Category: Teachers

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The House That Steel Built: Lessons in Grit from Edgar and Miss Allie Smith’s Front Porch

Allie Murray Smith

This morning I am sitting on the front porch of a historic home in Plains, Georgia known as Mother Allie’s House . Rain is falling softly and the birds are singing. Everything is peaceful and beautiful – and I am grateful for the opportunity to be here. This is the home where former First Lady of the United States, Rosalynn Carter, was raised along with her three siblings. Today, it is a beautifully preserved rental guest home/VRBO, lovingly and meticulously put together by the family to deeply reflect the warmth and history of someone I have discovered to be an absolutely remarkable woman – Mrs. Frances Allethea (Murray) Smith – affectionately known to many as “Miss Allie”.

​The family has generously placed many wonderful books about the Smith and Carter families in this house, making it easy to learn during your stay about the history of this home and the people who lived here.

By all accounts, Miss Allie’s early life was filled with the warmth of a happy childhood. Born just south of Plains on Christmas Eve, 1905, she was the deeply cherished daughter of John William “Captain” Murray and Rosa Nettie Wise Murray. Before Allie was born, her parents suffered a devastating heartbreak when their only son tragically passed away before reaching his first birthday. After that profound loss, Allie grew up essentially as an only child on the family farm. Knowing the sorrow her parents carried surely made them dote on her even more, pouring their love, protective attention, and family resources into their only daughter.

​In 1924, after Allie graduated from Plains High School, her parents did something truly extraordinary for a rural farming family: they sent her to college. To understand how vast that ambition was, you have to realize that during that era, less than 5% of all Americans held a college degree. It was a time when a woman’s opportunities were drastically limited, but Allie’s family obviously deeply valued the intellect of their daughter. She moved to Milledgeville to attend the Georgia State College for Women. There, she earned a degree in teaching, specializing in home economics, and graduated with her diploma on June 7, 1926.

​Less than two weeks later, on June 20, 1926, she married her sweetheart, Wilburn Edgar Smith, who was nine years her senior. Theirs was a rare, lifelong romance that had begun years earlier. Later in life, Allie would frequently tell her children that Edgar was the only man for her, and that she could never love another—a promise of absolute devotion she kept for the rest of her days.

​Historical records and Rosalynn Carter’s own memoirs reveal that Edgar Smith’s passion for education was rooted in his own deferred dreams. Edgar was an incredibly intelligent man, but because his own family needed him to work, he never had the opportunity to go to college himself. He spent his life surrounded by books, reading voraciously, and watching the world change. Because he couldn’t pursue higher education, he made it a mission of his life that each of his children would.

​To build a secure life for his new bride and the four children that soon followed—Eleanor Rosalynn, William Jerrold, Murray Lee, and Lillian Allethea—he became a true jack-of-all-trades. He was an avid farmer, a clerk at a local store, and a school bus driver. Most notably, he stepped up to meet the demands of the changing times by owning and operating the very first auto mechanic and repair shop in Sumter County….just down the street from where I’m sitting now. He was the man who kept the rural community moving forward, fixing the temperamental engines of early automobiles and maintaining the tractors that were revolutionizing modern farming. Beyond his manual labor and entrepreneurial drive, Edgar was a deeply respected civic leader, actively shaping the town’s future as an elected member of the Plains Town Council.

​Through genius and sacrifice, Edgar used his multiple jobs to quietly build a college fund for his children, methodically purchasing U.S. Savings Bonds and funneling every spare penny from his mechanic shop into a sacred, untouchable account. I am amazed that he was so forward thinking – that he valued education so much that he saved (during hard times) to send his children to college. Can you imagine?

​In 1928, when their eldest daughter Rosalynn was just a sixteen-month-old toddler, Edgar and Allie moved the family into a house on South Bond Street – the same house where I am spending the week. Together, they built a life here on a foundation of community service, visionary hard work, and family devotion…and looked forward to a long life together.

​However, in the late 1930s, Edgar fell terribly ill with leukemia – and at that time there were no effective treatments. For over a year, the family watched his health decline, comforted by local neighbors like Miss Lillian Carter—Jimmy Carter’s mother—who visited daily as a registered nurse to administer his routine medical injections. On October 22, 1940, Edgar passed away at home at the young age of 44.

