The time on the spiky clock on the farmhouse wall said 10:30 p.m. A coveted time for me in my childhood.
It was “nightlunch” time (Russian tradition) at Grandma and Grandpa’s house on the farm. Grandpa found his usual spot at the end of the table within arm’s reach of a little side table where the green transistor radio lived, telling of the farm market news by day and “Classics Till Dawn” serenading the kitchen on CFAM by night. It was a portal to the outside world on their farm, located deep in the heart of the country.
The toaster was a best friend, perched beside the transistor for the night lunch where grandpa adjusted the toaster knob just right…burnt. The resulting blackened toast was then slathered with thick patches of real butter. It filled the kitchen with an aroma that seemed to say this coveted nightly ritual had begun.
It was my favourite time of the day or should I say night. Along with their night lunch, the local Carillon news paper visited the farmhouse table on a weekly basis, every Thursday, picked up by my grandpa at Guenthers store in the small town of Grunthal a few miles down the road from the farm.
As the paper opened wide with all its grandeur, my eyes chased past the sports, jobs, etc… eagerly trying to steady my heart as I searched for the weekly Carillon feature; inserts of three to four chapters of a children’s book.
This particular evening I was excited to practice my reading skills of the classic Where the Red Fern grows after my last bite of Grandpa’s perfected burnt toast. My grandma help me with the bigger words as she and Grandpa listened intently as we all got lost in the world of young Billy with his hounds, little Ann and old Dan.
It was magical.
Letting my eyes scan as I was reading, I felt a bit sad knowing a few paragraphs to go and I would need to wait another whole week to start the next couple of chapters to find what would happen next.
Sometimes in life the answers we are looking for and have prayed fervently for, take us on a journey; sometimes weekly, sometimes monthly, and sometimes yearly…too long for our hearts it may seem. We eagerly anticipate the next chapter and all that encompasses.
Life rarely lets us finish a book in one day.
Let each chapter give you courage as you anticipate the answers to your book in that season of life no matter what the final chapter may reveal.
Enjoy the chapters along the way as you may have to wait. Our God Love’s when we rest in Him as we wait for the answers for the next chapters. How we wait is important to our faith, our mind, our hearts.
Surround yourself with those that make the journey easier. Friends, family… Those that will share the good and the not so good chapters of your life. Those that will sincerely listen to your “readings” of the chapters of your life and encourage and rejoice and will help you with the “big words” when you just can’t.
The memories of those days of the night lunches and the weekly chapter readings of Where the Red Fern grows were highlights in my life and have a special place tucked deep in my heart.
I may have had to wait from week to week for the answers to the next chapter, but I still enjoyed the moments in my childhood, a few chapters at a time and everything that surrounded that time around the farmhouse table, especially the night lunch and the company of my grandma and grandpa.
in the short or long moments in between the chapters of your book ( life’s series of events). Enjoy each day as you wait. Don’t hold your breath.
Enjoy the pieces of life that make the journey enjoyable.
Enjoy your “butter slathered coveted burnt toast”…
and have JOY while you wait.