Category: Beauty

It’s A Wonderful Life

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment
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The Hallmark Channel is loved by many for its holiday movies. The plots are always upbeat and right out of a stock formula. Those of us watching always know exactly what is going to happen, but we love those films nonetheless. Many of the themes revolve around falling in love at Christmas time. I can relate to that because one of the most wondrous moments of my life happened during the holidays.

I had been dating my husband for about a year and told everyone that who would listen that I was madly in love with him. In fact, I knew after our first date that the two of us had an almost magical connection. We spent every free moment that we had doing things together and those feelings only grew. We were young and a bit naive, but the world around us was filled with angst caused by the war in Vietnam, the draft, assassinations of leaders, war protests, and attempts to find justice and civil rights for our Black citizens. It was a time of great uncertainty and a feeling that the world might blow up before our very eyes. It the midst of that atmosphere Mike and I were certain that we were in love.

Just before Christmas Mike came to my mother’s home and lead me to the Christmas tree. Under the twinkling lights, made even more delightful by the shimmer of icicles, he took my hand and asked me to marry him. I recall feeling overwhelmed by emotion, but I knew without hesitation that my answer was “yes.” It was one of the best events of my life, and yet I had no idea back then how truly wonderful our partnership together would be. If ever I had a Hallmark movie moment it was surely on that night.

We’ve had fifty Christmases as man and wife and they have always been happy, even in the most difficult of times. We were hopelessly young when we walked down the aisle but we muddled through those years when we were still practically children. On our first Christmas we purchased an inexpensive assortment of glass ornaments of various colors and put them on a tiny tree that stood on a desk in our apartment. We had seen a little Nativity set that cost under ten dollars and we splurged to buy it. I still remember how proudly we placed in under the branches of the tree. We still have the manger and have lovingly set it at the foot of our tree foe fifty years. Over that time our decorations have become more and more elaborate.

Now we have a nine foot tree in our great room and companion trees in three other rooms. It takes more than seven storage boxes to hold all of the figurines and orbs that we have collected from one year to the next. We bring back Christmas ornaments from virtually every place that we visit. We have also created collections of Swarovski snowflakes and Lennox gingerbread men. We delight over the whimsical Hallmark ornaments that remind us of bygone years. We have ornaments from friends and homemade items from our children. Every single sparkly item finds a home, even the original glass balls that are now faded from age. I’m a very sentimental sort who even saves the ones made from old Christmas cards and photographs.

Through a great deal of hard work we have created quite a wonderful life for ourselves, but that glorious feeling that I felt in my heart underneath my family’s Christmas tree so long ago has never faded. If anything it has grown even stronger as Mike and I have experienced the realities of life that can sometimes be incredibly difficult. We’ve walked hand in hand through tears and laughter and I still don’t believe that I would ever have found a better partner if I had searched the world over.

We were blessed with great families and remarkable friends. We have shared so many times with people who extend the reach of our love, and of course our children and grandchildren have been the very heart of what we cherish most. Each Christmas Day when they gather at our home I feel a burst of pride and joy that might also make a great Hallmark movie story. I truly believe that if the folks who create those films had simply followed us through the years they would have a great story to tell, one that we celebrate each Christmas.

The honest truth about people my age is that we don’t actually realize how old we may appear to others. In our hearts and minds we still see ourselves as those crazy young kids glowing with the blush of love and expectation. If I had the opportunity to go back in time to change things a bit I suppose that I would be reluctant to alter a single thing. I would be afraid that in doing so I might not be exactly where I am right now. I suspect that’s why I so love the Christmas classic It’s a Wonderful Life. The story reminds me so much of my own. My journey has been unlike anything I had imagined in my youth and amazingly it came out even better.

As I gaze down through the years I am quite content and ready to celebrate the wonderful day when Christ was born and Mike and I made a promise to love each other until the end of our time. If I could have just one wish come true it would be that everyone would be able to find true love and enjoy a lifetime with a kindred spirit. It is indeed wonderful.

