Steeple Bells

Can you see the twinkle lights twisted
around the upper & lower porch railings?

I was planning all along to photograph the railing lights
-- which have been up since Christmas --
and then the Easter snowfall was an added bonus!

A Surprising Easter Evening Snowfall!
(Photos added April 1st ~
Nature's idea of an April Fools prank?)

"Shall we be a people who live in the darkness of denial and / or impotent rage? Or are we willing to step out and take the risk of believing, however humbly and lowly, in Christmas [and Easter] and that the little twinkling lights we see everywhere represent a great light?"

The Rev. Nancy C. Tiederman,
friend, teacher, priest & spiritual advisor
A couple of years ago, I was regretting the misplacement of some long forgotten Easter poems (something about a steeple against an April sky "and I grew small again"; and another one about hearing church bells and the voice of God). Would I ever remember where I had filed them?

Amazingly yes! All three losses were restored to me, along with a bit of hope.

"When I heard
the church bells ring
I thought I heard
the voice of God."

Albert Schweitzer (1875 - 1965)
French-German Theologian & Renaissance Man
quotation found in
Quiet Thoughts: Reflections on the Meaning of Life
by Weaver & Whitley

"He was a rationalist,
but he had to confess that
he liked the ringing of
church bells."

Anton Chekhov (1860 – 1904)
Russian playwright and short-story writer
quotation found in
Women, Heroes, and a Frog
by Nina Leen (1909 - 1995)

St. John's Church ~ Lafayette Square ~ Washington DC
Photo from my visit ~ October 2017

No Greater Heights

Eagerly,
I scanned the canvasses
of ancient masters -- drew forth
each hidden secret of their craft,
each principle of line, and form, and hue.

And I grew wise in Art.

Fervently,
I studied works
of great composers -- delved deep in melody
and mood, probed structure and technique.

And I grew wise in Music.

Avidly,
I thumbed through yellowed
manuscripts -- through ragged volumes, thick
with dust, and plied my mind with formulas
and rules.

And I grew wise in Science.

Philosophers and men of wit, I read --
plundered every single source
of knowledge, made captive all the learning
of all time until, I though
I towered in Wisdom over all.

And then I saw a steeple,
against an Easter dawn.

And I was small again.

Bernard S. Patrick (Copyright, 1954, John Deere)
poem found in Easter Ideals, 1964 (Vol 21, No 2)

Steeple of St. Peter's Church ~ Philadelphia
Photograph taken by Ben McCartney ~ February 2018

Cathedral Cherry Blossoms ~ Washington, DC
Photograph taken by Ben McCartney ~ March 2004

Harvest View

My 6th Grade Chalk Drawing, Fall 1968
~ Thanks to Mrs. Mitchell for being the best art teacher ever! ~

"Many times we've watched the cornfields
turn from green to gold.
The pattern is familiar as the picture is unrolled,
but every time it happens,
it is strange and fresh and new.
Never does the eye grow weary of the harvest view."
This little poem dates back to those years when every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter my mother ordered the holiday issues of Ideals Magazine. How we kids loved pouring over the vintage drawings and nostalgic poetry, much of which we memorized not so much from trying but just from reading and re-reading so many times.

Year after year, we awaited the moment -- usually a few weeks before the actual Christmas decorations came out -- when Mom would take out the cardboard box in which the Ideals were stored. Even now, my siblings and I can describe to each other every vivid detail of the unforgettable shiny covers. The quaint outdoor scenes of villages and haywagons; the lush seasonal still - life photographs of golden candles and holly berries are forever linked to our memories of each festive season.

Here is one of my favorites -- the lantern and the bittersweet, with the verse above, unattributed, on the opening page:
Ideals Magazine, Thanksgiving Issue
November 1966, Volume 23, Number 5
Maryjane Hooper Tonn & John H. Hafemeister, eds.