Love, Laughter, and Life

Adventures With a Book Lover

Category Archives: Life & Faith


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Four Feet, Two Sandals ~ Picture Book & KID KANDY

Four Feet Two Sandals is the perfect book to read when learning about new families moving to our country

Four Feet, Two Sandals

By Karen Lynn Williams & Khadra Mohammed

Illustrated by Dough Chayka

(Eerdmans Books for Young Readers, 2007)

Lina and Feroza met at a refugee camp after traveling to escape war torn countries.

One day, while gathering clothing from a relief truck, two girls secure one sandal from the same pair. Eventually the girls decide to take turns wearing both sandals and they become good friends.

Everyone at the camp is waiting for a new home. Life goes on as they wait. Finally, the day came when Lina’s family reads their names on the list of those who get to travel to America.

What to do with the sandals? The friends figure it out in time to say good-bye.

Four Feet, Two Sandals is a story about current events. This picture book tackles a difficult subject in a realisic yet simple way. Almost everyone has heard about refugees, wars, and relief work. Read this book to help children discuss the challenges and transitions that some families face.

KID KANDY:

Donate Outgrown Clothing

Many families in America, both newly arrived and those who have lived here for a long time, need help. You can help by giving clothes to agencies that help families.

1. Ask mom or dad to help you go through your clothes. Put everything that doesn’t fit anymore in a box or bag. Shoes, coats, pants, shorts, shirts, dresses, and other items are all needed.

2. Help mom or dad find a nearby organization that collects clothes for families in need.

3. If you can, go with your parent to deliver the clothes. If you can’t go, I’m sure they will tell you how the clothes will help other boys and girls.

Way to go! You just helped families that need our help.

I always have a bag or box ready to go. As I find clothes I can’t wear anymore, I place them in the bag. When the bag is full, I donate it to a place that helps others.

I’d love to hear where you gave your outgrown clothes!


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The Bird

The window

By Angie Quantrell Angie Quantrell

I had just finished reading two separate blog posts.

The first post was about clean windows and how they look great – until the sun streams through and we can still see the smudges and streaks left despite our efforts. You can read this Lynn Austin post here. A Clear View

The second post asked the question “Just How Big is God?” The author encouraged readers to consider how God knows every little detail, even down to when a sparrow falls to earth. Every sparrow! Read this post by Leslie A. here. Just How Big is God?

A few mere moments after completing these readings, I heard a loud thunk.

In our house, a thunk usually means a bird has flown into our large picture window.

This window, speaking of clean windows, streaks, and smudges, defies my every attempt to make it clean and sparkling.

I raced towards the front window, glancing down into the flower bed beneath the brick ledge.

Sure enough, a stunned sparrow twitched on the bark. I went out and saw that it barely breathed. I gently picked it up and stroked its back, watching for signs of being stunned or on the edge of death. Some birds survive our window. After a few moments of being knocked out, they flip over and fly away.

This little guy did not. He didn’t take more than 2 or 3 breaths as I held him cupped in my hand. I watched the still breast, hoping that I just couldn’t see the ribs move. But the glass wall was too much for his tiny body.

And there I was. Crying for a tiny sparrow who died from smashing into my window. Even though I could see the dirt and smudges on it, it looked clear and invisible for my feathered friend. There was nothing I could do.

But God knew. He knew the exact moment the sparrow crashed into the window and the second it took its last breath. And He cared that it happened.

God knows all things. He cares about everything in our lives, down to the tiniest detail. Though He is the God of the Universe, He knows and cares.

About us. About that poor sparrow. About me crying when the sparrow died. About my frustrations with daily life or big events or fears that seem silly. He cares.

God cares.


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New Life

This is my daddy and I’m keeping him.

By Angie Quantrell Angie Quantrell

startled gasp for breath

mama’s trimphant labor

wrapping up daddy

 

Haiku by Angie Quantrell

Welcome, Autumn Nahara.

Born April 26 at 10:08 AM.

Another piece of Nana’s heart…


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The World Is Still A Pretty Awesome Place Photos…

Reblogged on WordPress.com

Source: The World Is Still A Pretty Awesome Place Photos…

Inspiring stories that make you smile. Or tear up.


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Love is Spoken Here

Are they more than just words on a card?

Love is spoken here.

These words could be trite, overused, or just a pretty saying.

Are they more?

Maybe those who send or utter, “Love is spoken here,” are well meaning and sincerely offer encouragement, love, and affection.

Do words speak louder than actions? Or is it the other way around?

Do my actions shout in agreement with my quiet words or engage in battle between what I want to do and say and what I actually do and say? Sometimes the answer is both.

Love is spoken here.

Love is shown here.

Love is experienced here.

Love grows here.

Love is here.

Love is.

Love.

These thoughts remind me of the often used love verses for wedding ceremonies, though I think love is not just for marriages. You can read them in 1 Corinthians 13.

What do you think of when you consider love?


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HOME

Home. What a big word.

 

Home is . . .

where I reside

the body I wear

the spouse I adore

my family of love

the animals I adopt

the nature that surrounds me

the future I hope for

my faith that centers me

friends who nuture me

fellow writers who encourage me

the city of my residence

the state and country of my belonging

the planet I inhabit

 

Home is a big word.

 

What does home mean to you?


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I Love Hand-Me-Downs

I’m not above totally enjoying digging through a bag of my sister’s hand-me-downs to pull out new-to-me favorites.

(That would be a literal hand-me-down, as I am older but much shorter than she.)

