Cardinal Silhouette

 

The Silhouette Story

A few days after my husband died, a bright red cardinal came to my backyard and splashed around happily in the bird bath.  I had never witnessed this activity before. Then it sat peacefully on the edge of the roof as if keeping watch. The majestic bird seemed to say, “I’m here- look at me”.   I think it was a sign or a symbol of my husband’s spirit.  I know many people believe that when a cardinal appears, an angel is near.  It did make a believer out of me.  Myself and my children now associate the appearance of the red cardinal as a remembrance of their dad.  Four years have passed, and last year I moved to a new home.  However, for three years prior a red cardinal always made his presence known in the backyard.  The backyard that was our family home together for 26 years.  Even now, the new owners have observed the red bird watching over them.  The appearance of a male Northern Cardinal is very distinct and can’t be confused with any other birds.  It has that bright red body, crested head, black face and conical beak.  The Northern Cardinal is our state bird here in North Carolina.  It not only mates for life but stays together with its mate the entire year.  The male cardinal is faithful and dedicated to helping feed their young.  He is a provider.  This describes my husband perfectly.  He was a worker and a provider to our family, dedicated and faithful to me.

We collect a few cardinal memorabilia to remind us of my husband, but one of my favorites was given to me by my youngest son for my Birthday a few years ago.  It was made by an artisan from iron and is the profile of a cardinal looking over his shoulder, with a spike meant to be driven into a tree or post.  It was driven into the girth of a large oak tree in the backyard of our family home.  I suppose I thought it should stay there, so I left it when I moved.  I rethought my decision after moving into my new home.  I wanted that cardinal with me.  The new owners were more than agreeable, so my oldest son somehow pulled it from the mighty oak’s grip.  I proceeded to gently tap the spiked end into the soft wood of a cedar post on the pergola we had built in my new space.  There could not have been a more perfect spot for this piece of art.  It had already rusted, as iron will do, but the rust makes it more beautiful. It is visible from almost every window in my new home.  The morning sun casts a silhouette shadow onto the side of my neighbor’s house, and the silhouette shadow slowly moves as the sun crosses the sky.  It is a sight to behold.

Tammy Harvey

Written:  11/17/2022

Christmas is Comiiiiing

 Christmas Cheer

Green and red, red and green,
Christmas colors we all have seen,
Hanging in the stores and in the street,
Festive decorations make Christmas time complete,
We would assume that everyone can enjoy,
But what about the color-blind little boy?
Two of my sons are red/green colorblind,
A genetic trait, keep in mind,
They see red and green nearly the same,
And it is my genes that are to blame,
Their view of Christmas is hard to comprehend,
Even the colorful fall leaves blend in,
For them, the color distinction is not there,
But then again, they are not aware,
They just don’t know what they are missing,
Which causes me to begin reminiscing,
I never realized that their Christmas cheer,
Throughout their youth and through the years,
Was so hindered by their visual defect,
But their holiday was still joyful, I suspect,
The colors at Christmas are not the reason for joy,
The reason for the season is the birth of a special boy,
The Baby Jesus. Born on a silent and holy night,
Must have been a wondrous and glorious sight,
So colorblind or not, we all can agree,
The Miracle of Christmas is not hyperbole!

 
“And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, 

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace”- Isaiah 9:6

Tammy Harvey
11/8/2022

Christmas is Coming

 My Tinsel is Tangled

The Macy’s Day parade and National Dog Show brought us cheer,
But Thanksgiving is over, and Christmas season is here,
Now decorations and gifts are on display everywhere,
Should I buy them a toy or something to wear?
The hectic hustle and bustle are truly real,
You must shop until you drop to get the best deal,
To find the perfect gift for someone is particularly rare,
And with the buying, baking, and wrapping, there’s no time to spare,
Christmas gatherings have me pondering what to wear,
Which gets my tinsel in a tangle, it’s a stressful affair,
Oh, I do wish to enjoy this season of partridge and pear,
But I’m just getting by on a wing and a prayer,
I’d rather stay home and sit quietly in my chair,
What happened to the childhood days, free of care,
Am losing my childhood wonder? I declare,
So, I must warn you to be very aware,
Don’t get caught up in the Christmas frenzy, beware!
You will be left with only a heap of despair,
The secular ways are meant to ensnare,
Joy should replace all the Christmas-ing,
Joy to the world- a newborn King!
I remind you again of the one true reason,
For this blessed and holy Christmas season.

Tammy Harvey
11/26/2022

Holiday Confusion

Just Can’t Wait

Is this real life or only an illusion?
There seems to be some sort of confusion,
Don’t forget this is only November,
But this happened last year, I remember,
I could see the pink buds beginning to form,
An abundance of them, quite out of the norm,
I knew it was early, but enjoyed the display,
As the buds slowly opened up into a flowering array,
So beautiful it was, and I couldn’t help but smile,
Because it really couldn’t wait, not even a little while,
My Christmas cactus thinks it’s a Thanksgiving flower,
It doesn’t know the date, time or even the hour,
My gorgeous cactus blooms this time every year,
And I am thankful for it, it gives me Thanksgiving cheer,
A precursor to a season of joy to come,
When the little drummer boy will beat his little drum,
So shhh, don’t tell the cactus it celebrates the wrong holiday,
For a Thanksgiving cactus it will stay!

Tammy Harvey
Written: 12/3/2022

Lemonade?

Can I offer you a Beverage?

I was gifted a kitchen towel embroidered with a declaration,

Notifying my guests with a most accurate piece of information,

It’s not a welcome sign, although they are welcomed in,

It’s not a warning to prepare them of a dog that is within,

No, I do not have any pets that I need to announce,

No need for them to be afraid that an animal might pounce,

I want my guest to know they can come and sit a spell,

I will entertain them with heartfelt stories I will tell,

My couch is rather comfy with a multitude of soft pillows,

A gentle breeze is seen blowing out in the weeping willows,

The view is so lovely, and the bird watching is divine,

From all perspectives, everything looks just fine,

But if the kitchen is the house’s heart, mine needs some CPR,

Even though the stools are neatly placed up beside the bar,

The sink is empty, and all the pots and pans are neat and clean,

The dishes are all handy, but not needed, if you know what I mean,

A beautiful white kitchen is sparkling like new,

But the pantry is quite barren and the refrigerator too,

In case they yearn for some homemade apple pie,

I just want my guests to understand why,

I may have to order or go down the street,

To get them their meal or desired treat,

I display my embroidered towel to let them in on my surprise,

As I kindly offer them a fast-food burger and some fries,

My embroidered towel simply reads: “I only have this kitchen because it came with the house”,

I live alone and just don’t cook because I don’t have a spouse,

There you have it, my confession has been made,

Now kindly sit right down, I’ll pour you some lemonade.

Tammy Harvey

11/14/2022

Eye on the Pie

 

My Eye is on the Pie

Eyes as wide as saucers and a little elfish grin,

Napkin tucked into my shirt under my chubby chin,

Fork in one hand and butter knife in the other,

Must eat a piece of pumpkin pie before my little brother!