The Golden Girl

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment
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I have the most amazing friends! Their posts on Facebook invariably make my day. They seem to have a direct view into my heart and the things that matter to me. I suppose that we are friends because our spirits are kindred in one way or another and they often humble me with their wit and wisdom. There are so many days when they target the very concerns that are consuming my heart without ever realizing that they have hit such a tender target. A few mornings ago I shared several of the memes and stories that they posted because they were exactly what I needed in that moment.

Among them was a heartfelt admission from one of my former students, a young woman who in many ways had been a kind of “golden girl” in her class. I met her when she was a freshman in high school and was immediately taken by her obvious charisma. She was beautiful then and had become even more so in the ensuing years as maturity gave her a kind of polish. Intellectually she was outstanding in every sense. Her academic acumen was sharp and I saw her as a deeply gifted and talented individual. While her forte was writing, she was nonetheless one of the best in virtually every subject, easily rising to the top levels among her peers. Amazingly she was also a natural born leader who had the ability of assessing any situation and taking charge with a kind of ease. As if all of that were not enough, she was incredibly kind and compassionate, a trait that did not escape the notice of both her teachers and her classmates.

This magnificent person became a student at the University of Texas where she struggled a bit to find herself. Eventually she came back home to Houston and spent some time reassessing who and what she wanted to be in her life. She worked to put herself through college at the University of Houston and in the process developed managerial skills from her jobs. After earning her degree the KIPP Charter schools hired her to work in development. She brought so much heart and understanding of the organization and its goals that she has risen rather rapidly though the ranks. Her ascendancy does not surprise me at all because she is one of those rockstar individuals who consistently shines even in a crowd.

I recently had the pleasure of meeting this young woman for dinner. In a turn that speaks to her thoughtfulness she presented me with a replica World Series ring from one of the Houston Astro’s game that she had attended. She had noticed that I did not have one and that I had expressed my desire to get one from a silly post that I had placed on Facebook. While everyone else ignored my audacious request, she had taken it to heart thus proving to me what I already knew about her. She is the whole package, a woman with enormous gifts and and even bigger heart.

I had thought that nothing about this woman would amaze me because I deeply understood her talents and her drive. One morning when I was reading the offerings on my Facebook newsfeed I found the following post from her:

I have been meaning to write this post for a while, but haven’t because I’ve never been one to put my business, good or bad, on social media. But I want to share this because I have come to terms with it. I have suffered from depression, I can’t tell you when it started, but I do know it went unspoken for longer than it should have. I thought that what I was feeling was normal, that the thoughts I had were normal. It wasn’t until I opened up to a friend about what I felt and what I thought that I realized how wrong I was. I was urged to talk, to seek help so I did. I started taking anti-depressants and sleep medication. A year and half later, things are better… most of the time. What people need to understand about depression is that it doesn’t have “a look”, you can’t always tell when someone is dealing with depression. Most of us live with it and are trying our best to get through it, we have good days. But some days are worse than others, and it’s more than just being sad and no we can’t just “snap out of it.” Yes I tried exercise, I tried meditation, I tried talking, I tried everything I could think of and some of it helped. At the end of the day I have accepted that this will come and go, that I needed to take the good days as wins and know that bad days will pass. I may not be the best at dealing with this, but I am dealing with it and I’m here for anyone who has questions, who needs someone to talk to or who just needs someone to listen.

I was literally overwhelmed with admiration and gratitude upon reading this post. In one moment she had proven herself to be even more remarkable than even I, one of her most ardent admirers, had ever dreamed. I fully understood how much courage it had taken for her to expose herself to potential criticism for I have witnessed so much ignorance about depression, anxiety and other mental illnesses in my own efforts to educate the public. In a single paragraph my lovely student perfectly described what life is like for those afflicted with diseases that invade the mind. I am over the moon in awe of her, and I have shared her words with others whom I know who have also walked in the shadows and confusion and loneliness of depression. Her beautiful description of her journey to health has already helped people that she does not even know to face their own battles.

