END-OF-YEAR THOUGHTS

Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right. Oprah Winfrey

Year's end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us. Hal Borland

Wishing you blessings heaped up and overflowing for the new year! See you next time!

Thursday's Child

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

In 1959, Sammy Kahn and James van Heusen wrote a song for Bing Crosby to sing in Say One for Me. I hope you'll play this little video and listen to the words . . . .

God bless us all this Christmastide!

     With warm wishes from Thursday's Child

I HATE COUNTDOWNS . . .

I know, I used one last year . . . 5 days till Christmas . . . but I'd like to apologize for that. Counting down the days till Something Happens doesn't always hit a big happy note.

Consider some possibilities:
 - the Something is almost here--hurray?
 - or, the Something is almost here--eek!
 - or, the Something is almost here--why am I not happy about that?

Those of us who live by our Lists, Reminders, Post-It Notes, and other alarm bells probably don't need reminding that there are only a few days left until Something Happens. If we haven't already hit the Panic button (over there on the wall, see?), we're not straying far from its location.

-----
So! What can we do instead of a countdown?

How about--look out the window and really, really see what's out there.

Here in NE Indiana, there's a light snow, nearly covering the grass, but not quite. Traffic has worn the street snow down to the pavement, so travel to the bank and P.O. will be quite safe this morning.

A few leaves still hanging around on bushes flutter from time to time to remind me there's wind out there--dress warm!



Sunshine comes and goes--cloudy skies may mean more snow is coming. Enough for Santa's sleigh to make it next week? Maybe so!

My street is almost naked of vehicles--folks went to work as usual. We can all be thankful that they have jobs to go to.

-----
My experience with counting down to something-or-other goes like this:

--the day count sticks in my brain
--brain checks every so often to see what the number of the day was
--repeats ad nauseum

And the result is--I don't actually live in the present time, preparing for the event, thinking about the people involved, remembering past years (sometimes with joy, sometimes with tears). I'm living so far into the future--the result of all the planning and doing--that when the Big Day arrives, I'm exhausted or burned-out or bored. Sometimes all three.

-----
I vote for no more countdowns. (I get enough of those at the grocery and discount stores in my neighborhood.) I have my List of Things to Do for each day. The list is not crammed full. There's space in there for a quiet cup of coffee, a phone visit with one of the kids, reading another chapter of a book I love . . . . Make your own list. Make it really your own--not what you think people want you to do. 

Then, enjoy the holidays coming up. Meet up with friends and relatives you haven't seen in years. If an open house is your thing, do that. If you're a one-on-one type, create the time to visit with individuals you'll enjoy spending quality time with.

-----
One of my mother-in-law's favorite sayings was, "In a hundred years, who'll know?"

Works for me!

UNEXPECTED GIFTS . . .

Back in the day, we might receive a "no-reason present."

No reason, no occasion. Just because.

Recently I received one of the most valuable gifts anyone could give me--the gift of time. The soloist I sometimes accompany at church was undecided about the song he would sing for the Lessons and Carols service after Christmas. He'd given me a copy of a song he liked a lot; it was one I didn't know, and when I listened to it on YouTube, I wasn't excited about it. He also said he might sing "Away in a Manger" using one of the alternate tunes.

The next time I saw him at church, he was playing the keyboard and singing softly. "I've decided," he said. "I'll do 'Away in a Manger' and I'll accompany myself. That way I can use the soft strings or maybe some other setting."

He'd given me at least an hour that I wouldn't have had; we would have rehearsed a couple of times, and I'd have played it for him during the service.


-----
The day before Thanksgiving, one of my neighbors came over with a  loaf of Italian bread in her arms. "We want to share our Thanksgiving meal with you," she said. I thanked her and told her I'd be going to my daughter's house in Ohio on Friday for our holiday dinner.