I also thrill to the seek-and-find treasures I discover at local thrift shops. In fact, the sweater (Mr. Roger’s style cardigan, come in the house-trade the coat for a sweater style) I wear all the time is my best ever purchase from Goodwill.

Seriously. I think my family may be a tad bit exhausted of seeing me wear the same old sweater. Every. Single. Day.

But it is the best sweater! I know I look more granny-like wearing it, but it is comfy, broken in, not too hot, not too cold, but just right.

I’ve had this sweater for over 5 years, conservative estimate. It appears to be well made and may last for another 15. Score! I think I paid $1.99, maybe $2.99.

My husband and I enjoy keeping clothes long past the expiration date (yes, we are THAT couple). One of our favorite games is counting back to find out who is wearing the oldest outfit.

“I’ve had this shirt since Chelsie was 3,” I said.

“Well, I bought these sweats when we were in England,” replies the hubby.

“But I had this dress for Easter when we were in Wapato,” I counter.

And on and on goes the battle.

It is our game. And our life. We are not ones for top of the line, current fashion, get rid of the old and buy new all the time. Some of you may be saying, quietly in your heads, “YES, we know! Go get some new clothes!!!” Maybe you are even yelling that, hoping we will hear.

It’s OK. We are happy with our little game. I think, at heart, we are children of the depression, though we are not really old enough. We use every little thing until it is beyond use. And then maybe we can still find a use for the scraps that remain.

I’m thinking that’s being a good steward of natural resources and God’s providence. Recyling, repurposing, reusing.

Besides, it’s fun.

I’d love to hear where you find your favorite clothes. Are you a scavenger like me? Let’s share tips.


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Two-Year-Old Giant

I’m too big

to sit on a tiny bristle block chair

to sleep on a little bristle block bed

to kiss ducky good-night

I’m too big.

The bed and the duckies

2’s do have an idea of how big they are, and it’s fun watching them figure it out to be certain.

What am I too big for?

Nothing, I hope. Living as a child-at-heart is so much better than an old fuddy duddy.

What are you too big for?

The chair


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Never Use Scissors as a Tool

Mabel, expressing her disappointment. “I can’t believe you did that, mom.”

I’m embarassed to admit that I misused the scissors this morning.

The cat food container was stuck closed. It was very tightly sealed.

The food dishes were empty.

The (in their minds) gaunt kitties were starving.

The husband was already gone, so help was not available except for the above mentioned wasting-away gray girls.

What to do? What to do?

The not-intelligent thinker in my head suggested that I use scissors to pry up the lid.

Not the round-tipped kid scissors. No. Let’s try the pointy-tipped very sharp scissors. Yes. Those will help tremendously.

I didn’t need to be told twice, but grabbed the pointy-tipped scissors and began trying to pry up an edge on the food container.

Just as I was thinking This is not a good idea. These scissors could slip off of the metal and poke me. the unthinkable (apparently not unthinkable, as I had just thought it) happened. The scissors skidded off of the metal tin and slid right into my face!

Yes. Berating myself, I immediately felt blood running down my cheek.

Yes. I stabbed myself on the face.

As Hermoine Granger said in one of the Harry Potter movies, “What. An. Idiot.”

I am forever grateful that God saved me from my poor choice and protected my eyes, nose, and lips. He did not save me from crumbled pride. How humiliating to admit the error of my ways.

I am grateful that the small puncture and slice wound is tiny and the rest of me works quite well.

Warning from one who used scissors improperly: DO NOT use scissors as a tool. They are for cutting. Not prying, digging, scooping, or any other chore. Cutting. Period.

When was my last tetanus shot?


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Mr. Rogers Lives Here

Yes. It’s true. We are a family of Mr. Rogers’ mini-me’s.

I just caught myself making the correlation between one of his daily rituals and a habit of ours.

As soon as we enter our home (sooner for my husband), we remove our outside shoes and don slippers. Coats come off and I add a sweater to keep me cozy, as our indoor temperatures never get above 66 in the winter.

This process is reversed as we prepare to leave. Away go the slippers and on go the outside shoes. My sweater is tucked away and a jacket or coat is worn to protect me from the elements.

Do you remember what Mr. Rogers did each time he came inside at the beginning of his show and and reversed at the end of the show?

Mr. Rogers removed his outside shoes and replaced them with indoor shoes. He also took off his outdoor jacket and put on an indoor cardigan, all the while singing about the beauty of the day in the neighborhood. Yes. That song.

Mr. Rogers was so organized. He didn’t just toss those shoes and jacket on a couch or floor. He tucked away the shoes and carefully placed the jacket on a sweater in the closet. I may occasionally toss my sweater on the washer, but I also have a designated cupboard right by the door for jackets, and shoe racks for both of us.

You have no idea how many times I compare myself to Mr. Rogers when I change gear as I am going out or coming back inside the house. I think his habits were ingrained in my subconcious as I watched his television show. Maybe that was one of his purposes, to model tidiness, organization, and care for our belongings.

And this is a good thing. We are a shoes-off household. Not only does this habit keep icky germs and gunk on shoe bottoms out of the house, it also provides a cleaner environment for my babies to crawl around on and plenty of (mostly) dirt-free floor space for playtime. Mr. Rogers’ transfer of clothes and shoes fits perfectly with our efforts to keep as much of the outdoors, well, outdoors.

That Mr. Rogers was ahead of his time, yet many considered him a fuddy-duddy. I disagree. He was a great role model.

Sitting here in my cardigan sweater and indoor slippers, just humming a certain melody.

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, isn’t it?