Thanksgiving is two weeks from today! It has suddenly crept up on me during the distractions of the past couple of weeks! I have hardly had time to think about something I have looked forward to with joyous anticipation for so long--meeting with most of my family for a Thanksgiving celebration in Houston at our son, Jamie’s house!
Our son, Greg, and his family reserved a mini-van rental weeks ago for the trip and invited us to ride with them. What a relief to leave our car at home and the driving to them! Meanwhile, the reality that we are trying to accomplish a move has set in.
It all started a few months ago in the heat of summer when we received an enormous electric bill. I was complaining about it to Greg, and he said, “Well, why don’t you move in with us?” When I thought about the winter heating bills ahead, it sounded tempting. They have a large, two-story house, and we started playing with idea a bit. Maybe Howard could even quit his job and take preaching engagements now and then. Suddenly they had cleared out a small den for us and made a bedroom and bath available! The house could be rented out.
Finally we got in gear and have moved almost everything over there; we will put the other things in storage for the time being. Talk about down-sizing! I can’t wait for the freedom of responsibility in maintaining a home!
Everything in our new digs is looking cute and cozy, but rather a shambles here at the old house right now.
I was just getting over the news that our two-year-old granddaughter had had a playground accident and was wearing a cast on her arm, when our dear pastor and his wife were involved in a serious car accident that took the life of their friend and injured her husband, who had been holding revival meetings at our church! Between Howard taking charge of the services at the church and a trip two hours away to a Tulsa hospital to check on them and moving piece-meal, not to mention two earthquakes in one day and a large after-shock, it’s no wonder I have had sensory overload!
No matter, I can devote the next week to getting ready for our trip. I’m already getting excited about it again. Jamie is a chef who produces wonderful feeds, besides which he is not one to let his guests be bored. There are always fun activities planned, in addition to catching up on family news and the wonderful camaraderie and hilarity of being together. What a great time to count our blessings!
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Autumn Reverie
“Look at those colors!” I exclaimed to my husband yesterday as I pointed out the roadside scenery. The trees were gorgeous in their fall glory. We were on our way to Tulsa through the rolling Osage hills. Valleys were spread with a multi-colored blanket, the rounded treetops the crowded puffs of a cozy comforter.
Here I’d been wanting to go to Tennessee or New England to view the autumn foliage, and we had this riot of colors right here at home. Maybe it was the grey, damp skies that set off the Technicolor panorama before us. The yellow hickories and yellow-green elms were bursts of sunlight among the glowing red-orange embers that were oak and hardwood leaves. Individual maples wore a color wheel of vermillion, dark red, bright red, yellow, orange, brown, green and yellow green.
Before moving to the flat plains of the Kay county wheat lands at age 10, I’d lived in this hilly area of Oklahoma, but I don’t remember appreciating or noticing the seasonal color changes of trees. That was probably due to the obliviousness of childhood, but I wonder if the pastime and hobby of those known as “peepers” was even popular back then. Today thousands mark their calendars and schedule vacations according to the best leaf color in any part of the country at any given time. People are more mobile now and have more free time than back then, when we had more important things to think about, like having enough wood cut for the winter.
We had taken the 2 hour trip to visit the hospital beds of friends involved in a serious car crash. Stopping by the hospital canteen for coffee, my eyes fell on two men seated at a table. Though one looked vaguely familiar, I couldn’t help looking intently at the other man. He looked more than vaguely familiar. His eyes, expression and facial features almost made me think I was looking at my dad! I tried not to stare at him, but when I stole a sideways glance, he was looking at me, too. It was uncanny. A little later I found out they were brothers of our pastor, who was one of the accident victims. I didn’t want to embarrass the man by telling him my impression, so I let it go.
Maybe it was the nostalgia of being in this area again, or the remembering of wood smoke curling above humble country houses in the crisping autumn weather that made me identify with the careworn, kind face of a stranger. Or perhaps a common gene of my slight Indian heritage ran through these local people that made them seem slightly familiar. My tall, handsome father’s strong features of jet black hair, straight posture and tanned complexion had faded with years, his skin becoming fragile and papery as the golden brown leaves blowing outside, the ones evoking a memory on the wind.
