What Did You Say Was in the Meat Case?

Diary Entry - January 2, 1960- We went to Muskogee to see about vet loan. I found it in the little vintage diary given to Mother, Bernyce Smith Gates, for Christmas 1936 from the Belford Grade School teachers, Mr. and Mrs. W.C. Tautfast.

My maternal grandparents, Calvin Callcayah Smith and Gladys Rainey Smith, my parents, and I lived together. In 1959, my parents purchased the farm where Mother now lives. Since my grandpa served in WWI and my father fought in WWII, the veterans administration seemed a good source for a loan to build a new home, which became the pink house where Mother lives. (Mother added they did not get a VA loan.)

I was only 3 and 1/2 years old. Mother characterized me as “active.” We almost always ate in the car or in a park if we were away from home. I think my liveliness contributed to that decision. It was fine with me because I loved the park and all the play equipment.

Since it was winter, the park was not an option. But we could purchase items we seldom bought – lunch meat, maybe some potato chips, store-bought buttermilk and Hostess chocolate cupcakes. My family found a small grocery store near the veterans administration building with these delicacies along with a loaf of bread.

Excited to be doing something out of the ordinary, I was bebopping around the store staying close to Mother. We approached the meat case. I screeched to a stop. I experienced the memory from that day that lingers most vividly in my mind.

On center stage in the meat case was a dead opossum for sale. It was obvious enough that a little 3½ year old country girl knew exactly what it was.

It took the edge off my excitement about the “in-the-car picnic.” I didn’t share the same culinary palate as Granny on the iconic The Beverly Hillbillies. I am not a huge fan of the vintage show, but I know Granny’s “go-to” main dish seemed to be “Possum Stew.”

 I remembered a pictorial family book entitled Julia’s Family (Julia Steely Smith was Mother’s paternal grandma) mailed to me from Elizabeth Purcell Hammer, one of Mother’s cousin on the Smith side. She bequeathed it to me because of our shared interest in family history. This Steely family picture below appeared on the title page. The seated older man is Elijah Green Steely, Sr., Grandpa’s maternal grandfather. Ironically, the Steely family moved from the Ozark Mountains in Missouri into the Cherokee Nation in the early 1870s just as the fictional Clampett family featured in The Beverly Hillbillies also hailed from Ozark Mountains. Maybe my DNA might carry a hankerin’ for the marsupial.

Identified as "Julia's Family" - her parents, her brothers, and their families
Source - Karen Steely @ 1-888-338-4372
karen@the pastmatters.com
www.thepastmatters.com

Many times, scripture comes to mind as I write. The account of Peter’s vision of all types of animals, whether four-footed or winged, from Acts 10 appeared in my mind. Peter's vision had been sent by God to alter Peter’s learned attitude about the eating protocol his Jewish family faithfully obeyed. Yet God's purpose was far greater in its reach to correct Peter's mindset on the status of the ethnicity of people and their acceptability to God—thus preparing him to be a catalyst in spreading the Gospel to all people. Here is some of Peter’s sermon after his experience:

In truth I perceive that God shows no partiality. But in every nation whoever fears Him and works righteousness is accepted by Him…Jesus Christ – He is Lord of all - …To Him all the prophets witness that through His name, whoever believes in Him will receive remission of sins. Acts 10:34-36; 43

The January Night Bob Didn't Come In

                 For almost two years and eight months, Bob, the orange and white Manx cat, slept indoors. First, he and his litter mates slept in a small crate that Angie had given us. Then we upgraded Tailer and him to a “kitty condo.” One night Bob rebelled by howling and climbing the condo walls. He usually never made a sound. Finally, Mother said, “Put him out.” He and Tailer found “digs” to their liking on the screened-in back porch.

