Opinion

My Nickel’s Worth

My Nickel’s Worth

About ten years ago, my grandmother threw out some old pumpkins at the back of their farm, and to her surprise, they decomposed and the seeds grew pumpkins. The little kids in the family were so excited, that my Papa Lewis decided to actually plant a pumpkin patch. Being a highly successful farmer, he researched the planting of pumpkins, and he has perfected them each year. He has a watering system, he adds straw, he put a fence around this huge patch just so his grandkids could enjoy watching the pumpkins grow and picking them in the fall. I think this is a good analogy for something even greater.--having an eternal purpose.

About Those Old White Men

About Those Old White Men

One of my earliest memories of church when I was a little girl was peering over the rows of pews in front of me to watch our pastor passionately slap the pulpit with his hand. His tears flowed freely as he begged sinners to come to Jesus. When the sermon ended, our small town church people started milling around, hugging, chatting, no one in a real hurry to get home to their dinner tables. I decided that I would put my head down and search for my dad, using only the style of the men’s shoes as a guide. I was playing a game by myself, testing my own knowledge of my dad’s well-worn brown dress shoes. Finally, I spotted the familiar feet of my dear old dad and impulsively grabbed his hand, thinking nothing of it. It was only then that I looked up to see the very surprised face of my elementary school principal. He smiled warmly at me and held onto my hand as if it were an every day occurrence. I left church that day thinking about those two men in particular: my teary-eyed pastor and my smiling principal. About passion for Jesus. About kindness and comfort.

A Mile Down Main Stree

A Mile Down Main Street

I have enjoyed discussing my 5 a.m. appearances in the middle of Main Street almost every morning. The people who recognize me asked, “What the heck are you doing in the street so early in the morning?” One lady visiting her daughter stopped me on my way back home, and she asked if my walking was part of my regular exercise regimen. But I do not think of my early morning walks as exercise. Instead, I have convinced myself that I am casually walking a mile down Main Street.

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The Olney Enterprise

213 E. Main St.
PO Box 577

Olney, Texas 76374


Phone: (940) 564-5558

Fax: (940) 564-3992