Happy Birthday Lyn.

Happy Birthday to Lyn! My first grandchild, Lyn - is married to her high school sweetheart, is now the mother of two daughters and a son and is a dedicated school teacher . She and her husband and chidren have recently moved to our town . So it is good to get to be with her and her husband and their beautiful children more often

I wrote the post below a couple of years ago about a book she gave me and post it again on her birthday. She is outstanding, not just to her grandmother but to all who know her.

THE RELATIVES CAME:
Our large extended family (numbering more than 50 now) has celebrated Christmas together on December 26 for over 20 years. This allows for individual family or “other family” gatherings on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

My precious granddaughter Lyn is a thoughtful gift buyer. Among other gifts, she gave me a book entitled The Relatives Came by Cynthia Rylant. I have read and looked at the pictures…twice! It is a book she reads to her students every year, she tells me. The book reminds her (and me) of all the “hugging, eating and breathing” of our “big, loving, supportive and fun-loving” family.

It may have been a book I needed to read. I was tired and considering whether or not the party was worth all the cooking, cleaning and emotion involved in such a large family celebration.

Was it worth it to my children and grandchildren who drove across the state and some across several states to get here?

Clearly, it is a great ocassion for all the young children (age 6 to 13) who take turns being Santa Claus and handing out gifts. It seem to be "worth any trouble" to the little children who love to play together with siblings and cousins on the lawn or in the "children's bed room" in the house here.

Charles Columbus Shaw- May 21, 1919- Dec 3, 1986

IN LOVING MEMORY Charles Columbus Shaw- (May 21, 1919- Dec 3, 1986,) The photo to the right ( below )shows Charles as a four year old standing in front of his Dad, Grady Columbus Shaw His 15 months younger brother James Edward is standing in front of their mother Lillian Wilkerson Shaw.

The photo on the left is Charles at 18, just a year before he and I were married on August 5, 1938. I was three and a half years younger than he.

I thought it might be a good way to honor Charles today by following the lead of my daughter Joan in her Daddy's Roses Blog a few years ago. Joan helped me set up the Ruthlace Blog moniker back in 2005 and is a computer whiz as well as the the family expert in all thing English and Spanish.

Several years ago on Daddys' Roses, Joan wrote a great post , citing 13 differences in her and her DH. (Darling Husband). In honor of my Husband;s birthday, here is aare mine again:

1…. Movies. Charles loved movies, especially the old cowboy movies. I am not much of a movie fan. I have seen probably less than a half a dozen in a theater in the last 20 years and not many more on Television.

2.... Seafood. Charles and I both liked sea food. We both grew up eating fish caught fresh from the Yellow River.

3.... Sunday School. Like many pastors, he was not a regular in one Sunday School Class. I enjoyed very much being a part of a Sunday School Class from childhood on and have taught classes in all the churches where DH was pastor.

4.... Pets. Neither of us had much time for pets. We did have Hercules, a chihuahua when the children were small and later a German Shepherd who "followed David home" from school. David named the big dog "Rex" (the name of his Dad's childhood dog) as soon as they arrived home. Rex loved to swim in the large lake in the neighborhood in East Point.

5.... Vacation Spots. We both enjoyed camping and family gatherings. Charles also loved fishing and hunting and once caught an 18 inch Brown Trout in an Ellijay mountain stream much to the delight of our children and some of the neighbor children who were splashing in the water. He had the fish mounted by Rev. Bob Cagle, who had answered the call to preach and as a student and member of our UMC in Ellijay.

6.... Temperature. I am the cold-natured one who now wears long sleeves even in the Summer. This may be an old age thing.

7.... Time of Day. He was a night owl; I am an early bird. When he was in Seminary at Candler, he would stay up all night writing papers or studying for an exam. On the other hand, I went to Seminary after his death and would go to bed early and get up at 4 to write any paper that required creativity.

8.... Food. We both throughly enjoyed a dinner of fresh turnip greens and cornbread with a glass of buttermilk as a complete meal after all our children were out of the nest. A meal with dried beans cooked from scratch as the main course was also a welcomed meal to both of us. We failed in passing along the love of fresh greens and those wonderful dried beans protein source to our children?