Thanksgiving has arrived, and the turkey is in the oven,

But it is the enormous dessert table that I am mostly lovin’,

Pecan pie, lemon bars and grandma’s famous stack cake,

I’ve been thinking about all of these since I was awake,

Mashed potatoes and gravy, dressing and homemade rolls are tasty,

But you can’t deny that it does not compare to a homemade pastry,

Macaroni and cheese, deviled eggs, ham and green beans,

Those will all make me unbutton the top button on my jeans,

But I have to stop on the main course and leave a little space,

For the cookies, cake and pie will put a big smile on my face,

A sugar rush is all I need to make this day complete,

As I sit eagerly awaiting on the front edge of my seat.

Tammy Harvey

11/15/2022

Go Vols

I am a University of Tennessee graduate of 1982. It is quite an experience to attend a UT football game in Neyland Stadium, but none would compare to this year's game between Tennessee and Alabama. It's one of those "I was there when" moments. No, I wasn't there personally, but my brother-in-law and his grandson were there to witness history being made.

Go Vols!

Oh yes, it was football time in Tennessee,
The matchup was a legendary rivalry,
Another 3rd Saturday in October brought Alabama to Tennessee,
But the result was different this year, and the Vols moved their rank to #3,
“Rocky Top” drowned out the chant of “Roll Tide Roll”,
As a sea of orange-shirted fans stormed the field and took down the goal,
A 15-year winning streak had finally been shattered,
And for UT fans that’s all that mattered,
Neyland Stadium was at capacity hosting over 100 thousand screaming fans,
And the noise was deafening, like firecrackers inside tin cans,
Five touchdowns were made by #11 Tennessee wide receiver,
Unheard of yardage, talk about an over-achiever!
With over 100 total points scored during record-breaking play,
It came down to a last-second field goal for the Big Orange to prevail that day,
Their spectacular celebration couldn’t be contained,
And the undefeated Volunteers had continued their reign,
Oh yes, it was football time in Tennessee,
That sunny October afternoon will go down in history,
Go Vols!

Tammy Harvey
10/25/2022

Scouting

 

Scouting

Each step produces a snapping sound,

Of breaking twigs upon the ground,

Add to that the crunching noise,

Of dried leaves and little boys,

This symphony is not complete,

Without the percussion of their little feet,

Stomping through the woods on a spring day,

Picking up sticks and without delay,

Launching them as far as their little arms will throw,

Over fallen branches and trees they go,

With a bed of pine needles cushioning an occasional fall,

The young boys practice their best turkey call,

Chartreuse-colored moss is growing here and there,

Then their uncle stops them and makes them aware,

Wild turkey is spotted in the clearing up ahead,

Distinctively strutting with their wattle of red,

The boys are elated to see these bearded creatures,

With wide fanned tails and other comical features,

The gobblers are spooked and make their retreat,

But the siting has made their afternoon complete,

An adventure in the woods has been a successful quest,

To find a tom turkey with his protruding chest,

Strutting around in search of a mate,

A scouting trip designed for a future date,

When their uncle will return all alone,

And shoot a turkey of his very own.

Tammy Harvey

10/22/2022

Carolina Girl

The Pearl

Simple times are the best for this Carolina girl,
If the world is an oyster, I may have just found a pearl,
On the banks of North Carolina, where the waves beat the shoreline,
Like the rhythmic sound of a distance drum, this place is divine,
A natural lullaby that takes away the stresses of the days gone by,
Where the white puffy clouds cover the clear blue sky,
In perfect harmony, and the sand between my toes,
Takes away a lifetime of woes,
For now, in this moment, everything is right,
No troubles, no worries, no heartache, no fight,
As I watch the next generation of Harvey boys playing,
I find myself thanking God, and prayerfully saying,
Thank you, Lord, for this time together,
For family time, for perfect weather,
For nature’s way of showing your glory,
And for making this day a part of our story,
Life goes by fast, and the changing tides here remind me,
That there are highs, and there are lows, but you are beside me,
Your grace is sufficient for this Carolina girl,
Who is enjoying this perfectly formed shiny pearl!

Tammy Harvey
Written: 10/21/2022

Happily, Even After

 Happily, EVEN after

Most every little girl wants her “happily ever after”,
A Cinderella moment filled with tearful laughter,
Her fairy tale prince charming sweeping her off her feet,
A match made in heaven and her life is complete,
The magical wedding of her dreams followed by a picket fence of white,
Then the pitter-patter of little babies where it once was quiet,
She dreamed of this moment and how she would feel,
She pinched herself because it all seemed surreal,
Three boys she birthed, and they raised them with care,
Time flew by, and soon their nest would be bare,
Just as the last boy was moving away,
The news came that sent shock waves in an unpalatable way,
Her husband of thirty-three years had a terminal illness,
“An uncurable cancerous brain tumor” rang out in the stillness,
In a blink of an eye the life they had known,
Was now a life of her living alone,
What happened to her “happily ever after”?
The life she had imagined and eagerly sought-after?
Her “happily ever after” had suddenly changed,
Her “happily ever after” had been rearranged!
Was she going to let the situation crush her now?
No. She would get through it all somehow.
“Happily, even after” became her new mantra,
Finding happiness after loss is something extra,
While still honoring the memories, she chose to seek contentment,
What was the point in harboring resentment?
Choosing to be happy again is a place to start,
It warms the soul and heals the heart.

Tammy Harvey
8/26/2022

Built to Last

Vintage

What is it about vintage items that really catches my eye?
It’s nostalgic, of course, but I still wonder why?
My eyes are drawn to the styles of the past,
It gives me a sense of peace that things were built to last,
Fifty-year-old items are just as functional today,
Old furniture has a priceless charm in a special way,
Classic ceramics, bottles, and all things breakable,
Still in mint condition is especially notable,
A flea market is the place to go for treasures of old,
Just strolling through these items makes me think of stories untold,
If these items could talk, what would they say?
Who were their owners and where did they stay?
How did they stand the test of time?
Were they sold in the local five and dime?
Maybe they were handmade by artisans with a craft to share,
Or made in a factory overseas somewhere,
I hope they are preserved for other generations to see,
What some may see as junk, I see as history.

Tammy Harvey
8/19/2022

Firefighter FUN

 

Firetruck Luck

A Birthday party for my grandson turning 3,

Was held at the local fire station for friends and family,

Firefighters gave us a lesson in fire safety and more…

Charles demonstrated stop, drop and roll on the floor,

A look inside the firetruck was a cool thing for the kids,

But didn’t compare to the next thing they did…

The truck was connected to the hydrant and the hose to the truck,

And just like that, we were all in luck,

The water sprayed out like no one had ever seen before,

Everyone had a chance to assist the fireman, but still there was more…

The bright sun and water spray cast a huge rainbow on the ground,

While the arch of water was heavenward bound,

Then Charles started to venture out into the spray,

Running under the water in a curious way,

All the children joined in on this adventure with him,

And soon there were no dry clothes on any of them,

It had become a game of playing out in the “rain”,

Where fun and laughter did not wane,

The hospitality of the firefighters was so incredible,

It was an experience that will be unforgettable,

These brave firefighters made a huge impression on us all,

Their contribution to our community is in no way small,

They deserve recognition for the services they provide,

It was such a privilege to get a peek inside,

A fire station Birthday- a great idea- with one suggestion:

Bring a change of clothes, without question.