Here I’d been wanting to go to Tennessee or New England to view the autumn foliage, and we had this riot of colors right here at home. Maybe it was the grey, damp skies that set off the Technicolor panorama before us. The yellow hickories and yellow-green elms were bursts of sunlight among the glowing red-orange embers that were oak and hardwood leaves. Individual maples wore a color wheel of vermillion, dark red, bright red, yellow, orange, brown, green and yellow green.
Before moving to the flat plains of the Kay county wheat lands at age 10, I’d lived in this hilly area of Oklahoma, but I don’t remember appreciating or noticing the seasonal color changes of trees. That was probably due to the obliviousness of childhood, but I wonder if the pastime and hobby of those known as “peepers” was even popular back then. Today thousands mark their calendars and schedule vacations according to the best leaf color in any part of the country at any given time. People are more mobile now and have more free time than back then, when we had more important things to think about, like having enough wood cut for the winter.
We had taken the 2 hour trip to visit the hospital beds of friends involved in a serious car crash. Stopping by the hospital canteen for coffee, my eyes fell on two men seated at a table. Though one looked vaguely familiar, I couldn’t help looking intently at the other man. He looked more than vaguely familiar. His eyes, expression and facial features almost made me think I was looking at my dad! I tried not to stare at him, but when I stole a sideways glance, he was looking at me, too. It was uncanny. A little later I found out they were brothers of our pastor, who was one of the accident victims. I didn’t want to embarrass the man by telling him my impression, so I let it go.
Maybe it was the nostalgia of being in this area again, or the remembering of wood smoke curling above humble country houses in the crisping autumn weather that made me identify with the careworn, kind face of a stranger. Or perhaps a common gene of my slight Indian heritage ran through these local people that made them seem slightly familiar. My tall, handsome father’s strong features of jet black hair, straight posture and tanned complexion had faded with years, his skin becoming fragile and papery as the golden brown leaves blowing outside, the ones evoking a memory on the wind.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Paths Crossing
“I need another book,” our pastor’s wife, Clara, said to me last Sunday. I had given her one of my books as a birthday present, and she had previously bought one to give to a friend. “I want to buy one to give to Kaye, our evangelist’s wife,” she said.
“Oh, good!” I said. “Which one do you want, Heartthoughts or Seasons of the Heart?” She said she wanted Hearthoughts, my first book, so I impusively said, “Then let me give her Seasons.”
Our revival had just started that morning, and I had only briefly met Kaye. I saw who I thought was a visitor sitting on a row by a regular family. They had smiled at me with a knowing look when I murmured an inquiry as to whether she were with them, so I approached her with a smile and asked, “Who are you to these people?”
“Nobody!” the pretty lady said disarmingly. I apologized, and then it dawned on me she was the wife of the evangelist. That night I gave her the books, one from me and one from Clara, and she was delighted, saying she loved to read. I told her they were from my blogs, and she said, “Oh, I love to read blogs! What is your blog address?” I said I would write it down for her. It was fun getting to know her when we went out for a snack with the pastors after church.
I found out she had two daughters, and I asked if they lived near her. “Well, they did until recently, then one moved away,” she said. I knew how that felt, and asked where they had moved to, ready to commiserate. “On the other side of town,” she said. I had to smile, a little ironically, since I live nearly a thousand miles from my daughters. “I baby sit, get up at six o’clock and go over and get the kids ready for school every morning,” she told me gaily. Exactly what I used to do, I thought, identifying with her devotion to family.
We got to say a few words over the next few services, and Tuesday night I stood by her in the pew and chatted as the service closed. Wednesday night, the last revival night, I was feeling ill and didn’t go to church. My husband told me she had asked about me and had joined the other ladies in a circle to have prayer for me.
Thursday afternoon I answered the phone to terrible news. On their way to the airport, there had been a head-on collision seriously injuring our pastor, his wife Clara, and the evangelist. Unbelievably, Kaye had died. How could that be? Only a few years younger than me, dating her future husband through high school and struggling through Bible school together as a young couple--all the things I had learned about her in the past few days that made me feel like I knew her. And maybe she knew me, too, a little, through the pages of the books I’m sure she must have taken time to read from. I’m so glad I had the impulse that day to give her one. Impulse? I’m sure now it was the nudging of the Holy Spirit.
“Oh, good!” I said. “Which one do you want, Heartthoughts or Seasons of the Heart?” She said she wanted Hearthoughts, my first book, so I impusively said, “Then let me give her Seasons.”