9.... Family of Origin. I am the youngest of nine and the only one still living. Charles was the oldest of five boys. The last of his four brothers died in Janurary of this year at age 85. My father died when I was 9 but Charles and I both had strong family ties with parents and siblings.

10.... TV Shows. He enjoyed the old cowboy and war movies or shows like Gunsmoke and M.A.S.H. I prefer a situation comedy like Designing Women or Mattlock. . In recent years, I have lost interst in most of the TV offerings.

11.... Health. He had serious hearing and ear problem from World War II experiences. His first heart attack and by -pass surgery was at age 59 and his final one at age 67. Most of my health issues, except for painful TriGeminal neuralgia episodes from 1990 on have been after age 82.

12.... Religion. Both of us very serious, some might say "overly serious" Christians.

13.... Blog. I enjoy all forms of writing and still write as I live! I doubt that he would have gotten into blogging as he left much of the family writing (Christmas letters etc.) up to me. He was an outgoing and charismatic extrovert. I am more introverted. He would sometimes have me edit pastoral reports and letters while he made sick calls. However he read widely books of Theology and the Bible , was good in New Testament Greek , was gifted in Biblical preaching.

The Giles's Girls and Quilt Making.

When I think of quilts, I always think of the Giles sisters.

My mother had cousins she and her siblings called the "Giles girls." Three of the girls never married. One of their specialties was quilt making. In one of the bedrooms in their country home (near Fayetteville) there was a stack of beautiful quilts that reached all the way to the ceiling. Not just an eight foot ceiling, but a country ceiling! And the platform that held the quilts was just a few inches off the floor.

When I went with my family to visit as a child, we were always awestruck to see such a mountainous stack of quilts. And they were folded only once, and the corners matched perfectly
Whenever anyone mentioned the Giles sister, someone would say, "I wonder whatever happened to all those quilts." I do not know. With no children nor grandchildren to wear the quilts out sleeping on the floor, they may be heirlooms in some home.
Hopefully some of the neices or nephews have them.

Mama loved and respected her Giles cousins and had played with them as a child so we visited as often as possible even though we lived some distance apart.
I remember them in our home a few times. The family lore is full of stories of the perculiarity of the "Giles girls." On one of their visits to our house, we were all sitting around at bedtime in the "sitting room - bedroom."

The slop jar had already been brought in. I do not remember all the circumstances but my four year old nephew was asleep on one of the beds. Lula said to Mama, in her slow speech typical of the Hollywood stereotype of the Southern drawl, "Eula do you think it would be alright for me to use the slop jar with that little boy in the room."

But life goes on. God bless the memory of these quaint Giles sisters who so facinated us in my childhood.

The Giles sisters were perfect housekeepers. Their country house was said to be so so clean one could "eat off the floor." I am sure no one ever did!

Annie (1885-1975) and Lula (1882-1956)were in charge of the cooking and Pearl (1888-1978)did much of the work in the large garden. They raised their own vegetables for year round use. They canned vegetables and dried fruits for winter use. I remember sitting at their table one time as a child with bowls of vegetables and a huge platter of fresh sliced country tomotoes. I do not remember much about the rest of the menu, but no doubt they also had fried chicken and perhaps another meat dish as a typical "company" dinner in the rural South.

Their mother, Aunt Elmira (Elmira Mask Giles 1854_1940)) was a sister
to Mama's mother, Elizabeth Mask Dick. Elmira and Elizabeth were the daughters of the properous (for the times) farmer and Methodist preacher Bogan Mask. They could (and did ) trace their (our) family history back to the Revolution. Family history was important as "Class" was valued in the South with so many other things "gone with the wind" after the Civil War. It is strange and of little importance to me now but my mother told us on more than one ocassion we "came from good stock."

One of the Giles daughters, Odell, had married, and their only brother had married; but Annie, Pearl, and Lula never married. When Mama and her sisters, Aunt Molly, Aunt Cora and Aunt Fannie visited together, they sometimes remarked about how "pitiful" it was that the Giles girls had never married. Marriage for women was considered of utmost inportance then. So it follows that many of the Women's liberation generation rebelled in the oposite direction.

Aunt Cora pointed out that the reason the Giles girls did not marry was because their papa, Uncle William Giles )1859-1826) was so "peculiar." They said Uncle Bill Giles was "curious".