As it happened, when I packed up everything to take to Ohio, I forgot the bread (it was in the freezer, out of sight). So a couple of days later, I took it to my friend Jane who'd recently had surgery, along with a can of Butternut Squash Soup that she loves and her husband won't touch. It was an unusual get-well gift, and one I know was appreciated.

-----
Last winter two of my neighbors came over and used their snow blowers to clean off my driveway. If I hadn't seen them out there, I wouldn't have known who did it. Their thoughtfulness made it easier for me to get out for my errands.

-----
Last month the guys were here to install new entry doors for me. One morning we had a power outage that lasted an hour and a half. Later one of the guys asked me if I'd tried the garage door that comes into the house--it has stuck for years, mostly in humid weather. So I tried it and it worked perfectly. "I was bored for a while, so I sanded the bottom of the door." He must have done that by hand while the power was off.

-----
A few months ago my sewing group, Heart & Hands, decided to ask church members for donations of fabric or if they didn't have that kind of thing, then funds for purchase of fabric would be appreciated.

Before I got the request written up for the newsletter, one of the women who sometimes sews for us brought in a big tote--a BIG tote--full of flannel from when she made blankets and other baby items for her new grandchildren. She was out of the baby business, she said, so she wanted us to have what she had left. I counted 16-20 yards of fabric, several different designs, all usable for our NICU blankets.

-----
Unexpected? Absolutely!

Not every gift comes with an occasion attached. What the unexpected gift brings is a connection to another person, or group.

My neighborhood isn't chummy. Most of us have jobs, or families, or plenty of projects that keep us occupied. Some of us know each other to speak to, or wave to when we're out in the yard. Then those unexpected gifts remind us that we're not separate--we're all in this together--and even if nothing is said, there is a sense of belonging.

What unexpected gifts can we give? Compassion . . . listening . . . offers of help . . . prayers . . . a note of encouragement . . . a phone call or email . . . . And, once you start thinking of someone who might like an unexpected gift, you'll be making connections.

THE MYTHS OF CHRISTMAS

First, a definition:

Myth—any real or fictional story, recurring theme, or character type that appeals to the consciousness of a people by embodying its cultural ideals or by giving expression to deep, commonly felt emotions.

[I'm repeating this post because I think it says good things about a culture figure many of us have grown up with. Perhaps, as we've matured, we've gone deeper into the "meaning" of Christmas, and have discovered for ourselves, as Linus Van Pelt says to Charlie Brown, that "this is what Christmas is all about."]
-----

Do you remember when you were told there was no Santa Claus? That's right--no jolly fat man in a big red suit, with a long white beard, who rode through the sky in a sleigh pulled by eight tiny reindeer? No sudden appearance down the chimney to bring lots and lots of toys and gifts to good little girls and boys?

Some people recall this exploded myth with sadness--they feel they lost the mystery and magic of a generous saint.

Other folks, decades later, still cling to the anger they felt--they'd been lied to, betrayed, led to believe one thing, then the rug was whipped out from under them; they lost faith in those who had told them the story in the first place and then whisked it away.

You might like to search for the letter written to The New York Sun in 1897, in which a little girl named Virginia O'Hanlon asked the editor if there really was a Santa Claus. Just type in yes virginia there is a santa claus.

We all have myths and stories we've enjoyed, needed, and even, perhaps, still cling to.

-----
Another one was dramatized for me when I taught freshman composition. We were nearing the end of the first semester, heading into December. We'd read an essay appropriate for the holidays soon to be celebrated.

My class of 22 included students ages 18 to over 50. Not quite a bell curve, there being more in the 18-28 age range. But one woman was 50-something; she saw the world through a different lens. I anticipated a lively discussion.

The Christmas Eve activities shared by most students included school plays and concerts,  church pageants, family trips to visit grandparents. Pretty much a broad spectrum of what scholars call The Golden Age--that time that "always was, and never is." We recall the good things, we relate to the happy times from movies or television programs. We lump our childhood Christmases together and declare we "always had a happy Christmas time."

