Merry Christmas to Me!

Here I sit, thinking about Christmas, and my heart is so full it could almost be Thanksgiving. I decided to come share, and find myself oddly short on words. So this may be a “scribble scrabble letter,” as Jo March would say. (I don’t have a copy of Little Women, so feel free to correct the quote in the comments.)

Although Jack passed on October 1st last year, it feels like it’s Christmas that marks the true end of my first year of freedom. I was still finding my way in those first few months, navigating “new widowhood” waters. So much has changed.

Things are still changing, as I’m recognizing ingrained “training” and countering it. Like the day, only a few months ago, when I realized I was rushing through a store and stopped in the middle of an aisle, frozen by the realization that I was still acting as if he were at home growing progressively angrier at my absence. There was NO ONE, other than me, who cared where I was or what I was doing. Yes, I intentionally slowed down and chose to enjoy the process.

So, side note: When you’re coming out of an abusive relationship, realize that it will take time to deal with all your baggage. That was a heavy backpack I’d not even realized I was wearing.

So many wonderful things have happened in the past year. Relationships that had been strained (because of him) have been growing increasingly stronger. My emotional health has improved unimaginably. And my physical health, TIA aside, has been great too.

Where my body is concerned, I’ve had more money and mental real estate to invest in taking care of me. I’d tried before, because I knew I had to stay healthy to keep him healthy, but his care had always been the priority. Now I am at a place where I know what works for me and I’m able to plan to maintain. For instance, knowing I’ll go months without widows’ benefits, I’ve been buying my key supplements in advance. Part of them anyway. I could never have done that before.

The biggest change is peace. I always tried to stay focused on God, and had His gift of peace, but the peace that comes from no constant strife and no 24/7 television? That is something I still delight over. My home is so quiet most of the time that…it’s bliss.

And it’s true. I really don’t own a television and it’s by choice. Many people think I’m nuts, but on those rare occasions when I’m in the mood, like during this season of The Voice, I watch with my sister on the couch that’s only steps away. (And yes, I’m glad Huntley won, though I felt the last four all could have.)

I’ve been asked if I plan to stay in my tiny home until Jesus comes back. Yes, unless God has a different plan, I do. I am happier here than I have been anywhere. I hate housework, and this requires almost none. I love silence and this gives me much. I have family right here, and love the casual time I spend with them.

Yeah, that’s a big part of why I’m so thankful this Christmas season. Casual fellowship with family is a beautiful thing. It doesn’t have to be planned; it just happens. Even my grandson pops in on occasion, sometimes with his fiancé, and that sort of thing never would have happened before. Frankly, it would have made me uncomfortable on many levels back when Jack ruled the house.

As I celebrate Jesus this season and look to 2024 with anticipation, my heart is full. There were so many years when… Nah, not even going to think about those years. They’re over. God has brought me into a new season.

“Look, the winter is past, and the rains are over and gone. The flowers are springing up, the season of singing birds has come, and the cooing of turtledoves fills the air.”
‭‭Song of Songs‬ ‭2:11-12‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Celebrating Jesus!

Tammy C

THE CACIQUE’S NOBLE DAUGHTER.

I think of thee, sweet lady, as of one
Too pure to mix with others, like some star,
Shining in pensive beauty all alone,
Kindred with those around, yet brighter far.
                                                                        Mrs. Welby.

In his history of the Conquest of Florida, Mr. Theodore Irving repeats, very interestingly, the story of Juan Ortiz who, with three other Spaniards, fell into the hands of the Indians by stratagem. The four captives were taken to the village of Hirrihigua, the cacique, who ordered them to be executed on a day of religious festival. Three were shot with arrows; and then “Juan Ortiz, a youth, scarce eighteen years of age, of a noble family of Seville, was the fourth victim. As they were leading him forth, his extreme youth touched with compassion the hearts of the wife and daughters of the cacique, who interceded in his favor.

