a moment, but in the end our road is our journey and the shared steps may not reach identical ends.  

For each must walk the road, a route as unique as the individual.  But the fortunate relies upon another’s strength when muscles fail.  Hope comes from the unseen – but not the unknown, for they have felt the intangible that never abandons.  They cannot know the obstacles that lie before but have confidence in their destination.  They find joy in the journey – the mountain’s climb difficult but the view at its summit breathtaking.  They realize each day its own reward.  Each challenges strengthen.  Each choice a lesson learned to aid the wanderer. 

For each must walk the road and travel a route unique.  But God has placed you upon your path – and He will not forsake you on your travels – at last guiding you safely home.

  (352 Words)