Chapel of Hope Stories

Dear Reader:

If you ever find yourself in the mountains, valleys, or even swamps … look around … some of the trees staring down on you should make you feel like a ” spring” chicken… just in time for spring!!!

The tree in the title picture is found in the White Mountains of the Inyo Valley in eastern California. It is considered one of the magnificent ” ancients” that have survived over 4000 years! Aren’t you feeling younger already?

However the oldest tree to date is actually called the Methuselah Tree and and comes in at an awesome 4,850 years! Except for a few dendrologists ( tree scientists) the oldest tree named Methuselah and its location will never be revealed publicly for fear of it being cut down and/ or kidnapped.

It is mind blowing to think this grove of trees began germinating before the pyramids of Egypt were even built-they have survived all recorded human history!

Closer to home ( not as old as the California bristlecone pines) is Three Sisters Swamp on the Black River in North Carolina where tourists canoe to see our own Methuselah trees-they are living bald cypress-they once were saplings before Rome was an empire( three millennia)

So until tomorrow… the next time you feel ” ancient “… have a long conversation with a tree-you will learn about perseverance, courage, and the ” pursuit of life through determination.” It will make you happy!

Today is my favorite day-Winnie the Pooh

A God Wink …a musician by the name of Charlton came to talk to the students at Philip Simmons school yesterday and during his discourse he must have mentioned musicians he played with and one was Lee Barbour-Rutledge proudly let him know Lee was his uncle. Then Susan said that Charlton had been at her school ( Spann Elementary) one year and they had become good friends. Small world… Charlton is still sharing his love of music with the future!

Dear Reader:

How many times throughout our life have we prayed to God to show us our own unique purpose on earth… the purpose, we have been told, cannot be accomplished by anyone else. In a sense it is ours and our only nomenclature… specifically devised for us by our Creator.

Yet for many of us, and I am one of the ” many”… we spend a good portion of our lives searching for this seemingly elusive purpose. And sometimes it takes a catastrophic event to show us our path to follow. As painful and scary as this can be… we discover how life changes when we change our path.

What got me thinking along these lines were some observational comments from my ” dear friend, traveling buddy, and teaching soulmate” Carol Poole in response to the blog post on St. Jude’s Chapel of Hope last week… and finding my purpose… to share stories for and from those who can no longer orally tell it themselves.

Carol wrote when she first received the news about my initial daunting diagnosis back in 2008 …she couldn’t understand the ” why” behind it until suddenly the blog post ( Chapel of Hope Stories) began appearing daily. She knew then, that no matter what happened chronically, I had found my purpose.

And then a God Wink confirmed this awareness through…what else? A story she discovered. It was the love of storytelling through Social Studies that had brought us together in the first place…. traveling around the state doing teacher workshops together.

Quick Overview: All the people of the forest stay amazed at the speed of the bird known as She Who Flies Swiftly. She is like a bright light among the forest green. Until… one day she is found floundering on the leafy ground with a broken wing.

As the people watch …the Creator arrives to hold her hand and bring comfort… but to their dismay… not heal her wing. Why did the Creator not heal her completely?

Left alone the lame bird begins to sing quietly at first. With time the song becomes more beautiful and if one listens carefully the song becomes a duet… with the soft accompaniment of the Creator himself.

At last the true purpose was clear… healing can come in many different ways releasing our true purpose in life… as the Creator intended.

Carol had found the perfect metaphor… it was time to share my story with God’s story… my true purpose unveiled. Carol wrote me and reiterated this same observation…I could reach more people through my new path now. No longer hurriedly rushing from presentation to presentation but thoughtfully taking time to release my ” voice ” … from my tiny speck in the universe.

So until tomorrow… ” We are not always repaired, instead we are re-created.” Ray Buckley

Today is my favorite day. Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

One of the most popular shows on television is the CBS Sunday Morning Show. It is probably, also, the most taped ( to watch later.)

Have you ever wondered where all the striking creative sun artworks come from? I have and so decided to find out. The answer: ” We the people” and Sunday Morning Associate Director-Jessica Frank.

For over two decades she has been handpicking every ” shining” example of Sun artwork to appear after each individual story segment … besides the beginning and ending suns.

