by MarianBeaman | Aug 2, 2014 | Family / Nostalgia, Gratitude, Literature, Mennonite Lore, Nostalgia, Romance, Uncategorized
During the first week of August Cliff and I celebrate three wedding anniversaries, our son and daughter and their spouses along with our own. Our children are beginners at marriage (sort of), but for us it’s # 47, three years away from golden. Our romance was of the...
by MarianBeaman | Jul 16, 2014 | Literature, Memory, Purple Passage, Quotations, Reflection, Uncategorized
Birthdays The great thing about getting older is that you don’t lose all the other ages you’ve been. – Madeleine l’Engle The secret of genius is to carry the spirit of the child into old age, which means never losing your enthusiasm. – Aldous Huxley...
by MarianBeaman | Jul 9, 2014 | book review, Coming of Age, Conflict, Education, Literature, Quotations, Uncategorized
Sarah’s Flair for House-keeping She was the kind of woman who took the trouble to tie her hair with a ribbon for breakfast when many wives came down tousled; who spent an extra minute to stamp a design on a block of home-churned butter; who knew how to give a...
by MarianBeaman | Jul 5, 2014 | book review, Education, Literature, Quotations, Reflection, Uncategorized
In case you thought I would be writing an exposé about my difficult marriage to artist Cliff, you’d be wrong. I may write about my own marriage at some point, but it would have a different title. The marriage under the microscope is that of Sarah Edwards to the...
by MarianBeaman | Jun 25, 2014 | Conflict, Literature, Memory, Nostalgia, Quotations, Reflection, Uncategorized
Jane Martin Walters never attend another Elizabethtown High School Class Reunion, and Dr. Norman P. Will no longer attends college graduations as a president emeritus at Florida State College at Jacksonville. Yet, they both linger in my memory though Jane died in her...
by MarianBeaman | May 31, 2014 | Gratitude, Literature, meditation, Memory, Nostalgia, Tips, Uncategorized
e EGG Reader, in your hand you hold A silver case, a box of gold. I have no door, however small, Unless you pierce my tender wall, And there’s no skill in healing then Shall ever make me whole again. Show pity, Reader, for my plight: Let be, or else consume me...