Tammy Harvey

8/16/2022

A Right of Passage

*****450th POST *****

Once again, I have chosen to write a short story instead of my typical rhyming verse.

The Scar

The walls were made of concrete block painted in an institutional mint green.  I remember it well.  I was standing in line in the hallway of my elementary school.  I was wearing a pleated skirt, a button-up blouse with a peter pan collar, rolled down white bobby socks and a pair of Buster Brown shoes.  I had a short pixie haircut.  It was in the mid-1960’s.  Standing on that black and white tile floor in anticipation of what was to come, I was seeing the children before me with their sleeves rolled up and the winces on their faces.  It was smallpox vaccination day.  No parents were there; no hands were held.  Everyone at school that day was being vaccinated. It was a different time, no doubt about it.  It was like no other shot any of us had ever received before.  They actual shot was given with what looked like a “gun” with a trigger.  It injected us with multiple needles, and the wound was immediately covered with a gauze bandage taped to our arm.  I don’t remember it being too painful.  I don’t remember children crying or resisting the process.  It was just expected of us to stand in line quietly awaiting our turn while watching the person in front of us go first. I guess there is safety in numbers as the saying goes.  Afterwards, we returned to our classroom as if nothing had happened.  We would go on with our day of reading, writing and arithmetic, recess and a bus ride home.

The site of the vaccine would develop into a red itchy bump. We were continuously reminded not to scratch it.  The wound after a week became a puffy, pus-filled blister and began to drain.  In the second week it began to dry up and form a scab.  The third week the scab would eventually fall off.  It was a right-of-passage.  A permanent scar would forever be embedded on my left upper arm along with everyone else who is now over 40 years of age.  Literally everyone had it at the same time, so it was not considered such an extraordinary event.  We did it together, like a school assignment.  

Now after researching the smallpox vaccine, I have found that it is given with a bifurated needle (two-pronged) that actually does not puncture the skin into the subcutaneous tissue like most shots do.  It instead pricks the skin’s dermis only.  The needle is designed to prick the skin 15 times in a few seconds which creates the sore spot and maybe one or two drops of blood.

In this unprecedented time of Covid and now Monkeypox threatening our world, it does bring back these memories of a simpler time.  A time when all the elementary school children were lined up in the hall and inoculated. The memories flood back of those elementary school days, and I remember standing every morning with our hand over our hearts to say the Pledge of Allegiance to the flag.  A flag hung in every classroom.  It was a safe place.  There was no fear of violence against us except for the fact that corporal punishment was allowed.  On occasion, we could hear the sound of a “paddling” echoing down the hall.  The student had to bend over and grab their ankles, and the principal delivered 3 strikes to the buttocks with his wooden paddle.  This was the discipline of the times. 

Lunchtime was a welcomed event.  The lunchroom was a boisterous place, but if it got too loud a monitor would blow the whistle, and everyone would have to remain silent.  With a little extra lunch money, ice cream could be purchased for dessert.  The Mayfield ice cream was packaged in small plastic containers with a cardboard pull-away lid with a flat wooden “spoon”.  Everyone wanted that, but first we had to eat the mystery meat, vegetables and fruit on our plates, or whatever I brought in my red plaid metal lunchbox.  

The much-anticipated playground time for us girls was a spot of dirt next to the brick wall where the grass was worn away by the turning of the jump rope.  A person on each end continuously turned the rope while we had to learn to “run in” and jump to a jump rope rhyming chant called out by the other girls. Some of the old favorites were: “Cinderella”, “Miss Mary Mack” and “Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear”.  Of course, there were monkey bars, a slide and swings at the jungle gym, but nothing fancy like today’s playsets. There was a game of kickball going on periodically. On the occasion that the weather was bad, we would go to the gymnasium for recess.  Those highly polished basketball courts were slippery in our slick-soled patent leather shoes and made it challenging to play dodgeball.  I do recall receiving my first PF Flyers athletic sneakers, but mostly I remember those red dodge balls gave quite a sting when they hit my skin. Four square and hopscotch were other popular games we played inside or outside during recess, and possibly my favorite game of all was Four Square. 

Besides making it to the fourth Square, one of the highlights of the day was being chosen by the teacher to take the chalkboard erasers outside to clean them.  Gathering up all of them, a student was allowed to clap them together or against the brick on the building which usually produced a big white cloud of chalk!  Another coveted role was given in the sixth grade.  Certain students, considered responsible, were chosen to be safety patrols leaders.  Their job was to help with carpool lines and assist in getting younger students out of the cars and safely to their classroom.  I was fortunate enough to be chosen, and I wore the bright yellow safety patrol sash proudly.

There were no electronics, no computers, no social media.  There were very few distractions.  We were elated to have the privilege to check out a library book from the school library.  Yes.  We had televisions.  Walter Cronkite was on every evening, but that was about the only source of news, with the exception of the newspaper.  The news was not in real time, although on occasion the regular scheduled programming would be interrupted for a national event.  I remember the funerals of both Martin Luther King and John F. Kennedy being shown on our television as they were happening.  The greatest form of communication was the telephone.  Of course, it was corded and connected to the wall, so no calls were made or received unless you were home.  I remember my grandmother had a party-line which is when two or more families share the same phone number.  Sometimes when I picked up her phone to call out, someone was already talking on the line.  I was taught to hang up quickly and never eaves drop on someone else’s call.

This was a time when a year seemed like forever.  Now, at 62, years fly by in a flash. Where did my 20’s, 30’s, 40’s and 50’s go?  As I grow older, I can remember specific memories more clearly from long ago.  The world has changed so much since I was a girl.  Technological advancements have made the world so much smaller.  While so much has changed, so much has remained the same.  For example, the eradication of smallpox was successful, but pandemics still are not a thing of the past. We are always evolving, always changing, but it is nice sometimes to remember the “good old days” in elementary school when life was simpler.

Tammy Harvey

8/15/2022

My number chose ME

 

This Can’t Be!

My address number is 1333,

I didn’t choose it, it chose me,

While looking at lot number 73,

And contemplating building a house there, you see,

I stood on the site covered in red dirt clay,

And stared at the view I would see every day,

It was a beautiful spot overlooking a retention pond,

With the thick protected forest standing just beyond,

The sunset was pink, and orange and amazing,

Should I take this next step? I thought as I kept gazing,

Then my daughter-in-law asked me a pertinent question,

It was really just in passing, a mere suggestion,

Would you like to know what the address would be?

She said unknowingly to me,

Sure.  I was interested because numbers have always been my key,

She looked on her phone then looked shockingly at me,

Oh wow!  She said, it is house number 1333,

Well, if I was on the fence about making the right decision,

This number was the sign I had needed to end my division,

I jumped off the proverbial fence and signed on the dotted line,

I knew the move was for me and that I would be fine,

MY number is 333,

Always has been and always will be.

Now I reside on lot 73 in a house with the street number 1333!

Tammy Harvey

7/30/2022

Throwback Tuesday

 

Recently I was cleaning out at my parent's home and found this poem I wrote for my Dad on

Father’s Day 1984.  (I was 24.)

