Three Cups of Tea

I'm interning with the Children's and Family ministry here. My supervisor passed along Greg Mortenson's book, as we had left-overs from our recent VBS. This year's theme was Going Global with God: Pakistan, so the planning team read Mortenson's books to get a feel for the current state of affairs.

While attempting to climb  the Karakoram mountains in 1993, Mortenson found himself the recipient of robust Pakistani hospitality. He committed to building a school for the villagers who helped; the relationship blossomed and Mortenson continued to build over fifty schools over the ensuing years.

Apparently his memoir's are controversial. Some dispute the veracity of his claims to have built so many schools. Read more about that here. I have not read either of his books, but will eventually.

e. e. cummings: complete poems 1904-1962 & i thank you God for most this amazing...

He doesn't punctuate his sentences. I was aghast by this celebrated author's poor of mechanics until mom explained that "he did that on purpose".  Really??? The next logical question was whether or not I could throw out upper case too...i attempted as much when she wasn't looking.

e.e. cummings was my mother's favorite. I love the fact that my meat and potatoes, future-home-maker-of-America thoroughly appreciated cummings' modern style. His work is dear to my spirit as well -- particularly this piece (hear the author's own reading). Eric Whitacer's composition for SATB is beautiful (of course), but Gwyneth Walker's SSA captivates me every time I hear it. Incidentally, cummings' burial site is located in the region where I will soon dwell. This move is a major uprooting, a cause for reflection and thanks.

i thank you God for most this amazing... (65)

e.e. cummings

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

Gone with the Wind

I shouldn't find it surprising that Mom was a devoted fan of this great American classic. Many women from her generation were infatuated with Mitchell's tragic characters. It all seemed a little to dramatic for my mother, the even-keeled, Midwestern Future Homemaker of America. Whatever it was that endeared her to Tara must have been the same agent which attracted her to my rebel-blooded father. Our Old-South lineage is studded with prominent historical figures. As a "Davis," my paternal grandmother is a descendant of both Robert E. Lee and the Davis -- Jefferson. I just learned from Dad that one of our great uncles makes a cameo appearance in the book as the doctor forced by Union soldiers to treat the wounded in Atlanta.

I still have not read the book, though Mom introduced me to the movie at 8 or 9 years old... I've been smitten with Clark Gable ever since. However, I have it on good authority that the book is a much greater epic than the movie. I picked up this copy nearly 2 years ago at a quaint thrift store in Siloam Springs, AR. This summer I plan to spend quality time with Ms. Mitchell and her legendary commentary on the Old South.

Someday You'll Write

Elizabeth Yeats began her writing career as an illiterate girl who cherished stories. She went on to become a distinguished 21st. century author, winning the Newbery Medal for Amos Fortune, Free Man. I remember reading that novel for school...I think Mom may have read it aloud.

Mom championed writing from day one. I recall her challenging me to write in my diary every day, "even if it is just a few sentences." That was at 8 or 9 years, when journaling every day was a still a novel idea. She passed this self-starter book along sometime during my elementary years. Oddly enough, I've never actually read it. A page here and there, yes -- but never a whole chapter. It has remained on my shelf, throughout six moves, college, and grad school.

I'm sure you've heard the saying, "It's the thought that counts." Cliché though it may be, I'm inclined to agree.  She thought I should write. She believed that I would write. She invested her life into cultivating my love for narrative and print...among other things :)  I'm giving the book another go tonight; perhaps someday I will write.

Happy Mothers Day 

Penny Lee Leonhard

June 1, 1951 - February 2, 2010

The Road To Mephis

It's 1941 and prejudice is alive in well in Mississippi. The racial tension has not changed, but the Logan children have grown into men and women. This final novel in Roll of Thunder trilogy is a thrilling man-against-society narrative. Cassie is nearly grown up, and finishing school. Stacey is a working man with his own car. When a lazy afternoon goes terribly wrong, Cassie and Stacey find themselves whisking away a dear friend on a whirlwind journey to Memphis, desperately attempting to save his life. The long journey only takes a matter of hours, but the travelers find themselves altered forever once they reach their destination. In this Coretta Scott King Award-winning novel, World War II, unplanned pregnancy, and substance abuse collide against to backdrop of deeply divided South.