Think on Good Things exists to simply share positive, funny, and uplifting stories and information of people, places, and things. Thinking on Good Things can provide a boost for any day! I hope you enjoy!
Photo memories on my phone came up tonight – reminding me that two years ago was such an incredibly special evening. I thought I would tell you about it….because it is a dear and treasured memory for me….and because it displays a glimpse of excellence that I will explain.
Exactly two years ago this evening, my mother was living in a beautiful little apartment at an assisted living facility. She had only been there a couple of months, but she had already made many friends – including her three table mates in the dining room. Each resident had an assigned seat – and Mother had formed fast friendships with the folks at her table. She enjoyed visiting with them, but she also focused on listening to them and supporting them however she could. As her disease progressed, it became harder for her to walk to the dining area – and so she began eating in her room. She missed her friends and often wondered how they were doing.
Two years ago tonight, one of the nurses – a precious young woman named Victoria, organized a little dinner party. All of the people working there were so busy, but Victoria and some of the other wonderful caregivers found time to bring down tables and chairs to Mother’s apartment. They even had flowers and cheesecake and a little plant to give her as a gift. After setting up the room, they then delivered four carefully prepared meals from the kitchen – and Mother and her three table mates ate together happily in her room that evening. While they were eating and laughing and teasing and talking and catching up – I sat in the other room and just listened. I listened to the happy sounds and was filled with such joy and appreciation for all of the effort. They truly sounded like teenagers!
After they were gone, Mother chattered happily for quite a while – excited about the evening.
It may not seem like a lot (actually it does!) – carrying down tables….and chairs….and getting flowers….and cheesecake….and food….while serving everyone else and making sure all residents’ needs were attended to…
In fact, it was a lot – a lot of work, a lot of effort, and a lot of care. It was definitely going above and beyond….it was a true glimpse of excellence.
When the pictures came up in the photo memories on my phone tonight – I sat and smiled thinking back on that wonderful evening.
It is a precious, treasured memory – and I am forever grateful to each person who had a part in making it happen.
I said a little prayer for Mrs. Hunter Gates and her family this week. I guess that’s a little strange because I’ve never met Mrs. Gates, never spoken with her, and in truth I know almost nothing about her. In fact, I am not even certain that she is still living…
Okay, let me back up a bit…
I really enjoy cooking, and I like trying new recipes. It’s popular today to find recipes through internet searches – and I know that can provide a real convenience … .but for me, I much prefer tried and true recipes when I can….recipes that are shared from people – family, friends, or even strangers. Recipes that are handed down through generations – that have traveled with families as they moved about, that have been saved carefully because they are important. The connections these recipes provide make preparing and enjoying meals all the more significant and special. For example – baking a Mexican Chicken casserole using my Mam-ma’s recipe adds a whole new dimension to the cooking experience….connecting me to her, to all the times she baked and served and enjoyed that same casserole to dear family and friends…connecting me to wonderful, loving memories. I can close my eyes and be transported in my mind to her kitchen – smelling the wonderful smells and feeling the love that she shared.
Preparing my “Creamy Tacos” recipe given to me by my mentor teacher, Marti Hancock, early in my teaching career connects me to her…..and to my teaching team at Branson Cedar Ridge….and to all the wonderful memories of my students during those years when I was learning the craft of my profession.
When I make baked eggs for breakfast, a unique and delicious recipe from my cousin Nicki Jean, I am reminded of all the Beeson quail breakfasts on Christmas mornings in Hattieville through the years – the first place I ever tried baked eggs…and it makes me smile and be thankful for those wonderful times.
When I travel, I often search for a local cookbook to bring home as a memento of the place I have visited. Each region of the country has such unique food preferences, cooking styles, and culture. I especially like church cookbooks or junior league cookbooks….because the recipes in these are carefully selected by folks who have taken great pride in preparing unique and delicious dishes for family and friends. The recipes they have chosen to be printed are some that they consider their best….and they are sharing them to bring joy to others.
When I visited Biloxi and Jackson, Mississippi many years ago (2008) for a t-ball tournament my nephew played in, I purchased a cookbook called “Southern Sideboards” which was organized and sold by the Junior League of Jackson, Mississippi. On page one, it states that it features “tested recipes”….and boy, they weren’t kidding. First published in 1978, the cookbook was in its 17th printing and was listed as a “Southern Living Hall of Fame” winner when I purchased it. Of all my cookbooks, it has become one of my very favorites through the years, because it’s so reliable! Every recipe I have prepared from this book has been so good.