​At just 35 years old, Miss Allie was suddenly a grieving widow with four young children and no job to support them. When you look at the ages of her children at the time of her husband’s death, the sheer weight of her new reality is staggering: Rosalynn was 13, Jerry was 11, Murray was 8 (turning eight on the exact day his father died), and Allethea was 3. In the immediate aftermath, a heartbroken Miss Allie penned a line that laid bare her grief:

“I miss him and I don’t know what I will do without him.”

​When Edgar died, he managed to leave behind a small inheritance and savings account for his family. But as Howard Norton details in Rosalynn, A Portrait, Rosalynn recalled that her mother fiercely resolved never to touch a single cent of that inheritance. She was determined to bring up and educate her children entirely through her own efforts, keeping Edgar’s sacred college fund intact. What a determined lady.

​The blows kept coming. Less than a year after losing her husband, Allie’s mother, Rosa, passed away at age 60. Suddenly, Allie was not only raising four small children alone, but her aging, grieving father, “Captain” Murray, came to live with them in the house. It is almost impossible to imagine how terrifyingly hard it must have been for her. For fourteen years, she had lived a sheltered life centered around being a protected homemaker. Now, she had to navigate intense, compounding family grief while carrying the sole financial survival and care of six people on her shoulders. I am sleeping in Miss Allie’s bedroom this week – and when I lay down at night I have been thinking about the weight of responsibility she must have felt – yet all of the stories I hear from others about her are stories of her love, her faith, her strength, and her joy. What a remarkable lady.

​To make a living, Miss Allie started taking in sewing. She didn’t just mend clothes; she took on master-level tailoring. She crafted beautiful, intricate wedding dresses—which quickly became one of her highly sought-after specialties—and she even tackled the incredibly difficult task of making tailored men’s suits and heavy overcoats from scratch. Ladies from the community valued her work. When they found a dress somewhere that they admired, she could study it and then make it for them. There are several examples of her work here in the house – and they are absolutely beautiful.

​One steady, dependable source of income came from the family farm – which she rented out instead of selling. However, even though she needed that cash to keep the household running, she insisted on funneling every single penny of that rent money straight into the untouchable savings for her children’s college funds.

​She took other work to support her family – working in the school cafeteria and as a grocery store clerk. After a few years, she took the federal civil service examination, passed it, and was awarded a position as an assistant to the postmaster at the local post office in Plains. It became a defining pillar of her life. She clocked in at 7:00 AM every single morning for 29 years, walking to work from this very house. She loved her job and the daily connection it gave her to the townspeople. When she reached the mandatory federal retirement age of 70, she was still sharp, energetic, and fully capable of working. She fought passionately against leaving, but federal regulations forced her to step down against her will—an experience that deeply saddened her.

​(In an incredible and wonderful twist of history, that mandatory retirement rule wouldn’t stand forever. Her son-in-law, President Jimmy Carter, signed the Age Discrimination in Employment Act Amendments into law, raising and eventually eliminating mandatory retirement ages for federal employees.)

​Even after her forced retirement, Allie refused to slow down, taking a part-time job at a local flower shop just to keep busy. Her younger son Murray beautifully remembered that while the family was technically poor, “she forgot to tell us.” No matter how hard things got, Murray recalled always getting exactly what he needed, whether it was a new pair of basketball shoes or a baseball glove. She encouraged her children to work early; Murray delivered papers, delivered groceries, clerked in the local store, and worked behind the soda fountain at the drug store before he was even 12 years old.

​In the book Rosalynn, A Portrait, the future First Lady reflected on the painful time when the family was dealing with the loss of her father, sharing a memory that would shape her forever:

​”We depended on mother for everything after father died. And that’s when I saw my mother develop into a strong, independent person, assuming full responsibility for the family and asking no help or charity from anyone. That made a deep impression on me. I’m sure it turned out to be a permanent influence.”

​In a beautiful personal tribute written later in life (found in the book Mother Allie’s Recipes), Rosalynn expanded on that legacy:

​”My mother was a wonderful role model for me. She was always there when I needed her; she had confidence in me and encouraged me in whatever I tried to do; and she taught me by her example… I watched her take charge, and do what she had to do. Those early experiences helped prepare me to accept my own challenges and do the best I could with them.”

​But Allie didn’t just provide food, clothes, and tuition—she anchored her children in something much deeper. Her son, Murray Lee Smith (named after Mother Allie’s maiden name), noted that his mother’s personal demonstration of Christianity in her life, combined with her insistence that her children go to Sunday school, church, and study the Bible regularly, gave them all a spiritual bedrock that never faltered. As Murray beautifully penned,

“We grew up seeing Christ through mother. She was a wonderful person and the greatest mother in the world.”

