Friday Tidings

As a teacher’s helper, I may have learned more than the kids..... The little wooden chairs encircled the small table. A large pile of soft dirt was piled on newspaper in the center. Already the boys had made roads into the small mountain. The Sunday school teacher smiled at their antics. She brought foam coffee cups with each one’s name written on the side. On the other side of the cup another word had been written. As she handed them out she explained the task. Take the dirt and fill the cups. Little hands moved into the mountain of dirt and soon the pile was nearly gone and ten cups were filled. She then held up a paper sack and shook it. “Can anyone guess what’s inside?” she asked. “Rocks!” a boy declared. “Candy!” another one shouted hopefully. She opened the bag and placed a single seed in each palm. “Now take a finger and make a hole in the middle of the dirt.”   Fingers poked the soil. Ten seeds were planted. We carried the cup

The heart-shaped message greets me every time I walk to my daughter’s home. Three little words packed with meaning. Take Your Time .  I remember hearing that as a child when my clumsy little hands cleared the dishes from the dinner table: Take your time—or you’ll break something. Then in first grade, Mrs. MacArthur would softly say, “Take your time, Karen. Color more slowly and you’ll stay in the lines.” Upon receiving my driver’s license, Dad cautioned,   “Take your time and you’ll never get a speeding ticket.” True then, true now. Take your time ,   my college professor advised, as I pondered my career choices. I put the groceries in the trunk and then slid into the driver’s seat. I looked over at my daughter. “She’s almost done.” my daughter said as her newborn finished eating.  Without really thinking about it, I said, “Take your time.” There it was again, the little heart shaped sign making its point. We wa