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Personal Reflection: A Silent World

Today I read the inspiring words at the left posted on facebook by Kathleen Reeser Hill. How true are these words! I read it over and over again thinking of our daughter, Nicole, and the persecution she faced in growing up, especially during her middle school years. I would like to share a little of Her Story.

When Nicole was born on March 28, 1981, I was overjoyed for I so much wanted a daughter. A son had already blessed our family two years earlier but two miscarriages destined us to seemingly having only the one child.

When the miracle happened, never did I envision how the new life set before me would be the beginning of overwhelming challenges for both of us. Hers was not an easy birth and she entered the world at 9 lbs 13 ozs already with determination written all over her face. She was not one of these babies born with a headfull of hair but only a tiny tuff on the top of her head. I was so excited wanting everyone to know the long awaited daughter had finally arrived that I scotch taped a tiny pink ribbon to that tiny tuff!

Being around the children more than their father placed me in the situation where I almost felt like their only caretaker and sometimes instances would go unnoticed, not from neglect by any means, but simply from being a working Mother and trying to keep the household together. It was on a weekend when my parents were visiting that my dad questioned whether Nicole could hear. She was eighteen months old, and that day was the beginning of a totally unforeseen ending ahead…

A trip to Children’s Hospital in Birmingham, AL and many tests, tests, tests later confirmed that she was 80% deaf. The doctor was so rude he told us she would never hear well enough to amount to anything in society. Then, to top that off her father insisted she could NOT be his child because she was ‘imperfect’. Can you imagine what went through my heart, mind and soul on that day?!. This was our daughter, a gift from God!

Nicole – 3 yrs old

The next couple of years were unimaginable. She was easily agitated, totally frustrated as she tried to understand the world around her and communicate her wants, needs and feelings. Temper tantrums would result in such unruliness that her father would walk out demanding, “That is YOUR daughter, YOU deal with it!” A lot transpired within that time span which led to. . .well, doing exactly that, I dealt with it…without him. He came home one too many times to a dinner table set for four to only brush us aside and say HE was going out for dinner.

The kids and I moved out and on. Then, I met Jim who was soon to become the Dad she had never had: The man in her life that would not give in nor give up on her, the one who would work with her day in, day out making sure she listened. Yes! I do mean listen. She was first aided with over the ear hearing aids connected to chest packs that brought her hearing within 80% capacity. Remember, in the beginning, she was diagnosed as 80% deaf which allowed for only 20% hearing. [I can recall the embroidered designs on little vest pockets where ‘eyes’ of various animals became the holes for the microphones of the hearing aids. These have long been replaced with ones so tiny you don’t even notice she is wearing them.]

There are stories upon stories about her hearing aids – the time she became so frustrated she buried them in the sandbox at daycare, the time they were retrieved from the garbage can, the time the dog chewed them up, the numerous times they just simply went missing, etc. Then, there was the turmoil that churned on the inside that she dealt with on a daily basis and the persecution beyond words from her peers whose cruelty was unfathomable. She excelled, however, at all grade levels even being admitted to an advanced program in high school only to forfeit that status in the second semester of her senior year in order to transfer to a different school.

None of that feigned her determination. She beat them all! She went on to receive her Associate’s Degree from Santa Fe Community College in Gainsville, FL, then on to the University of Florida (GO Gators!) where she received her BS Degree in Marketing. Now she is working on her Masters, but has ventured into Financial Analysis with aspirations of obtaining her Doctorate. And this is a child who was born 80% deaf, told by a doctor that she would never amount to anything, rejected by her father BUT has already accomplished more than most of her high school classmates! And, she will tell you very quickly she has the best Daddy in the whole world!

John and Nicole Reina

She is married and has two beautiful daughters, Natalie and Catalina, both of whom at birth passed Florida’s mandatory hearing test!

To Nicole and all those whose world might be on the quiet side. . .