​As a single parent, Miss Allie had to serve as both mother and father to her children. Rather than ruling with an iron fist, she raised her children with intelligence and example. Her oldest son Jerry recalled how his mother uniquely used psychology on them when they started dating. Unlike the parents of almost all their peers, Miss Allie famously refused to lay down a strict, rigid curfew. Instead, she chose a tactic that was far more powerful and impactful. As Jerry remembered:

​”…Mother repeatedly impressed on us that she had tried all our lives to teach us what is right and what is wrong, and that if we hadn’t learned that by then, she had failed as a mother. Well, after a quiet lecture like that, when we all went out with our dates we were determined that we would do the right thing so mother would not feel that she had failed and we almost always got home at a reasonable hour.”

​In his own heartfelt note (found in the book Mother Allie’s Recipes), Jerry shared just how unbreakable that bond remained into adulthood:

​”Mother was my best friend. She cannot be replaced. Even though I had moved far away, married and had children of my own, she remained my best friend. She was always there in my times of need. A telephone call was all it took. Every decision ever made by me in my entire life was and will continue to be guided by the fine Christian upbringing provided by my beloved mother.”

​Sitting on her porch today, I am thinking a lot about this remarkable lady. Her life inspires me – and reading the tributes from her children brings tears to my eyes. Her youngest daughter, Allethea, beautifully wrote this sentiment in her own tribute to her Mother (found in the Mother Allie cookbook):

​”God made a miracle when he made Mother. She was my friend, my confidant, my inspiration, both mother and father to me… I miss her and even though she is no longer with us I still feel her presence. She did all she could do for us here on earth and now she has gone on to heaven to get it ready for us.”

​Sending four children to college in that day and age as a single, widowed mother was nothing short of incredible. Yet, because of Edgar’s vision, Allie’s steel-willed determination, and their shared foundation of faith and trust, every single one of their four children graduated from college—fulfilling Edgar’s dreams and setting off a ripple effect of leadership that would eventually reach the global stage.

​In future posts, I can’t wait to take you on a little tour of this historic home and show you the wonderful mementos that the family has preserved here—the breathtakingly intricate needlework, the delicate crochet, and the beautiful things she made with the very same hands that scrubbed floors, provided hugs, and sorted mail.

​But today, I just want to honor the legacy of Edgar and Allie together. I am so grateful to get to spend the week in their home and learn from the examples and the ideals they lived by. In a world that often celebrates loud, flashy achievements, I am standing in awe of the quiet, fierce, unbreakable strength that built this household. They proved that with enough vision, faith, grit, and love, two ordinary people can hold the world together for their children in an extraordinary manner.

​Isn’t that remarkable?

For more pictures and additional information, visit and follow my Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/lisa.carlon.5

Want to stay at Mother Allie’s House? Click https://www.motherallieshouse.com/

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The Rhythm of Joy

The Rhythm of Joy

“Break bread with neighbors.”

That is the tagline at Neighbor’s Mill Bakery & Cafe in Harrison, Arkansas, and this morning, I saw them live up to it (as they always do). As I stood in line to place my breakfast order, I watched the gentleman at the counter take his time—true, unhurried time—visiting amicably with an out-of-town couple. When he told them, “Thanks for coming in!”, he truly sounded as if he meant it. In our world of “hurry up and go,” that extra minute of connection didn’t just make their day; it set the tone for mine.

But the real lesson came after I sat down.

I had just settled into my booth when I felt it: Clump. Clump-Clump.

My entire booth was shaking. I turned around to find the source and saw a beautiful little blonde girl with cute, messy curls, maybe three years old, sitting back-to-back with me while eating breakfast with her daddy. She was happily munching away, swinging her legs with pure toddler energy, her little feet rhythmically hitting the back of my seat.

I had a choice in that moment. I could have easily let it frustrate me. I could have let it ruin my quiet breakfast.

But instead, I chose to hear the sound of joy.

Every time I took a bite of my sandwich: Clump, clump-clump. Every time I took a sip of my iced tea: Clump-clump.

Instead of an irritation, those little kicks became a reminder of how wonderful it is to be small, happy, and out for breakfast with your daddy. That rhythmic “shaking” of my booth didn’t ruin my morning—in fact, it made it better.