My next question to the class was, "What are you going to do this Christmas Eve?"

"Go to church." 
"Go to a party." 
"Open presents." 
"Have a big family dinner."

Then my 50-something student spoke up. She wouldn't be celebrating, not because she wasn't religious or had anything against Christmas. She was unmarried. Had no children or other relatives. She found Christmas Eve the loneliest time of the year. 

The room grew suddenly, unexpectedly, silent. 

-----
For most of the younger students, it was like learning Santa Claus was just a fun kids' story.

Christmas Eve was supposed to be a magical time. Presents under the tree! Big dinner with lots of food and wine! Lights and noise and action, the bigger the better!

This woman, twice their age, had injected Reality--a different kind of reality--into their world. Having no children or other family, her friends couldn't relate to her situation. And she couldn't relate to the magic and hoop-la described by the younger students.

-----
I'm not against myths. As an art form, the myth often expresses or illustrates truth. 

Santa Claus represents all that is good and generous. He is, in popular culture, St. Nicholas, a bishop of the church, who actually existed. Here is a portion of what is written about the good saint on the website franciscanmedia.org:

Perhaps the best-known story about Nicholas concerns his charity toward a poor man who was unable to provide dowries for his three daughters of marriageable age. Rather than see them forced into prostitution, Nicholas secretly tossed a bag of gold through the poor man’s window on three separate occasions, thus enabling the daughters to be married. Over the centuries, this particular legend evolved into the custom of gift-giving on the saint’s feast. In the English-speaking countries, Saint Nicholas became, by a twist of the tongue, Santa Claus—further expanding the example of generosity portrayed by this holy bishop.

-----
The myth of a universally happy Christmas Eve is not bad, or destructive. It may be the only light in a dark existence. (You might want to reread, or watch, Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol for reference.) 

Myth points to truth. Hang onto that.

-----
And one happy ending to the Santa Claus story is told by my friend Jan. When she learned Santa Claus wasn't real, she was extremely hurt. Her dad told her, "Santa Claus lives, in the hearts of little children everywhere."

Saint Nicholas

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

May your day be filled with the love and warmth of family and friends together.

May your bodies be blessed with food that nourishes and comforts.

May your lives live out the gratitude on this special day of thanks.

WORDS TO LIVE BY


[I'm reposting because I spent a large part of the past two weeks getting little accomplished--part was due to flu, part to having workmen in the house replacing entry doors. After such extraordinary times, I needed a spiritual reset. Hope you enjoy this reminder from Mother Teresa.]

-----

The verses below reportedly were written on the wall of Mother Teresa's home for children in Calcutta, India, and are widely attributed to her.

Some sources say that the words below were written on the wall in Mother Teresa's own room.  In any case, their association with Mother Teresa and the Missionaries of Charity has made them popular worldwide, expressing as they do, the spirit in which they lived their lives.

They seem to be based on a composition originally by Kent Keith, but much of the second half has been re-written in a more spiritual way.  

----from prayerfoundation.org

QUICK INSPIRATIONS

People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered; forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, there may be jealousy; be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough; give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God; it was never between you and them anyway.

[This version attributed to Mother Theresa.]

-----
A hard copy of the above inspirations has resided on my kitchen bulletin board for years. From time to time I see it, half-covered by photos of my great-grandchildren, and I am reminded that there is a reason for me to endure what must be endured, to try to help where I can, and to continue to live and give and be. The last line says it all.

Have a blessed week.

Your what hurts?

I am now nursing a sore back--the kind that causes me to walk bent over so I'm looking directly to the floor. Nothing much of interest down there on the floor, unless you consider dust bunnies and debris left by the workers (still here) and bits of fabric and thread that escaped from the sewing area.

Before you ask--I don't know what I did, or didn't do, or how I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time to end up with this malady.

(My grandmother would probably have said it was meanness coming out. Not that I was mean, that was just her way of saying, "these things happen." I think. I hope.)

