The All-Important Easter Photographs

 How many times are holiday photos next to impossible to snap? Easter 1958 seemed to be one of those times. 

Mother recalled what an active, but happy little one I was. I remembered car trips with my grandparents in the back seat and my father driving as Mother sat in the passenger seat. Of course, child restraints in a vehicle were unheard of in the late 1950s and early 1960s. Many excursions found me climbing numerous times over the front seat to get to my grandparents and back. Finally, my patient, but firm, mother indicated, “No more. Stay up here.”

Perusing the photos from my second Easter revealed a somber two-year-old in the more formal Easter poses. Yet one blurry snapshot showed me, in my terrible twos, with an expression of delight, hugging tightly an apparently new stuffed bunny doll. Probably Mother tried to get a better candid shot but couldn’t get me to hold still long enough for that. Videos were non-existent for our family in those days. (As I got a couple of years older, I remember being told the expense of photographs, from the film purchase to the cost of film developing. Wow! Have times changed? Now we just erase those imperfect shots and take another one!)

Looking at the "Easter family portrait," I was a subdued child between my smiling parents with Dad holding my left hand and his right hand cuddled me on his right knee so my grandma, Gladys Rainey Smith, could quickly take the photograph. I couldn’t muster a smile since I was concentrating so strongly on keeping every muscle still to ensure a good picture! Truthfully, my serious countenance probably denoted my slight displeasure at not getting my way. (How thankful I am that both of my parents continued to build structure into my daily life to direct my excessive activeness into purposeful life responsibilities so that I learned to smile during needful tasks that I didn't really want to do.)

Old photographs tell remarkable stories. This photograph of my parents and me from the most festive day of the year reveals what a special observation it was. All three of us are wearing hats. Dad and Mother have on their suits with him sporting the necessary tie. My frilly dress with its full skirt held out by a can-can exuded the joyfulness of the day. Dad had purchased corsages for Mother, Grandma, and me. Mine was a replica of a bunny with stiff ribbon forming its ears.

Always egg decorating and subsequent hunting, sometimes cuddly stuffed animals, new Easter frocks (my grandfather, Calvin Callcayah Smith always referred to our new Easter dresses in that way), and usually a special candy treat highlighted memories from the spring season’s holidays. Yet always we knew in our home, the main reason for Easter was the resurrection of Jesus. Dad most usually referred to Sunday as “the Lord’s Day.” That moniker for Sunday originated with the first Easter.

The first day of the week began to be called The Lord’s Day following the resurrection of Jesus on a Sunday. Each of the four gospels record the women approaching the tomb early on the first day of the week, only to be startled to find the stone rolled away and alarmed at the empty tomb. Later that day, in the evening, the frightened disciples hid in a locked room to avoid the same fate of their Master. Suddenly, the resurrected Christ appeared in the middle of them and said to them, “Peace be with you.”

Each Lord’s Day provides an opportunity to reboot with a group of people who like myself needs to be reminded only Jesus, the Prince of Peace, can bring lasting calm and assurance to our hearts. Each day as we spend time with Him in His Word and prayer, we sense a deep-seated awareness that the peace of the Perfect One who endured shame and pain for our sins can permeate our day. How many times during a chaotic moment, following a cruel outburst aimed at us, or a sudden earth-shattering crisis must we stop and recall the words of Christ as recorded in John 14:27 –

Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you.

I do not give peace to you as the world gives.

Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

As we celebrate the day Jesus came back to life after being sacrificed willingly for our sins on the cross, may we renew our commitment to daily turn to Him for the only peace that will enable us to navigate a world full of fear, uncertainty, and turmoil.

Lord, I trust what You did on the cross to pay for my sins. I receive the gift of salvation that only You can give even though I don’t deserve Your forgiveness. I know I can do nothing to earn eternal life from You. Each day, may I look to Your Word to know Your plan for me, choosing to be aware of Your peace. Give me courage and strength to resist the incessant pull of society’s unrelenting demand to compromise and cave in to a destructive thought pattern—realizing that prevalent damaging thinking relegates me to stress, depression, with the constant search for acceptance yet never attaining it and being left with a sickening feeling of inadequacy in most areas of my life. Jesus, just as You brought peace to the frightened disciples on that first Easter evening, I commit to hear and live by Your words of “Peace be with You,” even if I have to “restart” (confess my wrong thinking and renew my pledge to rely on You and obey Your words) frequently throughout the day.

Celebrating St. Patrick's Day with Julia Irene Gates Newland

        My dad’s only living sibling announced to her son, Patrick, her desire for her 90th St. Patrick’s Day. She wanted a hat to celebrate. Patrick, her son, chose the best hat in the store. Her photograph with Patrick reveals her delight at his choice for her.

I am indebted to my sister for this great photo from 
Pat's Facebook post.

Rory photographed at my
 parents' 60th anniversary
by Cathy Gates LeForce.