Just when you thought my poetry was through,

It’s back and it’s filled with more greetings for you,

Sure wish I could be there on this Father’s Day,

But try as I will and try as I may,

I’ll be there on June 24^th anyway,

Now please don’t you fret about my league of men,

Because as you know, you are in the top ten,

But if the truth were known, forgetting the jive,

You’d probably find you’re in the top five,

A lot of people may tell me- “You’re just like your Dad”,

To me that is good; certainly not bad,

And you know that we must be more than just kin,

For look at the fine poetry that flows from my pen,

And just like you, I enjoy writing poems,

Please call Marvin Reed and you’ll be more informed,

For being the Godfather to me that he is,

He received a poem that is totally his,

I hope that I haven’t stolen your art,

Of sending rhyme messages straight from the heart,

Please enjoy Father’s Day; I hope that it’s great!

I’ll tell you in person, but it’ll be late,

I guess I will close by forgetting all prose.

I’ll simply say,

I love you Dad, in a very special way.

Love,

Tammy

Handwritten in cursive on three sheets of paper and snail-mailed...the old-fashioned way.

Handmade Just for You

 

A Personal Touch

Homemade gifts are the best,

Store-bought gifts are thoughtful, but I must confess,

If someone makes you something, they have given their time, energy AND creativity,

I like that process, for me it is just an extra layer of festivity,

Recently, I was set to go buy my grandson a gift bag for his Birthday gift,

It was in a plain brown paper sack, and it needed a facelift,

So, instead of running to the store, I got out my markers, truth be told,

And I decorated it myself- A personal touch that will be lost on a 3-year-old,

However, this is just an example of the point I’m trying to make,

A homemade gift comes from the heart; it’s not forced or fake,

I know time is precious, and some people may not feel creative,

But I still encourage you to get innovative,

A handmade card, a painted rock,

Beats a Hallmark card or a new pair of socks,

I remember how exciting it was to receive my children’s handmade ornaments,

Decorating our Christmas tree for years and years, it was a heartfelt sentiment,

Their school artwork I kept in a box in the attic for three decades,

After their artwork had adorned our refrigerator through all their grades,

If you enjoy a craft or a hobby in which you make something by hand,

Make and give it to someone; I’m sure they will think it is grand!

Tammy Harvey

7/29/2022

A Lotus, but not for POTUS

 The Majestic Lotus

At the bottom of the pool, bright orange koi fish swirl about,

Soothing to watch, without a doubt,

The water is as clear as a bell, as the fountain produces a trickling sound,

And the carefully placed flat rocks form a beautiful border all around,

A man-made pond in the courtyard, for the pleasure of the residents,

Assisted living residents, elderly people, not kings or presidents,

These residents deserve to live their best life, enjoying the view,

Most have nowhere to be and not too much to do,

On the surface of the water are green heart-shaped lily pads with flowers,

Floating gently and unincumbered by the fountain showers,

Majestic large-petaled lotus flowers open to the morning sun every day,

These pink delicate beauties have a very special way,

Of tempting me to want to photograph them at every opportunity,

It is a conversation starter for the entire residential community,

How lovely they are, openly blooming dawn until night,

Then closing up, until reblooming the next day at sunlight,

A symbol of purity and rebirth, they are quite unique,

If you get a chance, you should sneak a peek,

Prepare to take a photo, I know you won’t resist,

In fact, I hope you don’t mind if I insist!

Tammy Harvey

7/29/2022

Saxapahaw, NC

Saxapahaw Island Park

Walking through a nature trail with my grandsons is a real treat,
They are curious and observant and light on their feet,
The dirt trail is narrow, and the day is hot,
Adventure is worth it, so we give it all we’ve got,
We observe a toad camouflaged nearby on the ground,
While the Haw River alongside us produced a beautiful sound,
The path was filled with roots, but relatively flat,
My knees and hips will thank me for that,
There were flying insects and wildflowers and such,
And an occasional cool breeze that we needed so much,
Hickory nuts, acorns, berries and bees,
An abundance of all kinds of interesting trees,
One in particular was a hackberry tree,
With another hackberry growing out of its side, you see,
Forming a natural u-shape, an unusual sight,
And Charles pointed it out with explosive delight,
His mother said that’s a tree made for a climber,
And Charles replied, “God is a great designer”!
Hungry and tired and in need of a bath,
We played a game of kick a walnut down the path,
Our adventure continued, oh yes, there was more,
We went to eat lunch at the Saxapahaw General Store,
What a pleasurable afternoon, such a wonderful day,
Making memories with my grandsons, Charles and Gray!

Tammy Harvey
written:  7/14/2022

What is Diamond Art?

 

Diamond Art

In making your own Diamond Art,

Tedious, but fun, right from the start.

So many would ask:  What is Diamond Art?

I’ll try to explain it, at least in part,

 It’s like paint-by-numbers, only using tiny beads,

To do this craft kit you don’t have to read,

But you must have dexterity in order to proceed,

The beads are called diamonds; sounds more chic,

The diamonds are actually plastic, not at all unique,

Flat on one side, and dome-shaped, specifically,

Each one with a number or a symbol, in particularly,

The pre-printed designed canvas has adhesive to hold beads in their place,

The legend reveals what diamond goes to what space,

A stylus provided is used to pick up each domed bead by its top,

Once you start placing them, you won’t want to stop,

A small bit of wax on the stylus tip really helps out a lot,

In holding each one ‘til it reaches its spot,

Pick up, put down, repeat, next color, same, repeat,

Quickly the art becomes 3-D and is colorfully complete,

It’s a stress-relieving activity for me,

You should try it out and see.

Tammy Harvey

6/13/2022

Since 2018 and especially during the pandemic isolation, I did these diamond art kits as a stress reliever and have completed 39 of them to date. Some have been solid bead designs, and some have had printed backgrounds.   I frame them with frames found at the thrift stores.  Recently, I had some of them sell in the silent auction to raise money for Brain Cancer Research.  Others I have given for gifts.

A Magical Place

 

My Fairy Garden

A fairy garden is made up of miniature windows and doors,

With rocks and sticks and fish gravel and moss on the floors,

A tiny bridge or a fence with a gate, miniature flowers and a rippling “stream”,

It can have anything in it that you can dream,

I have all of these in my fairy garden I made,

It is housed in a planter on my porch in the shade,

When I walk past it, it puts a smile on my face,

It is magical and fun, but doesn’t take up much space,

I created a forest where imaginary fairies would love to live,

It may be childish, but I can’t explain the joy it gives,

It makes me happy and that’s why I share,

Make your own fairy garden, if you dare,

But don’t be surprised when you walk by,

That you stop and stare and heave a sigh,

There is something mysteriously tranquil there,

You might even want to pull up a chair!

Tammy Harvey

7/30/2022

Early Bird gets the Worm

Cock-a-Doodle-Doo

My five-and-a-half-year-old grandson is an early bird,
The first one up every morning, he is both seen and heard,
He wakes up consistently at the break of day,
His parents are always wishing in his bed he would stay,
But alas, he is up and on the go!
He has energy flowing from head to toe!
At 7am, he is allowed to go downstairs alone,
For his morning muffins and time on his dad’s phone,
He settles into the big comfy couch with his favorite bear,
That bear is named Pokey and goes everywhere,
Everywhere Charles goes, Pokey goes too,
And there is a favorite blanket, fuzzy and blue,
That accompanies this boy through his morning routine,
Pokey is tattered and worn and doesn’t look very clean,
But he is a constant companion for Charles anyway,
Especially at the wee hours of the day,
And when his dad complained about his 5 am visit,
He simply replied with an answer, quite exquisite,
Charles smiled and said: “Waking up is my specialty”!
That’s an early bird with a worm, don’t you agree?