                Each morning, the two cats awaited eagerly for their morning feeding. As soon as the other cats had been fed, I “sprang” Bob and Tailer. They loved going outside. They were out and about most of the day – hunting, exploring, and sleeping, often high in the Chinese elm tree. When they heard the backdoor open as I exited to feed cattle in late afternoon, they ran to the outside door, waiting impatiently to rush into their feed bowls.

                When 19 months old, Tailer lost his life by running in front of a car. We worried a bit about Bob since he and Tailer had been inseparable each evening. That first night I allowed Bob to play about 20 minutes in the hall of the house after he ate. He adjusted to life without Tailer much better than we thought.

                Bob loved to hunt. He never fought with the other cats, but he always practiced “social distancing” with them. I observed him sitting regally on the sidewalk. A younger cat walked up and intended to lay down near Bob. Bob stretched his right front paw out as if to say, “That’s close enough.”

                Mother laughed each night during his post-eating play time. I always wanted to hold him. He tolerated it for about 45 seconds. Then he began to squirm slightly. Not wanting to agitate a calm, compliant cat, I put him down so he could run and play. Mother chuckled and commented many nights, “He’s saying That’s enough.”

                Four years ago, this month, I fed Bob and did a couple of chores outside after feeding the other cats. Upon returning to the house, I opened the door and Bob zoomed out—ready for the day’s adventures. But that was the last time I saw him.

                Anyone who has had a cherished animal disappear knows the denial one experiences as looking and calling continues. After calling Bob just a few times, I sensed he was not coming back. Only a few times as a kitten had I needed to call him. Bob, the Manx cat, was always ready to come in for his “groceries.”

                As I prepared for bed that evening, the words of Jesus from Luke 12:6 came to mind. These words are embedded in a passage teaching of the absolute necessity of respecting or fearing God. God must be revered just as we revered our own fathers. Our fathers provided, loved, and encouraged us as we matured. Most of us had a deep-seated understanding of our fathers’ mandates for doing what would build our characters and teach us to fear the consequences that follow rebellious disobedience of standards held by our families.

                Yet this stern warning is followed by the comforting verse that enabled me to work through my sadness that night. Luke 12:6 reads: Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God?

                Jesus was teaching his disciples or “My friends” as He addressed them in verse 4. Jesus said, “You are my friends if you do what I command.” (John 15:14).  The Apostle John clarified in his first letter God’s first command with this verse, “And this is His command: to believe in the name of His Son, Jesus Christ, and to love one another as He commanded us.”

                With the backdrop of a deep-seated belief that the fear of God guarded lives against wreckage, Jesus mentioned the tiny, insignificant sparrow, but He said, “Not one is forgotten before God.” The comforting thought of the all- knowing awareness by God of Bob, the missing Manx cat, gave me a calmness to rest in His care of Bob and me. To this day, sometimes during a stress-filled time or a time of grief or distress, I recall the assurance God gave that January evening, reminding I am never out of His care nor the people or animals I love.

To read about the early beginnings of Bob, the Manx cat, click on the following link:   https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/07/the-orphan-kittens-almost-90-days-old.html               

To read more blog postings featuring the orange and white Manx cat, Bob, put "Manx" in the search box at the upper left of this post.

Dad's Old Hammer

A few months ago, I discovered Dad’s old toolbox had leaked, allowing some rusting on some of the tools. I began a cleanup on the salvageable tools using various combinations of vinegar, baking soda, and even salt.

Dad’s old “red” handled hammer brought back so many memories of his sinewy arms pounding nails over the years. After cleaning out the entire toolbox, I left Dad’s hammer on top for quick access since I use a hammer frequently. I wish I was as capable as he was with the hammer.

                Recently, his “red” handled hammer came to mind one morning as I read the Bible. (I read one chapter per morning. If I read more than that, it seems I fail to gain the spiritual nourishment needed.) That morning I read Jeremiah 23. Verse 29 says, “Is not My word like a fire?” says the Lord, “And like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces?” In the last phrase, the word “hammer” is compared to the Word of God. The previous phrase likens the Word of God to a fire.