Our revival had just started that morning, and I had only briefly met Kaye. I saw who I thought was a visitor sitting on a row by a regular family. They had smiled at me with a knowing look when I murmured an inquiry as to whether she were with them, so I approached her with a smile and asked, “Who are you to these people?”
“Nobody!” the pretty lady said disarmingly. I apologized, and then it dawned on me she was the wife of the evangelist. That night I gave her the books, one from me and one from Clara, and she was delighted, saying she loved to read. I told her they were from my blogs, and she said, “Oh, I love to read blogs! What is your blog address?” I said I would write it down for her. It was fun getting to know her when we went out for a snack with the pastors after church.
I found out she had two daughters, and I asked if they lived near her. “Well, they did until recently, then one moved away,” she said. I knew how that felt, and asked where they had moved to, ready to commiserate. “On the other side of town,” she said. I had to smile, a little ironically, since I live nearly a thousand miles from my daughters. “I baby sit, get up at six o’clock and go over and get the kids ready for school every morning,” she told me gaily. Exactly what I used to do, I thought, identifying with her devotion to family.
We got to say a few words over the next few services, and Tuesday night I stood by her in the pew and chatted as the service closed. Wednesday night, the last revival night, I was feeling ill and didn’t go to church. My husband told me she had asked about me and had joined the other ladies in a circle to have prayer for me.
Thursday afternoon I answered the phone to terrible news. On their way to the airport, there had been a head-on collision seriously injuring our pastor, his wife Clara, and the evangelist. Unbelievably, Kaye had died. How could that be? Only a few years younger than me, dating her future husband through high school and struggling through Bible school together as a young couple--all the things I had learned about her in the past few days that made me feel like I knew her. And maybe she knew me, too, a little, through the pages of the books I’m sure she must have taken time to read from. I’m so glad I had the impulse that day to give her one. Impulse? I’m sure now it was the nudging of the Holy Spirit.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
The Way I See It
“What does this cough medicine do?” I asked the drug supplier stocking the counter. I knew we wanted an expectorant for my husband’s cough, but I was curious about DM, or Dextromethorphan. “Which is better?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Ma’am,” he said. “You’ll have to check with our pharmacist.”
I went to the pharmacy and asked the person at the window. He pointed out that DM was a cough suppressant, which I would have known if I’d had my glasses on. “But don’t you need to cough to clear your lungs?” I asked, “Which is better?” Then he called over a woman who must have been the pharmacist.
When I asked her about it, she said, “Well, it is rather counterproductive to take a cough suppressant when you need to cough, so I guess that one is better,” referring to the cough syrup with expectorant. Then she said, “You’re the first person who has ever asked that.”
Now where have I heard that before? Couldn’t have been at the airport when I took off my socks as well as my shoes for security. “Well, it says, ‘lose the socks’ on the paper in the bottom of the tray,” I explained when the attendant said, “What are those socks doing in there?”
“You’re the first person that has ever done it!” she exclaimed. (Turns out it was an ad for a Florida beach vacation!)
Or when I read the sign at security that said to have your computer removed from your carry-on to have ready to place on the belt, and I followed directions. When the security guard saw me carrying the computer, he exclaimed, “You mean you actually read the sign? You’re the first one that ever has!”
So I’m naïve. Or do I just march to the beat of a different drummer? When our special speaker at church was doing a sermon on “laminins”, the cross-shaped protein substance that holds our muscles together, he called it “The First Super Glue”. All I could think of was, “We are cross-stitched together!” When you think about it, though, it is pretty accurate: If it were not for the benefit of salvation from Jesus’ death on the cross, we would be fraying at the seams!
“I don’t know, Ma’am,” he said. “You’ll have to check with our pharmacist.”
I went to the pharmacy and asked the person at the window. He pointed out that DM was a cough suppressant, which I would have known if I’d had my glasses on. “But don’t you need to cough to clear your lungs?” I asked, “Which is better?” Then he called over a woman who must have been the pharmacist.
When I asked her about it, she said, “Well, it is rather counterproductive to take a cough suppressant when you need to cough, so I guess that one is better,” referring to the cough syrup with expectorant. Then she said, “You’re the first person who has ever asked that.”