“The cacique listened to their importunities, and granted for the present the life of Ortiz; – but a wretched life did he lead. From morning until evening he was employed in bringing wood and water and was allowed but little sleep and scanty food. Not a day passed that he was not beaten. On festivals he was an object of barbarous amusement to the cacique, who would oblige him to run, from sunrise until sunset, in the public square of the village, where his companions had met their untimely end, Indians being stationed with bows and arrows, to shoot him, should he halt one moment. When the day was spent, the unfortunate youth lay stretched on the hard floor of the hut, more dead than alive. At such times the wife and daughters of the cacique would come to him privately with food and clothing, and by their kind treatment his life was preserved.

” At length the cacique, determining to put an end to his victim’s existence, ordered that he should be bound down upon a wooden frame, in the form of a huge gridiron, placed in the public square, over a bed of live coals, and roasted alive.

“The cries and shrieks of the poor youth reached his female protectors, and their entreaties were once more successful with the cacique. They unbound Ortiz, dragged him from the fire, and took him to their dwelling, where they bathed him with the juice of herbs, and tended him with assiduous care. After many days he recovered from his wounds, though marked with many a scar.

“His employment was now to guard the cemetery of the village. This was in a lonely field in the bosom of a forest. The bodies of the dead were deposited in wooden boxes, covered with boards, without any fastening except a stone or a log of wood laid upon the top; so that the bodies were often carried away by wild beasts.

“In this cemetery was Ortiz stationed, with a bow and arrows, to watch day and night, and was told that should a single body be carried away, he would be burnt alive. He returned thanks to God for having freed him from the dreaded presence of the cacique. hoping to lead a better life with the dead than he had done with the living.

“While watching thus one long wearisome night, sleep overpowered him towards morning. He was awakened by the falling lid of one of the chests, and running to it, found it empty. It had contained the body of an infant recently deceased, the child of an Indian of great note.

“Ortiz doubted not some animal had dragged it away, and immediately set out in pursuit. After wandering for some time, he heard, at a short distance within the woods, a noise like that of a dog gnawing bones. Warily drawing near to the spot, he dimly perceived an animal among the bushes, and invoking succor from on high, let fly an arrow at it. The thick and tangled underwood prevented his seeing the effect of his shot, but as the animal did not stir, he flattered himself that it had been fatal: with this hope he waited until the day dawned, when he beheld his victim, a huge animal of the panther kind, lying dead, the arrow having passed through his entrails and cleft his heart.

“Gathering together the mangled remains of the infant, and replacing them in the coffin, Ortiz dragged his victim in triumph to the village, with the arrow still in his body. The exploit gained him credit with the old hunters, and for some time softened even the ferocity of the cacique. The resentment of the latter, however, from the wrongs he had suffered from white men, was too bitter to be appeased. Some time after, his eldest daughter came to Ortiz, and warned him that her father had determined to sacrifice him at the next festival, which was just at hand, and that the influence of her mother, her sisters, and herself would no longer avail him. She wished him, therefore, to take refuge with a neighboring cacique named Mucozo, who loved her and sought her in marriage, and who, for her sake, would befriend him. ‘This very night at midnight.’ said the kind-hearted maiden, ‘at the northern extremity of the village you will find a trusty friend who will guide you to a bridge, about two leagues hence; on arriving there, you must send him back, that he may reach home before the morning dawn, to avoid suspicion -for well he knows that this bold act, in daring to assist you, may bring down destruction upon us both. Six leagues further on, you will come to the village of Mucozo -tell him I have sent you, and expect him to befriend you in your extremity -I know he will do it-go, and may your God protect you!’ Ortiz threw himself at the feet of his generous protectress, and poured out his acknowledgments for the kindness she had always shown him. The Indian guide was at the place appointed, and they left the village without alarming the warlike savages. When they came to the bridge, Ortiz sent back the guide, in obedience to the injunction of his mistress, and, continuing his flight, found himself, by break of day, on the banks of a small stream near the village of Mucozo.