                This verse sent me to commentaries and studies by scholars with tremendous knowledge and many years of devotion to the study of God’s Word. Without fail, they compared the purification of fire to the power of God’s Word to extract from the diligent and obedient reader falsely held opinions and thoughts in the same way fire purifies gold of the dross in it.

                Then I delved into what these devoted researchers of the Scripture had written about the hammer. Many stated the hammer illustrated how God’s Word breaks the proud, hardhearted person into one with a humbled heart open to the precepts of God.

                Interestingly, Strong’s Hebrew Dictionary defined “hammer” as “forge hammer.” I remember Mr. Tanner being identified as a “blacksmith.” A few times as a child, I stood close to Dad’s overalls leg as I observed the tools of the blacksmith while he visited in the blacksmith shop on Main Street in Ralston. Heat and the forge hammer were used in conjunction with each other.

                God explains the purpose of the Word of God as fire and a hammer because His word purifies and remolds readers who ingest His truth with a heart ready to obey. This occurs when we allow His Word to “burn out” ungodly beliefs as fire would and permit His Spirit to “hammer and reshape” our rebellious attitudes into ones that wholeheartedly and humbly embrace God’s truth.

The Bible records numerous passages about God’s slowness to anger, forgiving sins, but He will by no means clear the guilty.(Numbers 14:18) My father quoted from the poem, Retribution by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow this stanza:

Though the mills of God grind slowly,

Yet they grind exceeding small;

Though with patience He stands waiting,

With exactness grinds He all.

Matthew Henry stated, “The word of God is no smooth, lulling, deceitful message. And by its faithfulness it may certainly be distinguished from false doctrines.” May we daily study God’s Word diligently with an open heart to His Holy Spirit changing us by His “fire and hammer” to conform us to His likeness.

Lord, each time I turn in Your scriptures to read and study, please make me willing and open to Your work as You use the Bible as a fire and hammer in my life. Burn out the dross from my life and hammer and mold my life to conform to the image of Your Son, Jesus. In His Name, Amen.

A final note on the Old Testament book of Jeremiah – Jeremiah was the final prophet to prophesy before the fall of the city of Jerusalem. The refusal of citizens to listen to the Word of God led to the destruction of the once glorious kingdom blessed by God during the days of godly leaders. For over 200 years, God sent prophets with warnings to listen and obey His word but the great kingdom of Judah, with its capital at Jerusalem, fell to the conquering army of the Babylonians about 2600 years ago according to historical documentation.

January 7, 2021 - A Historic Day for Mother

 Once again, my mother's conviction that the Bend in rural Osage County  is one of the best places to live has been reinforced. With friends in metro areas unsure of COVID-19 vaccination timelines for elderly inoculation, Mother is thankful for her experience this week. 

Last week, Dee and Bill Bledsoe, our fellow Benders, contacted us with news of COVID-19 vaccination availability for those age 65 and in Fairfax, our closest healthcare providers. I thanked Dee and Bill profusely for thinking of Mother but wondered whether my overly cautious mother would consider this. 

A somber, but cute school
 picture of Bill Bledsoe
 at age 8 from Grandma
Gladys Smith's photo
collection. On the back, he
had written "Billy Bledsoe."

Ben, my brother-in-law and nurse practioner, has made house calls to maintain Mother’s health, but since I knew he was very busy seeing many patients per day, I contacted my sister. She contacted Mother to say even though Ben had provided the exact type of flu shot she needed right in her home; the COVID-19 vaccine was being rolled out solely through the state department of health. He advised looking into the over-65-inoculation effort in Fairfax at the Robert Clark Family Health Center.

We learned from relatives that people received their first round shot to combat contracting the virus. With a hopeful heart, I saw Mother move a bit toward at least considering receiving the vaccine.