The idea and tradition started decades ago when the first unsolicited suns showed up in the ” Sunday Morning” mailbox. Some sun artworks might be used fairly quickly depending on the stories and best matches for it. Others she saves for a ” rainy” day -Frank always gets excited when a stored painting finally fits a story-perhaps years after being sent

The varied materials used in the creation of the personal sun artworks is astonishing! They truly are made from every material under the sun…. hubcaps, figs, vegetables, glass, sea shells, chili peppers, duct tape, Lego bricks and post/it-notes. … to name a few.

Obviously some noted artists have joined in the fun too but still the majority seen on the show are from ” the people.”

This sun artwork seems appropriate today -the first day of Spring!

One of Jessica Frank’s favorite artworks was a decorated egg with the CBS Sun on one side and image of Charles Kuralt on the other.

So until tomorrow…

Today is my favorite Day-Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

Amid all the fun craziness of ☘️ St. Patrick’s Day and Lachlan’s birthday, Honey sent me a picture of their state magazine’s cover for April and there, in all its charm and beauty, was ( another Saint close to me) St. Jude’s Chapel of Hope!

It all came under an article entitled…A Springtime Tour of 9 HISTORIC CHURCHES. ( But as you can see St Jude’s Chapel of Hope rose above all the others… making the front cover of the NC State magazine.)

The cover photo depicts the quaint little chapel from the angle across from Spring Creek- the perfect name with Spring arriving tomorrow! However it is the title of the article that brings us our story today … ” PEACE LIKE a RIVER…”

Ironically the creation of this favorite old gospel song…starts with a tragedy… a terrible tragedy! The author and creator of this favorite ageless song was Horatio Spafford-a Chicago lawyer and respected friend of the city’s most prominent evangelists

The Spaffords, even before their life-altering tragedy… had certainly had their share of life’s challenges. They had five children-four daughters and one son who died from pneumonia… the same year the Great Chicago Fire destroyed so much of Chicago and Horatio had to rebuild his career from the ” ashes up.”

Soon after …their family physician advised Horatio that a trip abroad might be good for his wife ‘s tenuous health. But right before he, his wife Anna and their four daughters were to leave …last minute business matters delayed Horatio’s departure. Still his wife and daughters sailed, as scheduled, on the SS Vi’ e du Havre in November 1873.

Midway a ship collided with the Stafford’s ship …sinking it in a small matter of time. Anna and her four daughters held hands and prayed together but it was only Anna, who was later discovered (by a lone sailor) floating on a piece of wreckage.

She sent her husband a telegraph message ” Saved Alone-What Shall I Do? ”

Later, a daughter ( Bertha) born after the tragedy told her father’s ” rest of the story.” He quickly sailed to join his wife… one day during the passage, midway across the Atlantic, the captain pulled Horatio up to the captain’s cabin and pointed around him -it was where his family’s ship went down.

Though still grieving her father experienced a moment right then when a ” supernatural” ” peace like a river” enveloped him.

In 1904 the traditional song was included in the Baptist Hymnal in Nashville Tennessee. ( adding the refrain ” It is well , it is well in my soul. )

Later three more children ( another died from pneumonia) blessed the Spafford family. . In 1881 they moved to Jerusalem where Horatio Spafford died.

So until tomorrow… ” And the peace of GOD which surpasses all understanding shall guard your hearts, your minds … through Jesus Christ. ” Philippians 4: 7

Today is my favorite day-Winnie the Pooh

So glad St Patrick’s Day was bright and sunny Friday because yesterday was chilly and raining … luck of the Irish! But before I left Friday I took pictures of new life popping up!

Dear Reader:

Walsh and Mollie decided that this was the year they wanted to introduce and infuse Lachlan with his Irish heritage… customs, foods, music and stories. After all he’s the St Paddy’s Day baby… born on the 17th of March.

…But between the St. Patrick’s Day downtown parade and heavy traffic congestion we decided to skip Tommy Condons, most famous Irish pub in Charleston, (two blocks waiting line) and simply find a parking place and let fate take its course… and it did.