“Looking cautiously around, he espied two Indians fishing. As he was unacquainted with their language, and could not explain the cause of his coming, he was in dread lest they should take him for an enemy and kill him. He, therefore, ran to the place where they had deposited their weapons and seized upon them. The savages fled to the village without heeding his assurances of friendly intention. The inhabitants sallied out with bows and arrows, as though they would attack him. Ortiz fixed an arrow in his bow, but cried out at the same moment, that he came not as an enemy but as an ambassador from a female cacique to their chief. Fortunately one present understood him, and interpreted his words. On this the Indians unbent their bows, and returning with him to their village, presented him to Mucozo. The latter, a youthful chieftain, of a graceful form and handsome countenance, received Ortiz kindly for the sake of her who had sent him; but, on further acquaintance, became attached to him for his own merits, treating him with the affection of a brother.”

______

Excerpted from Noble Deeds of American Women
(Patriotic Series for Boys and Girls)
Edited by J. Clement
——
With an Introduction by Mrs. L. H. Sigourney
Illustrated
BOSTON: Lee and Shepard, Publishers
Entered by Act of Congress, in the year of 1851,
by E. H. Derby and Co., in the Clerk’s Office of the Northern District of New York
______

Carry Your Own Cross

“And if you do not carry your own cross and follow me,
you cannot be my disciple.”

Luke 14:27 NLT

I’m reading through the book of Luke in preparation for Christmas, and after much thought decided I needed to back up to this verse for a bit.

We celebrate Christmas in honor of Jesus, who is the greatest gift. He came, by His own choice, to die so that we could live. It’s important to note that He didn’t come to bring salvation as it is sometimes casually viewed – essentially a get out of jail free card. He came so that we can LIVE. We aren’t only looking forward to eternity in His presence, but to a full and abundant life right here, a life that counts where His Kingdom is concerned.

Foundational to living, truly living, is being His disciple. Those who heard Him that day, in Luke 14, knew exactly what He was saying when He used the word “disciple.” To be someone’s disciple is to follow their example in all things. It is also to accept and act on their instruction and guidance as they strive to help you mature. Jesus was actually making the offer to all who heard Him, but few would accept the invitation. Why?

In verse 28 He commanded them, “But don’t begin until you count the cost.”

This is wisdom, as He warned in Luke 9:62 NLT: “But Jesus told him, ‘Anyone who puts a hand to the plow and then looks back is not fit for the Kingdom of God.'”

Jesus had already let them know in verse 26 that, if they wanted to be His disciples, they had to count Him as more important than everyone else in their lives, including themselves. And then came verse 27: “And if you do not carry your own cross and follow me, you cannot be my disciple.”

This verse is quoted so often than I’m not sure we really see it anymore, that we’re not paying full attention to what He’s saying here. I even remember thinking, during one of the really bad times with my husband, “If he is my cross to bear, then I will bear it,” but this verse means so much more!

“But Christ has rescued us from the curse pronounced by the Law. When he was hung on the cross, he took upon himself the curse of our wrong doing. For it is written in the Scriptures, ‘Cursed is everyone who is hung on a tree.‘”

Galatians 3:13 NLT

As Christians, we look at this verse and we love it. And why not?! This amazing act of mercy, Christ taking all of our sins on Himself, washing them away with His own blood, changed our lives forever!

But let’s go back to the gathering in Luke 14 and think about where their heads were, where their thoughts must have gone. They couldn’t see what was coming. They were limited by their own knowledge and experience. In their world a cross served one purpose, and Jesus had just told them they would have to take up a cross that would be particularly their own. They wouldn’t be helping Him carry His cross as Simon the Cyrene was forced to do. He was asking each of them to take up their own cross.

This had to set them back, throw them for the proverbial loop. Because they knew.

They knew…
The cross was a sign of being cursed.
The cross was a very public tool of death.
The cross was a clear mark that you were a criminal.
The cross was intentionally demoralizing.
The cross was a cause of shame for the criminal’s family.
The cross was physically backbreaking before you were even put on it.
The cross was an incredibly slow and agonizing death.

If anyone wanted to be His disciple, they had to accept the reality that the cross, at least figuratively, could very well be in their future. Far from offering them the life of comfort many were currently enjoying, the life His abundant miracles might have implied, the life of sunshine and roses that Christians sometimes foolishly promise to potential converts today, He was laying out a heavy truth.