Tammy Harvey (Gigi)
Written: 7/5/2022

Memorable Childhood

 

A Magical Childhood

My daughter-in-law takes my grandsons to magical places,

Most are educational and all put smiles on their faces,

Whether it’s a park, a farm, museum or arboretum,

Awesome natural environments she introduces to them,

Memorable childhood experiences are a priceless gift,

And she does it with considerable thrift,

Most programs and events they attend are presented for free,

And some require a minimal fee,

I have attended some of these adventures too,

Let me name just a few:

Train ride, apple-picking, pumpkin patch, hayride, cache hunting, hiking, petting zoo,

Honestly, I cannot name all the things that they do!

Story book trails, pony rides, Botanical gardens, ropes course, splash ground,

Unique places I didn’t knew existed, she has found,

One of the simplest places that provided “loads” of fun,

Was a pile of dirt, ton after ton,

In a park for kids to dig for fossils and rocks,

Right away my grandboys shed their shoes and socks,

Into the dirt pile they went, hands and feet,

Oh boy!  This was an awesome treat!

Getting dirty on purpose is always a joy,

Especially if you are a little boy,

Tammy Harvey

Written:  6/12/2022

Spiritual Mothers

 

Running out of Time

The assignment was clear, and the deadline had been on my calendar for weeks.  Somehow, I had pushed it aside in favor of other more pressing issues.  To put it more precisely:  I procrastinated!

Now this paper was due this afternoon, by four o’clock, double-spaced with 1” margins.  The English paper that had to be done properly, not just thrown together at the last minute.  The directive was to write about someone who had made a difference.  Well, of course, there are innumerable historical figures to choose from.  That seemed boring and too predictable.  I thought about my life.  I wanted to write about someone who had made a difference to me.  I was blessed to have had multiple “spiritual mothers” during my journey to adulthood:  Mary McKown, Margaret Rogers, Helen Ashby, Kay Singleton, Mary Kelly.  I define a spiritual mother as someone who takes you under their wing during pivotal times in your life and gives you unconditional love and support.  They are more than your friend.  They are a role model.  It is these women who help shape you into who you are and want to be.  They are older, wiser and nurturing. My own mother would qualify, but I want to focus on the women outside my family who were there for me.  Looking back, I can see God’s hand in this.  He put me in places and situations but surrounded me with special women to help guide me.  The choice is hard, but I choose to write about Mary McKown.  She was a special lady to so many young ladies, not just me.  

I met Mary as a thirteen-year-old (1973) while playing softball in a recreational league.  She was my coach for several years. When I aged out of the league, we remained friends.  I went off to college which was a good 20 minutes from the ballpark in Rocky Hill, but she wanted me to help her coach. She trusted my judgement, and I was thrilled, but I had no car on campus.  It was impossible to get to the ballfield.  Mary would not take “no” for an answer.  She worked uptown near campus, so she decided to pick me up on her way home from work on game days.  That seemed reasonable, but after the game or practice she also drove me back to campus before returning home.  That is a big commitment.  Talk about feeling special and important.  I was astounded at the confidence she had in me.  I was a freshman in college.  I had few life experiences to draw from.  This was the beginning of many times that special woman entered my life to encourage me.  Mary not only inspired me, but all of the girls she coached, and there were many.  She coached many years after her own daughter was no longer a player.  Mary lived just two minutes from the ballpark behind Rocky Hill Elementary School which is where I attended elementary school.  I’ll never forget how she took the time to pick me up and drive me back to my dormitory.  That was probably an extra 45 minutes out of her evening after working all day and coaching her team.  I went on to graduate college and move to Florence, SC.  We never lost touch.  Every Christmas she sent me greetings and a letter about her life.  I did the same.  She was at my wedding, visited me at my parents’ house after my first son was born and was a true friend.  Through the Christmas letters, she always knew what was happening in my life and I in hers.  She had two daughters of her own.  She became a grandmother of twins.  I had three sons, and she watched them grow up through photographs.  On occasion, we would get together while I was in town, but very infrequently.  She lived in the same house the entire time I knew her, and then after her husband of 47 years “Doc” passed away in 2004, she moved to Florida in 2013 to be near her daughter. 

Mary went from an angel on earth to a heavenly angel on October 18, 2017, just 2 days after her 94^th birthday.  Mary McKown made a difference, not only in my life but in so many more teenage girls’ lives.

I am encouraged when I think about her.  She was my first “spiritual mother”.

The assignment is complete.  Tammy Harvey   6/1/2022

The Royal Flush

 

You Can Bet on Faith

In the game of Poker, the Royal Flush is the best hand,

The Straight Flush is next, so you know where you stand,

Then Four of a Kind is hard to beat,

But a Full House could put you in the winner’s seat,

A Flush is certainly not a bad hand to get,

It will beat a Straight, so it’s worth the bet,

Three of a Kind, well it’s okay, I guess,

If you have Two Pair, not as great as the rest,

A Pair is not good, you might as well fold,

But the High Card is the last thing you’ll want to hold,

So are the rankings of a good card game,

In the game of real life, some similarities are the same: 

Faith is the Royal Flush you are longing for, my dear,

Faith is always stronger than Fear,

Fear is the fold, the unwillingness to try,

Choose Faith over Fear and this is why.

Tammy Harvey

Written:  6/10/2022

One Ringy Dingy

 

Thank You for Your Call

Automated phone menus mean well,

Press ONE for more options.

But can’t we please have a human we can tell?

Press TWO if you know your party’s extension.

The older people cannot maneuver such nonsense,

Press THREE for the billing department.

The options are confusing and defy common sense,

Press FOUR to schedule an appointment.

Wait, did they already state the number I need?

Press FIVE to repeat the menu.

If so, what was it?  I am lost, indeed,

Listen closely, as our MENU options have changed.

Let me press O, maybe I’ll reach the operator,

“O” is not a valid option. Press # return to the Main Menu.

What I really need is a virtual translator!

If you know your party’s extension, you can dial it at this time.

Press SIX for the directory.

A human voice!  Just let me speak!

This isn’t a game of hide-and-seek!

Oh, my goodness, I think someone just picked up!

This call may be recorded for quality assurance.

After this call, please stay on the line for a brief survey.

Press 1 for YES and 2 for NO.

Is there a number for “HELL NO”?!

Why was I calling?  I don’t even know.

Tammy Harvey

Written:  6/9/2022

Lifeguard on Duty

I wrote this on "one of those days" when my frustration was high, and as hard as I tried I was making no progress!