We often see individuals who appear to be as perfect as anyone might be without realizing the challenges that they actually face. The beauty of my student and now adult friend is that she understood how much good would come from admitting to the struggle that she has endured. I feel that I am now one of her pupils learning what true determination and strength actually is. I am so grateful to know her. She is even more remarkable than I dreamed.

The Generosity of Widows

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment
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In the gospel story the widow gave when she did not have. I always likened the woman in that parable to my own mother, a widow who had so little material wealth, but gave  freely of whatever she had. She used to smile sweetly and tell us that we should never worry about her because Jesus had promised to take care of people like herself. Thus she gave to a host of organizations that unwittingly took her donations without ever realizing that she might have better been a recipient of their largesse. I never quite knew how she did it, but she always managed to keep the lights on and the gas roaring to heat the house and cook the food. It was a rare day when she actually ran her air conditioner, and she stretched her budget by living a life that would have rivaled the simplicity of Thoreau. She understood and lived the messages of Jesus so well that my brothers and I often insist that she should officially be elevated to sainthood by the Pope.

I think of how wonderful it would be to have St. Ellen of Houston, patron saint of widows and the mentally ill. I wish I knew the process for getting her name in the Pope’s mind. I think I even have proof of miracles that she has already made happen from her heavenly home. While I’m one of those people who is a bit suspicious of the idea of sainthood and miracles and such, somehow when it comes to my mom it seems feasible that there are indeed such people who live in our midst. They are somehow so truly believers and kind souls that they seem more godly than the rest of us. Those who know them see the traits of which I speak.

I have to admit that I have often questioned my own faith and I worry incessantly. I see so much unfairness and evil in the world and it gives me pause. My mother was never like that. She was an unsinkable optimist, and I have to admit that like the widow of the gospels she never ran out of food or the things that she needed to live no matter how meager it may have been. Some miracle or another seemed to take place even in her darkest hours. Then she would smile as if to say, “I told you so.”

It was great having her as a parent, particularly after our father died. I was totally frightened and traumatized. but she demonstrated over and over again that she would provide for us with God’s help. We used to laugh when something around our house broke, because an unexpected windfall invariably came our way making all well again. I sometimes thought that my mom was incredibly naive, and I assumed the role of family cynic when I was still a child. Again and again my fears were proven to be unfounded, and I eventually learned to have a little faith before coming unglued.

There are so many needs in this world, and often not enough willingness to help. We give tokens rather than stretching our budgets just a bit to include those who are less fortunate. The people who are known for their generosity are very often the very souls who can least afford to be so. Like my mother they happily reach into their pockets to support a worthy cause. I found that I was generally more likely to raise donations in a school filled with economically disadvantaged  students than in an exclusive private school. Perhaps it is because the poor have a better understanding of need than those whose lives are filled with comfort. They have experienced living on the edge, and so they give when they are able.

It is sometimes suggested that raising funds from private donations is better than compelling citizens to pay taxes to give to the government to support programs for the needy. That would be a beautiful thought if everyone were indeed as generous as the widow of the Bible and my mother. Unfortunately far too many would rather keep the four or five dollars that they might spend each day at a Starbuck’s than set aside that change for someone who is struggling to survive. While there are some folks who are poor because they are lazy, most are like my mother whose circumstances left her in a difficult economic situation. There are many many reasons for poverty, and we should all be willing to help those who are unable to help themselves.

This is a season of Thanksgiving and sharing. There are many worthy causes that merit our aid. The idea is to think of the less fortunate and give whatever we can afford and perhaps even a tiny bit more. It doesn’t even have to be to an organization. There may be someone that we know who can use our help. A gift card or basket of items that will get them through the coming winter months will most certainly be appreciated, and we can do so in the guise of just playing Santa Claus.

I love those angel trees that pop up at churches and schools. It’s delightful to fulfill the hopes and dreams of those whose holidays might otherwise be dreary. I enjoy the role models who show us how to be generous like Bill Gates and Mattress Mack here in my own hometown. Jesus tells us that if we share what we have, He will make certain that we will get what we need. My Mama always believed that, and I’m trying to imitate her profound faith and generosity.