This did not mean the dictionary reference for the word as eager to learn or inquisitive.
Uncle Bill, they reported was " flat out cure-rus" which meant strange.. He would never let his daughters date. It was said that he "ran off" every man who showed an interest in courting one of his daughters.

It seems that the youngest daughter, Odell had "run off and got married."

Profiling

The column in the Rome New-Tribune by Cheryl Huffman on January 7 should be read nationwide.

Coming home with her husband from a honeymoon in France, a tiny jar of peach perserves was confiscated and Huffman was delayed endlessly. It illustrates the lengths we have taken since 9/11 to avoid anything that could be labeled “profiling.”

Certainly, the next terrorist who tries to board one of our planes will have learned something from the failed attempt of Nigerian terrorist Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab. The next "would be " bomber will not likely buy a one way ticket and may even bleach his hair to avoid any of the glaring red flags of the Christmas day terrorist. But he almost certainly cannot disguise as an Anglo-Saxon/Celtic/Slavic women.

It is true that all Muslins are not terrorists. This seems to be the major concern of many of the Muslin leaders who get on television. This was a concern of President Bush who went too far to avoid anything that could be labeled “profiling.” No intelligent person believes all Muslins are terrorists.

We are also aware, as is often pointed out, of men like Timothy McVey, the atheist Caucasian young man who was tried, convicted and put to death in the 1990's.

But we have to know also, that all of the terrorists since 9/11 have been Muslin Males between the ages of 14 and 50? All! Surely innocent Muslin American men know this and can understand why they should be questioned more often and more seriously (even if it is labeled “profiling”) than a Caucasian women returning home from France with a tiny jar of French preserves?

Happy Mother's Day 2010

I never knew Mama (Ieula Ann Dick Baird: March 6, 1885-December 7,1973.) as the young women in the picture to the left. She was 37 when I was born as the youngest of 11, nine of who grew to adulthood.

Mama told me stories about her life as a lttle girl as we slept in the same bed in our smaller home after my fathers death when i was nine.

My mother had also been raised by a widowed mother. Her young father had died when she was only 18 months old and while her mother was pregnant with her youngest brother. There were four older sisters and an older brother. She was reared in a small house on her maternal grandfather's large farm. Mama once told how, as a little girl, she would sometimes rub her mother's cold feet to warm them on freezing winter nights. She adored her hard working mother. With tears in her eyes, Mama also told me of the last time she saw her mother. She had watched her mother's horse and buggy out of sight down the long dusty road in front of their modest country home. When she got word her mother was dying, (around 1917) Mama took a train from their home in Oak Hill (near Conyers) but her mother had already died when she arrived in Griffin.

I started the first "Mothers Day post" on Ruthlace in 2005 by reminding all of us that to become a mother is not to become a saint. We all would agree there are saintly mothers and there are self centered, even criminal mothers. Most of us as mothers find our place somewhere in between.

Yet, in spite of the seemingly endless nausea and misery of pregnancy and tramatic pain of childbirth, the incredible love we have for that helpless and amazingly beautiful baby when it is finally born is awesome. There is something about motherhood that tends to bring out the best in most of us. Most of use can identify with Erma Bombeck who said; "...the easiest part of being a mother is giving birth. The hardest part is showing up on the job each day."

As adults, most of us also have an emotional attachment and love for our mother and come to Mother's Day thinking about our own mother and not about some honor due us if we also happen to be a mother. In cases where the mother has such personal problems as to neglect, abuse or abandon the child there is always unbelievable sorrow. Just the thought of "mother" brings about great emotion in many of us.

I remember one Saturday before Mothers Day when I was sitting in the sanctuary with our church music director. We were discussing the music for the next day and got into conversation about some of the old Mother's Day hymns. She mentioned two old gospel songs; "That Silver Haired Mother of Mine" and "If I Could Hear My Mother Pray Again." We both choked up.