And here it is.

As Christians, genuine disciples of Jesus, while we look forward to the mountaintop experiences, it’s best to be prepared for the hard seasons that will inevitably come, to consider the cost ahead of time and be ready so that we won’t be tempted to look back. Like Jesus, we can expect to be hated, vilified, attacked unmercifully, laughed at, and more.

So… are you ready?

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

PATRIOTIC WOMEN OF OLD MIDDLESEX.

In the radiant front superior shines
That first paternal virtue, public zeal,
Who throws o’er all an equal wide survey,
And, ever musing on the common weal,
Still labors glorious with some great design.
                                                                        Thomson.

“Old Middlesex” being our native county, with peculiar pleasure and some local pride, we record the following anecdote. Should the historical ploughshare be driven through the other towns in the county, and the towns generally of Massachusetts, it would turn up similar gems in abundance, “of purest ray serene.” We quote from Butler’s History of Groton:

“After the departure of Colonel Prescott’s regiment of ‘minute-men,’ Mrs. David Wright, of Pepperell, Mrs. Job Shattuck, of Groton, and the neighboring women, collected at what is now Jewett’s Bridge, over the Nashua, between Pepperell and Groton, clothed in their absent husbands’ apparel, and armed with muskets, pitchforks, and such other weapons as they could find; and having elected Mrs. Wright their commander, resolutely determined that no foe to freedom, foreign or domestic, should pass that bridge. For rumors were rife, that the regulars were approaching and frightful stories of slaughter flew rapidly from place to place, and from house to house.

“Soon there appeared one* on horseback, supposed to be treasonably engaged in conveying intelligence to the enemy. By the implicit command of Sergeant Wright, he is immediately arrested, unhorsed, searched, and the treasonable correspondence found concealed in his boots. He was detained prisoner, and sent to Oliver Prescott, Esq., of Groton, and his dispatches were sent to the Committee of Safety.”

* Captain Leonard Whiting, of Hollis, N. H, a noted tory, who was the bearer of dispatches from Canada to the British in Boston.

______

Excerpted from Noble Deeds of American Women
(Patriotic Series for Boys and Girls)
Edited by J. Clement
——
With an Introduction by Mrs. L. H. Sigourney
Illustrated
BOSTON: Lee and Shepard, Publishers
Entered by Act of Congress, in the year of 1851,
by E. H. Derby and Co., in the Clerk’s Office of the Northern District of New York
______

Tiny House Part 12: The Shower

Seriously? She’s going to tell us about her shower?

Yes. Yes, I am. I am going to tell you about my shower because it was such a big part of the design challenge.

We were so tight on space that I assured them I would be fine with the smallest shower stall they make. I think that was 32xs32? Fortunately for me, when they were shopping, she stepped inside that tiny one and realized even she couldn’t hack anything so small longterm, and I’m taller than she is. Instead, they got me a 36×36 and I have been grateful ever since. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind a little more space. This is sufficient; it works great in fact. I just can’t imagine going any smaller. So, if you’re building, consider what you realistically need. Yes, we sacrificed a few inches in the main room, but it was more than worth the investment!

They installed an instantaneous water heater in the “attic” above my bath, and it provides plenty of hot water. Oh, and they got me a rainhead. I’ve never had one before and this one, especially since it’s adjustable, is amazing.

The shower curtain is from Amazon. I hunted forever, or so it felt, until I found just the right design to keep me in remembrance of our cruises. This is actually a 60″ curtain (Technically it should have been 48.”) because when I looked at the smaller version it seemed that they had distorted the picture to make it fit. I had originally planned to have this one cut down, but instead I just folded some of the fabric and doubled up on a couple of the hooks. That lets it spread out so I can see it, with the extra fabric not too very noticeable off to the side. (And yes, I got in a hurry taking this photo so it’s not hanging properly on the right side.)

