Thankful Thursday: seedless oranges

Thankful, yes - for SO many things.

Just now while peeling my orange I suddenly found myself once again remembering the orange groves around Fillmore, California.

I remember the neighbor who gave me oranges from her tree.

And she let me pick some of them!

I remember learning about the netting the growers put on the trees to keep out the birds - to produce seedless oranges… 

I do not understand all the details about cross-pollination 

but I do love seedless oranges.

And I am once again so dang grateful for those months in that place.

For those years and those places that we were able to call home for a minute 

A season 

A month

What an extraordinary thing 

A great privilege

I continue to be astonished

And grateful

Happy Juneteenth! I'm sorry I'm late.

Less than 10 years ago I first heard of Juneteenth and have been trying to learn more about it since.  Because I feel such a huge gap in my education, I can identify with this guy.

Yes, fact checkers have found this guy in Ohio, who told them,

"I hope it lets people know that it's OK

to change your opinion

when you're presented with new evidence

that clearly shows you were wrong.”

Today a Facebook friend posted these lines - and gave me permission to share.  Thank you, Ryan DjRhino Flemming. 

On this day in 1865, Union General Gordon Granger arrived in Galveston, Texas, and read General Order No. 3, announcing and enforcing the freedom of enslaved people in Texas.

While President Abraham Lincoln had issued the Emancipation Proclamation more than two years earlier on January 1, 1863, its enforcement depended upon the presence of Union troops. As Union forces advanced into formerly Confederate territory, freedom was not only proclaimed—it was secured. For many enslaved people in Texas, that moment finally arrived on June 19, 1865.

For those who had lived under the bondage of slavery, this was a day of profound joy and significance. In the years that followed, they commemorated the occasion as “Juneteenth,” and over time that celebration spread throughout the nation.

Nearly every major movement has a defining moment that comes to symbolize the larger story. Juneteenth has become such a moment in the story of slavery’s end in the United States. It represents the day when the promise that all people are created equal moved closer to becoming a reality for all Americans.

We remember Juneteenth not to celebrate the fact that slavery once existed in our nation, but to celebrate that it was brought to an end. We honor those who endured its cruelty, those who fought against it, and those who sacrificed to secure freedom for others. We also celebrate the truth that every person is created in the image of God and is therefore worthy of dignity, justice, and respect.

Happy Juneteenth!

 

Sirens, neighbors, and bad news

Sirens can trigger memories for me... of that day back in 1996...

I wrote these lines in my book, Beyond These Walls; where you can find them starting on p. 125.

...

A group of best friends were gathered in a living room when we heard a siren approaching on the highway… and then sudden silence...

That was strange.

What does it mean?

It was so unusual that we stepped outside to get a better look.

The ambulance had turned down the almost-deserted dead-end dirt road - which explained why the siren was no longer needed.

But why would they be going down there?

Hardly anyone lived on that road.

We heard ourselves talking about what it means to love my neighbor as myself.

We remembered how a mutual friend liked to stir up that topic to make us all think.

You know how if you are coming home and see smoke billowing from your neighborhood…?

The panic... the fear… and then the relief when you discover it’s not your house.

Whew! 

But wait; it’s my neighbor’s house…

Hmmm…

This is tricky.

Worth pondering

…

Back to the mystery of the ambulance on the dead-end road…

Within a short time we would discover that the neighbor with the emergency was my own dear dad who had been planting beans in the huge field at the end of that road. 

And now he was gone.

Suddenly.