Lifeguard on Duty
Frustration is the culmination
Of disappointments that render agitation,
A series of events that drag on without resolution,
In other words, it is the yearning for a solution,
The tension builds and there is hopeful anticipation,
Patience is required throughout the entire situation,
Perseverance is necessary to fight the frustration,
But the need to resolve is a source of aggravation,
The longer the frustration exists, the shorter the fuse,
And when the dynamite explodes, there aren’t many clues,
You didn’t see it coming, like a bat out of hell,
And who the casualties will be, time can only tell,
Frustration escalates an emotional response,
It incites a bad feeling that nobody wants,
When you are treading water, and not getting anywhere,
Just remember there is a lifeguard sitting calmly in His chair,
Although frustration does have an expiration,
It requires considerable determination!

Tammy Harvey
Written: 6/9/2022

Craniotomy

 

The Scar

When Jerry had his craniotomy, it was some serious sh*t,
October 4, 2017: His life was in jeopardy with or without it,
He joked and said he wanted to “go in as a man and come out as a man”,
His surgeon said he would do the best that he can,
The surgery was long, updates were few,
The procedure was like picking sand particles out of glue,
It was messy and meticulous, but we had the best doc,
But seeing Jerry after surgery gave us a shock,
His head was all bandaged, and his face was beet red,
He was stable, but helplessly lying still in the bed,
The first few days that followed are a blur to me now,
We managed to get through it all somehow,
His head was embossed with a large, raised scar,
He was weak and couldn’t walk very far,
The shape of his scar was a backwards question mark,
“Like my $100,000 haircut?”, was his cutest remark,
The scar healed nicely, and when he got the stitches removed,
He wanted the nurse to count them, and she was quite amused,
She carefully counted each one and then she quietly said
“56 stitches I removed from your head”,
It was October 20, and I’ll never forget,
The excitement he had and his enthusiastic mindset,
It was his brother Randall’s birthday, and 56 he would be,
“How about that!”, Jerry said so happily,
He had the courage of a lion and the tenderness of a lamb,
He took nothing for granted, especially not his fam,
Family was his universe, always had been,
He told us all he was a “blessed man”, once again.

Tammy Harvey
Written: 6/10/2022

Our son took this photo after the craniotomy, but recently had it enlarged. He wanted to hang it in his office to remind him that life is short and to live life to the fullest. 

 Remembering Jerry: 4/26/58-6/25/2018

The Gift of Rhyme

He was a poet and didn't know it...
My youngest son Joshua wrote me a poem for Mother's Day this year...

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!!!

Mom of three.
Gigi of two.
Goofy as can be.
Grounded like a tree.
She's always there for me.
As caring as they come.
And far from being dumb.
She's always picking up a grandson crumb.
Thrifting and crafting
Are never lacking.
She's creative and cute.
And always a hoot!
Who woulda knew?
She'd cheer the canes on like wooo!
She's the best mom.
In fact, she's the bomb.

-written by Josh Harvey 5/8/2022
(your baby)

Platinum Jubilee Juno

Shout Out to Juno

Juno is still the fun-loving bust she ever was,
But more sophisticated and proper just because,
She is in a new home with much less clutter,
She is less silly and more likely to utter,
Wisdom rather than whimsy, I would say,
At least on this particular day,
Her new style has become simple and chic,
With her whimsical side hidden, let’s take a peek,
In honor of the recent Platinum Jubilee, she has chosen,
The look of Queen Elizabeth instead of Elsa from Frozen,
A double strand of white pearls adorns her neck, so splendidly,
Wearing a brooch would be impossible, as you can see,
White gloves complete her look,
She is certainly a Queen in my book,
In the United States, I would consider her Barbara Bush, no doubt,
Whether royalty or a first lady, she needs a shout out,
So, shout out to Juno for her new style,
At least she’ll stay this way for a little while.

Tammy Harvey
Written: 6/12/2022

Angels Among Us

 

Four Years, More Tears

After losing my husband to brain cancer, it helps me to talk,
The first time I attended the Angels Among Us fundraiser walk,
My husband had been gone for less than a year,
His memory was fresh, and I felt numb, and had no fear,
Then the pandemic occurred, and the walk was postponed for 2020 and 2021,
I couldn’t wait to attend, when the crisis was done,
Now, 2022, and I am up early and ready to go,
All by myself, my support I would show!!!
I arrived at the event as the 5K runners were crossing the finish line,
Cheers were ringing out as I parked my car and was feeling fine,
But the “fine” wouldn’t last as I strolled through the activities,
It hit me hard: waves of emotion and a tremendous flow of memories,
I saw the families there going through what I had,
It made my heart hurt, and it made me sad,
Literally, my heart ached inside my chest,
I wanted to escape, go home, I must confess,
I was no longer numb, the reality was too real,
I can’t really describe the way it made me feel,
I was grateful for Duke Hospital and all of their medical team,
I recognized many who provided us with compassion, but it felt like a dream,
A dream I couldn’t wake up from, though I was determined to stay,
I was uncomfortable and overwhelmed by the events of the day,
The awards were given, and entertainment provided,
But when all the fun activities had subsided,
The survivors there were brought up on stage to be celebrated, as they should,
I guess I desperately wanted my husband to have been one of them- if only he could,
Deep down I knew it wasn’t meant to be,
The fundraiser raised millions- a total of 3.3,
But when the song “Angels Among Us” rang out from the loudspeakers, and the walk began,
I was overcome with a flood of sobbing tears,
These tears had been bottled up for 4 long years,
It was a cleansing cry, a long-needed release,
I found it hard to believe that my husband was deceased,
I guess I’d been running on adrenaline for so long,
It was time to be weak and quit trying to be strong,
Physically, mentally, and emotionally I was weakened that day,
But in my weakness, spiritually I was strengthened anyway,
I persevered to the end, although it was hard to do,
I hope this story will encourage you.

Tammy Harvey
Written: 5/21/2022

A Fishin Tradition

 Fishing on the Roanoke

A trip to the Roanoke River has become a part of our family’s tradition,
In spring when we find ourselves longing to go fishing,
During a March Day, when the shad fish are spawning,
The air is breezy, and the day is dawning,
We load up our tackle and hitch up the boat,
A friend just caught 100, just a side note,
The drive is 90 minutes, and scenically beautiful,
We look for turkeys in the fields, because we are dutiful,
Turkey season opens in a week or two,
We are excited! How about you?
We arrive at the boat ramp, just my son and me,
He needs help with the boat launch, you see,
My job is to pull the trailer out of the water after the boat is afloat,
Park the car and meet him at the bank, with one footnote,
This place is not remotely remote; a dozen fishermen are fishing beside the ramp,
It’s a busy day there, the word is out, fishermen have set up camp!
Along the bank beside the single launch ramp, shoulder to shoulder,
Then one guy was actually sitting on the ramp in a lawn chair, even bolder,
As I pull the trailer out of the water, there is a loud shout in my direction,
“Good job, Grandma!”, the old fisherman in the chair yells in celebration!
“This ain’t my first rodeo”, I shouted back, without thinking at all,
The day was fun, but the catch was small,
We got only 15 (catch and release) shad that day,
And the guy was still in his lawn chair when we pulled away!
That’s what memories are made of,
A few fish and a lot of love!