Now where have I heard that before? Couldn’t have been at the airport when I took off my socks as well as my shoes for security. “Well, it says, ‘lose the socks’ on the paper in the bottom of the tray,” I explained when the attendant said, “What are those socks doing in there?”
“You’re the first person that has ever done it!” she exclaimed. (Turns out it was an ad for a Florida beach vacation!)
Or when I read the sign at security that said to have your computer removed from your carry-on to have ready to place on the belt, and I followed directions. When the security guard saw me carrying the computer, he exclaimed, “You mean you actually read the sign? You’re the first one that ever has!”
So I’m naïve. Or do I just march to the beat of a different drummer? When our special speaker at church was doing a sermon on “laminins”, the cross-shaped protein substance that holds our muscles together, he called it “The First Super Glue”. All I could think of was, “We are cross-stitched together!” When you think about it, though, it is pretty accurate: If it were not for the benefit of salvation from Jesus’ death on the cross, we would be fraying at the seams!
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Falling Apart? Not in a Million Years!
“I want you all to be schizophrenic!” the evangelist surprised us by exclaiming. His next words clarified what he meant. “Some people say if you talk to God, that is wise. But if God talks to you, you are schizophrenic! So I want you to be schizophrenic!”
This unorthodox preacher held us on the edge of our seats in every service, it seemed. He was always enlarging our minds and presenting new ways of thinking about old truths that left us hungry for more. His impassioned messages left us with hearts crying out for more of the Holy Spirit who was so in evidence in the meetings.
Last night the minister began by giving us mind-boggling revelation about the size of the universe that God has created. He showed that our sun is the size of a basketball compared to the pea that is the earth, saying that a million earths could fit inside the sun. The nearest star is 8.5 light years away, and a light year is the distance that light can travel in one year, or six trillion miles!
Citing scriptures like Jeremiah 51:15 which says, “He hath made the earth by his power, he hath established the world by his wisdom, and hath stretched out the heaven by his understanding,” and “All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made," John 1:3, he established the vastness of God for us.
Stressing that Colossians 1:17 teaches that by Him all things are held together, the evangelist gave a fascinating illustration of what he called “God’s Super Glue”. Having worked as a surgery tech as well as a Bible school professor, he was very familiar with medical knowledge and the anatomy of the human body. He had learned of a major protein in the body which literally holds us together. It is known as laminin, and without it, the flesh would not stay on our bones. The amazing thing about it is that under a microscope it can be see that it is in the shape of a cross!
How amazing to know that God not only created the infinite universe, but that he also created the intricacies of the human body and left his fingerprint there! Not only are we held together physically by the cross (laminin), we are also held together spiritually by the Cross! The writers of the scriptures had no way of knowing this about our bodies when they penned the above verses! Thank God that they and we take by faith our salvation, but a modern scientific discovery stands in mute testimony of the God who created us all! He is talking to us!
This unorthodox preacher held us on the edge of our seats in every service, it seemed. He was always enlarging our minds and presenting new ways of thinking about old truths that left us hungry for more. His impassioned messages left us with hearts crying out for more of the Holy Spirit who was so in evidence in the meetings.
Last night the minister began by giving us mind-boggling revelation about the size of the universe that God has created. He showed that our sun is the size of a basketball compared to the pea that is the earth, saying that a million earths could fit inside the sun. The nearest star is 8.5 light years away, and a light year is the distance that light can travel in one year, or six trillion miles!
Citing scriptures like Jeremiah 51:15 which says, “He hath made the earth by his power, he hath established the world by his wisdom, and hath stretched out the heaven by his understanding,” and “All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made," John 1:3, he established the vastness of God for us.
Stressing that Colossians 1:17 teaches that by Him all things are held together, the evangelist gave a fascinating illustration of what he called “God’s Super Glue”. Having worked as a surgery tech as well as a Bible school professor, he was very familiar with medical knowledge and the anatomy of the human body. He had learned of a major protein in the body which literally holds us together. It is known as laminin, and without it, the flesh would not stay on our bones. The amazing thing about it is that under a microscope it can be see that it is in the shape of a cross!