        I loved the photo of Aunt Julia and the brightness of her eyes. I never see her eyes whether in person or in family photos without remembering a Gates-Rainey family story that happened in Texas but began in the Bend. I posted this special account eight years ago.

Only Julia would be the one of my father's siblings to connect with a Rainey while living deep in the heart of Texas. Julia's boys were playing in the neighborhood in Garland soon after moving there. Rory, her second from the youngest, appeared at Marilyn Rainey Firestone Brager's door with her son, Craig. Marilyn said to Rory, "I knew someone with eyes just like yours, but they were from Oklahoma." Rory, never at a loss for words, immediately responded, "My grandma lives in Oklahoma." Soon Marilyn and Julia were renewing their friendship that had begun decades earlier in the Big Bend. Marilyn, my mother's cousin, had lived for some time with my mother's family. Dad's response was "It's a small world" when Grandma Gates called and told him of the connection that Rory made.     

Craig Firestone in his youth
from my mother's photo
collection

Marilyn Rainey in early
college days - from my
maternal grandma's picture
collection.

Julia with Rory, Mike, Dan, and Pat at 1999 Gates Reunion

       Aunt Julia was the 10^th child born to my grandparents, Edmund, Sr. and Mamie Irene Tripp Gates in 1933. My grandma gave Aunt Julia her own middle name “Irene” for Julia’s middle name, too. Incidentally, she named each of her sons with monikers that are linked to famed Irishmen – Michael, an Irish politician, Daniel, a notable Irish musician, Rory, a well-known golfer, and of course, Patrick bears the name of Ireland's patron saint.

           The celebration that Aunt Julia wanted to recognize is one of the most misunderstood observances. The confusion stems from not knowing who Patrick truly was. Patrick was born to Roman parents when Rome ruled Britain as a colony in the 5^th century. He was kidnapped in his teens by Irish marauders and forced into slavery as a shepherd for around six years until he miraculously escaped but not before returning wholeheartedly to the faith he had been taught as a child. Upon returning to Britannia, Patrick felt a calling to return and share the gospel he had embraced while enslaved on the Emerald Isle. He is credited with leading Ireland to Christianity and away from paganism. Below are a couple my favorite quotes from Patrick which he wrote over 1500 years ago and yet it still makes me in awe of God’s wonderful work in the heart of a privileged young man while in bondage to fierce captors was change by the power of Christ.

The Lord opened the understanding of my unbelieving heart,

so that I should recall my sins. 

Christ beside me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,

        Christ within me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me.

Remembering Two March Birthdays and a Strong Relationship

          This past week marked the 156^th year since Rosa Jarrell Rainey was born on March 7, 1868. She was the beloved maternal grandma of my mother, Bernyce Smith Gates. Mother lived near her dear grandma all her life, usually within walking distance.

Rosa Jarrell Rainey

          On July 23, 1923, Rosa and her husband, Bill, gained a son-in-law when my maternal grandma, Gladys Rainey married Calvin Callcayah Smith, of Cherokee descent and an original allottee on the Dawes Roll. I understand my great-grandparents had reservations about their daughter entering an interracial marriage. Rosa had experiences that shaped her opinions when they lived near the Seminoles in Indian Territory near Konawa, Indian Territory. (To read more go to: https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2016/05/when-raineys-lived-among-seminoles.html)

          My great-grandparents instantly loved my mother when she was born on October 17, 1924. They began learning to accept my grandfather. Then Rosa Rainey buried her husband in 1931, after he succumbed following a brief illness. Grandma actively began helping her mother and her visually impaired sister, Alice, who lived with her mother. Likely it was Grandma's way of working through her own grief.  

Grandma, Grandpa, and Mother at the
new house on the Oliver Morton place.

          Grandpa with his understated humor and helpfulness, endeared himself to the woman he referred to as Granny. Grandpa and his mother-in-law would load a couple of cases of eggs in the back of her Model A two-seater Ford that had belonged to her deceased husband. According to Mother, her grandmother never learned to drive but thoroughly enjoyed going to town, usually on Saturday, as my grandpa drove her car with her riding in the front seat and the back seat filled with eggs to sell. The two chuckled about filling the back of her little car with as many eggs as possible. Mother reminded me that a case held 30 dozen or 360 eggs. She said usually in that little car they could transport two cases or 720 eggs!

          As I remembered Grandpa’s upcoming birthdate on March 13, I recalled he was born in 1894, to a pureblood Cherokee father whose first language was Cherokee, and his first language written and read had been created by Sequoyah and embraced by the Cherokee Nation about the time Grandpa’s grandfather for whom he was named was born. Grandpa grew up in the Cherokee Nation and lived there until shortly after his father died from pneumonia. Then Grandpa relocated to Osage County.

