As I have been prompted by some of my friends, I am updating my blog. What can I say, I have been busy. Only 2 weeks till my semester ends and the holidays are over (Yeah!!!) so I may find time to take down the tree. We have all enjoyed the Christmas break here at our house.
I actually read a great story the other day which gave me hope so I will share... it is from a 1959 Relief Society Magazine that I found among my grandmas things.
The Pansy Picker. by Vernessa M Nagle.
In our little town we have a Mary and a Martha. But what town doesn't have? From each I have garnered wisdom, a degree of tolerance and patience , lessons in community service, teachings of the gospel and from one a smattering of humor.
Our Martha is efficiency personified. She prides herself on the whiteness of her wash. Hers is the first to appear on the clothesline come Monday morning. Her home is immaculate; her children attired with perfection of detail. She is neighborly and kind, but occasionally a bit critical of the less efficient. Yet her disciplined mode of life does not get in the way of her thoughtfulness in time of sorrow and her awareness of the unfortunate about her..
Our Mary has been known to hang wash on the line at the most unorthodox hour. Her home shows signs of family living, but there is a solidarity of them that is heart-warming. She was once discovered, to her mortification, by Martha, sitting on the floor of her living room, sans dignity, sans dishes washed, cutting out paper dolls with her young family, whose ecstasy in the experience was little affected by the intrusion.
Her tolerance with the erring one is so worthy of emulation and her personality so comfortable that she is compelled to listen to neighborhood woes, when she actually should, according to local codes, be laundering the dusting cloth.
When Martha recently suggested to Mary, rather pointedly, that her sheets would appear more attractive on the line if they were stretched a bit more uniformly, Mary smiled apologetically, remarking in her sweet, confident way, "I suppose I really am a trifle absent-minded this morning, for after I had hung my last sheet on the line, I dawdled a bit. You see, I stopped to pick a pansy."
We need more pansy pickers in today's society to slow down the tempo of our hectic living. Beauty lies close to home.
I actually read a great story the other day which gave me hope so I will share... it is from a 1959 Relief Society Magazine that I found among my grandmas things.
The Pansy Picker. by Vernessa M Nagle.
In our little town we have a Mary and a Martha. But what town doesn't have? From each I have garnered wisdom, a degree of tolerance and patience , lessons in community service, teachings of the gospel and from one a smattering of humor.
Our Martha is efficiency personified. She prides herself on the whiteness of her wash. Hers is the first to appear on the clothesline come Monday morning. Her home is immaculate; her children attired with perfection of detail. She is neighborly and kind, but occasionally a bit critical of the less efficient. Yet her disciplined mode of life does not get in the way of her thoughtfulness in time of sorrow and her awareness of the unfortunate about her..
Our Mary has been known to hang wash on the line at the most unorthodox hour. Her home shows signs of family living, but there is a solidarity of them that is heart-warming. She was once discovered, to her mortification, by Martha, sitting on the floor of her living room, sans dignity, sans dishes washed, cutting out paper dolls with her young family, whose ecstasy in the experience was little affected by the intrusion.
Her tolerance with the erring one is so worthy of emulation and her personality so comfortable that she is compelled to listen to neighborhood woes, when she actually should, according to local codes, be laundering the dusting cloth.
When Martha recently suggested to Mary, rather pointedly, that her sheets would appear more attractive on the line if they were stretched a bit more uniformly, Mary smiled apologetically, remarking in her sweet, confident way, "I suppose I really am a trifle absent-minded this morning, for after I had hung my last sheet on the line, I dawdled a bit. You see, I stopped to pick a pansy."
We need more pansy pickers in today's society to slow down the tempo of our hectic living. Beauty lies close to home.
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