Hello, all! Heidi is back with another Inklings link-up (here's the post), and I am back with another contribution! This month's prompt is a scene with a pearl necklace in book or film. This is more than a single scene, but I decided to share an incident from Anne of Ingleside by L. M. Montgomery, in which Anne comforts her son Jem after his dog dies. . . . Then a tender arm was slipped around him and he was held close in a warm embrace. Oh, there was love left yet in the world, even if Gyppy had gone. "Mother, will it always be like this?" "Not always." Anne did not tell him he would soon forget . . . that before long Gyppy would only be a dear memory. "Not always, little Jem. This will heal sometime . . . as your burned hand healed thought it hurt so much at first." "Dad said he would get me another dog. I don't have to have it, do I? I don't want another dog, Mother . . . not ever." "I know, darling." Mother knew everything. Nobody had a mother like his. He wanted to do something for her . . . and all at once it came to him what he would do. He would get her one of those pearl necklaces in Mr. Flagg's store. He had heard her say once that she really would like to have a pearl necklace and Dad had said, "When our ship comes in I'll get you one, Anne-girl." Ways and means must be considered. He had an allowance but it was all needed for necessary things and pearl necklaces were not among the items budgeted for. Besides, he wanted to earn the money for it himself. It would be really his gift then. Mother's birthday was in March . . . only six weeks away. And the necklace would cost fifty cents! And so Jem sets out with all the earnestness of a small child. Anne's birthday comes at last, and he thinks he succeeds grandly, only to learn--horror of horrors!--that the pearls were not real pearls! . . . Mother came home and slipped in to see that Walter and he were warm. "Jem, dear, are you awake at this hour? You're not sick?" "No, but I'm very unhappy here, Mother dearwums," said Jem, putting his hand on his stomach, fondly believing it to be his heart. "What is the matter, dear?" "I . . . I . . there is something I must tell you, Mother. You'll be awfully disappointed, Mother . . . but I didn't mean to deceive you, Mother . . . truly I didn't." "I'm sure you didn't, dear. What is it? Don't be afraid." "Oh, Mother dearwums, those pearls aren't real pearls . . . I thought they were . . . I did think they were . . . did . . ." Jem's eyes were full of tears. He couldn't go on. If Anne wanted to smile there was no sign of it on her face. . . . "Jem, I never thought you supposed they were real pearls. I knew they weren't . . . at least in one sense of real. In another, they are the most real things I've ever had given me. Because there was love and work and self-sacrifice in them . . . and that makes them more precious to me than all the gems that divers have fished up from the sea for queens to wear. . . .Do you feel better now?" Jem was so happy he was ashamed of it. He was afraid it was babyish to be so happy. "Oh, life is bearable again," he said cautiously. I love Anne and Jem's interactions.
Thank you for hosting, Heidi!
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Sometimes words delight in eluding me.
Right now my brain is so full of choreography that I fear it will EXPLODE. Our recital is coming up soon--too soon!--and I have . . . nine pieces. I think that's more than I've ever had before. School is also wrapping up. In other words, I'm quite busy. And the sad truth is, I've done very little writing recently. I feel low on writerly inspiration, blog-related and otherwise. *glares at Daunting Proportions* But I have been reading, in those spare snatches of time. (And in snatches of time I don't have to spare. Heh.) So I thought I'd share some things I've been reading--poems, to be specific. While I can't write poetry to save my life, I do love a good poem. "Batter My Heart" by John Donne My very dear friend shared this one with me a few months ago, and I keep coming back to read it. It reminds me of Romans 7--that constant battle of the Spirit and the flesh--and it hits hard. The closing lines are just breathtaking (and ridiculously satisfying, because I have a Thing for paradoxes). "Crossing the Bar" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson This one is so utterly tranquil--it's almost soothing. It is tinged with melancholy, but the poet is ultimately at peace with life, with death, with his Creator. It's such a beautiful reminder that death has lost its sting through Christ's victory. "If--" by Rudyard Kipling I highly recommend you go listen to Verses in Vox's rendition. "The Destruction of Sennacherib" by Lord Byron I love the imagery here. It gives me chills. Similes and such are hard to pull off (at least for me), but Byron does it so skillfully. "The Hound of Heaven" by Francis Thompson I saved the best for last! This one just crept into my heart and grabbed me. I memorized almost half of it just by reading it over and over. I'm not even exactly sure why it moves me so. But . . . it's so vivid . . . and . . . it's possibly one of my most favorite poems of all time. And I couldn't even tell you why. Help. How are words treating you these days? Have you read any of these poems? Do you have a favorite poet? Along the Brandywine is hosting an Inklings link-up this month! The prompt being a scene with a cake in book or film, I decided to share part of a story from one of my childhood favorites, In Grandma's Attic by Arleta Richardson. In it, Mabel bakes a cake for her Ma's surprise birthday party.