I will include a link to this curtain, just in case anyone wants it, but I warn you that you must have a sense of humor to appreciate it. Near the bottom there are some definite misprints. Mostly it’s a couple of fish that are missing pieces of their bodies, but then there is this.

It’s close to the bottom, so as far as I know no one else has ever even noticed it, but every time I see this bear peeking at me above a wall of water I chuckle. My sense of humor is just quirky enough that I didn’t even consider returning the curtain; I keep it as a sort of trophy of silliness.

Finally, I offer these two photos to share my personal bathroom hack. Moving from a full-size bath to a shower stall left me with extra shower curtain hooks, and I discovered that they are a tremendous help. The hook on the shower head holds my bath brush and scrubby without taking up anywhere near as much space as the shower caddy I’d brought with me from the other house. The two hooks I keep on my shower rod (I actually store them both where the right one is) are ideal for hanging wet swimsuits or other things that need to drip dry. I have thanked myself many times for not tossing the “extra” hooks when I was purging.

And that’s it for the bath!
Yeele Fish Shower Curtains Blue Ocean Under The Sea Shower Curtain

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

Get Experiencing the Bible Anywhere

I’m excited to announce that the ebook version of Experiencing the Bible is now available pretty much anywhere you buy ebooks. This JUST happened, so if you’ve looked for it before on Kobo or any of the other sources, go do a search. You should find me!

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

MRS. HENDEE.

I am their mother, who shall bar me from them.
                                                                       Shakespeare

On the burning of Royalton, Vermont, by the Indians, in 1776, Mrs. Hendee, of that place, exhibited a praiseworthy and heroic character. The attack was sudden, and her husband being absent in the Vermont regiment, and she being in the field, the Indians seized her children, carried them across White river, at that place perhaps an hundred yards wide and quite deep for fording, and placed them under the keepers having the other persons they had collected, thirty or forty in number, in charge. On discovering the fate of her children, Mrs. Hendee resolutely dashed into the river, waded through, and fearlessly entering the Indian camp, regardless of their tomahawks menacingly flourished round her head, boldly demanded the release of her little ones, and persevered in her alternate upbraidings and supplications, till her request was granted. She then carried her children back through the river and landed them in safety on the other bank. But not content with what she had done, like a patriot, as she was, she immediately returned, begged for the release of the children of others; again was rewarded with success, and brought two or three more away; again returned and again succeeded, till she had rescued the whole fifteen of her neighbors’ children who had been thus snatched away from their distracted parents. On her last return to the camp of the enemy, the Indians were so struck with her conduct that one of them declared that so brave a squaw deserved to be carried across the river, and offered to take her on his back and carry her over. She, in the same spirit, accepted the offer, mounted the back of the gallant savage, was carried to the opposite bank, where she collected her rescued troop of children, and hastened away to restore them to their over-joyed parents.

______

Excerpted from Noble Deeds of American Women
(Patriotic Series for Boys and Girls)
Edited by J. Clement
——
With an Introduction by Mrs. L. H. Sigourney
Illustrated
BOSTON: Lee and Shepard, Publishers
Entered by Act of Congress, in the year of 1851,
by E. H. Derby and Co., in the Clerk’s Office of the Northern District of New York
______

My Legacy Bibles Plan

The Inspire Bible

If you know me at all, you know I’m serious about the Bible. My current “readthrough” Bible is filled, almost cover to cover, with extensive notes like the ones you see here. My original plan was to give this Bible to one of my grandchildren as soon as I finish the readthrough, and get started on the next Bible right away, intending it for another grandchild. (It’s funny; I had never even heard the phrase “Legacy Bible” until after I decided I would pass it along.) The thing is, once I really thought about how long it has taken me to work my way through this Bible, I knew it would take too many years to accomplish what I’d been considering.

So, after backing up and thinking it through, I devised a new plan. Instead, I would purchase three journaling Bibles and start transferring my notes from scratch. Doing this had one distinct advantage: I could make a point of printing instead of writing in cursive, since cursive seems to have fallen by the wayside and at least one of the “kids” is unable to read it. (Yep, as you can see in the above photo, much of what I’ve written is in cursive.)

