Hail!
Mary!
Hail! Mary! Full of grace, the
Lord is with thee
Heaven angel to virgin maiden
spoke enigma word quite bold
Celestial Son’s birth for sinful
man’s redemption, he foretold
Blessed art thou among women and
blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus
Announcement caused His cousin
John in the womb to leap
Un-truth purveyors shall forever
the evil whirlwind reap
Holy Mary! Dear mother of God,
please pray for us sinners
Add not nor deny My Truth, I am
the Light
Holy Word, My Way to salvation in
clear sight
Now and at the hour of our death
Communion saints with heavenly
angels pray
Revere innocents’ life, reflect
on Christmas Day
And, thanks for His miracle of
the rosary
Three in One, a dozen true
disciple men
Love each other, your brother
also is My kin
For He so loved the world He sent
His only Son
Offer heartfelt humble prayer,
His holy day be won
Amen!
Merry Christmas!
Pray the rosary! Amen!
Heaven Christmas Gift!
Our Almighty Father speaks:
“Celebrate the Glory of My Son this Day, sent man
Redeemer Savior King;
Praise God
by walking in His Light with Grace of Holy Spirit sing!” Amen!
Christmas
Presence!
Bapa! Why do you quite early each new dawn arise?
In His glorious wakeful splendor, God hinted another
great surprise
Not a fragrant pleasure rose shall I on purpose miss
This newborn chance to taste of life’s soft-sweet
promised kiss
Orange sunrise quiet pretty or awesome lightning
thunderstorm
Tranquil deer in meadow yonder leads tender spirit
to reform
“Fear Not!” Some evil veiled temptation
“Follow Me!” On narrow trace to Christian Salvation
“Love God!” His sacred Commandments clearly proclaim
“Love one another!” Seven admonish to reluctant
blame
Fresh-fallen frosty fluff revives stained soul pure
white
Begin “Rejoice!” in honor peaceful manger site
Render reverent psalm all due our Blessed Trinity
Contemplate life miracle in spirit light eternity
One tiny speck in this majestic universe surpassed
Voice Justice song in Truth prayer strident cast
Adore our living Glorious Lord, stand tall in sweet
Christ Jesus
May His Christmas Spirit Joy lovingly appease us!
Amen!
Merry
Christmas!
Christmas Peace!
Newborn babe in manger lay
Man praise God eternal day
Innocent face sweet spectacle
God’s own Son true miracle
Pure as white fresh-fallen snow
Soul renew through faith restore
Spirit journey Christmas time
Celestial insight love divine
Truthful path never waiver
Eternal light Jesus savior
Creation awesome splendor bright
Christian family loves pure Light
Humble example birthday King
On bended knee mankind bring
Illuminate joyful peaceful earth
Eternity find in Jesus’ birth
Amen!
Plus:
6 Rodeo!
Bright sunshine belied the frigid
temperature as the two men headed north and just slightly west toward the
mountain where Ole Sam resided. Desperado led easily and Bapa had no problem
bringing him along on the trail. Z. Tyler took the lead and seemed to be
thoroughly enjoying himself. Several times when he turned to check on his
grandfather’s progress with the pack horse, Bapa clearly saw a bright smile.
Always up for any new adventure; the young man reminded the senior of himself
at an earlier age. A sudden image of Nanny appeared in his mind as he completed
the thought; she would have corrected “reminded” to present tense. He had to
smile at himself, even when she was miles away, she still knew him best. He was
pleased.
Once through the woods and hills of the
farm, the terrain flattened somewhat, although still showed a steady incline
toward the mountains. The snow was thicker here and less melted; they were five
miles from home about a thousand feet higher in altitude than where they had
started. Z. Tyler pulled Applejack to a halt and waited for Bapa to catch up.
“Thought we should give the horses a
blow,” the boy said. Bapa nodded agreement.
“Yeah,” he began, “take care of your mount
and he’ll take care of you.”
Each stepped down from his saddle, slightly
loosened the cinch strap, so that the animals could relax a bit and rest. Bapa
checked the pannier on Desperado, but did not slacken its hold. To do so might
cause the heavy burden to shift; it was well-balanced and if it slipped, they
might have to completely unload their burdensome cargo and, then, repack all of
it. That was a delay Bapa wished to avoid, if possible; no point in taking
unnecessary chances.
He reached in his left side saddle bag and
withdrew the thermos of hot tea. “Better get yourself some warmth, too,” he
suggested.
Taking the old man’s advice, Z. Tyler
helped himself to his own hot drink.
“It’s colder up here and the snow is
heavier,” the boy commented.
After a swallow of the warming beverage,
he continued. “You said the wind would come up and change to the
northwest. You were sure enough right
about that. Sure doesn’t look like snow, though.” He gave the sky a glance and
noted scattered clouds and a grey front westward.
“Not yet,” Bapa acknowledged. “That
northwest breeze is a sure harbinger of it, though. Weather can change up here
in the high country about as quick as the wink of a sparrow’s eye.”
Dazzling white
teeth flashed as the boy enjoyed, in good humor, his grandfather’s quaint way
of saying things. To subtly complement Bapa’s wit, he said, “That’s pretty darn
quick! Alright!”
Z. Tyler harbored an insatiable appetite
for knowledge, asked a lot of questions whenever an opportunity to learn
something presented itself and listened intently to the answers. He found this
moment to be just such an occasion for a positive learning experience.
Returning his thermos to the leather pouch,
he inquired, “I know you can ‘smell’ snow before it comes, sometimes up to a
full day in advance. But, how did you figure out that the wind would come from
the northwest today?”
The old man gave
him a conspiratorial smile, but offered no explanation.
