Prologue
(taken from: Christmas Perpetual!)
A passer-by on the county road just south
of the cozy farmstead could not help but notice the peace and tranquility of
the living anachronism; a steady, subtle tempo beat to the cadence of a subdued
drum unaffected by the hustle of modern life. The picturesque white house sat
neat and tidy in appearance, yet full of surprise and excitement through a
special kind of love enjoyed by the unique characters who make up this
Christian family.
Hearts full of generous warmth to all with
souls alive in free spirit exuberance toward life and all God’s nature, a
conscience for conservation and appreciation for the good to be found, if only
the participants might but seek. What is before the eye is there, but for the
taking, if intent be pure. Selfless ambition toward the benefit of others
brings eternal pleasure to the giver.
“Do unto others…” cautions man to treat
those he encounters in this life with respect and honest opinion, quite simply,
stated another way, tell the truth in all things, in all times. The Golden Rule
encompasses those Ten Commandments which God gave Moses so many millennia ago.
“Love God” clearly instructs man on his relationship with the Lord in the first
three mandates while the final seven dictates obligate behavior toward his fellow
human beings in a sacred “Love one another” holy decree. Like any good advice
in life, the order is simple in the statement, yet, often anything but easy in
the accomplishment. Pray for us sinners! Indeed!
Only two days before Christmas, and, what could
possibly happen? Another year chronicled to the exhausted calendar of spent
months evaporated in a seeming instant. Yet, since the last winter holiday so
much had been accomplished.
An early Easter in March had seen the
marriage of Z. Tyler and his beloved Mary Theresa. An open, white carriage had
transported the bride and groom to the little country church just down the road
from the farm. The little girls had literally floated into the conveyance in
white dresses reflecting the bridal gown; an insistence by M.T., well received
by the young maids of honor, and the entire assemblage. Yes, the new bride
would fit very nicely into this family.
Each holiday had been a celebration of
life among members of the clan. Come one, come all, including friends and
neighbors, alike. On through the Fourth of July with tons of fireworks; of
course, Nanny made sure that Bapa had plenty of adult supervision, so there
were no serious accidents, and on to a red hot Labor Day bar-b-que to Halloween
and Thanksgiving; any excuse for a get together and an impromptu party. The
little girls came to visit, often. They were a big help on the busy farm and
turned out to be the best leaf-rakers in the state; maybe, the country.
That Bapa! Over protests from Nanny, the
only seeming adult in the household, he brought out the six foot step ladder so
the urchins could climb to the top rung and parachute into the giant pile of
leaves which they had gathered. When he climbed the tower, Nanny had enough and
she put her foot down, issuing a stern admonition in the form of a brash
scolding, and, right in front of his little playmates, too. What else could he
do, under the circumstances? He jumped, twice.
She had thought that fireworks were his forte, but it became quite
apparent that somebody required perpetual supervision, and it wasn’t the
children. She really did not want to feel too sorry for him that night with
severe pain in both his knees, but, she rubbed the liniment into the tortured
tissue for him, anyway. Such is the essence, and relief, of true love.
As we catch up with the family members
preparing for the impending big event, love and chicanery, as usual, are in the
air. Bapa and Z. Tyler are about to embark on their annual Good Samaritan trek
up the mountain to ferry winter supplies to an old family friend. The girls are
busy helping Nanny with kitchen duty, giddy and effervescent at the coming of
Christmas.
And, the rest of the family will shortly
be in attendance for the holiday celebration.
Oh! Yes! Just one more little piece of
news: Z. Tyler is about to become a “Daddy” as Mary Theresa is on the threshold
of delivery. Maybe, God willing, on Christmas Eve!
That would just portend: Christmas
Perpetual! Amen!
Merry Christmas!
Author’s
Comment
(from: Christmas Perpetual!)
I chose “Trinity Trace Publishing” as the
name for my publisher. When we visited Nashville, Dad often took us to the
Farmer’s market where we stocked up on fresh vegetables for our stay. He always
seemed to find an extra dollar or two for a couple of watermelons which we put
in wash tubs, iced them down until they were so cold they hurt your teeth when
eaten and took them to Shelby Park for a picnic of fried chicken and untold
goodies with the iced, sweet melons for dessert. The entire family joined in
and it became a delightful event I still treasure.
The street near the Farmer’s Market was
Trinity Lane and that name, said with a southern accent like Granny had, is
music to my ears, even today. I-65 has an exit just north of downtown; you
guessed it---Trinity Lane. My love of that triangular Trinity image is sacred
as ever present in my cognizant consciousness. I thought to use that moniker
for my publishing company name, but, playing with the idea resulted in Trinity Trace.
A “trace” is a slight path used by Indians before the coming of the Europeans.
Trinity is explanatory of the Deity; the cross fits in, nicely.
The Natchez Trace is a 440-mile two lane
highway connecting Natchez, MS and Nashville, TN. Candy and I had the pleasure
of traversing a part of it one spring. For me, it was like reliving the
experience of real auto touring, prior to interstates. The scenery is gorgeous;
no billboards! We even found a little General Store like the eighteen hundreds-type
in a nondescript backwoods burg. All in all, the trip was most delightful. The
Trace now offers recreational resources.
So, from Trinity Lane, a landmark and
cherished memory, to Natchez Trace, a duplicate of the physical and emotional
reminiscence, Trinity Trace Publishing was born. Voila!
Does anything really happen by mere
chance? Of course, we have free will and get to make our own decisions, but
since God already knows all, He is omniscient, everything that occurs is
already history, to Him; quite obviously, not to us. That might mean “bad” luck
is the result of un-smart decisions on our part. Oh! That is hard to swallow.
Perhaps, we should choose wisely.
“I love you!” is a declaration easily
spoken. The narcissist quickly adds a codicil: IF. If, you will make me proud, make me
applauded, make me look good, make me…? Self-love leaves a cold heart
emotionally empty while filling it with a vacant arrogant intent of
self-defeating evil.
True love is pure, a gift, without
condition. It is mine to give, to offer, to bestow. It does not have to be
acknowledged, reciprocated, returned, received nor even accepted. I love some
who do not even know that I exist and some who wish that I did not,
exist---or…love them. Still, the gift is my own; I cherish its value and my
extremely personal decision of when to proclaim it.
Subtlety is the detail which makes all
life great and pleasurable. The nuance of a “trace” or the purity of “love” or
the mystery of the “Trinity”, these are the adventurous events of our lives.
Trinity Trace Publishing presents:
Christmas Perpetual! Because, “I love
you!” Enjoy!
Merry Christmas!
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