During my research, I stumbled across this treasure.

This is the Interleaved edition of the New King James Version (NKJV) of the Bible. Interleaved means they’ve inserted blank sheets of paper between the printed pages. I’ve heard of Bibles being done this way historically but had no idea any publisher was offering them today. When I found it, I got seriously excited! This Bible has enough journaling space to hold not only my notes, but those of my grandkids as well, so it can continue to serve them throughout their lives.

I ordered the Bibles in leather, because I truly do want them to last, and while waiting for them to arrive I purchased a specific set of pens (Papermate Inkjoy) that I will use in all three Bibles. I don’t color code, exactly, or not consistently. I use the various colors more to mark different sections as well as to create a clearer indication of which notes go with which verses.

I also created guide sheets like the ones I used a hundred years ago when I did calligraphy. These sheets, when placed under the page I’m writing on, help me maintain consistency in my writing.

I speak as if I’m actively working on this. I’m not yet; I’ve actually managed all of two pages at this point.

I still have a little bit of both the Old and New Testament studies to complete in my current Bible, and I’ve decided to wait until I finish them before I officially start the project. Looking at what I’ve managed so far while working on these three all at once (because I want consistency and it saves time), I calculate it’s going to take me about three years to finish them, but that’s a lot less than if I’d followed my original plan.

I’m trying to ignore the fact that, since he’s already engaged, my grandson could conceivably have presented me with a great-grandchild by the time I hand him his copy. That’s just too much for me to handle.

But yeah, I’m excited about working on what will be the single most valuable gift I give three of my favorite people.

And here are your Amazon Affiliate links for both the Bible and pens. As an associate, I may make money off qualified purchases.

NKJV, Interleaved Bible, Journal Edition, Genuine Leather, Brown, Red Letter, Comfort Print: The Ultimate Bible Journaling Experience

Paper Mate InkJoy 100RT Retractable Ballpoint Pens, Medium Point (1.0mm), Assorted, 20 Count

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

Tiny House Part 11: The Bathroom Tour Continues

So last week I talked about the pictures over the toilet. The frames are cheap things I picked up and spray painted. The mats are from the craft store. And, believe it or not, the photos were printed on a copier because budget was a huge issue back when I first needed them to decorate my work office years ago.

You’ll see that they built in shelves for me on the adjoining wall. The teal things on the top shelf are toilet paper rolls wrapped in tissue paper. My decorator friend recommended it as an attractive way to store extra rolls, and I adapted her plan readily because the tissue paper also protects the paper from absorbing the yuk that’s thrown into the air when you flush the toilet. (Don’t know what I’m talking about? Google “toilet aerosol’ and prepare to cringe.) I also put the lid down on the toilet before flushing to minimize the impact. Studies show that the spray is twelve times worse with the lid up.

Knowing this has a lot to do with many of the details of this small room. Since taking this picture, I’ve pulled half of my towels. I only need a couple readily available, and that gave me an extra shelf for toilet paper storage.

This photo shows all of the built ins, and you can see I use baskets that hold and mostly protect a lot as well. The one on top contains my makeup and all that goes with it. The bottom one contains toilet paper in thoi photo, but when I moved those rolls to the other shelf I ended up using it for a variety of necessities that I wanted to keep handy. Because these things are stored in the bathroom, I need to remember to be extra scrupulous about things like cleaning my makeup brushes.

Random note: I took these pictures without thinking professionally. So yeah, the deodorant you see by the towels is Native and the little spray thing on the next shelf up is Poo-Pourri that a friend gave me. I never think to use it. I mean, you have to sort of plan ahead, you know? Still, if you do use it the stuff works great!

My friend made this peg rack to hang above the built ins. It was one of the many little things she did, or instructed me to do, to provide more storage and ready access to the things I need. Long pegs hold my towel, and the cotton T I use for my hair hangs fine on the decorative knobs she selected just for me. The two hats don’t get worn often, but store better here than anywhere else, and the jewelry you see is pretty much all I own after some serious jewelry downsizing. At one point, I had massive amounts of jewelry of all types, but now I mostly wear a sterling silver cross I was given a few years ago and just take down one of these pieces when an outfit demands it.