          His own mother died the year after Grandpa Rainey died. This may have forged the bond between Grandpa and his mother-in-law. No matter the factors that influenced this close tie, it served as an example of treating one another right with respect and dignity.

          The Apostle Paul preached these words recorded in Acts 17:26, He has made from one blood every nation of men to dwell on all the face of the earth, and has determined their preappointed times and the boundaries of their dwellings.

          Later Paul addressed the two major divisions in the early church – Jewish people and everyone else, sometimes referred to as Gentile. Here Paul uses the term Greek in Romans 10:12, For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek: for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon Him.

          Since we know the Holy Spirit inspired the writing of the sacred scriptures, we know it was not coincidence or happenstance that verse 13 from that same chapter says, For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. A few verses previously written in Romans 10 explained succinctly the need to confess Jesus as Lord (boss) and believe that Jesus was raised from the dead.

          Paul wanted his readers to know how to be saved from their sins. He laid out the need to recognize Jesus as Lord, “God come to earth” who died but rose from the dead. Any who believed those truths would willingly allow the Lord Jesus to daily guide their lives, with the commitment to live out the truth that the Lord is rich to all, and there was no difference in ethnicity. May we follow Grandma Rainey and Grandpa and not let old presumptions overrule the truth of God’s Word but instead work on the relationships in our own lives by the power of God’s Word.

The Defaced Envelope From 65 Years Ago

            My sister and I had quite different reactions when we stumbled onto this important envelope containing a pivotal letter written to our parents in 1959. She said, “I can’t believe they let you get away with doing that.” I thought to myself I was such a hyper little one that even though surrounded by four adults – my parents and my maternal grandparents – all day on the farm, they could not keep up with all my activities.

The front of the envelope  adorned by my scribbles.

            As we looked at it, I marveled that we had run onto my first written story. The composition required I use both sides of the envelope when I crafted my first known manuscript at 2 ¾ years old. If only an adult would have translated my toddler scribbling into English. Based on family lore, without a doubt I could have told anyone the exact meaning of the scrawls that covered the front and back on the envelope.
            

The back of the historical letter's envelope

The letter inside the envelope was a verbal agreement from G.K. “Gib” Morris to accept the offer from my parents to buy the place that my mother still owns. I was forced to agree with Angie, my sister. How did I ever get my little almost-three-year-old hands on that important correspondence?

            One of the first aspects of the envelope that I noticed was the “four-cent postage stamp.” I think, as of this writing, the cost of a first-class stamp has increased to $0.67! Times have changed.
            This letter predated the use of ZIP codes. The telephone number listed within the letter predated the use of area codes. That era reflected a simpler, more personal world.
            The second paragraph appeared a little out-of-step with a real estate deal. Gib Morris, the father of Jr. Morris and grandfather of Patricia Morris Chaffin, Pam Morris Felix, and the late Gilbert Wayne Morris, expressed the importance to him and his wife for desirable neighbors for “the folks” and for the community.

The first two paragraphs of the letter that changed the course of our family.

            Gib’s wife, Thelma, was the only daughter of Mary Clark. She and her husband, Jim, owned the Clark Store “catty-cornered” from the southwest corner of the farm Thelma and Gib were selling. They were the folks that Gib had mentioned in the letter. Thelma and Gib wanted good people as neighbors to their loved ones. The home of Todd and Kelsey Gibson and Lainy is situated on the former location of the Clark Store.
            In the interest of having desirable neighbors for the Clarks and the community, Gib and Thelma did not explore other buyers that would have paid more for the place than my parents did. Gib and Thelma genuinely cared for the well-being of her parents and their neighbors even though they lived in Texas and only came back to the Bend for periodic visits.
            But they did have a reason. Moses recorded it in Deuteronomy 6:5 You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength. Gib and Thelma loved the Lord. This couple knew that Jesus affirmed this verse in Luke 10. A lawyer asked Jesus how to have eternal life. Jesus in turn asked the lawyer what God’s Law said. The lawyer quoted this same verse from Deuteronomy 6:5 but added and your neighbor as yourself. God had spoke to Moses in Leviticus 19:18 You shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge against the children of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.
            These few impressions from a 65-year-old envelope serve as a reminder of valuing people over money or possessions. If we truly have a love relationship with Jesus, then His love will touch the lives of those we live near and encounter in our daily lives. Postage rates have escalated from 65 years ago. Addresses and telephone numbers have become more complicated. But living a life for the Lord because we love Him so much that His love spills into all our other relationships is just as relevant and needed as it was 1959.

Signature of Gib Morris from the letter.
Every time I saw  the name "Gib" or typed it, I
recalled the last time Gilbert Wayne Morris
came and visited with Mother and me at the
 farm. He mentioned that Dad always called
 him Gib instead of Gil. He wondered why. I told
 him, "Maybe because Dad liked your grandpa
and liked to remember him every time he
  called you by his name."