Today marks the sixth day of this ongoing disability. I am not good with ill health. Nor with the inability to do my normal things. I have little patience for sick folks (just ask my kids), and even less with myself. A sore back isn't sick, for heaven's sake, more of a major annoyance.

-----
Naturally, given that I'm not 100% on top of things, this is the week for stuff to happen.

- my guys came to install new entry doors, with storm doors, on the three sides of my house where ingress and egress occurs. This is a several day process.

- I have two noontime knitting sessions with a friend; one has already been cancelled.

- yesterday was haircut day--rescheduled for the following week.

- I was two days late in getting the hymn list to the church office for next Sunday's bulletin.

- I wrote checks to pay bills, then missed the mailman's visit.

- extra-cold weather for the past and future few days dampened my interest in going anywhere--grocery store, post office drive-up box, church for my weekly sewing for the NICU babies.

-----

In the meantime, I leave you with some of the life lessons I learned (or maybe, relearned):


- Some people want to help--you just have to let them know. One of the guys who is installing doors (he's also the owner of the business) was on his way to Home Depot and asked if there was anything he could do for me. Could he stop by the Post Office and drop my bill payments in the box? He could.

- Most people will forgive you for not showing up--just make sure you tell them it's going to happen. (That's if you're not involved in an emergency. You know what I mean.) They have plans, too.

- Ask yourself (this is an oldie but a goodie)--what's the worst thing that can happen if you don't do your part? Only you can really answer that, but I figure the worst thing that can happen in my life is that people will realize that I'm human, not a machine, and therefore not 100% reliable. I'll do my share when, and if, I can; sometimes I'll go the extra mile. But--like all my fellow human beings, body parts wear out, just when you least expect them to.

-----

My back is improving, slowly, so by next week's installment of Thursday's Child I should be done with grunting, groaning, and whimpering. Or maybe not . . . I may get used to being pampered. (Assuming pampering comes along.)

Take care of yourself--and if you are visited by indisposition or infirmity, do your best to get through it with your sense of humor intact. Funny movies help. Also sentimental ones--I've already watched White Christmas because it snowed a few days ago (three inches of the stuff). Talk to people, surf the 'web, read a book you've always wanted to read (or re-read). And smile!

Talk to you soon!

Couldn't resist sharing this one

BLESSINGS - INCOMING

Remember Bing Crosby's song in White Christmas?

     "When I'm worried, and I can't sleep,
     I count my blessings, instead of sheep,
     and I fall asleep, counting my blessings."

Yes, it's a little early for Bing & Co. But it's never too early--nor too late--to count one's blessings. Here are some of mine:

1-5: a home of my own; family who keep in touch (we have so many ways to make contact); friends and acquaintances who keep me social; neighbors who keep me from thinking my way is the only right way to live; and good people who work on my house, attend to my yard, and wait on me when I do my shopping.

6-9: living in a small town that cares about its citizens; and a country that allows me the freedom to vote as I see fit; freedom to worship in public; choices when I visit shops. 

10-15: a free public library that provides books, movies, recordings, as well as digital services, public programs, and art exhibits. 

16-18: good health; if health breaks down, many opportunities for treatment in my community; good medical personnel, in many specialties; a YMCA with fitness equipment, walking/running tracks, and fitness programs for individual or group work. 

19-20: opportunities to serve others; places to share joy through music and the written word.

-----
When I started this post, I realized it could easily get out of hand. The above list could go on and on and on . . . one blessing recalls another, and then another. Sometimes they're right in front of my face. Sometimes they're completely visible, but I'm looking the other way. 

You don't have to make a list to count your blessings. Just think of three or four ways you know you are blessed. Before you realize it, you'll go far beyond those three or four.

Have a blessed week!