How amazing to know that God not only created the infinite universe, but that he also created the intricacies of the human body and left his fingerprint there! Not only are we held together physically by the cross (laminin), we are also held together spiritually by the Cross! The writers of the scriptures had no way of knowing this about our bodies when they penned the above verses! Thank God that they and we take by faith our salvation, but a modern scientific discovery stands in mute testimony of the God who created us all! He is talking to us!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Never Too Early
Taking his cue from the JFK statement, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but ask what you can do for your country,” the evangelist said, “Don’t ask God for a task that fits your ability, but believe that God will give you the ability for the task.”
He recalled a time when he was a youth pastor many years ago. As a project for the youth group, he assigned them the task of hand-copying the Bible! Surprisingly, they rose to the challenge and worked long and hard for 18 months, the Bible being divided into sections for different groups.
“It was amazing,” the former youth pastor said, showing us a newspaper clipping with the publicity gained by the unusual project, with the headline, “YOUTH GROUP COPIES BIBLE BY HAND”. “Sometimes in stormy weather when the youth group had gathered and the power went out due to snow and blizzards, they would work by candlelight, carefully writing on old parchment paper, just like the scribes of old.”
He described one girl who was particularly dedicated to the project. “She was short and thin, with long stringy hair and came to church whether someone picked her up or she had to walk.” He went on, “This girl had the sweetest personality ever, but with her freckles and uneven teeth, she couldn’t be called pretty. In fact, she was more than plain, she was ugly!”
“She was devoted to the task, though,” he went on. Then the evangelist’s voice broke. “And do you know where she is now, some 35 years later?” he asked. “She’s in the jungles of Peru, working with Wycliffe Bible Translators to translate the Bible into their language!”
Tears came to my eyes at the realization of this marvelous outcome for the young girl, who seemed to have little to offer in the eyes of the world. The evangelist said he was firmly convinced that God had given her the ability for such a task when she was faithful to the lesser task way back then.
Just today I have been so gratified to see the results of years of parents pouring into children and staying faithful to the Biblical injunction to “Bring up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it.” A beautiful worship song has been composed and recorded and put on the internet by a talented young man whose father was a worship leader in our former church for years. We knew the parents as a young couple who were devoted to serving the Lord.
Also, today, I viewed on the internet a wonderfully done, inspirational, dramatic video, created and directed by our youngest son. God has surely given to these young men the ability for the tasks of reaching people for the Kingdom!
He recalled a time when he was a youth pastor many years ago. As a project for the youth group, he assigned them the task of hand-copying the Bible! Surprisingly, they rose to the challenge and worked long and hard for 18 months, the Bible being divided into sections for different groups.
“It was amazing,” the former youth pastor said, showing us a newspaper clipping with the publicity gained by the unusual project, with the headline, “YOUTH GROUP COPIES BIBLE BY HAND”. “Sometimes in stormy weather when the youth group had gathered and the power went out due to snow and blizzards, they would work by candlelight, carefully writing on old parchment paper, just like the scribes of old.”
He described one girl who was particularly dedicated to the project. “She was short and thin, with long stringy hair and came to church whether someone picked her up or she had to walk.” He went on, “This girl had the sweetest personality ever, but with her freckles and uneven teeth, she couldn’t be called pretty. In fact, she was more than plain, she was ugly!”
“She was devoted to the task, though,” he went on. Then the evangelist’s voice broke. “And do you know where she is now, some 35 years later?” he asked. “She’s in the jungles of Peru, working with Wycliffe Bible Translators to translate the Bible into their language!”
Tears came to my eyes at the realization of this marvelous outcome for the young girl, who seemed to have little to offer in the eyes of the world. The evangelist said he was firmly convinced that God had given her the ability for such a task when she was faithful to the lesser task way back then.
Just today I have been so gratified to see the results of years of parents pouring into children and staying faithful to the Biblical injunction to “Bring up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it.” A beautiful worship song has been composed and recorded and put on the internet by a talented young man whose father was a worship leader in our former church for years. We knew the parents as a young couple who were devoted to serving the Lord.
Also, today, I viewed on the internet a wonderfully done, inspirational, dramatic video, created and directed by our youngest son. God has surely given to these young men the ability for the tasks of reaching people for the Kingdom!
Sunday, October 30, 2011
High Dollar Rollers
“We’re going to do something a little different this morning,” said our pastor just before starting the Sunday morning service. “Brother John has asked me if he could have a couple of minutes, so I agreed. Brother John?” he said as he motioned for the man, who could only be called a character, to come up.