It turns out that “breaking bread with neighbors” isn’t just about the person across the table; sometimes, it’s about the tiny little neighbor kicking the back of your seat and reminding you that life is meant to be swung with both feet.

Let’s all choose to have a good day.

Let’s swing those feet, Friends! 😊

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The Recipes That Connect Us: A Full Circle Moment in Marshfield

The Recipes That Connect Us:

A Full Circle Moment in Marshfield

Since I was a child, I have loved to read stories about people. I can clearly see in my mind where the biographies section was shelved in the Berryville Elementary library back when I was in school. I couldn’t wait to read them all. There were stories about Booker T. Washington, Babe Didrickson, Chief Joseph, Betsy Ross, Dolley Madison, John F. Kennedy, John Paul Jones, the Wright Brothers, and so many more….

My Mother encouraged my love of reading by buying me books that I was interested in — books such as the Laura Ingalls Wilder series that I love dearly to this day. We couldn’t afford to buy the entire series at once — so Mother would get me one at a time…. buying most of them at the Bible bookstore that used to be on the northwest side of the Ozark Mall in Harrison. When she bought the last book in the series, she asked the store owner about the little cardboard box holder—the kind usually only available when you bought the entire set at once. Lo and behold, they had an extra for some reason, and my collection was finally complete. I still have that very well-worn treasured set today.

I was about 10 years old when I finished those “Little House” books, and the next time I went back to the Bible bookstore with Mother I searched for something new to read. It was always exciting to me to browse the books and anticipate the stories to be found in each one. That particular afternoon, I left the children’s books and wandered through the adult section where I spotted a book about our (then) First Lady, Mrs. Rosalynn Carter.

The picture on the cover was just beautiful. Mrs. Carter was wearing a stylish navy blue dress and looked so pretty with a lovely, warm smile on her face. When I told Mother that this was the book I wanted, she never hesitated. She didn’t tell me that this particular book was probably above my reading level or that it was a book intended for adults — she just bought me the book — and for that, I am grateful. I always thought I could do whatever I set out to do because my parents believed in me and encouraged me in my pursuits.

I have read so many books through the years. Some of them I have kept, some I haven’t…. but I still have that biography of Mrs. Carter.

Now let’s fast forward about…..50 years. (Goodness — that went by quickly! 🙂)

This week, I was fortunate to attend the 2026 Missouri Cherry Blossom Festival in Marshfield, Missouri. This festival is such a rich and intricate tapestry of history and community that it’s honestly hard to find the right words to do it justice. In fact, that’s a task for other posts soon to come!

In this story, I want to focus on one particular festival event — a cooking class.

For me, it was one of the highlights of the week — because I absolutely love to cook and I dearly love collecting great recipes with connections. Yes, on today’s internet you can search and find pretty much any recipe you like… but in my opinion, this is a loss instead of a gain. Recipes that are passed down throughout families, recipes that you get from friends and neighbors — are recipes with connections…. and those connections make not only the preparations but the meals so much more meaningful and enjoyable.

This was the second year I attended the Cherry Blossom cooking class, hosted by Andrew Och. Andrew is known as the “First Ladies’ Man” because he spent years traveling across the country, visiting the homes and hometowns of every single American First Lady to document their unique stories. This cooking class is a special event — and I wish you could have been there! Let me tell you about it and hopefully take you there with me through the story…

Conducted by Mrs. Allethea Wall (the sister of former First Lady Rosalynn Carter), her daughter, Julie Wall-Smith, and her daughter-in-law, Courtney Wall, it was a reminder of true Southern hospitality.

These ladies worked so hard to make every guest feel at home. At each table, we found a wonderful collection of “connections” to the place they still hold so dear—Plains, Georgia:

  • A flyer for “Butterfly Daze 2026“ — an annual celebration in Plains that honors the butterfly trail Mrs. Carter championed to protect the monarch butterfly.
  • A brochure for “Mother Allie’s House“ — Mrs Carter and Mrs. Wall’s childhood home that has been beautifully restored and is now available as a charming vacation rental. Wouldn’t that be memorable and fun?
  • A copy of Sumter County Living magazine, featuring a lovely article about Mrs. Wall (page 66! 🙂 )
  • Small packages of “Plains Peanuts“ (so delicious and completely addictive!)