On the way to a parking garage that still had a vacancy sign… Walsh dropped all of us off at another Irish Pub-Bumpa’s . Little did we know the surprises inside.

By the time Walsh joined us we had worked our way inside and the lovely ” seater” found us the best table in the place. We could watch all the pedestrians in green walk by…

And the food… we ordered several plates and divided it up… so everyone got corn beef hash, mashed potatoes, cabbage, beef stew and all kinds of fun interesting appetizers!

It was such a festive atmosphere inside with a guitarist singing a mixture of old and new tunes. Then Rutledge told me to look out the window next to him and there was a bagpiper… and then two, three… so many I quit counting…they were playing upbeat ballads and military songs, along with drums and flutes! And then they entered the pub and just blew us away.

A quick history lesson -We were so thrilled with the marching band but the bagpipes were throwing me off.. I think Scots with bagpipes, not Irish musicians -so when I got home I looked up marching bagpipers, drummers and flutists… and guess what music is the great unifier!

On the first St Patrick’s Day parade in Boston March 17, 1737, the Scots-Irish ( descendants of Ulster in Northern Ireland ) all gathered in their kilts, bagpipes, flutes. and drums to perform. From the start America’s ” Melting Pot” blended once sworn enemies into friends… diversity… the core behind American democracy.

After the performance one drummer came over to our table -after chatting with us and discovering it was Lachlan ‘a birthday-he returned with a ” fellow” bagpiper who played Happy Birthday to Lachlan on bagpipes! A memory for the ages!

The whole place erupted into applause and sang Happy Birthday to Lachlan!

So until tomorrow…

Today is my favorite day… Winnie the Pooh

Eloise went to her pre-school since they were open yesterday… ( teacher workday for Rut and Lachlan’s teachers) so this St Patrick’s day was even more special!! No School!

Dear Reader:

In 2005 a decision was made in Dublin politics to restore the original Irish Gaelic language to areas where it was still being used more provincially…. like Dingle Peninsula and it’s harbor town Dingle. English out – on road signs and new symbols went up warning tourists to use the new maps being provided. They were entering Gaelic Irish country.

This road sign informs visitors they are entering an area of Ireland where there is a ” vibrant community of Gaelic Irish that is spoken. ( For over 2000 years)

As divided as our country is now you can only imagine how divisive this imposed decision by another city was . Dingle had been Dingle for over seven centuries. It was short and fun to say and ” captured the imagination producing a feeling of lightness and optimism!”

Tourism had become the number one ” industry ” ( especially in the summer months) in Dingle and the bulk of tourists spoke English. ***Visitors and tourists outnumber the approximate 1500 town population by 6 to 1!

So the independent Dingle citizens made sure that businesses were exempt from using just Gaelic Irish but that they could use English alone or together with Gaelic Irish. ( Still they feared tourists might get ” befuddled and confused “by the missing former English road signs. ) * By the time I was in Ireland I am pretty sure both languages were used on road and town signs.

So today the locals can call the town anything they want… including Fungie/the adopted dolphin ( if they wanted to) who became the beloved mascot of Dingle until 2020 when one day it never appeared again. ( I loved Fungie! )

… And actually when Anne and I went to Dingle in 2014 adult tourists and summer students were flocking to Dingle to learn Gaelic Irish-students took three week courses and lived with Dingle families during their stay.

My name in Gaelic Irish is Rebecca ( Riobhea) Dingle ( An Daingean) Daingean means a fortress. ***The full surname of DINGLE is Daingean Ui Chuis-the fortress of the Husseys. ( a Norman family who arrived after the invasion)

*** A little Irish humor today on St. Patrick’s Day… Riobhea An Daingean Ui Chius ( Rebecca Dingle) OR instead like Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farms …my name would be in Irish… Rebecca of the Fortress of Husseys! 😂

So until tomorrow…. Happy St Patrick’s Day!

Today is my favorite day… Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

Tomorrow is the day designated for St Patrick-the Patron Saint of Ireland, among many other countries! It is the day everyone wants to be Irish and attempts at Irish broques are downright laughable! ( especially as the day wears on)

” Saints Alive”, of course, is an expression that projects astonishment at something extraordinary … Grandmother Wilson always followed star gazing (with the grandchildren on summer nights) with that expression… followed by her personal addendum “How awesome is the handiwork of God.”