A Silent World

I called and called your name
Why didn’t you answer?
You were so close—
A vision of loveliness

Your wonderful smile
Upon a laughing face
Concealed a lonely place—
A world of silence

Over and over the same refrain
Thinking I was just ignored
Irritated and exhausted—
A game of annoyance

Suddenly becoming perfectly clear
After I called louder and louder
Heartache and tears revealed—
A moment of sadness

Through the years of special care
Hours and hours, frustration and tears
Overjoyed with anticipation—
A day of hope

Confirmation finally came
No longer a silent world
You turned and smiled
When I called your name

When you call someone’s name
Why don’t they answer?
Think before you repeat
Theirs may be a silent world

©2004
Sharla Lee Shults

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To my husband – Happy Anniversary!

Celebrating 28 years together!

 

At Heaven’s Door

 

The doors of Heaven opened

The day you came into my life

At our eyes’ first meeting

Divine intervention touched my soul

 

What once were dreams and aspirations

Transpired into fearless reality

Conscious reasoning gave way to inner feelings

Our encounter ensured destiny unfold

 

Love initiated in Heaven

Unconditional, without envy or self-pity

Free from illusion, secure in faith

Lays eternal in the mist

 

Two hands merged as one

One heart, one body, one spirit

Truly blessed to share life’s daily happenings

Until only memories exist

 

Our love spans the sands of time

Through the years, happiness and tears,

’Til one day we’re hand-in-hand

Standing quietly at Heaven’s door

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Inspiration: Drop a Stitch

OOPS! I dropped a stitch!

Knit one, pearl two, knit one, pearl two. . . brings to mind the ol’ nursery rhyme “He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not” because of its repetition. The Decision of the Flower results in either “yea” or “nay” with perhaps dropping an un-named petal along the way to alter its destined outcome. The knitter faces a similar fate, “keep it” or “leave it”, dependent upon whether too many stitches have been dropped in the process.

Every “petal plucker” and “kicker knitter” drops stitches. C’st la vie! The stitches of each rely on the rhythm of the moment. If you stop paying attention, even for a second, suddenly you’ve lost track of whether it is true love or not, OR a loop has slipped off the needle going unnoticed. Too much delay and you might end up completely fumbling the nursey rhyme or in the case of the knitter, continuing to knit several rows before you see the tell-tale ladders of yarn filling the gap where the stitch initially dropped.

Are you in sync? What is your Rhythm of the Day?

 

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Inspiration: Red Wigglers?

[After reading this post, be sure to go to . . .echoes of the past. . . and read the poem
papa, mr. catfish and me!

Oh, I can just hear you now! WORMS! UGH! You shiver and squimishly shy away! But, WAIT! Don’t be in such a rush; there is actually a good reflection going on here. I do believe the reason this hit me last night is because throughout the entire day yesterday, my dad was heavy on my mind.

What a great man! He loved the out of doors and was his happiest either fishing on Lake Seminole or playing golf. He was also an avid hunter but that seemed to be put aside as he approached his senior senior years. How I loved the times he would take me fishing! The day before we would go digging for worms and set out early the next morning for the lake with his fishing boat in tow. No fancy rods and reels, just simple cane poles and the red wigglers for bait. He let me know right away he would not be baiting the hook for me. No, sir! He said he would have enough to do to keep his own pole baited and in the water.

There are no pictures of us in the family album but this is a very good replica of Daddy’s fishing boat. Could not find a photo of Daddy/daughter fishing!

Once on the water we road around and in a short while stopped at one of Daddy’s favorite fishing ‘holes’. With poles in hand, the first task at hand was baiting the hooks. I would shut my eyes and hesitantly dip my hand in the bucket coming out with a handful of squishy, wiggly worms. I would just look at them twisting and turning trying to crawl out of my hand in search of good ol’ Mother Earth. I would look over at Daddy silently hoping he would say, “OK, little girl, let me take care of that for you.” But, silence prevailed as he carefully tended to his own hook. I knew he was watching me out of the corner of his eye. Even his pipe could not hide the sly grin.

I carefully selected the prize worm and put the others back in the bucket to await their fate at a later time. Mother had already taught me how to sew so I decided I would just pretend I was threading a needle. [Not a very good analogy, I know.] Anyway, with the wiggly, swiggly worm between my fingers, I held my breath and voila managed to get it hooked without losing my breakfast. Whew!

