stove
The glare of the bright morning sun streams through the kitchen window illuminating all in its path. A brightness not experienced other times of the year is shown in the kitchen space as summer is nearly upon us. As I gaze at the space occupied as the kitchen I recall the original room as it was before its transitional evolution to today’s design. The old wood cook stove sat in the corner of the room with suitably chopped wood in the bucket nearby. Near the entrance close to the hallway and back door was the old ice box. The ice man would deliver ice twice each week and that unit maintained refrigeration for a family of four. The old kitchen sink sat in the corner and was used sparingly as water was stored in the tank behind the house. Dad would crank the old gas engine pump near the spring to renew the supply of water each day. The power company had refused to extend power lines to the three houses on our farm because there were not enough homes in our area to economically justify the lines. Memories of those early years as a toddler on the farm were brought to mind as the modern kitchen of today was brightly displayed in the morning sun. I don’t recall a single instance of either parent complaining about their lack of power or need to take so many extra steps to prepare a meal. Instead, I recall how thankful they were for what they had and the blessing of a home and family. A house is but a structure that contains some functional elements for occupants. A grateful family enjoying the space together makes that space a home. May your heart find a place of gratitude that creates the place called home!
The bright glow of the morning sun streaks through the kitchen window illuminating the old Hoosier cabinet that stands as evidence of many years past. Gleaming now in its well worn state it still stands as harbinger of spices, kitchen supplies and a few seldom used pans. Almost unnoticed at other times, this handsome relic seems to shout its long lasting utility on this sunny spring morning. Childhood memories of my mother sifting flour from the built in bin as she began the preparation of homemade biscuits begin to flow. Inside the roll-up cabinet face was once my baby bottle from which this then two year old would take his fill. Deep in memory is the warmth that permeated the kitchen as the wood cook stove was heating up for the meal preparation under way. Long gone are the stove, the flour, the baby bottle and the loving hands that showed mastery of them all. Still lingering are the warm memories flashed upon the mind’s screen by the bright glow of the sun this spring morning. Midst challenges to maintain and even regain physical flexibility from a winter’s repose, thankfulness for the blessings already amassed fuel hope and gratitude for what is now and what will come. “This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24
Crackles and a roar from the old cast iron stove give evidence that the living space in the old farm house will soon be warmer. With animals and humans fed, it’s time for thoughtful and thankful reflection upon God’s gifts. The wonder of renewed connections since this year began has been amazing. Not only has there been reconnection with dear college friends, but also with a cherished cousin from whom contact had been lost for years. Another delight arrived just a few nights ago when we discovered that our former Pastor from our church in Connecticut is living less thirty miles away. A quick email to the contact information we found prompted a rapid and welcoming response from the man who baptized our daughter. Memories flooded my mind as we emailed back and forth with only highlights of the years since Milford. Our task will now be to establish a time when we can reconnect face to face with this inspiring man and his equally engaging wife. Reflecting now on the wonder of friends, family, and acquaintances, I give thanks to the creator of relationships whose demonstration of grace and mercy has and will continue to be the model upon which we stand. Not only have we established delightful new acquaintances over the past year here, but we have also uncovered older connections that add to our delight. A heap of gratitude now fills this overflowing heart!
The fire crackles as the old wood stove heats up to her usual warming glow. Gracie is curled longingly at my feet and Blackberry, the rabbit, is scurrying from point to point in his cage as he greets the day. The sunrise is peeking through the trees as the first day back at the farm begins to unfold. The agenda is full, but for now we bathe in the warmth and serenity of God’s graciousness as we give thanks for the memories of time with family and friends in Florida. Gratitude fills our cup as we bask in the peace of a safe return. As Dorothy would say; “There’s no place like home.”
Overcast and gloomy, the sky looks ominously like it is about to let loose its bounty of moisture. Rain, snow, or a daunting mix of both may be forthcoming as the day progresses. Armed with a hefty stack of Carolina cut wood and a trusty stove in which it burns, one would think this time is for hunkering down to a weekend reflection at the old farm house. Ever so grateful for the hunkering option, we choose instead to venture out to the local theater to view a live broadcast from the Metropolitan Opera. Eager to meet friends and enjoy the warmth of the theater, we are ever so grateful for the opportunity about to unfold. This thankful aging youngster (in self-perception only) is overjoyed that rigidity, tremor, and lost agility are not barriers, but rather slight impediments to be acknowledged only in the moment of their appearance. It is amazing how a heart of gratitude can change a thought of woe into a head full of “wow”. A mind full of thanks is the ticket for admission to the theater of joy that awaits a curtain call each day!
Smoke from the old chimney billowed upward only to disappear into the glow of the morning sun. The old farmhouse sat serenely atop the hill leading to the ravine by the creek. The family welcomed the timid knock on the door by this adventurous young country lad. As the door swung fully open, the smell of freshly cooked food burst forth from the depths of the time worn kitchen in the rear of the house. Though early in the morning, the savory scent was not of bacon and eggs, but of something quite different. The table in the old kitchen near the well worn wood cook stove was already set and hot biscuits were about to be rendered from the oven. Fried chicken and hot biscuits with gravy was about to be served up to the family of four waiting longingly for the fare. An invitation to join was declined by this lad since a feast of country ham and eggs had already been consumed earlier. This wanderer said his goodbyes and gave proper thanks for the invitation before departing for more adventures through the woods that morning. Memories are like precious jewels stored in the chest of time. Occasional browsing through the well worn chest yields an orb of value far beyond its initial appearance. Coated with the salve of thankfulness and polished with the cloth of gratitude, the remembered gem is placed back in the chest of time to shine brighter than before.
The storm has passed and the winds are calm. Fields and forest alike are covered in the blanket of snow deposited last evening. The iced over pond is host to waves of frosty white as the morning sun gently peeks its head over the horizon. Peace and calm prevail as road traffic has diminished to just the occasional hearty soul venturing out this bone chilled day. A swing from sixty sunny degrees to a frigid eighteen degrees hosting a beautiful carpet of snow is oddly an exciting and welcomed change for this soldier of the fort who does not need to venture out. Armed with wood for the stove, trusty animal companions and a self imposed list of chores, this cottage dweller gives thanks for another opportunity to experience the goodness of God this day. A glance around the room fills these eyes with pictures and objects that bring back memories for which this soul is filled with gratitude. It is not the object that is cherished; it is the memory and joy of the experience symbolized. Gratitude is the spice that makes life’s feast burst with flavor!
Sunlight glistens off the snow draped fields and forest even as icy wind invades the otherwise calm surroundings. The grasp of winter is fully upon us as the temperature dips to seemingly arctic realms. From the relative warmth of the inside one would find it hard to comprehend the icy chasm between the window and the world outside. The arctic grip has come to visit for a while and preparation has been made for her chilled embrace. Fuel for the furnace and wood for the stove serve to comfort the mammals within. A venture out serves as a reminder to us of the warm blessing that awaits our return to the cozy little farmhouse of our youth. Thankfulness invades as a victor over the thermal challenge of the morning and paves the way along the path to gratitude. The embrace of blessings uncovered generates warmth to last the whole day through!