This medicine shelf is one of those ideas I would never have come up with on my own. I’d kept these things in a totally unattractive tote that literally fit nowhere. The day she showed up with this shelf the tote was sitting on top of my fridge, which greatly offended her artistic sensibilities. (I say that very tongue-in-cheek.) I would never have considered open shelving for these items even though I intentionally requested open shelving for the rest of the apartment. This thing is perfect. Once a week, I pull down my regular supplements and pills and go to my desk where I refill my weekly pills containers I told you about previously. If I need something, anything, I can get my hands on it easily, which was great when I cut myself a couple of weeks ago and needed a bandage.

One of the reasons this shelf works so well is the height at which she mounted it. Because it’s mostly above eye level, in this small room you tend not to notice it. Then she mounted my peacock picture beneath it, which also helps draw the eye away from the bottles and boxes.

I’ve had a thing for peacocks for years, but after seeing those peacocks during that cruise I’ve loved them even more, so this piece quickly found its home right here. It fits the theme, fits the wall size, and as a bonus it gives you something other than a white wall to look at while you’re seated. I laughed when she pointed out that detail, but quickly realized just what she was saying. It is an essential part of the decor.

We’ve made our way three quarters around the room. Next week we’ll finish off with the shower. Oh, how I love my shower!

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

WIDOW STOREY.*

Stick to your aim; the mongrel’s hold will slip,
But only crow-bars loose the bull-dog’s lip;
Small as he looks, the jaw that never yields,
Drags down the bellowing monarch of the fields.
                                                                        Holmes

The first man who commenced a settlement in the town of Salisbury, Vermont, on the Otter creek, was Amos Storey, who, in making an opening in the heart of the wilderness on the right of land to which the first settler was entitled, was killed by the fall of a tree. His widow, who had been left in Connecticut, immediately resolved to push into the wilderness, with her ten small children, to take his place and preserve and clear up his farm. And this bold resolution she carried out to the letter, in spite of every difficulty, hardship and danger which for years constantly beset her in her solitary location in the woods. Acre after acre of the dense and dark forest melted away before her axe, which she handled with the dexterity of the most experienced chopper. The logs and bushes were piled and burnt by her own strong and untiring hand: crops were raised, by which, with the fruits of her fishing and unerring rifle, she supported herself and her hardy brood of children. As a place of refuge from the assaults of Indians or dangerous wild beasts, she dug out an underground room, into which, through a small entrance made to open under an overhanging thicket in the bank of the stream, she nightly retreated with her children. And here she continued to reside, thus living and thus laboring, unassisted, till, by her own hand and the help which her boys soon began to afford her, she cleared up a valuable farm and placed herself in independent circumstances in life. 

* For this anecdote and that of Mrs. Hendee, we are indebted to the Hon. Daniel P. Thompson, of Montpelier, author of ” The Green Mountain Boys,” ” Locke Amsden,” &c. In a note to the author, in a letter which contained these anecdotes, he appropriately observes that “the women of the Green Mountains deserve as much credit for their various displays of courage, endurance and patriotism, in the early settlement of their State, as was ever awarded to their sex for similar exhibitions in any part of the world. In the controversy with New York and New Hampshire, which took the form of war in many instances; in the predatory Indian incursions, and in the war of the Revolution, they often displayed a capacity for labor and endurance, a spirit and firmness in the hour of danger, and a resolution and hardihood in defending their families, and their threatened land against all enemies, whether domestic or foreign, that would have done honor to the dames of Sparta.”

______

Excerpted from Noble Deeds of American Women
(Patriotic Series for Boys and Girls)
Edited by J. Clement
——
With an Introduction by Mrs. L. H. Sigourney
Illustrated
BOSTON: Lee and Shepard, Publishers
Entered by Act of Congress, in the year of 1851,
by E. H. Derby and Co., in the Clerk’s Office of the Northern District of New York
______