The class was a beautiful picture of a family working together. Julie took the lead on demonstrating and preparing the dishes while Courtney assisted her, making sure everything was ready for each step. Mrs. Wall sat with them, the steady heart of the demonstration, providing her wisdom and a beautiful, welcoming smile.

This year, the stars of the show were three classic recipes: Cheese Straws, Rosalynn Carter’s Famous Cheese Ring, and a simple and delicious Peanut Butter Pie.

They shared their secrets while they worked — like how much grating your own extra-sharp cheese (not buying pre-grated!) makes recipes better and the importance of using only Duke’s mayonnaise. (I’m never without a jar of Duke’s in my own refrigerator — it truly is a staple! If you’ve never tried it, you are missing out!)

The real highlight came at the end, when we all sat down to enjoy the delicious cheese ring and cheese straws and peanut butter pies together.

After I left that day, I thought back to my 10-year-old self in the Bible bookstore holding the biography of Mrs. Carter. I realized that the real blessing of this class wasn’t just the food (though it was wonderful!) It was the connections.

We live in a world that can sometimes feel so divided, but in that room, surrounded by a recipe, a conversation, and the beautiful smiles of new friends, I was reminded that we really do all have so much in common. Sometimes, a simple recipe and a kind conversation can bridge the gap, can encourage us, and can remind us that things are still so good.

The best recipes aren’t just lists of ingredients… they are the ones that connect our past to our present, and our hearts to new friends.

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Think on the Good Things

Today is my Mother’s birthday, so she is on my mind a lot this morning….but of course, that’s nothing new. I think about her – and my Daddy – every single day….

When you are blessed to be very close to your parents….everything changes when they pass away….and you have to make up your mind how you will think about things – how you will go on.

I can remember being concerned when Daddy died – wondering how Mother would cope. She had been taking such dedicated care of him for so long and much of her life was devoted to him for several years. A couple of days after his funeral, we were talking on the phone and she said, “Lisa, I didn’t just lose my husband, I’ve lost my job. I’ve got to find a new direction – a new purpose so that I can keep going. I can’t just sit around and feel sorry for myself” And then, I watched her do just that. I thought how smart and how courageous she was….and I relied on her example when I lost her ten years later.

As I said, everything changes when you lose someone very close to you. The world just feels….different. After her death I grieved, of course, but also I worked very hard to think about how best to go forward – to decide what I would think about and how I would handle everything… For example, when someone mentioned my parents, would I be sad – or would I be glad that they were remembered? When I baked one of her recipes, would it bring me joy or sadness? Would I be solemn when I visited a restaurant we used to frequent together – or would I smile and remember all the good times we had? When I wore a piece of her jewelry, would it be a symbol of loss – or a reminder of great memories, blessings, and joy?

My cousin Betty helped me tremendously one day when she said to me: “Lisa, I know three things as surely as I know anything. Jeannie loved Jesus and she loved you – and she would want you to be happy.” I have thought of Betty’s comment over and over these past 2½ years….and I know she is right. Mother always wanted me to be happy – and she still would! So, I have tried very hard to remember to be just that! In other words, I have tried to think about what I think about – and choose to think on the good things. We really do get to choose, you know. (This can be such hard work – but very worth it!) I’ve tried to “program” my brain to celebrate the blessings and memories and lessons. Now, don’t get me wrong. Sometimes I am sad – and that’s okay. Sometimes I want so badly to pick up the phone and call my Mother – to ask her a question, to share some good news, to hear in her voice that she is proud of me. Sometimes, I just let myself be sad…..but not for long!

Two weeks to the day before Mother passed away, she said to me “Lisa, I don’t want you to be sad when I’m gone. Promise me.” I replied, “Mother! I can’t promise that! I am most certainly going to be sad! I will miss you!” She persisted, “Well, you can be a little bit sad of course, but Lisa – don’t wallow in it.” Her kind, wise words were such a caring gift to me.

Is it an easy thing to not be sad? No, it’s not….it’s a choice that you make over and over and over again…..but it’s so worth it!

Six months after my Mother died, I attended an event where I would be meeting Michael Learned. Miss Learned played the role of the mother, Olivia, on the 1970’s television program, The Waltons. When we met, she was seated and I was standing. I introduced myself and told her that I wanted to let her know that the work she did decades ago on that television program still had an impact today. I then told her that my dear Mother had recently passed away. At this point, she held up her hand to interrupt me, then stood to face me and took my hand. “What is your Mother’s name?, she asked. I told her that it was Jean. She continued to stand and held my hand while I told her that during Mother’s final few weeks, she was unable to get out of bed but that she kept a bright smile on her face every day – that her room was never sad to anyone who entered it. I also told her that her hospice team and the staff that attended to her knew to avoid scheduling anything between 11:00 am and noon – because that was when the television show “The Waltons” aired. Mother looked forward to watching it every day, and it brought her such joy.

