At Considerable Cost

Every family has little stories that are told again and again.   I remember Mama's stories of her siblings as they were growing up on a farm in northeastern Oklahoma and those tales of my father's poor circumstances as a child in the same region.   There were the stories of special teachers and of all the fellow students they knew during college years.   When both of your parents are from the Midwest and one of them rose up from poverty, you learn from an early age about self-reliance and self-determination.   My father's job as a professor of Animal Science put him into contact with 4-H and FFA students, as he judged livestock shows and helped with workshops.   I was the only kid in my club with a 4-H project book written by my father. He always had high praise for those high-achieving students he described as "real go-getters."   They were usually officers in the clubs and they spoke to adults with poise and confidence....

Hand-carved table-top nativity scenes, life-sized nativities, Christmas trees aglow, the wonder of children's faces: they are all images brought to mind during this holy season and I love them all.   When I think about the image that stays with me, that links my childhood to adulthood and never fails to prompt contemplation, it is an unlikely scene that stands out from the rest.    Growing up in Louisiana, I saw extreme poverty in rural areas.   On the farm next to ours, there lived an elderly man who was called, "Preacher."   He worked on the farm and his small home was just beyond our fence.   People passing by would probably refer to his home as a shack and as technical definitions go, they would not be incorrect.   There was one main room which had at its center a free-standing wood stove.   There was no air conditioning in the summertime and Preacher spent most of his spare time on his tiny front porch rather than indoors. Such...

I'm sure that my family was no different in that we had stories that were told and re-told over the years.   These were usually humorous anecdotes and I suppose those which involved children made up the majority of the tales.   Mama like to tell a story about me and a purse.   It was not uncommon for our family to visit cattle farms and ranches on Saturdays.   One of our common destinations was the ranch of a family friend, Mr. Berchman.   He was a Cajun character.   His life seemed to be a series of exciting stories and it was always interesting to visit his home.   When I was about four, we went for a visit and I accidentally left behind a little coin purse.   We visited again about a month later and I found that Mr. Berchman had not only kept the purse for safe-keeping, but he had filled it with pennies. A few months later, we visited Mr. Berchman again.   Mama would always laugh as she described...

I have not been this excited about an approaching Lenten season since 2003, right before we found out we were expecting Emmeline.   Since then, it seems I've either been pregnant or nursing, so the food-related aspects of Lent weren't as much a part of the observances.   That seems to affect the whole season, no matter what else I might have given up or added.   I'm sure it's because I pushed the boundaries by including foods like chocolate that were not necessary to a healthy diet for pregnancy and nursing. This year, our family will be going through unavoidable chaos and activity during Lent, but we are anxious to make this a fruitful time for our family.   We've had a rough year.   A rough six years, but the last year seemed particularly rough.   When I told my friend Amber that I didn't understand why it felt much worse, she reminded me that the events of the previous five years unfolded over that time, but last year we...