LIGHT

Erasmus - 15th Century Dutch Christian
humanist and scholar

[We're back to the subject of Light vs. Dark, as in the end of "daylight" time and return to "standard" time. When I read this post published a year ago, I couldn't think of anything more to add to the topic. I even enjoyed reading it again . . . hope you do, too.]

Three more days . . . and we're going to "gain an hour" by setting our clocks back before we go to bed. Or, if we're lucky enough to have current technology ticking away our minutes and hours, our atomic clocks, cell phones, and computers will do the changing for us.

That's all I'm going to say about going back to Standard Time.

And the only reason I bring it up at all is that for a little while, maybe a couple of weeks, we'll have sunrise in my neck of the woods around 7:00 AM.

Which  means, in case you're not already asleep from this convoluted intro, that we will have a little more light in the morning, and not so much at night.

-----
Light, as a topic of interest, has intrigued me for a long time.

Who among us can say we've never--never--felt we were stumbling around in the dark?

It doesn't have to be literal darkness--power goes off, or light bulb burns out, or we're out camping and the only light is the campfire, so don't go wandering off to the latrine unless you have a flashlight.

Darkness can be metaphorical--we simply can't see/understand/perceive a way out of our dilemma. We often need someone to guide us back to the light.

Edith Wharton - American Author - 1862-1937

At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us. 

     Albert Schweitzer

The flip side of that metaphor is that each of us becomes the guide.

A smile is the light in your window that tells others that there is a caring, sharing person inside. 

     Denis Waitley

-----

I've never been a good traveler--going into the unknown was, and is, 'way beyond my comfort zone. (Pretty much everything is outside my comfort zone, but that's a story for another day.)

Anyway, when I found the above quotation from Christopher Columbus, who, in the 15th Century made numerous explorations by sea far from his homeland of Italy, I recognized in those eleven words a profound statement: We followed the sun, we left our home. But the important part is this: They followed the light of the sun. They didn't sail off into darkness. They may not have known exactly where they were going, but they followed the light.

I find that thought comforting.

-----

Francis Bacon - English - 1561-1626

At first this would seem to be a Duh statement--but when Francis Bacon wrote it in his century, it held great truth: We recognize light only when we also know the darkness is there. It's the contrast that determines the brightness of the light.

And you don't have to be a creationist to understand that God brought light into being and separated it from the darkness--day and night.


Ursula K. LeGuin, an American author, expressed it this way:

American novelist - 1929-2018

Artists, especially painters, know the value of light and shadow. In fact, many painters make small "value studies" to indicate where color changes from light to dark.


May your days be filled with light.

GIVE ME PATIENCE . . .

The rest of that little petition goes, "and give it to me NOW!"

Last week's post about wishing for autumn colors to fill my world reminded me that I could do with a good dose of Patience. Capsule, liquid, painted on . . . whatever works, the faster, the better.

I'm happy to report the trees are getting into their autumnal clothing, and more and more of them are dressed in every color on the wheel, except blue--that's in the sky. (October-blue ought to be a crayon in the big box.) And I have to admit, my very public whine last week had very little to do with autumn colors appearing.

-----
Let's talk about Patience--that's a virtue, right? As children, we were encouraged (in various tones of voice) to just be patient--Santa is coming, school is almost over, your birthday is nearly here . . . . Then we had to endure adolescence and its endless waiting--for school to be over for good, to be old enough to drive (or drink alcohol), to find the one person we wanted to spend our life with, to find a job and make a lot of money. (We did dream big, didn't we?)

There was the long, long, looooooong wait for a baby to be born. (Did anyone ever discover why nine months is so much longer than a year?) 

Adult waiting-with-patience seems to lurk around every corner of life. Patience while the children grow and explore and discover and nearly get themselves in deep do-do, or hot water. Patience while a spouse goes through a life crisis--family problems, health issues, job concerns. 

Everybody has had to wait in line for something or other--at the bank, the pharmacy, the movie theater. Somebody always has advice about how to endure such waiting--nowadays, it seems everybody just glues to the phone and reads texts or sends messages. (However, some of the big stores now offer us self-checkout; beats waiting in line, huh?)

