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Prayer for Peace
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, harmony; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that I may seek not so much to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.
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End of the road, pardners
Hope you enjoyed the ride
Y'all come back and ride again
4 comments:
Thanks for the headsup about the music - yes innumerable memories float by my mind as I see the images.
as a non-sequitur I remember my first adult visit to the UK in 1968 and my hostess asked me to pop around to the little market and get some bacon and a couple of things, (Inside the tiny room at the front of a house.) Within were four or five shelves with tinned food, a bin with perhaps two dozen potatoes and a glass case with the chunk of bacon. As a Yank from a very favored suburban lifestyle, I was overwhelmed by the simplicity of it.
I feel a bit homesick looking at those pics.
How interesting about the UK home store. In the South of my childhood, there were still a number of old houses - ordinary one-story types - that had been converted way back into grocery stores, all the inner partitions removed to make one big room - the ceiling supported by posts here and there. Not nearly the size of a supermarket, of course, but offered much the same variety of canned goods, produce, and even a refrigerated meat case. There was one just a block from my grandmother's house where we would sometimes walk to in the afternoon for a Coke and a treat.
They had all disappeared by the mid-70s I think - perhaps done in by the proliferation of convenience stores. There was an unpretentious charm about them, though, that is lacking in the slick modern world.
Much is lacking. If I go way back (!) to the early fifties I recall the local grocery store was still Victorian in it's appearance - those same poles erected as supports to the home of the owner above. Wonder Bread was 25 cents, cigarettes that I was ordered to get by my parents were 35 cents a pack. In the back half of the store (on Store Road) was the post office. I'm glad I experienced it all. I've had a wonderful life.
I was born just in time to see the old world fading away - penny candy, party lines, prop planes, Pullmans, politeness, and other antique things. The world that replaced it was not entirely to my liking - and now there is a whole 'nother world replacing that one, and it is horrifying.
Still, it's been an interesting journey from an historical perspective. In old age, you finally realize that each new generation is just a momentary wave on an endless ocean. I'm grateful I had my day and danced my dance.
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