After replacing his insulated stainless
tea vessel in the saddle bag and tightening the girth, Bapa mounted Magic. When
Z. Tyler climbed aboard Applejack, they moved out, side by side.
The boy offered to lead the pack horse; he
was no trouble, but Bapa gratefully relinquished the duty. They were
approaching the river and, knowing the country, he would take the lead when
they got closer to Silver Falls River and take them down to Lone Pine beach.
Settling into a steady, ground eating
gait, they rode two abreast for a time.
After a slight pause to gather his
thoughts, Bapa, at last, answered the boy’s query.
“Forecasting snow is one thing,” Bapa
allowed. “I just sniff the air and I get a sense, a special kind of tingling,
in my nostrils that tells me it’s coming. I can’t really explain it any better
than that; I’ve tried to ‘teach’ it to Nanny, to our girls and to all of you
grandchildren. But, it seems to be like any talent, it apparently can’t be
learned. You can either do it, or you can’t.”
“It’s a nice talent to have,” the young
man complimented.
Bapa laughed. “Calling it ‘Talent’ may
have been a poor choice of words. But, like most of the ‘accomplishments’ in my
life, I am grateful for it and the kids sure do love that I can predict snow.
Of course, it’s handy in other, more obvious, pragmatic ways around a farm.”
“But,” the boy persisted, “how did you
know which way the wind would blow today?”
The old man gave a hearty chuckle, this
time.
“Nothing so dramatic as smelling snow, I’m
afraid. I learned it from Poppy, my grandfather.”
He paused. The boy was listening intently,
now.
“My daddy’s dad. Oh! He was quite a
character. He died when I was nine.” Bapa had a far off look in his eye, almost
as though he was somewhere else. “I sure did love that old man.”
Z. Tyler waited for his grandfather to
catch up to the present; he looked almost sad. The boy understood as he
realized that one day, he, too, would speak of his Bapa in the past tense. The
moment was a bit disconcerting while at the same time reinforcing a special friendship
bond.
Bapa shook his head as if to clear some
cobwebs, then, continued. “I went outside this morning about four. The sky was
clear and those magic pinpoints sparkled like blue-white fiery diamonds s
spread out on a fancy black velvet jeweler’s presentation tray attempting to entice some rich prospective buyer into
laying out a substantial amount of
cash to own them. They twinkled and danced such a merry rhythm.” He smiled,
mentally recalling the experience.
Patiently, the boy waited; Bapa had his
own way and tempo for telling tales.
“Poppy told me that all stars twinkle.
But, if you watch early in the morning, before dawn begins, and look straight
up, the quadrant of the sky where they dance most rapidly is the direction from
which the wind will blow that day.” He paused. “It’s that simple!” he
concluded.
Z. Tyler nodded. “And, today, they
twinkled most in the northwest sky?”
Bapa nodded. To highlight his accuracy,
adding a directed metaphoric profoundly punctuated exclamation point to the
attestation, a hardy gust of wind from the northwest blasted them. When it
passed after several seconds, they looked at one another and laughed. It seemed
as if the old man had conjured up a goddess wraith from the “Wind” clan to
underline his accurate prediction.
“Wow!” involuntarily shivered Z. Tyler,
laughing. “You sure know how to make a point.”
After another half mile, Bapa pulled up.
“Silver Falls River is just over that
rise, yonder. Snows deep here and drifted badly. You follow close behind and
I’ll lead us on down to the beach area.”
He started off in a straight line to the
point where the family camped in the summer on their overnight trips. The snow
came to Magic’s chest in a heavy drift where the upslope from the river crested
and leveled, somewhat, as they pushed toward the bend in the river and the sand
bar. He noted mentally that Tall Pine was not on the horizon; he should have seen
it by now. The huge evergreen was a landmark by which they normally navigated
this area.
When the shiny silver
thread of the stream came into view some forty feet ahead, reflecting in the cloud-obscured
winter sun’s steep angle, Bapa turned in his saddle to say something to Z.
Tyler. Just as he opened his mouth, the boy watched in slow motion disbelief as
Magic’s head dropped suddenly and the mare squealed in abject fear.
In a black and
white daguerreotype series of tintype frames, the boy witnessed an amazing and
fearsome dreamlike sight as he sat frozen motionless, eyes wide in
astonishment. In his mind echoed a terrified piercing warning but it found no
voice as his mouth went dry and his throat tightened. Helpless to halt the surreal
show unfolding before him like a strobe-lighted scene in some third-rate
Hollywood horror movie poorly choreographed by a deranged, schizophrenic, failed
director attempting to depict impossible realism in unimagined demented modern
artful, bazaar modernistic camera trickery, Z. Tyler could only watch in
stunned, hopeless silence.
In the first
terrifying frame, Magic lunged headfirst in what appeared to be a straight
downward plunge. Then, a volcanic eruption of a white powder cloud exploded,
obfuscating both the sturdy steed and the boy’s fragile grandfather. The third
picture exposed Magic’s back legs, upside down, along with Bapa’s black boots,
somewhere in the melee, splayed wide in a cascade of cloudy snow white fluff,
reminiscent a snow globe shaken with too much enthusiasm.
Finally, the
film ended in an eerie silence; a pronounced deafening peace hung like a
harbinger of dread over a graveyard as the disturbed snow ever so softly
settled down and a cerulean sky overhead belied the tragic incident. Z. had to
make a conscious effort to concentrate in order to convince himself to believe
what he had just witnessed firsthand, and, profoundly wished that he had not.
No sound manifested from the hidden chasm into which Bapa and his mount had
fallen. Not wanting to accept the reality as he quickly rode forward, but
cognizant that he must, one terrible thought permeated his mind like the red
hot pointed tip of a knife searing through thick yellow butter tormenting his
numbed mind: What am I going to tell Nanny?
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