It's the Little Things...

Friday afternoon, as I was walking back to my office from a classroom, one of our teachers called my name and told me that I looked beautiful.   It came out of nowhere and was totally unexpected.  Three words, “You look beautiful” changed the rest of the day for me.  I felt a warm glow of love and simple joy as I went about finishing up the work week.  It’s remarkable what an impact a few words can have and I’ve been reflecting on those little things that make me smile, bring me joy and make an ordinary moment extraordinary.

Here’s a few of my little things right now:

Cooler weather -  I live in Phoenix and the summers are brutal.  By the middle of September, I am through with triple-digit temperatures and just when I feel like I can’t take another day of air conditioning, the heat begins to break.  I am now driving to work with my windows down relishing the cool breeze.  It’s still 100 degrees in the afternoon but the mornings make it tolerable.

Chick-Fil-A Diet Lemonade - I gave up drinking diet sodas back in February of this year and I know my body is healthier for it.  But I often found myself craving something else to drink besides tea and water.  Enter Chick-Fil-A’s diet lemonade.  On a whim I bought a cup hoping that it wouldn’t taste like lemon flavored water.  One sip and I knew this was no ordinary lemonade!  It is tangy and lemony and absolutely refreshing!  My taste buds sing when I treat myself to this wonderful cup of deliciousness!  And a large only has 30 calories…what more could I ask for in a glass of icy goodness?

Adhesive - Sounds strange I know, but I am a scrapbooker and adhesive is a must have.  Good adhesive is important to creating long-lasting scrapbook pages.  I never have enough adhesive.  Tape runners, glue dots, pop dots, liquid glue, spray adhesive…the list goes on and I am always running out.  So getting a new refill for my tape runner or opening a fresh package of pop dots always brings a smile to my face.

My Prayer Group - This may sound like a big thing and it is but there’s a lot of little things that I cherish.   Like knowing that there will always be hard boiled eggs and homemade muffins to enjoy or realizing that we are creatures of habit and sit in the same seats every time we meet or having a box of my tea in the cabinet and a kettle of hot water waiting for me when I arrive.

My grandchildren - Sometimes it seems that there are literally thousands of them but in reality I have six beautiful little people in my life who call me Gramma.  These little souls make me laugh (they make me angry and make me cry too but that’s another blog) and I can’t get enough of it!  The oldest is 11 and the youngest is almost 4 months old and they all laugh with their whole beings!  Their laughter is such a gift to me.

New office supplies, pretty nail polish, a good hair day, a gentleman who holds a door open for me, there are so many little things that can make a day bright.  Sitting on my patio is a little pleasure for me right now after this long summer of being cooped up.  It’s the little things that sometimes matter most when you look at the big picture.  I know they say “don’t sweat the small stuff,” but I say we should also “cherish the little things” for they are the stuff that grace is made of!

The Value of Manual Labor

My heart overflows with noble words.  To the king I must speak the song I have made; my tongue as nimble as the pen of a scribe.  Psalm 45:2

This blog is my humble attempt to put my musings in print with the goal of glorifying the gifts my Heavenly Father has given me and honoring the earthly father who loved and raised me.  I plan to include all sorts of tasty tidbits that I encounter and share memories from my life in hope's that it piques someone's interest.

As it is Labor Day, I thought I'd share an expanded version of my Facebook post:

We no longer value "manual laborers".

My father, Robert, was a self-taught agricultural chemist.  This job evolved from many years as a migrant worker, walking the rows or on the back of a tractor.  He could look at a field and tell you what herbicide or pesticide a particular crop needed to ensure the best yield.  All his life he worked long hours, 6 days a week and though he smelled funny when he got home at the end of the day, it was honest work.  Something he was never ashamed of.

My brother, Rosendo, drove truck for a living.  His last job was with Waste Management for over 10 years.  He drove that garbage truck before they were automated so he was lifting cans into the back of the truck all day long.  He too worked long hours and smelled funny at the end of the day, but as far as I know, rarely complained.

Both of these men understood what a real work ethic meant and both could feel proud of their efforts.  My father and my brother are gone now but their work ethic is carried on.  I am proud of what my father and brother did for a living.  It was hard work that left their hands calloused, their endurance strong.  They never shirked working up a sweat or getting dirty to get something done.  They just did it.

Few people want to spend their days in the sun sweating anymore.  The preference is to keep your hands clean, your hair combed, your clothes spotless.  But skilled labor is just as valuable as that of attorney, doctor, analyst and scientist.  Without those men and women who labor sun up to sun down, the cows would not be milked, the crops would not be harvested, the garbage would not be picked up and the homes would not be built.

I consider myself blessed to be first generation out of the field.  To hold an AA and a Theology credential.  My father worked hard at his job so I could stay clean at mine.  I work hard to honor his efforts and to set the example for my own children.  And I remember a time in the not so distant past, when my dad would come home after a long, hard day at work, shake the dirt off his clothes and take off his boots.  He would grab a beer out of the fridge on his way to the shower, asking what was for dinner, I'm sure he was starving but he wouldn't dream of coming to the table still wearing the day's dirt.  What I wouldn't give to smell that funny chemical smell again as he walked in the door.  What I wouldn't give to say thank you just one more time.