This week, I tried a new one – “Wild Rice Quiche” by Mrs. Hunter Gates. I was looking for a new quiche recipe – and this one caught my eye because it was so unique…..and because I love wild rice. It was very easy to prepare, and it turned out to be delicious. I will make it again! (That’s the mark of a good recipe for me – will I make it again? If the answer is yes, that means it’s a winner!)
Okay….forgive me….back to the beginning. Whenever my sweet Mother prepared a recipe given to her by a friend or family member, she tried to always say a simple prayer for that person….and she taught me to do the same.
A great cook herself – Mother would often be asked for her recipes – and she would gladly share them. Many years ago, she began including a handwritten note at the end of each one.
“Please say a prayer for me when you make this recipe.”
It was a simple request – but such a very powerful one. Can I be honest? When I was younger, I was a little embarrassed when Mother started writing the little phrase on her recipe cards. I worried (too much!) about what people would think of it….thinking perhaps they would think it silly or inappropriate…
I’ve grown up – and I do not feel embarrassed of it anymore. Instead, I am very proud – and very grateful for her example and the lessons she taught me!
In today’s world, social communication platforms, busy schedules, changing social norms, and even the media seem (in my opinion) sometimes bent on dividing us – on breaking down connections and in some ways even encouraging isolation.
Isn’t it much better when we enjoy, support, respect, and care about one another? More importantly, isn’t it a powerful and wonderful privilege and responsibility to pray for one another?
Many of us say a blessing over our meals, we pray for family and friends….and a lot of us say a prayer for strangers when we see an ambulance or emergency vehicle pass by. How fitting that we can also say a quick prayer for others when a trigger brings them to our mind….a trigger such as a recipe they have shared with us. I think it is actually a pretty great idea!
James 5:16
“Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working”
18 And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.
When I was a little girl, folks didn’t carry checkbooks in Conway County, AR – because there was simply no need. Businesses had “counter checks” – checks with no individual account numbers printed on them – available by the register at every business. Customers just took a counter check, filled it out as we do any check, signed their name and paid their bill. It was a far simpler time – when trust was something valued and respected. Things were different than they are today…
In first grade, I rode the school bus from Hattieville, AR to Wonderview, AR – around 8 – 10 miles one way. With all the stops, it took a while to get to and from school. On the way home in the afternoons, the bus had to turn off the highway to drop off some kids down a dirt road that ran beside Beeson’s Grocery – my Great-Uncle O.V.’s little country store…….that his dad (my great-granddad) bought around the turn of the 20th century and ran until his death.
Any of we kids that wanted to were allowed to get off the bus and wait at the store until the bus got back. (Let me restate – much simpler, more trusting times.) If we were lucky, we had some change in our pockets and we could buy something at the store – a Coca-Cola, a candy bar, or my favorite – a frozen orange sherbet push-up. If we were without any cash, we could just run around and play outside until we had to climb back onto the bus. It was a MUCH better day when we had some pocket change! 🙂
One day, Miss Betty (my first grade teacher) taught all of us about writing checks. To this day, I’m really not certain WHY we were taught that in the first grade, but I remember how much fun it was to write them on those blank practice checks she had. We felt like big stuff!
Application of new knowledge is always important – and I was ready to put mine into place that afternoon when we clambered off the bus. I walked into my Uncle O.V’s store and picked up a bag of nacho cheese Doritos, a Coca-Cola, some peanuts, a box of candy cigarettes, a Snickers bar, and best of all – an orange sherbet push-up. I piled all of my treasures on the counter in front of O.V. He watched me quietly and calmly as I picked up a counter check, filled it out as I had been taught, signed my first name “LISA” in large block letters, and looked to him for the total. Grinning very slightly, he rang everything up and gave me the amount. I finished the check carefully and handed it to him – and he handed me my bag of goodies.
I left the store SO excited to tell Mother what I had learned that day. We could have ANYTHING WE WANTED – ANYWHERE – as long as they had counter checks available! It was like winning the lottery!!! I thought I had discovered the Promised Land! I smiled all the way home and got off the bus with the plastic push-up stick still in my mouth – happily carrying my bag of precious loot.