Then there's Patience with oneself during times of doubt and worry and discouragement. Will this ever end, we ask? Am I doomed to live like this until I finally wither on the vine? Will the workout program or the yoga ever make a difference?

-----
Have you ever watched a fisherman with a line in the water? (I never had the patience to wait for a bite.)

Or how about a kid watching the cookies bake through the glass door in the oven? 

And then there's the teddy bear or blankie running through the wash and dry cycles . . . . Charles Schulz got a lot of mileage out of Linus and his anxiety over the blankie in the dryer.

Most of us experience a modicum of impatience while waiting for the latest update to load on our phones or computers. 

Gardeners are among the most patient people I know--my family has two avid gardeners. They till the soil, plant (and sometimes replant more than once when rain torrents down and washes everything away), water the plants in dry times, weed, chase critters and birds away--all in the expectation of crops to can and freeze and preserve when summer's waning. Their patience is rewarded--I can attest to the delicious results--and many of us receive jars of homegrown food for Christmas gifts.


-----
Yes, Patience exists. I've had it (fleetingly) throughout my life. Now that I'm slower of foot and possibly even kinder of thought, I find Patience easier to access. 

The big challenge now is to discover how to slow down the clock so we can enjoy the waiting. I can be patient, I promise. But really--only two months till Christmas?!

WISHING . . .

Not my house...but definitely "my" tree

Today is October 17th, on the downhill slide to the end of the month. And I'm wishing for autumn colors. Outside my big window I see nothing but green--lots of different shades and tints, but still, green.

A couple of my favorite trees in town have made a half-hearted attempt to color up. Half-hearted, I say, because there's a small area of colored leaves, and the rest, about 85%, still green.

Leaf color, I've read, comes about because of a couple of factors: (1) less light as autumn days "grow shorter," and (2) changes in temperature. Chlorophyll breaks down and the leaves stop the food-making process. Ergo, less green, more red/orange/yellow.

Okay, so I get up in the dark, and I go to bed in the dark. Sometimes I eat supper while the sky changes from day to night. I can attest to less light. Temperature? Our highs are ranging from 49 to 70 during the next 10 days. We certainly have changes, but consistently lower temps haven't found their way to my neck of the woods.

Looks like I'll be wishing for leaf color for a while yet.

Clearly, wishing for the leaves to turn their autumn colors is not going to have much effect. I can wish with all my might, pray without ceasing, and do any happy dance I can contrive--won't affect the leaves at all. (Magic wands don't work for me, either.)

-----
A better use of my time might be sending "good wishes" to folks who need support or encouragement. Notes, emails, texts,  phone calls . . . . And there's always prayer time to petition for good results, happy events.

Or offering up gratitude for blessings I enjoy--especially the ones I didn't work for or earn. Maybe that's the best definition of a blessing--a benefit unsought; a grace bestowed.

-----
As a much younger person, I know I wished for things--material goods, what I wanted to take place, a sudden bodily makeover (never did get taller, no matter how much I wished). 

Sometime along the way, the obvious began to sink in--if I wanted something a lot, I ought to throw away my magic lamp and think about working for it. Earn the money to buy the material goods--a house or car, clothing appropriate to my job; consider the event I wanted to happen to see if it really was a good thing for me--did I really want to be a best-selling author, devoting time to publicizing my book? As for the makeover, I (wisely) gave up on that one; I can affect my strength and stamina, even find a hair style that isn't too weird for my age and stage in life, but the only way I'll be taller is to go back to wearing three-inch heels. My feet tell me that's out of the question. (I always listen to my feet.)

-----
There's an old saying: "If wishes were horses, then peasants would ride." The occasion it was used would often be to a child who "wished" for something.

So, what's the point of wishing, you ask?