Even though the word ” saint” is used to describe someone-a friend, neighbor, mentor, etc. who continuously helps others during their personal struggles… the Catholic Church’s reference is to a heavenly being who, while alive on earth, performed at least two miracles . ( Before a ” Blessed” can be canonized the person must have been deceased for five years.)

Gin-g laughed and sent me a comment that she might be Baptist but every time she loses anything…she turns to Saint Anthony… the Patron Saint of lost objects. ( affectionately nicknamed… Saint ” Car Keys!” )

Looking back on my own revelations the first time Honey Burrell took me to St Jude’s Chapel of Hope … it was, no doubt, Saint Anthony who pushed me to accept Mike and Honey’s excited invitation to visit the chapel.

On the way there in July of 2010 I heard Bill and Beverly Barutio’s names for the first time. Once inside the chapel that warm July day… I knew I was home. Immediately an inner voice said softly ” Go where you feel most alive.” I was there! Beverly was there!

Beverly Barutio kept her promise to St Jude… when she prayed for restored health in 1981 …after advanced cancer had pervaded and spread throughout her body. (Saint Jude is the Saint of ” Improbable but not Impossible causes.” )

She thanked her doctors for all their efforts but no more chemo… she turned to faith for healing. And in exchange for more time with loved ones… she would build a chapel for all who sought refuge from life’s afflictions. It was finished exactly ten years later! St Jude’s Chapel of Hope.

Beverly always said that ” If just one person comes” it would all have been worth it. ” I knew then we were kindred spirits, not because of ” little c” or as she called her cancer ” an annoyance ” but because when I nervously started the blog post ” Chapel of Hope Stories” I told myself that if I just had one reader… it would have been worth it.” ( Beverly and I were both surprised and excited that this was not the case. )

Several years ( 2011) ago Honey and I met Bob Hurley, reporter from the Greenville Sun newspaper, who told me that Beverly and I would have been instant friends.. we were so much alike. It reinforced my initial feeling of camaraderie… two worlds joined together.

And throughout it all… there is Honey-the epitome of generosity and kindness… who always brightens my life with her everlasting friendship. To me… she should be crowned ” Miss Pineapple” every year for her southern hospitality… she is my saint!

So until tomorrow… ” Saints Alive!” Surround yourselves with the everyday saints in your life and the eternal ones too. There is no such thing as having too many saints in your life!

Today is my favorite day-Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

Whether you are still digging out from snow or pulling out your shorts and t-shirts… St. Patrick’s Day ☘️ is almost here! And you can always go green inside …if white dominates your outside surroundings. March has either gone extraordinarily warm – breaking records or extraordinarily cold – breaking records…depending on your location.

I actually thought ahead on the table centerpiece… when Brooke and I went to Beaufort a few weeks ago…we visited the Beaufort Restore. Someone was ready to get rid of their St Patrick’s Day paraphernalia while I wanted to acquire it for Lachlan’s birthday… who was and is the real treasure coming on St Patrick’s Day… almost 8 years ago! Hard to believe. (***I know what is at the end of the rainbow… my precious treasure- Lachlan! )

Last year… I spent hours researching St Patrick and realized …that even after separating the folklore and myth from reality… a movie should be made on St Patrick’s life because it would be an immediate block-buster!

Sneak Review… Marwyn Suceat ( Scottish name) was born in Great Britain ( Wales today) He was kidnapped at 16 by one of the notorious Irish raiding parties who made slaves of young teenagers -forced to risk their lives tending and protecting sheep and lambs from dangerous predators.

Patrick prayed for deliverance while his family , particularly his father, a man known for his strong faith, never gave up hope for his son’s return. Six years later Patrick courageously escaped and found his way home. The family was overjoyed… particularly when he decided to enter the priesthood.

But soon ” voices ” started coming to him…at night and in his dreams-relentless in its repetition. The ” voices” told him to return to Ireland … this time as a missionary. Can you imagine returning to the place of terror that held you captive all those years… to bring religion to people, like the Irish raiders, who murdered and captured young people… bonding them in slavery…but Patrick did just that…

Today he is known … as the Patron Saint of Ireland and is celebrated in more countries than any other national festival.