Tammy Harvey
Written: 4/22/2022

The Purple Tree

 

The Purple Blooming Tree

“Bloom where you are planted” is a familiar saying,

Means to make the best of a situation, while still praying,

For a brighter day, a change, a success, a break,

It means that it all depends on the attitude we take,

I was reminded of this on a spring day, in my car,

Stopped at a streetlight, not too far,

From my home, I pass it almost every day,

But now I saw it in a new and refreshing way,

A purple flowering tree caught my eye,

Normally, unnoticed but I’ll tell you why,

It grows on the edge of the concrete,

Under the overpass, in the shade of an elevated street,

Not a sign of green grass, no earth, nothing else,

“How can this be?” I wondered to myself,

With concrete on all four sides of it,

It put down roots in the crack, I bet,

Not the most conducive place to grow,

Limited sunshine, rain and space, you know,

But still, it thrives in this most unusual place,

It adapted to its environment and bloomed in its own space,

It has definitely made a statement to me,

I wonder if anyone else has noticed this purple tree?

It bloomed where it was planted, against all odds,

It is worthy, and it is God’s.

Tammy Harvey

Written:  4/22/2022                          

Nine Decades

 Nine Decades

My Dad will turn 90 on the 17th of May,
He has been hoping to make it to 90, and has come a long way,
He grew up poor during the Great Depression when times were so hard,
Always working, not playing, except in the schoolyard,
Began helping his family on the tenant farm at a very young age,
Milking cows at dawn and dusk for a nominal wage,
Dropped out of high school in the ninth grade, thought he was smart enough,
But went back the next year after farming full time was too rough
Graduated high school with Miss Julia, who became his bride,
Sold a cow to marry her, and she stayed by his side,
Drafted into the Army, he was sent to war,
After 2 weeks on a ship, he arrived at the Korean shore,
Spent two Christmases there, where the cold was bitter,
Sat in a foxhole, and proved he was no quitter,
Back home, his wife had written him a letter each day,
Wondering and praying that he was okay,
Thank God he returned safely, but never the same,
Korea had impacted this farm boy, a man he became,
He then worked at Alcoa, and she worked at JFG,
A partnership homegrown in East Tennessee,
Together they started their very own business,
Promoting a new concept called “health & fitness”,
They successfully ran a health club and spa for 25 years,
Then worked for Court South their remaining careers,
My Dad could sell ice to an Eskimo, an excellent salesman he was,
While my mother multitasked at home and work, as a mother often does,
At a house on the lake, they finally retired,
But many people they have truly inspired,
Been married 70 years now, time has flown,
Had two lovely daughters, that are now grown,
Now with a 90-year Birthday approaching in May,
It is certainly a time to celebrate, Hip, Hip, Hooray!

Tammy Harvey written: 4/22/2022

Spa Treatment?

 

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Where can you go to get some me-time?
Away from everything to have some free time,
A place of solitude, like a mini staycation
I’m not suggesting a tropical vacation,
Right down the street in every hometown,
There is a place to go, if you want to calm down,
To take a break from real-life dramas,
You can even casually wear your pajamas!
It’s a chance for you to totally unwind,
I’m speaking of the drive-thru, self-service kind,
The carwash, of course, go check it out,
Cheaper than a spa treatment, no doubt,
The forceful rush of the spray to the undercarriage, when you first pull in,
Is the precursor to the seclusion held within,
Then slowly you move until the sign says “stop”,
Now parked you can savor every drop!
A pre-wash covers your car in an orchestrated fashion,
Followed by tri-colored foaming soap in the appropriate ration,
The machine passes by you, back and forth, brushes slapping a beat,
You become relaxed now, from your head to your feet,
Down the windshield and over the hood it goes,
You have calmness right down to your little toes,
The rinse is on its way, and the experience is near an end,
You wish that the time there would graciously extend,
The roar of the gigantic dryer shakes the car, and you know,
Soon the “drive” sign will say that’s it’s really time to go,
As the droplets of water bead up and roll away,
You know that your spa treatment is over for today!

Tammy Harvey
Written: 4/1/2022

My Namesake

 

Put Me in the Zoo

This past weekend I attended our regional zoo,
It seemed like a very enjoyable thing to do,
My middle son, my daughter-in-law and two grandsons asked me,
To go along with them on this outing, you see,
After an hour-long drive, we finally arrived,
Excitement and anticipation were not disguised,
We entered by way of the African side,
Planning to return to our entrance with an awesome tram ride,
One of the first animals we saw was a red river hog,
Followed by lions sleeping by a large hollow log,
But the next stop was memorable and so interactive,
The chimpanzees were cute, but certainly not attractive,
They came up to the glass, face-to-face with the crowd,
With a welcoming gaze, they seemed quite proud,
Munching slowly on a piece of something at their lips,
Something they held tightly in their grips,
The chimps were as fascinated as the children were,
With their gleaming eyes and jet-black fur,
A poster of the chimps on the wall caught my eye,
They were individually named, and this is no lie,
One was named “Tammy”, and another was “GiGi”,
Two of the chimps were named after me!
My claim to fame! My legacy complete!
My namesakes that walk on 2 hands and 2 feet,
It could have been worse, I guess you could say,
Hogs could have been named after me that day,
Our visit to the zoo was an unforgettable trip,
We walked an incredible 12 thousand steps.

Tammy Harvey
Written: 3/21/2022

Smart Little Fella

The Youngest (Grayson)

Large blue eyes that sparkle with charm,
Bright blonde hair, buzz cut ‘cause it is warm,
Cute little teeth, a mouth full of them,
My two-year-old grandson is quite a gem,
Cute? Of course, but with personality too,
He is shadowing his brother, which is hard to do,
He is a talkative fellow with an interesting sound,
The end of each sentence is higher, I have found,
He has always been a climber – a curious boy,
With an interest in construction vehicles, his favorite toy,
He is mesmerized when watching a vehicle show,
He knows the names of vehicles that I don’t even know!
There’s a bulldozer or a dump truck- the usual kind,
But he knows the excavator, the road grader, etc. like a mastermind,
While driving down the highway, I thought I would teach him anew,
Asking him what kind of truck was passing … but he already knew!
“It’s a tanker truck, GiGi”; and of course, it sure was,
Smart little fellow! With his cute blonde buzz!
A sweet, kind boy who says “peas” and “tank you”,
Has a stubborn streak, like most of us do,
Yes, my two-year-old grandson is quite a gem,
And I am so very proud of him!

Tammy Harvey
2/18/2022

The Dentist Chair

 The Dentist Chair

Dread, terror, trepidation, stress,
The dentist chair can make you a hot mess,
Oh, the doctor is nice enough, but the process is chilling,
Because you really can’t stand the sound of drilling!
You look up and find it is time to go,
Your terrified and your anxieties grow,
You park your car but don’t want to go in,
The pressure is mounting as you put on a fake grin,
Just grin and bear it keeps running through your head,
But that doesn’t squash the huge feeling of dread,
Fear is consuming as you walk back to the chair,
Gripping the armrests and sending up a prayer,
You cannot wait for this to be over-and-done,
The weight on your chest feels like a ton,
The procedure begins but time has stood still,
Your entire jaw is numb, so you don’t even feel,
You close your eyes and try to stay calm,
While the sweat is collecting in both of your palms,
You focus on the background music to distract,
And sing along in your head, as a matter of fact,
Your grip begins to loosen, and your mind now wanders,
To a place where there is peace, and you ponder:
Why did you get so nervous and upset?
What was the need to worry and fret?
It all came to an end in less than an hour,
You are proud of yourself for having the willpower,
To stay in the chair and not freak completely out,
As you leave the office, you want to shout,
I did it! I did it! It’s all over now!
But I don’t have to like it, anyhow,
It will be the same angst, next time I’m here,
For the mention of a dentist chair brings about fear!

