Doc, do you think Mr. Foster is going to make it?” questioned Molly with sincere concern in her voice.
We were sitting at what I considered “my table” at the diner. Last week, Wilson Foster, fell in her place of business, hitting his head, and hadn’t been able to gain consciousness for any length of time since then.
“It’s hard to say, Molly. Very little is know regarding apoplexy,” answered Doc, then he ran his thumb over his nose in a flicking motion. “I don’t think his problem is from the knock of the head; it’s something more serious than that. I know that in some of the hospitals back east they are doing some surgeries on the arteries in the neck,” he continued grabbing the sides of his neck and bringing his fingers together. “It seems that there is a build up in the arteries that can cause paralysis and even death. Stroke, they’re calling it now. I think that’s what happened to Wilson.”
“Well, can anything be done?” asked Molly.
Doc seemed fidgety today, this time he scratched the left side of his head. “I don’t know, Molly. I just don’t know.”
Molly began to shake her head, “Poor Elizabeth. What will happen to her?”
It was now my opportunity to speak. “Darnelle can run the store…”
“She’ll have to!” interrupted Doc. “Wilson won’t be up for a long time,” he paused, “if ever. I don’t know if he can even speak. Elizabeth will have to spend her time taking care of him, or send him to Denver to one of those homes.”
“Oh, Doc, no!” cried Molly. “That would be terrible. Well, we need to pray for Mr. Foster.”
“Edith has been helping Elizabeth, but she can’t keep it up. She’s supposed to be home tomorrow,” he informed us then looked at me. “I’m glad you thought of Mrs. Blackstone. Darnelle can surely operate the store, but she’ll need help.”
I had just taken a sip of coffee. “It wasn’t my idea,” I replied. “Molly thought of her. She’ll work while Connor’s in school. He can do some work as well, chopping wood, sweeping, things like that.”
Doc grabbed his hat and coat and was putting them on as he walked to the door. We had another three inches of snow last night. He turned to look back at us, shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “It’s cold,” and walked out.
“Poor Mr. Foster,” mulled Molly.
We sat there quietly for a few seconds when Marta came to the table. “I will only take a minute, but I need to talk with Senor Miles,” she said.
“Go ahead, Marta,” uttered Molly. “I’ll take over your tables.”
As Molly left, Marta took her chair. “Senor Miles, I am worried about Charlie. He should have been back three days ago,” she said wringing her hands. “I am fearful that something has happened to him.”
“Most likely the road’s just closed.”
“No, Senor,” she was in tears, holding her hands to her chest. “I feel it here, something has happened.” She looked at me pleading.
I pulled at my moustache. Molly has meandered in our direction and heard Marta’s plea. “Miles.”
Putting my hand on Marta’s I nodded. “I’ll head out tomorrow. Standing up I picked up the Greener, put on my hat and told Molly. “I’ll need to get a mule and supplies. See you for supper…”
**********
p.s. Those of you who enjoy The Saga of Miles Forrest should be interested to know that there are two full-length novels about the adventures of Miles. They are: Return From Tincup; and Winter of the Wolves. They may be purchased from Amazon.
Month: December 2020
Echoes From the Campfire
For it was our way to go onward; to go forward and to try to shape our world into something that would make our lives easier, even if more complicated. Our struggle was for time. Our leisure was bought from hardship, and we needed leisure to think, to dream, to create.”
–Louis L’Amour (Bendigo Shafter)
“But while he thought about these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take to you Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit.'”
–Matthew 1:20 (NKJV)
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Put a marker in your Bible at Psalms. We not through, but I’m taking a break from the Psalms until 2021. I thought I’d spend a little time looking at the First Advent, and this holy season of Christmas.
Dreams! We all have them. I’m not sure of the science behind them; mostly I think they come from the things we eat before going to bed. I heard that Rod Serling (who was born on Christmas Day) would eat crazy things so he would dream, then would write them into stories for his Twilight Zone. Dreams may come from a taxing day, or stressful circumstance. Freud, (Fraud??) believed that dreams “represented a disguised fulfillment of a repressed wish. He believed that studying dreams provided the easiest road to understanding of the unconscious activities of the mind.”
We all dream, usually more than five dreams a night, very few of which we remember. My daughters have told me of strange dreams they had. They must think I’m an Oneirocritic. Now, how’s that for a term? An oneirocritic is someone who is able to interpret dreams. Most likely they have a lot of Freud (and fraud) in their background.
In the Bible, especially the Old Testament, we see that a number of people had dreams. Dreams can come from God, that I will not deny. When we look at the birth of Jesus we see the use of dreams (and I am not including visions). The magi were warned in a dream not to return to Herod (Matthew 2:12). Joseph was spoken to twice through dreams. First, in regard to Mary and her pregnancy (Matthew 1:20-24) and again he was warned to flee Bethlehem to Egypt in a dream (Matthew 2:13). Since the outpouring of the Holy Spirit very little is said about dreams, except that we know Paul had them, and there is the prophecy of Joel mentioned by Peter, “And it shall come to pass in the last days…Your old men shall dream dreams” (Acts 2:17).
Dreams do not always come at night. I dare say that most of us spend time in day-dreams. Some may call it wishful thinking, others may call it “strategic planning” :-] But we do dream about things, about the way we wish things could be.