Alas, with that done, I took a deep breath, sighed, smiled at my dad, and said, “At least the worst is over.” Oh, was I in for a surprise! With a flip of the line, the little worm hit the water, “Splash!” Dad and I sat in his fishing boat what seemed like forever but was probably no more than ten, maybe fifteen minutes. He glanced my way, asked if I was hungry and I said I would pass for the time being. After handling the worms, thoughts of eating just did not seem very appealing. Another ten, maybe fifteen minutes passed.

I squirmed, shifted in my seat, yawned (we hit the lake at dawn) and tried not to seem too bored or impatient. After all, I was nine years old and a girl for heaven’s sake. I should be home with Mother in the kitchen or playing with my baby dolls. Right? No way! I was like my dad and absolutely loved the outdoors. We both had looked forward to this day.

Of course, you know mine was no where near this big but to me it was the biggest catfish in the lake!

Then, it happened! It started with a slight tug on the end of the line. The tiny cork began to bobble up and down in the water, disappear and reappear within a matter of seconds. Daddy laid his pole aside and gently put his arm across my shoulder. The pole began to bend and I just knew it was going to break as it curved into a half moon. With a quick jerk, Daddy set the hook and helped me bring in the grandest catfish I had ever seen! I squealed with smiles and giggles as most girls do and wanted to jump up and down but remembered we were in the boat. That would have to wait until we were ashore. I was so excited but all I could do was simply stare at this huge fish with a half-eaten worm dangling from its mouth who appeared to be staring right back at me.

Oh, do you remember a little while ago my mentioning I was in for a surprise when I thought the worse was over? Have you figured that out yet? Yep, the next step was getting the fish OFF the hook. Of course, Daddy would not let me do that by myself since I was a novice and he did not want me to get finned. But I was required to watch diligently so I could learn the perfect technique for later fishing trips. With that task out of the way, we continued fishing for awhile, catching a few more catfish, and decided to end the trip with a ride around the lake.

After a few hours, we returned to shore, Daddy loaded the boat on the trailer and we headed for home. We talked about the fishing trip and how there would be more times like this one. I could not wait to get home and tell Mama about MY fish. That would come later, much later, for little did I know at the time that first the fish had to be CLEANED!

My daddy, Chester C. Lee, on the left and my uncle Carroll on the right

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Inspiration: Solitude

the nightingale glides across a twilight sky

a symbol of love and longing in flight

it exhales in a melodious love song

shattering the solitude of the night

~catnipoflife

Since ancient times birds have been considered a connection between heaven and earth. They are known to reach deep into the heart and the soul through symbolism and spirituality. For some cultures, their symbolism is one of immortality, while some myths declare every bird in the world representative of a departed soul. Birds have been immortalized in art throughout the world and in Christian art, birds often appear as saved souls. They also provide inspiration for remarkable stories written in both prose and poetic meter offering time for solitude within deep repose.

How many different birds can you match with their key word significance? Here are just a few. . .

The most renown bird in America is, of course, the  Bald Eagle. As our national bird, it bestows freedom and courage to look ahead being forever watchful. It signifies strength while conveying powers and messages of the spirit. Special significance is placed upon the Eagle and its feathers by Native American Indians often becoming an iconic symbol and tribal logo.

The eagle or one of these below just might be your inspiration for tomorrow. . .

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The Buzzard, the Bat & the Bumble Bee

If you put a BUZZARD
in a pen 6 feet by 8 feet
entirely open at the top,
the bird, in spite of its ability to fly,
will be an absolute prisoner.

The reason is that a buzzard always
begins a flight from the ground
with a run of 10 to 12 feet.

Without space to run, as is its habit,
it will not even attempt to fly,
but will remain a prisoner for life
in a small jail with no top.

******************

The ordinary BAT
that flies around at night,
a remarkable nimble creature in the air,
cannot take off from a level place.

If it is placed on the floor or flat ground,
all it can do is shuffle about helplessly
and, no doubt, painfully,
until it reaches some slight elevation
from which it can throw itself into the air.

Then, at once, it takes off like a flash.

******************

The BUMBLE BEE,
if dropped into an open tumbler,
will be there until it dies,
unless it is taken out.

It never sees the means
of escape at the top,
but persisits in trying
to find some way out
through the sides
near the bottom.

It will seek a way where none exists,
until it completely destroys itself.

