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You’ll Never Walk Alone
You’
I love the way this singer’s voice blends with the wind sounds of the orchestra behind him.
“Do that for me, son. I’m feeling a bit oldish today,” I asked my grandson to help with some small chore.
“Sure Gramma! But you don’t look old.” He gave me the nicest compliment and my low feelings fell away from me.
Isn’t it strange how much a stream of thought, an intangible feeling or atmosphere can create such a psychological sensation? Every time we went back to our old ranch home that same sensation was to wash over me. There seemed actually to be a gentle touch from that old world and it was so real even though nothing was visible or could, indeed, be physically felt.
After the failure of trying to pull family back together for a restoration of the old house was when I determined to make my world, just around me hold the same ambiance to create a mood for my children and grandchildren not to say I would not enjoy the same.
Piece by piece, one thing at a time I pushed onward until today, sometimes this place has the same sweet memories of the ranch home. The hold of the ancestors and their struggles are on the walls of the museum room and the children know those folks.
“Did I tell you of my Gramma Bell?” I asked an eight year old.
“Is she that lady whose picture hangs by the door of the museum room?”
The little one asked me.
No greater gift would I ever have to realize she was looking, truly seeing what I put there for her. What I learned from my beginnings I was passing on to my own, and though sometimes I feel I’m walking alone, ultimately, I know I’m not. My ancestor's battles, struggles, creations walk with me and I’m humbled.
You’
I love the way this singer’s voice blends with the wind sounds of the orchestra behind him.
“Do that for me, son. I’m feeling a bit oldish today,” I asked my grandson to help with some small chore.
“Sure Gramma! But you don’t look old.” He gave me the nicest compliment and my low feelings fell away from me.
Isn’t it strange how much a stream of thought, an intangible feeling or atmosphere can create such a psychological sensation? Every time we went back to our old ranch home that same sensation was to wash over me. There seemed actually to be a gentle touch from that old world and it was so real even though nothing was visible or could, indeed, be physically felt.
After the failure of trying to pull family back together for a restoration of the old house was when I determined to make my world, just around me hold the same ambiance to create a mood for my children and grandchildren not to say I would not enjoy the same.
Piece by piece, one thing at a time I pushed onward until today, sometimes this place has the same sweet memories of the ranch home. The hold of the ancestors and their struggles are on the walls of the museum room and the children know those folks.
“Did I tell you of my Gramma Bell?” I asked an eight year old.
“Is she that lady whose picture hangs by the door of the museum room?”
The little one asked me.
No greater gift would I ever have to realize she was looking, truly seeing what I put there for her. What I learned from my beginnings I was passing on to my own, and though sometimes I feel I’m walking alone, ultimately, I know I’m not. My ancestor's battles, struggles, creations walk with me and I’m humbled.
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