GENERATIONAL BLESSINGS

 

November 26, 2020

GENERATIONAL BLESSINGS

I have alluded to BLESSINGS on a few occasions over the years, but this year warrants special attention.  Four generations of our family gathered for the opening of the 2020 Deer Gun Season.

Grandpa (Earl) Hill, son Kevin Hill, Grandson Andrew Krueger and Great Grandson Nate Micech rounded out the four generation milestone, while Granddaughter Erika supervised the Cabin chores.  Although Covid19 obviously has cast a cloud over the Season, the blessings of such an occasion and the promise of many more to come makes everything worthwhile. It seems even the old log cabin and the wood burning stove had smiles on their faces.

THINKING NEW BUT FINDING OLD

While attempting to clean some of my old "dribble" from the laptop, I ran across my Thanksgiving prayer from 2014. It could well be these blessings may give us the strength to weather such storms as we are now experiencing with the Coronavirus.  Just thought I'd share it.

  

Thanksgiving 11/27/14 Table Prayer….

After sitting on my deer stand for a couple of hours, I thought “my toes are getting a little cold” but then I immediately thought “what am I complaining about?  It’s warmer than most years, I’m relatively comfortable, and “JUST HOW LUCKY AM I TO HAVE BEEN ABLE TO SPEND OVER 50 YEARS IN THE WOODS ON OPENING DAY OF DEER HUNTING”.  In fact, JUST WHY, EXCEPT BY THE GRACE OF GOD AND HIS GIFTS, HAVE I HAD THE GIFT OF A WONDERFUL FAMILY TO SPEND THESE MANY YEARS WITH. 

I KNOW I AM NOT WORTHY OR DESERVING OF BEING ABLE TO SIT AT A THANKSGIVING TABLE WITH FOUR GENERATIONS OF BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE AND MANY THAT CAN’T JOIN US TODAY BUT ARE HERE IN OUR HEARTS AND MINDS.  MOST PEOPLE NEVER HAVE AN OPPORTUNITY LIKE THIS, SO I THANK GOD FOR HIS GIFTS AND HIS BLESSINGS THAT HE HAS BESTOWED UPON AN UNDESERVING ME AND A VERY DESERVING FAMILY I HAVE BEEN BLESSED WITH..

THINGS NOT EVERYONE HAS DONE

There are times to work and times to relax and absorb the serenity of the cabin.  The hours spent on the deck were many and captivating.  Particularly, when in total solitude-meaning no one is around to complain about my harmonica talent (of which there is little), I will  retire to the deck and share what melody I can with the quietude of the lake.  Often as not, a soft southwesterly breeze makes its way bringing a soothing accompaniment.

On more than one occasion, I have tarried on the comfort of the deck while watching the full moon come up in the East, ply its way through the branches of pine and oaks, and settle in the West, beckoning the rising sun to bring morning twilight to awaken the new day.  All the while rummaging through my worn bag of harmonicas and remembering melodies of years gone by.  

I recall those couple of occasions as blessings, unplanned and undeserved, but blessings none the less.  I occasionally open the harmonica bag and blow on a few of the instruments and recall some of the old melodies of the past, ranging from old ballads, folk, classical or Irish.  It matters little.  The technique hasn't improved, but the memories never go away.  That's the blessing.  It's a reminder that the beauty of our existence is not regulated by the clock or the calendar.  Life's beauty is there twenty four seven, whenever we choose to turn it on.  We, ourselves, control the switch.