******************

In many ways, we PEOPLE are like
the BUZZARD, the BAT, and
the BUMBLE BEE.

We struggle about with all
our problems and frustrations,
never realizing
that all we have to do
is look up!

That’s the answer,
the escape route,
the solution
to any problem. . .

JUST LOOK UP!

******************

Sorrow looks back,
Worry looks around,
But faith looks up!

Live simply,
love generously,
care deeply,
speak kindly, and
trust in our Creator,
who loves US!

Share this with friends. . .I just did!

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Reflection Upon the Water

In water, one sees one’s own face but reflection goes much deeper than simply looking upon the water’s surface. Have you ever thought about the depth of that reflection? How deep does your reflection go, physically and spiritually . . . into the heart, mind, body, soul? Beyond the depths of imagination, into optical illusion, can one experience reflection upon the water.

The mind is a gallery of reflection: Open it through life-changing lens. ~catnipoflife

When you look upon the water, what do you see?

“The brightest light moving away from us, unless it be reflected, is darkness to us.” ~Author Unknown


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Spirit of the Ladybug

Whether you call them ladybugs, ladybirds, or lady beetles, what is it about this ‘bug’ that so lovingly captures our attention? After all, it is an insect! Oh, my, yes, but what an adorable little insect that can lovingly tickle the palm of our hand or lightly rest on your arm! Let’s take a closer look at this phenomenal tiny creature and its impact on life.

Did you know this tiny beetle is an emblem of good luck, links to spiritual ideals and carries a powerful message? With its tiny, short legs, transparent wings and brightly colored black, yellow or reddish markings, the ladybug fascinates us with her delicate and loving nature.

LADYBUGS

A Ladybug’s appearance often signals new happiness and a renewed sense of well being, worries will fade and higher goals will be attained. Some say if you count the spots on a ladybug they correspond with the number of wishes and gifts that will come to you in the future but take warning, hurt a ladybug and the spots show how many misfortunes await you. Ladybugs remind us there will always be opportunities to pursue and capture our dreams.

INSPIRATION

Inspiration for this post came in an email notification from Inspiration Import ~ Art & Words – Spirit & Soul – Create & Creations. What messages have you received from the ladybug? What stories do you have to share about the ladybug and how she touched your life?

*************************************

 

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Personal Reflection: The Teardrop

hospitalteddybearWhen a loved one is ‘out of sorts’ so to speak, all energies go toward making that one special person feel as comfortable as possible – spiritually, mentally, physically and emotionally. While endeavoring to meet all of the daily demands and maintain sanity, thoughts of one’s self seem to somehow become insignificant yet that ability to sustain self does not go unnoticed.

This hit me right between the eyes during my stay in the hospital with my husband. He had already been in our small town hospital for almost a week. The chair that did pull out into a small cot offered little or no comfort other than providing me the time and place to be beside him during his most uncomfortable and painful moments. Then, he was transported to a different hospital and to both our surprise was placed in CCU. Of couse, that meant no cot for the night! Thus, the 80-mile round trip landed me home well after midnight. Fortunately, the next day he was transferred to a private room. Problem was it was a very small room and they had to bring in a recliner for him to sleep since he could not lie in the bed account of breathing issues. Therefore, another 80-mile round trip was in the making.

It was the following morning that weakened my knees and brought tears to my eyes. Upon arriving in his room, he commenced to tell me this story. Remember, he is very weak and his mental faculties are not in perfect order because of so much trauma.

dozenroses

“Sweetheart,” he said, ” I tried my best to have roses in the room for you. I wanted them here as soon as you arrived. The nurse just would not cooperate.”

“Roses? For me?” I said quizzically. “I should be sending you flowers. You are the one in the hospital. Don’t be silly,” I smiled.

“No, you don’t understand. I wanted YOU to have the roses for all you have done to take care of me. You are the deserving one, not me,” he replied in a very serious tone. “I asked the nurse to call a taxi and have the driver come up to the room. I was going to ask him to go to the florist and come back with a dozen roses. She laughed at me and said that was against hospital policy. I argued, she won and walked out,” he said poutingly.

I gently kissed him as a teardrop fell softly on his cheek.

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