On Sunday, she agreed that would be a good idea to call about the local inoculations. I phoned and found out they were still being given to the over-65-crowd and Mother would be contacted. Upon returning from cattle feeding, I was pleasantly surprised that she had received an appointment callback for Thursday at noon.

My sister and I accompanied her since Mother had been homebound since mid-June. We were concerned her mobility had lessened a bit as her walker is used more due to her horrible right knee.

Mother, for a 96-year-old, sailed through her preparation. Angie arrived. Mother managed quite handily her back steps with the walker.

Upon arriving at the Robert Clark Family Health Center, Justin Brown met us in the foyer. I quickly introduced him to Mother and Angie as he took temps, explaining Justin and I spent a productive year together when he was a fun third grader to teach. She received her shot from Lindsey Looney. Of course, I had to make Mother aware of Lindsey’s ancestry. We waited the required 15 minutes. No reaction. Hooray!

Third Graders in  1998-1999 Class of Bernadean Gates
Front Row - Natasha Murray, Josh Corley, Thomas Schaffer, Jessica Dummer, David Miville, Bob ____
2nd Row - Breanna Ferriel, Carrie Roberts, Bo Harrison, Kelly LaRue, Jamie Combs, Kelsie Hightower
3rd Row - Clifton Hall, Maci Heppel, Jobie Renfro, Tanner Marston, Sydney Franks, Logan Dilbeck
Top Row - Zach McGee, Talby Boone, Jennifer AmericanHorse, Joseph Smith, Charlie Dawn Crabtree,
Last but not least in the upper right corner, Justin Brown  
Photography by Blunck's Photography
So many of these students are responsible parents, productive citizens making a difference for good in their communities, and what a joy to see!

            As I reflected on the success of the day during our pandemic, I recalled Mother’s father, as a healthy 24-year-old World War I medic based in St. Paul, Minnesota, contracted the Spanish flu and was placed in the area for the dying, beyond hope for recovery. God healed him miraculously.   

            Thankfully, Mother faced nothing like Grandpa did. At 96, God  granted mercy and grace to Mother, keeping her healthy as she practiced social distancing and judicious handwashing. Now she had been able to get the first dose of the vaccine.

           How we appreciate friends, neighbors, and relatives who told and encouraged her to pursue inoculation!. Helpful local health care professionals enabled her reception of the vaccine to become reality.           

            What a wonderful example of how we can be transformed from a death sentence to a life of purpose, free of guilt and an assurance of forgiveness for our sins! All humans are under the sentence of death because we are all sinners, choosing our own way instead of God’s way of hope, forgiveness, and life. God did not leave us in this helpless situation. He provided His Son, Jesus, as the perfect sacrifice, taking our place on the cross, and offering His gift of salvation and life.

            May these words of Jesus from John 5:24 prompt us to receive the only inoculation for our sinful state - Jesus. If we have received Jesus, let us be sure to share the good news of Jesus with others, just as Bill and Dee let Mother know of her opportunity to receive her vaccination.

Very truly, I tell you, whoever hears My word and believes Him who sent Me has eternal life, and will not be judged but has crossed over from death to life. John 5:24 – NIV

Changing the Last Digit Is Easy...

…But Leaving Behind the Old Year Can Be A Challenge

                At 96, research would categorize Mother, Bernyce Smith Gates, as resilient. Resiliency and flexibility have been defined as traits common to longevity. 2020 has challenged Mother.

Dad and Mother visiting with Billy 
at their 60th Anniversary in 2008 
photograph by Catherine Marie 
Photography

                It began with the shocking news of the death of William Wayne Webb of the Masham Community in Pawnee County on September 27 of 2020. Mother knew his parents, Joy (Brewer) and Bill Webb even before they were married. She had known Billy all his life. She recalled our excitement to attend his marriage to Janet Higgins.