Tammy Harvey
written: 3/17/2022

Nightbirde Sings

 My Thoughts:

Happiness is:
Catching a fly ball,
Watching the leaves fall,
Hitting the fairway,
Sleeping away a rainy day,
Happiness is:
Catching a firefly,
Watching a butterfly,
Picking a bouquet,
Listening to “It’s Ok”*,
Happiness is:
Rocking a baby to sleep,
Hearing new chicks peep,
Fishing at sunset,
Getting a new pet,
Seeing a rainbow,
Learning to let go,
Happiness is:
Eating a snow cone,
Turning off your cell phone,
Sending a greeting card,
Playing in the backyard,
Taking a warm bath,
Walking down a long path,
Happy times listed above began with a verb, an action,
To be happy we must create our own satisfaction.

Tammy Harvey 3/17/2022

*Nightbirde wrote and performed "It's Ok" on AGT in 2021 and received a Golden Buzzer.
She just passed from a terminal illness at the age of 31 and her words were:

‘You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you decide to be happy.’

Lost but Never Alone

 Deviating from my usual rhyming poetry, I wrote a short story for today's read.  It may or may not have actually happened, but I know I have always had a fear of being lost in the dark.

Lost but not Alone

There were no stars in the night sky.  The clouds had covered the moon.  It was a pitch black; a darkness that was haunting.  As she drove in the darkness, the white lines on the road looked blurred.  Her inability to see in front of her was alarming.  She clutched the steering wheel with a grip that caused her shoulders to raise and stiffen in a crouched position.  Her teeth were clenched tightly making her jaw throb in pain.  There was a hollowness in the pit of her stomach.  Her heart pounded deep in her chest, and she felt like her throat was going to close.  She blinked her eyes to try and clear the fog from her head.  The literal fog was blinding, and she was lost.  When and where she took the wrong turn was something she did not know.  Then rain started to fall.  As her windshield wipers kept the beat, fear overtook her, and her thoughts were running wild.  Her 1974 Chevy was running low on gas, or was it?  It was hard to know as the gas gauge was unreliable and had needed repair for some time.  Was she running on fumes? Would she be forced to stop along a road she did not know?  The rain came down harder, and she didn’t know where to go.  Her fear was overwhelming.  There were no road signs, no landmarks, no civilization.  She did not even see a random house along the roadside. She argued within herself whether to turn around and go back into the unknown or continue forward into the unknown.

It was tormenting to be driving alone, in the dark, possibly with no fuel and to be lost with no sense of direction.  She pulled off to the shoulder of the narrow road, laid her head down onto the steering wheel and began sobbing.  It was a sob that didn’t relieve her fear or distress; it only escalated her situation into a panic attack.  She tried to calm herself as she almost hyperventilated.  She rolled down her window and let the rain fall onto her face mixing with her tears.  Her hopelessness and her thought process had already begun to fabricate the horrible scenarios that could happen to her. 

At that moment, she began to pray, harder than she ever had in her lifetime: “Please God.  Help me.  Lead me.  Guide me. Keep me Safe. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”  Just as quickly, a calm came over her body.  The pressure inside her chest was lifted.  She knew she was not alone.  She realized she was never really alone.  Lost, yes.  Afraid, yes, but not alone.  She called on her heavenly Father to help her in her time of need.  Her strength was renewed, and she collected herself with a surge of confidence that was necessary to carry on.  It was then she decided to turn back.  She would turn around and go back the way she came.  With a deep breath and a huge exhale, she put the car in gear.

The rain slowly started to let up as she returned along the same route she had just travelled.  She had her resolve. Her shoulders relaxed some, and the clinch in her jaw softened.  Her mind which had been racing was starting to think more clearly.  And she prayed, “I put my trust in you Lord” and “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”.  The panic lifted and she had a feeling of safety.  She continued to drive, but still no other cars were in sight.  After about 3 miles, she heard a small voice inside her head urging her to turn right at the next road.  She thought it strange, but she had an uncontrollable urge to turn right, and she felt led to turn.  She made the turn, and the rain completely stopped.  Now her visibility had improved and even though nothing looked familiar to her, she felt better.  In another mile or so, she again felt compelled to make another turn.  After she made that turn, she began to pass a few cars along the way.  She was so encouraged.  Cars were coming from the direction she was heading.  That was a good sign.  “Thank you, Jesus” she said under her breath.  Almost without warning, the road opened up into a major intersection with a gas station on her right.  It was lit up brightly and was welcoming.  She had tears of joy flowing down her face as she pulled up slowly to the gas pumps.  She was definitely going to fill up her tank and go inside for directions.  Her prayers had been answered. Her heart was uplifted, and she knew she was going to be okay.

 In times of trouble, she had always been taught she could call on the God of all creation.  She had heard that her entire childhood.  She was raised to hear the miracles of Jesus in class every Sunday.  She remembered a poster that was in her classroom that proclaimed: “Faith is always stronger than Fear”.  She felt thankful and blessed.   Her faith had carried her through a frightening situation.  The next day she wrestled with the idea of sharing her experience with others.  Would they think she was a lunatic?  On one hand, she wanted to tell everyone she knew what had happened, but on the other hand, she was not willing to subject herself to the judgement of others.  Again, fear was dictating her life.  It was one thing for her to have a personal relationship with Christ, but it was quite another to be a witness for Him.  She knew the Lord called her to spread the good news, but she felt weak and unwilling.

The situation she had experienced produced a story that was perfect for sharing with others in order to share her faith.  It was relatable and powerful.  Maybe by sharing, she could help someone else call on God in their time of need.  It was a responsibility, but it felt like a burden.  For several days, she pondered what her co-workers would say if she shared with them.  Would they laugh?  Sympathize?  Understand?  She mustered up the courage.  Today would be the day.  Her whole headspace had become so exaggerated.  The what-ifs were a pile of doubt standing in her way, but she brushed it all aside.  During her lunchbreak she sat down as always across from the people who were her co-workers.  She thought it amazing how she could work with people every day and really not know anything about them and their spirituality. She poured her heart out to them, sharing the story of the night that was so overcome with fear, then joy.  Her emphasis was on the fact that the Holy Spirit had led her out of the darkness and into the light.  The response was enormously positive.  They weren’t skeptical of her.  She didn’t think they thought she was a lunatic.  Some pondered the story, and others soaked it up like a sponge.  One lady with tears in her eyes said she knew the power of the Holy Spirit.  It was refreshing to find a fellow believer.  For others, she knew she had planted a seed.  Someone else might have to come along to water it and help it grow, but she felt she had fulfilled her calling.

Sharing the gospel is hard for most, but it is made easier through personal experiences we all go through.  These real-life situations are happening all around us.  If God performs a miracle for you, be sure to share it with others.  It is a gift he is giving you to give to others.  Look for God working in your life every day.  He is there.  You are not alone! 

Tammy Harvey

2/28/2022