“Well, I just wanted to take this opportunity to wish my wife a happy anniversary!” John said in his folksy drawl. “We’ve been married 56 years!” Everyone applauded politely, and he continued, “Now I couldn’t be like so many of these guys who are talented: Susie's husband could sing her a song for their anniversary, and Sally’s husband has an old 'coon dog, he could take her 'coon hunting for their anniversary,” he said as she smiled indulgently from the piano.
“Brother Joe, he’s a barber, so I guess he could give his wife a haircut for an anniversary present,” the loquacious original went on as the lady shook her head vigorously from the pew. "And you preachers out there, you could probably preach your wife a real good sermon for her anniversary!" (I must say I could relate to that!) "But I wrote my wife a poem," he said proudly. Then he read a whimsical poem in his clumsy, appealing way, to his wife’s pleased embarrassment.
“I told her I was going to take her on a trip for our anniversary, so we went to two garage sales,” he quipped. "Then I asked if there was anything else she wanted to do, and she said yes, she wanted to top it off by going to Burger King!”
Later, the guest speaker talked about a recent anniversary of his own. “I was in a drugstore getting my wife a card a little late,” he explained. “The line to the cash register was long, and I had been waiting awhile when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.” He paused a moment and then said, “It was my wife!”
“ ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked me. ‘Are you buying me a card?’ I told her yes, and she said she was buying me one, too! Then I said, ‘Why don’t you just read this one, and I’ll read the one you were going to buy me, then we can go get a sandwich with the money we saved!’ And that is what we did!”
With age comes thrift and a greater appreciation for the simple things. We, too, are guilty of pinching pennies and enjoying the senior discounts. But our best anniversary was our 50th, when our kids surprised us with a destination “AnniverseReunion” at the Gaylord-Opryland Resort Hotel where all our six children, their spouses, and our 18 grandchildren joined us for a memorable few days. The glitzy surroundings were balanced out by our visit to the Grand Ole Opry and our huge family dinner at the rustic Caney Forks Fish Camp restaurant! It turned out to be our most economical anniversary, too, since they wouldn’t let us pay for a thing!
“Well, I just wanted to take this opportunity to wish my wife a happy anniversary!” John said in his folksy drawl. “We’ve been married 56 years!” Everyone applauded politely, and he continued, “Now I couldn’t be like so many of these guys who are talented: Susie's husband could sing her a song for their anniversary, and Sally’s husband has an old 'coon dog, he could take her 'coon hunting for their anniversary,” he said as she smiled indulgently from the piano.
“Brother Joe, he’s a barber, so I guess he could give his wife a haircut for an anniversary present,” the loquacious original went on as the lady shook her head vigorously from the pew. "And you preachers out there, you could probably preach your wife a real good sermon for her anniversary!" (I must say I could relate to that!) "But I wrote my wife a poem," he said proudly. Then he read a whimsical poem in his clumsy, appealing way, to his wife’s pleased embarrassment.
“I told her I was going to take her on a trip for our anniversary, so we went to two garage sales,” he quipped. "Then I asked if there was anything else she wanted to do, and she said yes, she wanted to top it off by going to Burger King!”
Later, the guest speaker talked about a recent anniversary of his own. “I was in a drugstore getting my wife a card a little late,” he explained. “The line to the cash register was long, and I had been waiting awhile when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.” He paused a moment and then said, “It was my wife!”
“ ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked me. ‘Are you buying me a card?’ I told her yes, and she said she was buying me one, too! Then I said, ‘Why don’t you just read this one, and I’ll read the one you were going to buy me, then we can go get a sandwich with the money we saved!’ And that is what we did!”
With age comes thrift and a greater appreciation for the simple things. We, too, are guilty of pinching pennies and enjoying the senior discounts. But our best anniversary was our 50th, when our kids surprised us with a destination “AnniverseReunion” at the Gaylord-Opryland Resort Hotel where all our six children, their spouses, and our 18 grandchildren joined us for a memorable few days. The glitzy surroundings were balanced out by our visit to the Grand Ole Opry and our huge family dinner at the rustic Caney Forks Fish Camp restaurant! It turned out to be our most economical anniversary, too, since they wouldn’t let us pay for a thing!
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