Happy Birthday To Me

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment
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By the end of this weekend I will have turned seventy years old. It’s a bit of a milestone. Most of the classmates with whom I attended school have already crossed that bridge. It’s far older than the average lifespan of people determined by actuarial science in the year that I was born. It’s a rather sobering sounding number by anyone’s standards, and for the first time in my life it actually seems to indicate that I am growing old.

I suppose that it would be best to accept my fate since it is the most natural of events. In fact, being able to add another year, another decade to my history is cause for celebration. In a time not that far past being seventy was not that common. It would have landed me among a blessed few. Still, I have to admit that reaching that age is a bit unnerving, not so much for superficial reasons, but because the unknown becomes a bit more murky after the age of seventy. It is indeed a very good idea for me to hold tight to every single day that remains in the rest of my life, for it is uncertain how many they will be, and certain that they are growing fewer with each passing year.

Save for accidents, wars, or natural disasters I have two possible scenarios for living out my days. One side of my family tends to enjoy good health until about the age of eighty when things fall apart. Most of the people in that group either suffered from heart disease, which I do not have, or they became afflicted with cancer like my mother, and both of my grandmothers. The other branch of my family lives very long lives, well into their nineties and beyond, and mostly in relatively good health with the ability to read and think and discuss clearly. My grandfather was literally in almost perfect condition until he celebrated his one hundred eighth birthday. I now have three aunts, siblings of my mother, who are living well past their mid nineties and slowly but surely approaching the one hundred mark. It remains to be seen which group I am most like, but given my present condition it appears that I more closely resemble the latter.

That realization gets me to a point of concern, for I vividly recall my grandfather quietly noting that growing as old as he did has the capacity of bringing sadness into an otherwise optimistic life. By the time of his death all of my grandfather’s children save one had died. His beloved spouse had been gone for thirty years. He had depleted his savings and lived from one month to the next on a ridiculously low government check. While he admitted to being fortunate because he was able to live independently until the final few months of his life, he still felt more and more alone as each passing year brought a new one. He missed the friends and family members who had one by one gone before him. In particular the death of his children was a sobering blow. He was blessed to be able to rent a room from a dear woman who became such a friend that he called her daughter, and rightly so. Still, he admitted that he had grown weary and was ready to get to heaven.

Long life is surely a blessing and I intend to enjoy mine and pray for good health in the coming years, but I’ve actually reached an age at which I am beginning to comprehend my grandfather more and more. He was a joyfully optimistic man, but I understood the worries that he hid so gallantly behind a curtain of courage. His conversations in the later years centered on nostalgia, and a kind of folksy wisdom that he wished to impart to us. As he continued to be with us year after year he became almost immortal and saintly in our minds. It was just as shocking when he died as it might have been at a far earlier age. We mourned the loss of a truly great man, but also understood how selfish it would have been to keep him with us any longer.

I suppose that these are somewhat dreary thoughts on a birthday weekend, and this is truly the first time that a new year of life has brought me such musings. There is something about the number seventy that tells me that I must enjoy each day with far more gusto than ever before. I must embrace my friends and my family and somehow let them know how much they mean to me with every single encounter.

Today the world is brilliantly beautiful to me with its vibrance and possibilities. There has never been a time in my life when technology, medicine, science and creative arts promised so much to even the most common human. Like my grandfather before me I see the past, present and future with new eyes. I understand that even as we quibble with one another and face problems that never seem to end, these truly are “the good old days.”

Mankind is without question a magnificent piece of work. I can see clearly beyond the ugliness and my view from this point in my life is glorious. I suppose that I realize that life itself is my most precious gift, and though my joints ache on most days, I am still filled with an inner energy that takes me to glorious places in my mind. I have learned like my grandfather that the world has a way of righting itself in spite of the quarrels that we create. The young take our places and lead us into a future that will no doubt only get better, without walls or artificial divisions. That sounds very nice, and I intend to go joyfully forward and push my concerns aside for another day. Happy Birthday to me!