If Ma suspected anything, she didn't let on. She returned to her sewing, and I spent the afternoon hanging on the front gate, waiting for the first arrivals to the party. They were to come at suppertime, and the ladies would all bring something good to eat. I was sure that no one would come with as beautiful a cake as mine, though. And I was right. Ma was surprised and pleased. "You made this all by yourself, Mabel?" she asked. "Why, it is just lovely. I had no idea you could do that alone!" Proudly I handed Ma the knife. "You must have the first piece, because it's your birthday," I said. Ma cut the cake, and took a large slice on her plate. She took a bite, and an odd look came over her face. Something is wrong, I thought. But what could it be? I watched anxiously, but Ma kept on eating. Satisfied with my success, I ran to play with the other children. That evening, . . . Ma said, "It was the most unusual cake I've ever eaten. What did you use to flavor it, Mabel?" she asked. "Why, the vanilla, Ma," I said. "Just like you always use." "Show me where you got it," said Ma. "Where did you find the vanilla?" Ma followed me to the pantry, and I pointed to the big bottle on the shelf. Ma took it down and looked at it; then she began to laugh. On the front of the bottle the label read, WATKIN'S LINIMENT. Ma wiped her eyes and hugged me close. "That's all right, Mabel," she said. "It was a lovely cake. A little liniment never hurt anyone. I couldn't have asked for a better birthday present." It seems this is a popular mistake ;) Have you read the Grandma's Attic series? Did you ever put liniment in a cake? "When he sees all that is accomplished by his anguish, he will be satisfied." (Isaiah 53: 11)
Emmanuel. It's such a comforting name, isn't it? God with us. To me, it's a name often associated with Christmas, when we celebrate the coming of God into our fallen world. But as we know, Christmas is only the beginning. There was a cost to the sweetness of Emmanuel--a bitter, bloody cost. As we commemorate Christ's death on the cross, it's sobering to remember the horrifying cost paid to tear open the veil, to make God with us a reality. God with us. He knew the cost, saw it laid out before Him. He knew He would be despised and rejected, a man acquainted with the deepest grief. He was under no obligation to us--sinful, rebellious man. He chose to come. He wanted to be God with us. He wanted us, wanted me, despite the cost. And the jealous passion of God's love carried His plan to completion. It is finished. The Maidens of Green Gables are hosting the Celebrating Faith-Filled Fiction Blog Party, and for my contributing post I decided to write about Adventures in Odyssey.
Shocker, right? Actually, choosing a topic was a difficult decision, but . . . how could I resist? Here's another shocker: I, who deplores choosing favorites, have definitive favorite AIO episodes, in a definitive order. (Haven't I mentioned that I have strong opinions when it comes to AIO?) Now, this is an extremely subjective list--I in no way think these are the all-around best, highest quality episodes produced. They're just the ones that currently mean the most to me. Let us proceed. #366: Solitary Refinement "Considering how much effort we put into blocking God out with all our noise, it's no surprise that we have to work that much harder to be with him in silence." This is a beautiful story of the value of silence and solitude in our lives, particularly in regards to the spiritual. The older and busier I get, the more this resonates with me. It has a very, very special place in my heart, unlike any other AIO episode. The daydream sequence is also a classic, and I love how the story doesn't feel crowded or redundant with both Whit and Jack in it, as each plays a distinct role in Eugene's journey. #715-716: The Perfect Church, Parts 1 & 2 "But what if something worse happens?" "That would be glory." Imagination Station adventures are (almost) always fun, but this one is so deep. It breathes life into the familiar story of the book of Acts and paints a vivid portrait of the early church--her triumphs, fears, and hopes. It's such a testament not only to the fortitude of the first Believers, but also of the faithfulness of God in keeping His church alive. This is a very personal one for me as well, and I have a jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings about it. #406-408: Malachi's Message, Parts 1-3 "I am your coincidences and your intuition. I am the one that you glimpse out of the corner of your eye and when you turn, nothing is there." (That quote gives me a thrill--several thrills--as Anne Shirley would say.) This three-parter is near perfection, in my opinion. It has such an ordinary, everyday feel even while plunging into the extraordinary. The Whit's End gang have to grapple with questions about divine intervention and heavenly messengers, and the dynamics between the characters are delightful. The various story threads are woven together so satisfyingly, and I adore it all. I really, really want to write a full review of this some day!! #330: The Time Has Come "The answer is yes." While the inimitable John Avery Whittaker is my absolute favorite character on the show, Eugene holds