Charles Swindoll's book, entitled Living Beyond The Daily Grind, has a chapter, "The Grind of Motherhood." Is there any one of us who will not agree that in addition to the many joys of motherhood and the endless rewards, motherhood is a four letter word called "Work." Swindoll puts it this way; "The daily mounds of laundry, ironing, folding, cleaning , cooking, car pooling, being a referee, a coach, and encourager, a counselor, a cop, staying pretty, remaining tactful, loveable, compassionate, cheerful, responsible, balanced and sane..."

My daughter, Deborah Lewis, wrote a book in 1990, later put out in paperback which I think is one of the best on the subject of Motherhood Stress. If you have not read it, I recommend it. On the cover is a woman stretched out across two mountain peaks, with children walking across her, and the sub title is "Finding Encouragement in the Ultimate Helping Profession." Motherhood is the ultimate helping profession and parents are encouraged to realize the importance of the job.

I was in my early fifties when my mother died. Even though I had a husband and seven children, I will never forget the sense of lone-liness and loss I felt to realize my mother was no longer in my world.

The above photo is of my mother with her youngest grandchildren and some of her great grandchildren made at her home in March of 1960 or 1961 at our annual homecoming which we celebrated every year near her March 6 birth date. Until the last few days of her life, she lived in her own home and took care of herself. I am old enough now to realize it was not an easy thing to do. (The three youngest Shaw children are seen in the photo above. The two girls standing behind the sofa are Deborah Ruth Shaw Lewis and Jane Ann Baird Lathem. Four of the children in the part of the photo seen are great gandchildren. Far right (the his arms crossed) is David Baird Shaw. Next is Charles "Chuck" Jerry Baird , son of Jerry and Pat Baird and grandson of Ruth and Charlie Baird. Don't write it in stone but I think next little boy is Danny Loyd, the son of Benny and Evelyn Loyd (the grandson of Pelham and Vera Loyd. Sharlyn Beth Shaw Roszel is sitting next to her grandmother and the little girl next to her is Diane Loyd Gage, daughter of Benny and Evelyn Loyd.)

My mother had a philosophy of life as a Christian, not to worry about things that “could not be helped” and to take each day as a new beginning. In her honor, I want to again include the ballad I wrote in 1883 to honor my mother.

A BALLAD FOR MY MOTHER
1. My mother grew old. . . had lines etched in her face,
Worked hard all her life. . . with uncommon grace
She lived by the Bible. . . Each day and each mile.
She taught me her secret. . . of life with a smile.

Refrain:
Today is the first day. . . Of the rest of your life.
Don't borrow trouble. . . With yesterday’s strife.
Take time, smell the flowers. . .
It makes life worth while .
Pick up each new day. . . With love and a smile!

2. Widowed while young. . . Mama worked in a mill.
Washed on a scrub-board. . . Brought wood up a hill.
She sang as she labored. . . to stay out of debt.
She taught me a lesson. . . I'll never forget.
Refrain:

3. One day I said, "Mama,. . . Your life has been hard.
You've buried two babies. . . Out in the church yard.
You've known all the heartache. . . of struggling for bread."
She smiled through her tears and these words she sai

4. Her old fashioned teacakes? We ate the last crumb!
Her old fashioned flowers? She had a green thumb!
She lived by the Bible. . . Each day and each mile.
She taught me her secret. . . of life with a smile.

Refrain:
Today is the first day. . . Of the rest of your life.
Don't borrow trouble. . . With yesterday’s strife.
Take time. . . smell the flowers.
It makes life worth while.
Pick up each new day with joy and a smile.

Ruth Baird Shaw<><

Happy Mothers Day

Happy Mother’s Day! We are all either the son or the daughter of a mother. So in that capacity all of us fit into a Mother’s Day Celebration.

As a Mother myself, I have had a difficult time with some of the sermons I have heard on Mother's Day, They make us all …all mothers "angels." One would get the idea that to become a mother is to become a saint.

Erma Bombeck said, "The easiest part of being a mother is giving birth. The hardest part is showing up on the job every day." And I might add it is showing up 24/7.

We all know there are loving, hard working, good mothers and there are also selfish and neglectful and not so good mothers. Most of us as mothers find our place somewhere in between.

At the same time, there is something about motherhood that tends to bring out the best in us. The seemingly endless nausea, misery and pain of pregnancy and childbirth mixed with that incredible love that we have for that helpless and amazingly beautiful baby when it is finally born is awesome.