A Spiritual Journey

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment
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I felt my grandmother’s spirit all around me when I visited Arkansas last week. Her family had a homestead not far from where I was camped at Lake Ouachita State Park. My great great grandmother and great grandfather are buried on the land that is now part of a national forest. In a churchyard nearby lies my great grandmother. The area is graced with a natural beauty that is breathtaking, so it is little wonder that my grandmother returned when she was growing old to retire to a farm in Caddo Gap.

I spent many happy summers with my grandparents enjoying the wonders of Arkansas. My grandmother took me and my brothers on hikes in the hills when she taught us how to identify the birds and showed us where to find quartz crystals. The sounds and smells were permanently imprinted on my brain back then, Returning brought back vivid memories and made me feel as though my grandmother might pop out from behind one of the trees at any moment smiling and extending her hand to lead us on yet another adventure.

I do understand why my grandmother loved this little piece of heaven so. The forests, hills, rivers, lakes and stone outcroppings are stunning and the people are as friendly as though they were old friends. The whole state is dotted with parks that have unique features that make them lovely. Lake Ouachita is encircled with a forest of pines, oaks and hickory trees that  change into lovely yellow, red and orange colors as the days grow colder. Geese fly in V formation over the lake and ducks waddle across the campgrounds. Now and again a deer wanders through the quiet. It would be quite lovely just to stay there and find a sense of calm and satisfaction that is sometimes hard to duplicate in the rush of daily living.

Instead, we traveled around the vicinity visiting places like Hot Springs, best known for the spas that once attracted the rich and the famous from around the world. Now all but one of the bathhouses are historical artifacts of a different time. Walking along the avenue in front of them garners images of people strolling and laughing as they vacation and enjoy the waters that ease their pains. In my own case I think of the last photograph of my parents together on our family trip less than a year before my father died. My mother wears a sundress with a full skirt and my dad is in a short sleeved shirt with khakis. They are holding hands like two lovers in spite of the fact that they had been married for ten years and had three children following behind. Their faces exude happiness and they are truly beautiful.

At the edge of town in Hot Springs is a lovely botanical garden, Garvin Woodland Gardens. It is a kind of paradise with paths meandering along streams and groves of azaleas, camellias, hydrangeas, magnolias and roses. The walk takes about an hour and a half but seems to pass far too quickly. It is cool and refreshing under the big trees, and the silence save for the wind and cries of birds creates a meditative feel. The last stop is a glorious church built with wood and glass that looks out on a forest. It is a place that refreshes the body and the soul all at the same time.

Not far from Lake Ouachita is Mount Ida, a treasure trove of rock shops that offer quartz crystals and other gems from the area as well as a variety of specimens from around the world. In many of the places there is the added feature of being able to actually dig for treasures with the promise of finding something even more unusual. It is a place where a a fun day being an amateur geologist becomes reality.

Another gorgeous park is located at Mt. Nebo which requires a drive up a narrow road that twists and turns and ends with a magnificent view of the valley below. There are stone cabins for rent that are fully equipped with everything but food. Best of all they have outdoor patios with fireplaces and unbelievable scenic views. I’ve already put a return visit to this wonderful place on my bucket list.

Of course we traveled to Caddo Gap, the site of so many of my childhood memories with my grandparents. It was a thriving little town once, but that was long long ago. The old jailhouse has been converted into a residence and the suspension bridge over the creek that once served as a way to walk out of the hills is now in tatters. Only those who saw it when it was still fit for use will understand how remarkable it used to be. I recall watching my grandmother bravely walk across its wooden planks high above the water and thinking that she must surely have been the most courageous woman in the world. I can still she her smiling down on me and encouraging me to be more adventurous, a trait that seems to be a must in Arkansas.

I fell in love with the glorious place where my grandparents and great grandparents lived and worked so long ago. Arkansas is a beautiful state with wonderfully inviting people. I will definitely be returning.