When Mother heard my story, she did not have the great enthusiasm and joy I had eagerly anticipated. She explained to me that in order to WRITE checks – you first had to put MONEY in the bank. What a crushing disappointment! She then further dashed my hopes by telling me that we had to take all of those precious items in my sack back to O.V. and pay him for the push-up I had enjoyed on my bus ride home.
When we got back to the store, O.V. was chuckling and insisted that I keep all of my dishonestly purchased items. He tacked that check up on the wall behind the register and kept it there proudly for a long, long time. I loved it – and I loved him. I have never forgotten how kind he was that day – how kind he always was to me – and what a wonderful man he was. I loved him dearly – and I miss him very much. An ex-Marine, he was generous, tough, soft-hearted, quiet, kind, hardworking, and just an overall great man.
For the first nine years of my life, I lived in the wonderful, cozy little community of Hattieville, Arkansas. Long before my time, Hattieville had boasted several businesses including a hotel, a school, a blacksmith shop, a livery, and more. However, when I was born in late ’60’s, the Hattieville I knew consisted of churches, a wonderful community building (the old school), the ball field, a post office…..and Beeson’s Grocery.
Much like the “Whistle Stop Cafe” in the old movie “Fried Green Tomatoes”, Beeson’s Grocery has been in many ways the heart of the town for over 100 years. The proud general store opened in 1892 and was purchased by my great-grandfather, Oscar Virgil Beeson a few years later. My great-granddad also purchased the house that sits beside the store, and made it his home. The adjoining properties became a treasured gathering place for family and friends through the years.
In the spring of 1951, while tending his garden located behind the store, my great-granddad suffered a heart attack and passed away – shocking his family and the community with the loss. From every story I have ever heard about him, he was a kind, intelligent, strong, and caring man. My Daddy and his brothers have told me many wonderful tales about their granddad – and I am grateful for those memories they shared with me…and honored to be his great-granddaughter. I know his death left a hole in the family.
But Beeson’s Grocery continued on…
His only son, Oscar Virgil “O.V.” Beeson, Jr., a former Marine, and his wife Bernie, a school teacher, settled into Hattieville to keep the family business alive. When I was a little girl growing up, going to the store was what you did in Hattieville. There was always someone to see and visit with….kids to play with….Coca-Colas out of the ice-cold chest cooler to drink, bologna or salami sandwiches to eat…and great stories to hear and enjoy. Like his father, O.V. was a kind and caring man. I’ve told the story before about the time when, as a first grader, I wrote a hot check at Beeson’s Grocery and loaded up on all kinds of treats. It’s pretty funny. Click here if you’re interested in that one. My uncle O.V. was a good man, and I loved him dearly.
When O.V. retired, his daughter Nicki Jean took over operations and ran the store for almost 30 years. Her sharp wit and fun personality brought even more charm and enjoyment to the grand old store.
The old wood stove near the back of the store was a place to pull up a chair and visit, eat a bite, or just sit and relax. It was warm and welcoming and homey and wonderful. For me, it was also special to know that family members I love, as well as many family members I never had the privilege of meeting because they were gone before I was born – had shopped and visited and laughed and eaten and gathered in that old store.
When I was nine, my parents and I moved away from Hattieville to northwest Arkansas because Daddy had gotten a new job. We always went back home to Hattieville several times a year to see family and friends, and sit at the store and visit…because even though it was a place to buy gas and groceries and sandwiches and snacks and supplies…it was actually so much more. It was a place that connected so many…a place that lingered pleasantly in the minds of anyone who has ever visited Hattieville…the place, in fact, that most people picture when the name Hattieville is mentioned.
When my cousin Nicki retired almost two years ago, the store was sold to new owners, Mike and LaDonna Bicanovsky who enthusiastically worked to expand and update the business to preserve the legacy and tradition of the store.
However, sometimes good things do come to an end.
Yesterday, I made the familiar drive to Hattieville to see Beeson’s Grocery one more time – because for the first time in over 100 years it has closed its doors. For me, it is a very painful loss….and I am hoping that someone will purchase the business and reopen it once more. For now though, this historic building sits silent and alone.
Famed poet Maya Angelou once said in an interview that spoken words are significant ….they have power and impact….and once they are spoken they “stick forever in the walls” . I love that.
The old walls at Beeson’s Grocery are full of so many rich stories and laughter and learning and love. I am so grateful that I got to be a tiny thread in the beautiful tapestry of vast memories it holds.