Maybe wishing is related to vision--seeing possibilities in the future. Perhaps encouraging ourselves to try something different.

Maybe it's also related to hope--we keep hope alive, until it becomes clear that what we wished for, what we hoped for, isn't going to become fact. (The important part is that we continue to hope.) And we can learn something about ourselves--an important life lesson.

The best lesson--the one that stays with me always--is that what I wish for may not be the best thing for me; but what I get, is always the best. Thanks be.

WHERE DO YOU FIND WISDOM?

[It's been a manic week...and more to come in the near future. So I thought a little rereading might provide us with a chance to catch our breath and ponder on wisdom learned in our youth.]

Sometimes Wisdom arrives unexpectedly. A chance remark by a stranger . . . an old saying pops into mind . . . a half-remembered quotation that I have to look up to get the proper wording.

Many folks go to the Bible for words to live by. They have favorite verses, favorite psalms committed to memory; or perhaps favorite hymns from their worship services. These bring comfort in times of distress or sadness. Brick-and-mortar bookstores have shelves sagging from the weight of such books—whatever direction your faith has taken you, there’ll be something for you to read if you want to. Or try the public library, or the library of your faith community.

-----

Then there’s the Wisdom—or what passed for Wisdom—that we grew up with. Such as:

Waste not, want not!  How often did we hear that one in our youth? Folks who grew up in the Depression  (roughly, 1929 to 1941) would understand this one all too well. And they passed along the message to their children.

A penny saved is a penny earned. Well, not really, not in today’s financial climate; but there’s no denying, a penny saved is a penny saved.

See a pin, pick it up, All the day you’ll have good luck. Offering us good luck was one way to keep pins off the floor where little kids and pets might come to harm. Or barefoot adults. A good reminder for safety. And the corollary worked the same way: See a pin and let it lay, Bad luck you’ll have all the day.

If your nose itches, company’s coming. This was one of several dozen my mother quoted—if it wasn’t an itchy nose, it was dropping silverware, each type indicating the gender of the company to come. Later on I heard it another way: If your nose itches, you’re going to kiss a fool! Hmm, not a very exciting prospect. I’d prefer company coming.

My mother also told me about itchy hands—and to this day, I can’t get this one out of my head. If your left hand itches, you’re going to receive money. (Yay!) If your right hand itches, you’re going to shake hands with somebody. (Meet someone new.)

Another one about money: Foam on the top of a cup of coffee or tea was called “Money on your cup.” (I don’t think this includes cappuccino, though. Just bubbles that form when you pour the liquid into the cup. Sorry about that.)

-----

Some sayings had honest-to-goodness sense behind them. 

Take this one: As the twig is bent, so grows the tree. That was about more than bending your young tree into an interesting shape; it was meant to warn us how to rear our children (twigs) is such a way that they would grow up into the type of adults (trees) we would like them to be.

Or, The apple never falls far from the tree. Seems obvious, if you’ve ever had/seen an apple tree. After all, the tree doesn’t fling the apples around, even in a windstorm, and the fruit is heavy enough to fall pretty much under the tree it grew on. This was another metaphorical piece of wisdom: Don’t expect your children to be much different from the parents. (I seem to recall the children so described were usually budding delinquents.) In the Nature vs. Nurture debate, this one seems to straddle the fence.

-----

From what I’ve observed, what we glean from old sayings, proverbs, and family wisdom depends on our family’s history and experience. We were pretty much Midwestern agrarian—hence the practical nature of the quick pieces of advice I learned from childhood on up.

Dig around in your memory bank for those words to live by that your family treasured. Bet you haven’t heard them recently. But they’ll still resonate with you.

If you don’t think they’re especially wise, see if you can file them under Advice. Or Insight. Or, Old Sayings.

-----

Here’s my current favorite saying (on a whiteboard at the Y)—hope it says something good to you:

YOUR SPEED DOESN’T MATTER…FORWARD IS FORWARD.