I spent some time with my eldest nephew, his wife, and their three lovely children last night. The kids — my great-niece Lucy, my great nephews Gideon, and his brother Josiah, are all gregarious, super-intelligent, happy, well-adjusted people. I’m grateful for that fact, and, of course, I know personally that the family’s strong faith and commitment to the Lord and His Word is the reason for that healthy situation.
I always enjoy talking with my great niece and nephews because they are thinkers. They are not self-absorbed, but are aware of the world around them and the other people who are in that world. They care about people, and they enjoy interacting with them.
They all three have wonderful imaginations, but the middle child, Josiah, has more than an imagination. He has a vision. This child loves, loves, loves building things. He just turned 7 this past year, and he has put together more buildings, vehicles, and other structures than I can count — with various building supplies available in kid versions these days.
He sees himself as a successful architect in the future. But Josiah doesn’t want to build just certain kinds of buildings or bridges or parks. He wants to build everything. And for well over a month now he has been telling us about the city he is going to build. Last night, he talked to me at great length about this city. He has plans for building various kinds of houses for families of all sizes. He has plans for businesses – including grocery stores and specialty places like coffee shops. He plans on laying out hiking trails around the city, as well as camping facilities. In fact, he has given the whole concept serious, creative thought. He shared specific details of how he could make homes special so that they would meet specific needs and preferences for the individuals who would live in them.
I sat and listened in amazement to his excited plans, and he wasn’t done when I had to leave. I needed to get to a meeting, so he’ll have to tell me some more the next time we’re together. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a few blueprints drawn up by then.
After I left, I started thinking about how large his vision is. I’ve taught school most of my adult life — at several different levels — so I’ve spent a good many years hearing children and teenagers share their ideas about what kind of work they want to do and what they want to accomplish when they become adults. But I don’t think I remember hearing anyone younger than 18 share a vision so large or so well-thought out.
Now, I’m not trying to say that my nephew is any smarter or more creative than all other children. What I am saying is that I believe the children of this generation have had so many advanced learning opportunities — and so much access to the whole world and the people who make it up — that they are capable of thinking bigger, broader, deeper, and farther than previous generations when it comes to what the possibilities are for their future. Their imaginations have more to work with and more incentive than ever before. I’m thrilled when I think about that fact. And I’m excited when I realize that if a 7-year-old can envision – in detail – the construction of an entire city today, there’s nothing big enough to stand in his way fifteen years from now when he’s ready to break ground for the first building.
So I’m going to take every opportunity I can to encourage the young people I come in contact with — whether physically or through the written word — to dream as big as their hearts desire. I know we see a lot of problems in our societies and a lot of dangers just waiting to grab the younger generation. But I’ve decided that I’m going to focus on the wealth of talent, creativity, and fortitude that is in the kids today. I’m going to encourage them and help them in every way I know how. And I’m planning on living long enough to enjoy the benefits of what this generation is going to create.
This week is the first time I’ve taken part in the “Mindlovesmisery” writing challenges. This week we are to write a story in 100 words or less. The host site offered a picture for inspiration, but I put that aside because the idea I wanted to work with didn’t fit that particular picture. To take part you can visit here.
The auditorium was full of guests, the organist waiting for her cue. The best man stood at the door, ready to enter as soon as the groom came back inside. He’d just stepped out for some air. Where the heck was he?
Suddenly Carter hurried into the room, passed by his best man, and entered the auditorium. Looking at the guests, he took a deep breath and spoke:
“Sorry folks. Seems my bride eloped with someone else.” He laughed. “She took the car I’d arranged for my own last-minute escape.”
We’ve had ice and rain since last night — and continuing through today. The roads, sidewalks, and steps are totally ice-free and sloppy wet. But the trees, bushes, and porch rails are covered with ice. It’s a rather odd combination of sights. I suppose I could include these shots in this week’s WP photo challenge as well because they do provide their own kind of ambiance.
I am capable of loving, deeply and profoundly.
I do so at every opportunity.
I am capable of hating,
But I choose not to hate.
I am capable of faith, enough to move a mountain.
I believe in things considered “unbelievable.”
I am capable of doubting,
But I choose not to doubt.
I am capable of courage, in face of mortal danger.
I use it to stand up to all life’s battles.
I am capable of fear,
But I choose not to fear.
I am capable of choosing; it is a priceless gift.
And I take care to use that gift most wisely.
Visit Daily Post to participate.
COMMUNITY THANKSGIVING CELEBRATION
To participate in the challenge visit the Daily Post.
Join the Daily Prompt fun here.
This week’s prompt: ‘Tomorrow when the sun will rise, who knows what the tide could bring.’
TREASURE FROM THE TIDE
Each morning eight-year-old Aran, his mahogany skin warmed by the sun, trekked to the shore to greet his best friend. The brilliant blue of the water delighted him, and as the waves danced and frolicked on their way to the beach, Aran waited eagerly for them to spill onto the sand at his feet so that he could dance with them.
After splashing in the tide to his heart’s content, he then hurried to the small cave set into the rocky cliff overlooking the beach, where he kept his stash of sea-polished rocks. Daily, he scoured the beach, collecting new ones, always anticipating some special treasure that he was sure, one day, would be deposited on this tiny island by this best of friends, the ocean.
Today he’d found that gift. But what was it? Coral? It didn’t feel like coral. It wasn’t quite hard enough. He examined it closely, his nimble fingers tracing the scores of tiny hollows that formed a pattern and offered a mystery.
He carried it home at lunch time to show his mom and Grandfather. “What is it, Poppy?” he’d asked Grandfather. He knew Poppy had traveled to distant lands many years ago, and he would surely know what this beautiful treasure was.
“It’s a wasps’ nest,” was the rep!y, and then, because the island had no wasps, Poppy had to explain about the insects and how they built their homes.
Fascinated by Poppy’s words, Aran held the delicate structure close. Here it was! His anticipated treasure from another world! His connection with people and adventures that were beyond his ocean! He would treasure this gift … keep it safe … and some day … some day he would set off from this tiny island that had been his home for eight years, and – carried in the arms of his best friend – he would discover the rest of the world for himself.