***To locate and read the entire story I wrote on St. Patrick last St Patrick’s Day… ( March 17, 2022) google ” The Amazing Story of St. Patrick” ( chapelofhopestories)

So until tomorrow…

Today is my favorite day… Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

On a chilly, cloudy, dreary ” fools’ spring” day… ( yesterday) the fabulous Jo Dufford came a’ calling… and she was sorely needed.

I was overdue for her homespun humor and knee-slapping laughter. Get two old history teachers together and the stories start flowing. I need to remember to record one of these impromptu story ” jam” sessions!

Jo arrived bringing spring… literally… starting with Peeps and a ” Spring Green” rabbit vase with artificial greenery… that like the theme of Easter is eternal… just have to dust off the leaves in future years. Loving it!

Then she told me about a funny weather chart that showed up on her computer by one of our local weathermen-Bill Walsh on CBS. She emailed it to me and then we shared laughter over ” The Twelve Seasons of South Carolina.”

Even though the arrow points to Fool’s Spring… (and with the weather turning southern ” wintry” this week it does apply) I think we are farther along than that. Our Pollening is almost over ( thank goodness) and ” actual spring” has azaleas starting to wither. It would be a great time, however, to have a wedding celebration around the front yard pear tree with all the white blooms lying on the ground.

Tomorrow I am going to the gardens to give my George Patton speech since Wednesday and Thursday morning are hovering in the freezing zone inland.

Something along the theme of ” When the going gets tough… the tough get going.”You know what to do garden- take cover and stay strong … only the strong survive! 🫵

So until tomorrow…

Today is my favorite day-Winnie the Pooh

Here are two cuties … with new haircuts-Atticus and Pip

Dear Reader:

Roald Dahi ( Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) once wrote ” Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”

I, for one, could not live in a world without magic… it became my protective armor when I was a child, when tragic events, beyond our family’s control, brought too much reality home… my great escape…I could climb into the crabapple tree, with a book, that took me far away from the sorrows of one lost parent and later a close call with losing another to bone cancer-instead mother raising me and my two brothers, single-handedly … after the loss of her left hand to the disease.

Reading was my magic… my escape and peek into others’ lives that were so different from my own. But it just wasn’t books that brought magic into my life, but family traditions that provided me with the magic I needed to escape situations that were incomprehensible to a child.

In one article I read on childhood magic it listed four positive initiatives that come from magical beliefs: Children feel empowered, creativity as adults blossoms, provides well-loved and preserved memories and traditions and develops adult playful mindset.

I grew up lying on the grass, on hot summer nights, watching and wishing on stars, especially the first star seen in the night sky. To this day I still can’t pass a wishing well or fountain without throwing a penny in-along with a wish.

Magical traditions are so important to children who carry these memories into adulthood …revisiting them with the next generation-their own children. How many of you have had married adult children return home and have a ” fit” because, maybe, you forgot to include a traditional ornament-like maybe changing the topper on the Christmas tree… and suddenly back to the attic your adult child goes to retrieve the angel with the broken wing. No changes wanted!

I found the sweetest story about a grown daughter who brought her children back home to go to the beach with grandpa because he always found the most magical seashells with the best stories around. It was a favorite recollection from her own childhood.

At 32… she was shocked when she caught her dad in the beach gift shop buying elaborate and unique seashells to hide in the sand while the grandchildren played in the surf. Now watching him, from an adult perspective, she could only thank her lucky ( magical) stars that she, and now her children, had this ” magical” man in their lives to provide precious traditions and memories forever.

So until tomorrow… ” Playful energy is the kind of thing that one wishes could be put in a bottle- to keep forever-absolutely priceless. “

Today is my favorite day -Winnie the Pooh

The Greek Orthodox Church of the Holy Trinity

The family was gathered yesterday at this beautiful and historical church for Rhea’s christening. Rhea was ready for her special day… calm, cool, collected while the rest of us held our breath at this important memorable moment in her life.

And afterwards celebration time with good food and of course…. Greek dancing!