“The whole world needs, a Christmas dream,
We need it to warm us, to calm us, to love,
To help us to dream our Christmas dream!”
–Andrew Lloyd-Weber/Tim Rice
Perhaps you remember that lively little song, sung by Perry Como. It is a cheerful little song. This world is in a fix. There is turmoil, there is terror, there is fear–perhaps it would do us some good to dream a Christmas dream.
“Crazy things, said an’ done,
Every single day but one!
Every night should, I believe,
Be the same as Christmas Eve,
Nights should all be silent,
Days should all slow down,
And end to the hurry, the noise and the worry!
And I hope that you believe that too!
It’s Christmas!”
Quit the panic, put away the anxiety and enjoy Christmas. The season where we celebrate the birth of God’s Son and our Hope–the Savior. Oh, and if you think you have a dream from the Lord, check it out. Nothing in the dream will go against or add to the Bible; it will not confuse or bring fear into your life.
Coffee Percs
The ol’ cook] had a bucket of snow water coming to a boil. He emptied half a pound of coffee into it, and began yelling, ‘Coffee-time, you mountain bums! Boots and saddles! The herd’s broke over the big mountain!’”
–Richard P. Hobson, Jr. (Nothing Too Good for a Cowboy)
Git yur coffee, Pard, drink it down, but I’m feared we can do little to stop the stampede! The senseless stupidity of ignorant, foolish men have started to run and I’m not sure there are enough of the stalwart ones to stem the tide.
Sorry, Pard, don’t mean to be alarmin’ yuh on a Saturday mornin’. I know this is a time for relaxin’, doin’ some talkin’ and enjoyin’ good coffee. I jist got riled this mornin’. I started singin’, “Silver Bells,” and realized that most likely those days are over. “City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style…” ha, fear has taken over. Where is the feelin’ of Christmas? Why the bureaucrats are tellin’ yuh to stay home, away from friends and family this Christmas. Looks as if Scrooge has won.
Better drink up, that cup needs to ease the bile in my gizzard. That’s it, calmed down, I’m not goin’ to let some ruin my love of Christmas, the season, and all that it means. Why, this is the Lord’s birthday! They want me to stop seein’ my family and celebratin’ His birthday?
Yuh know, what I think? Well, I’m a-goin’ to tell yuh. One of the saddest things is that those that die from this devilish virus die alone. Now think of that–family at home, beside the Christmas tree, unwrappin’ presents, and the ol’ sick person is lyin’ in bed, in some forlorn hospital–alone. I sure hope those hospital “Sky-Pilots” are there with them. Good time to snatch them from the flames if’n they don’t know the Lord.
Let’s finish up this pot, then yuh can join me, “Ringa ling, hear them sing, Soon it will be Christmas Day…” Yeehaw, Pard, let the stampede continue. We’ll enjoy Christmas! Say, in all the jinglin’ and ringalingin’ don’t be forgettin’ to check yur cinch. It’s be terrible to fall off in the midst of the stampede.
Vaya con Dios!
Echoes From the Campfire
It’s not how good you are with your fists, or with a gun. It’s what you are inside. Your loyalty, and your courage. And your self-respect.”
–Brad Dennison (The Long Trail)
“A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil. For out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.”
–Luke 6:45 (NKJV)
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I’m borrowing some from an anecdote that was posted in an newly found, “old” friend’s facebook page. As many times as I’ve gone camping, sat beside a fire whether in the woods or in a fireplace, this example never came to my mind. Guess it’s not meant for my “deep” thinking.
A member of the church, who previously had been attending services regularly, stopped going. After a few weeks, the pastor decided to visit him.
It was a chilly evening. The pastor found the man at home alone, sitting before a blazing fire. Guessing the reason for his pastor’s visit, the man welcomed him, led him to a comfortable chair near the fireplace and waited.
The pastor made himself at home but said nothing. In the grave silence, he contemplated the dance of the flames around the burning logs. After some minutes, the pastor took the fire tongs, carefully picked up a brightly burning ember and placed it to one side of the hearth all alone then he sat back in his chair, still silent.
The host watched all this in quiet contemplation. As the one lone ember’s flame flickered and diminished, there was a momentary glow and then its fire was no more. Soon it was cold and dead. Not a word had been spoken since the initial greeting. The pastor glanced at his watch and realized it was time to leave. He slowly stood up, picked up the cold, dead ember and placed it back in the middle of the fire. Immediately it began to glow, once more with the light and warmth of the burning coals around it.
As the pastor reached the door to leave, his host said with a tear running down his cheek. “Thank you so much for your visit and especially for the fiery sermon. I will be back in church next Sunday.” We live in a world today, which tries to say too much with too little. Consequently, few listen. Sometimes the best sermons are the ones left unspoken.
This “virus” that is among us has become a grand tool for the devil. Some have awakened to what is happening and have become “hot” for the Lord again. In the lives of others, however, it has caused them to make an excuse to not get up and go to church. It has caused them to become fearful, and that, causes them to lose trust in the Lord. Some say, I go to church online. Hmmm, maybe so, but you are missing one of the most important things of the church and that is the assembling together of the saints. That gathering is important, especially in this day, for it helps to cleanse the person from the dirt that rubs off on them through the day.
Make this Christmas season one where you receive the blessing of the Lord as well as from loved ones. Stir up the flame that is in your heart and let the Holy Spirit speak to you during this wonderful time of year.