a very special place in my heart. I love seeing the bond between him and Jack Allen form while Whit is away, and it culminates magnificently in this episode. I sobbed when I first heard this, and I still can't listen to the flashback sequence without getting goosebumps. It's just so beautiful my heart cannot take it. #484-487: Plan B, Parts 1-4 "Eugene must have been in a hurry to get away." "Or else he was robbed by a vest lover." This four-parter is, in my mind, the crux of the Novacom saga. Pieces start coming together, and the action accelerates. I don't often listen through the entire saga, but I never tire of hearing this miniseries. It has it all--twists and turns, humor, intensity, and so much emotion. I so appreciate the writers taking time to let us grieve Eugene and Katrina's departure even amid the craziness. (Also, Monica Stone!) (Yes, I'm still waiting for her to come back.) #232: Thy Kingdom Come "I think I want to believe, but I need help with my unbelief." (I seem to have a lot of Eugene-centric epsiodes on this list . . ) I just love that this episode exists. On the surface, it's simple and almost dull. It takes the time to develop the aftermath of The Mortal Coil and is another baby step in Eugene' salvation journey. The last scene is really the greatest. Not to sound like a bitter old fan (I'm not that old), but I really miss Paul McCusker's Whit. He (usually) wrote Whit with such a thoughtfulness and gravity and all-around intelligence that I feel is somewhat lacking now . . . #928 & 929: The Lost One, Parts 1 & 2 "If you believe that God is listening to you, that means . . . mm, it means you'll have to face up to what you did." Aside from the unfortunate pigeonholing of Pastor Knox and Jason and Mr. Parker, this whole arc is masterfully executed. It's raw and real, taking its time to work through Olivia's doubts. Though there are very dark undertones, the story is infused with truth, goodness, and beauty. This climax has, in my mind, a Screwtape-ish feel, and it's just so good. Boy, that was fun to ramble about AIO :P Thank you, Maidens, for hosting such a neat event! If you haven't already, do go check it out! What are your favorite AIO episodes? Hamlette is hosting We Love Sibling Stories Week at her blog! I'm filling out the tag today and will be back later in the week with my post.
1. Do you have any siblings? I have four--two older, two younger. I'm the middle child, but the first girl. 2. Who are some of your favorite fictional sibling groups? The March sisters, the Pevensie siblings, and the Blythe kids are the first that come to mind. I also adore the Keiths and Lightcaps from the Millie Keith series (Martha Finley, revised by Kersten Hamilton) and the Collinses from the Sugar Creek Gang series (Paul Hutchens). 3. Are there any fictional families you wish you could belong to yourself? It feels . . . almost treacherous to wish that? But I have to say--imagine being a Whittaker and having John Avery Whittaker as a father. I mean, there would be the inevitable Sad Things, and lots of international intrigue, but I repeat: WHIT as a FATHER. (And, ahem, I wouldn't mind having Jason as a brother . . .) 4. Have you ever watched or read a book that reminded you of your own family? I'm blanking . . . I don't think so . . . I'll probably think of something after I post this :P 5. What fictional sibling would you NOT want for your own sibling? The three youngest Bennet sisters would drive me crazy pretty quickly. 6. Are you more drawn to stories about brothers or sisters? I don't think I have a preference. Actually, brother-and-sister stories are my favorite. I adore those. 7. What makes a story involving siblings interesting to you? A realistic portrayal with lots of heart. Y'know, when siblings genuinely enjoy each other and can actually get along without bickering all the time. And that's that for today! Don't forget to check out the fun at Hamlette's blog! . . . Jo March scribbled away. I do likewise, though in my room, staring at a laptop screen. (A garret for writing sounds much nicer. . .) While I am currently embroiled in a Project of Daunting Proportions, I adore writing little scribbles and drabbles and what-nots. Thus I was delighted to read Astrya's brilliant list of prompts (do go check it out!), and out came this little scribble. I hope you enjoy!
An Unnamed Scribble The moment she sets foot in the snow and feels the taste of snowflakes on her tongue, she knows she's home. Why this strange new place is deserving of that ever-elusive title, she does not know, nor does she care to wonder why. It is enough to feast her eyes on the enchanting picture surrounding her, to hear the crunch of white powder beneath her feet, to soak in the bracing chill of the air, and to listen to the stillness. A thrill of wonder and adventure thrums, subdued, in the air, piercing her soul. Never has she felt so strong, so brave, so insignificant. Behind her, a sorrow-wracked, broken world lies framed in the door of a wardrobe; before her, the light of a lamppost shimmers through gently falling snow. Thank you, Astrya! Do you ever find titles to be troublesome things? What are your opinions on garrets? |
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