                Then in October, the news came of Ann Dooley Brien’s serious illness with the horrible COVID-19 ultimately diagnosed. Ann, the youngest of Parris and Effie McKinney Dooley’s children, grew up as a Bender. Mother was ten years old and in school at Belford Grade School in the Bend with Brice, Junebie, Maggie, and Lynn Dooley when their baby sister, Ann, was born. (The photo of Ann is from her Belford Grade School group photo from 1949. Photo courtesy of James Whiles.)

Sharon's beautiful original RHS
senior portrait.

                In mid-November, we received word to pray for Sharon White Gibson, our nearest neighbor, who had COVID-19. Not only was Sharon, a life-long neighbor, but she had been Dad’s faithful RN while he was under home health care for the two years following his first stroke. He could always call her name. They could visit about the “old days” in the Bend. What a blow to learn of Sharon’s death the Sunday following Thanksgiving. Immediately, we thought of her boys sorrowing along with the rest of her family.

Even though Amber was a
grafted-in Bender, she had
those character traits that
made her fit in perfectly.

                We had only known briefly of Amber’s (Hightower) illness until we received word of her death. On the first Monday of December, how shocked we were to learn she was gone. She loved her family, her neighbors, and her friends. Amber loved to do for others, much like her mother, Jean Stoneman Fuller. Once again, Mother had such concern for Joe, her husband, their children, grandchildren, and the rest of the family as they trudged “through the valley of the shadow of death” (Amber's pretty photo can be accessed at www.hunsakerwootenfuneralhome.com)

Vickie, Ronnie, and Marian Gail Rice with my dad, 
Edmund Gates, Jr. - taken in  the spring of 1950.

              Just before Christmas, we received the news that Ronnie Rice had tested positive for the dreaded virus. Even though the prognosis was dire, Mother encouraged fervent prayer for his healing. Then on December 23, Rick Rice informed us of Ronnie’s death. As an only child, Mother was closer to her “Rice” cousins. She and her family celebrated holidays with them. She remembered the joy over Ronnie’s birth. Mother also recalled Ronnie’s fall from a horse that precipitated his head injury. My maternal grandparents, Calvin and Gladys Smith, accompanied Elmer and Ruby, his parents, as he was transported to St. Anthony’s Hospital in Oklahoma City. Ronnie was in a coma for 14 days. He was hospitalized for over a month. Grandma, as a trained nurse always believed a patient should not be left alone, so she stayed during his entire hospitalization. His father’s youngest sister, Dean Rice (Littlestar), stayed with Grandma also. With this backdrop, Mother said consistently during Ronnie’s battle with the Corona Virus, “Ronnie was injured so badly. He had come through so much.” (Both of the school pictures of Ronnie were among several that my grandma had in the photograph collection.)

Ronald Nathan Rice taken
on December 11, 1957

With these recent deaths of so many with ties to Mother, “turning the page” becomes difficult. The only commonality that makes these deaths bearable is each of these had made a profession of faith in Jesus. Another word for “profession” is an “affidavit.” They were staking their lives in this world and the next on the Son of God, who loved us and gave Himself up for us. (Ephesians 5:2).

                As I draw this bittersweet posting to a close, I find myself turning to the scripture in 2 Peter 1:10. I like the down-to-earth way The Message presented it. It says:

So, friends, confirm God’s invitation to you, His choice of you. Don’t put it off; do it now. Do this, and you’ll have your life on a firm footing, the streets paved and the way wide open into the eternal kingdom of our Master and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Peter wrote this to his friends who may have been “riding the fence” about a relationship with Jesus or one who said “I’m doing the best I can. Isn’t that enough?”

Mother spoke after each death, “This virus is an attack on us all.” She lamented living through the Great Depression and then World War II only to have a direct assault on us from a pandemic. Many of us look to the day we can receive a vaccine for it. Yet none of us can be inoculated against death, but Jesus promised in John 11:25, “I am the resurrection and the life, He who believes in Me, though he die, he shall live.” May we all follow Peter’s advice and have that profession or affidavit that guarantees we are one of His and will live in His eternal kingdom.