It is awesome to be a mother. No wonder so many of us feel so inadequate we fall on our knees and seek the wisdom of God.

Many of us, probably most of us as adults have an emotional attachment and love for our mother. And in cases where the mother has such personal problems as to neglect, abuse or abandon the child there is always unbelievable sorrow. In case where the mother dies while the child is young, there is a great feeling of loss.

Just the thought of "mother" brings about great emotion in many of us. I remember one morning a few days before Mothers Day when I was sitting in the sanctuary at Grantville with our church music director.

We were discussion the music for Mother’s Day and got into conversation about some of the old time songs about mother. She mentioned two of the old gospel songs from her childhood, "That Silver Haired Mother of Mine" and "If I Could Hear My Mother Pray Again," and we both choked up with tears in our eyes.

Mother seems to see possibilities in us that other people seem to not notice. Just as God sees possibilities in us that we do not see in ourselves and others fail to see.

My father died when i was nine so i was raised by a bright, loving and hard working widow in the 1930 depression years.

Neighbors were an important part of life in the twenties and thirties. My mother used the term "We were neighbor to..
We did not locked our doors even at night when I was a child. Neighbors were in and out of our home all the time; often to borrow a cup of sugar or flour or an egg to finish out a recipe for a cake. Often a neighbor would stop in to share vegetables or cookies.
Sometimes the visits were just to sit and talk. Our house was usually the gathering place after dinner at night on our front porch. Our porch had several rocking chairs as well as a swing that seated two or three.

While the adults were talking, the children played "hide and seek" or "kick the can" out in the front yard or on the unpaved road in front of our house.

My mother lived to be nearly 89 years old and she had a philosophy of life as a Christian, not to worry about things that “could not be helped” and to take each day as a new beginning. I wrote a ballad for Mama:

1. My mother grew old...
Had lines etched in her face
Worked hard all her life. . .
With uncommon grace
She lived by the Bible. . .
And I'd visit awhile
She taught me her secret. . .
of life with a smile

She said: "Today is the first day
Of the rest of your life.
Don't borrow trouble
With yesterday’s strife.
Take time. . . smell the flowers
Make life worth while
Pick up each new day
With love and a smile!

Widowed while young. . .
Mama worked in the mill
Washed on a scrub-board. . .
Brought wood up a hill
She sang as she labored. . .
To stay out of debt
She taught me this lesson. . .
I'll never forget!

She said, "Today is the first day
Of the rest of your life
Don't borrow trouble
With yesterday's strife...
Take time...smell the flowers
That makes life worthwhile
Pick up each new day...
With Love and a smile! "

3. One day I said, Mama. . .
Your life has been hard
You've buried two babies. . .
Out in the church yard
You've known all the heartache
Of struggling for bread,
She smiled through her tears..
These words she said:

She said "Today is the first day
Of the rest of your life.
Don't borrow trouble
With yesterday’s strife.
Take time. . . smell the flowers
That makes life worth while
Pick up each new day...
With love and a smile! "

4. Her old fashioned tea cakes. . .
We ate the last crumb
Her old fashioned flowers. . .
She had a green thumb.
She lived by the Bible. . .
Each day and each mile
She taught me her secret. . .
Of life with a smile!

Ruth Baird Shaw

Recipes, Rhymes and Reflections by Ruth Baird Shaw (Second edition)
was recently published,

Recipes, Rhymes and & Reflections is a lifelong collection of time-tested recipes that were given to Ruth by some of Georgia's best cooks.

Along with the recipes are nineteen of Ruth's most popular poems.

Included by request are six meditations and homilies written during Ruth's United Methodist pastoral ministry.

Critics say "Ruth's poetry speaks of human emotions and experiences with a light heart and a profound faith." Ruth is often asked to share both her poetry and homilies with a wide variety of groups.

When Ruth was speaking at a Homecoming service a few years ago,a lady came up after the service to tell Ruth that she read her "Butterfly Poem" every morning as a part of her daily devotional.

Recipes , Rhymes and Reflections is a book of 122 pages selling for only $10. (add $2. postage for mailing ). You can use Ruth's email mailto:emailRuthshaw@aol.com to request a copy giving you name and mailing address.