Miss Learned (still holding my hand) looked me in the eyes and said caringly, “How are you doing?”. I told her I was doing okay. She then took my other hand, looked upwards, and said “Jean, this is Michael. I am here right now with Lisa, and I want you to know she is doing okay. She really is doing okay.”

And you know what? I am – and I am so grateful.

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Thank you, Aunt Norma

A television program called “The Children’s Hour” debuted on KYTV channel 3 in 1953 – actually only a few months after the station opened. Four years into the run of the show, a young woman named Norma Champion called the station to make an appointment with the general manager, Carl Fox. When she arrived, he mistakenly assumed she was there to audition for Children’s Hour. (She wasn’t.) He asked her to pretend she was selling him a tube of toothpaste….and so she did. He then pulled a book off a shelf and asked her to read aloud from it. Apparently she did well with the impromptu requests, because Norma Champion had a new job…..and “Aunt Norma” was born.

From 1957 to 1986, she was the writer, producer, and host of the popular show. (Wow!) For 13 years, the show was performed live five days a week. After that, it was taped and aired on Saturday mornings…….and so many of us loved watching it.

I remember the cute puppets Skinny McGinnis and Rusty Rooster, the wonderful castle, the drawings Aunt Norma taught us to draw, and the crafts she did….but I also remember her positive attitude, her caring nature, her enthusiasm, and the good example she provided for us all. She served as a role model for many of us – and she seemed to take the responsibility seriously.

Quoted in the Springfield Business Journal in 2014, “Aunt Norma” said “While the show did provide entertainment for children in the Ozarks, my primary goal for the program was educational. It was important to me that the show serve as a vehicle to instill positive character traits and a giving attitude in the viewers. I especially stressed that they could be tomorrow’s leaders. How affirming it has been to hear many local leaders stress how influential the show was to them during their developmental years.”

A woman of faith who desired to have a positive influence, Norma Champion has made a difference in many lives. According to her bio with the Missouri Broadcasters Association, when her own young children had all started school, she returned to college to earn a bachelor degree, then masters degree, then a Ph.D. From 1978 until 2010, she was a professor of broadcasting and communication at Evangel University in Springfield.

She has also served as a Springfield City Councilwoman, served in the Missouri House of Representatives, and in the Missouri State Senate. A long-time advocate for children, she introduced legislation to help kids in crisis, successfully passing the “Children In Crisis Tax Credit” which was later renamed the “Champion for Children Tax Credit” in her honor.

All of these accomplishments are incredibly impressive. She is definitely a woman who faces things head on and doesn’t let challenges or difficulties deter her goals!

Last weekend, I had the good fortune to meet Aunt Norma at the Webster County Library in Marshfield, Missouri as part of the town’s annual Cherry Blossom Festival. I was truly so happy to meet her – and was also excited to see that she had brought along the little puppets Skinny McGinnis and Rusty Rooster. I actually geeked out a little! It took me back to my childhood – I had watched them all so many times.

Now in her early 90’s, “Aunt Norma” still exhibits the same caring, exuberance, confidence, and sparkle that is familiar to all of us who grew up watching her. She spoke briefly to the group of us assembled there – sharing interesting and fun memories of the show as we all listened happily.

During her talk, she mentioned that she had met a gentleman once who told her that watching the show as a child had meant a lot to him. “It’s funny – I always felt like you were really talking to me”, he said. Aunt Norma told him that in a way, she actually was. “I wanted the show to feel personal to each child. I wanted to truly connect with the children”, she said. “So, when I did the show, I always worked to picture in my mind the kids sitting at home watching – so that it would be as if I were talking straight to them.”

What a dedicated effort…and we felt it! How special!

“Aunt Norma” had brought colorful picture postcards of herself, Skinny and Rusty. She told us that she would be happy to sign them for us if we would like, and we all lined up! When it was my turn, she confidently signed my postcard, then handed her Sharpie pen to me and smiled brightly as she said, “Now, would you mind to cross the T for me? You see, I have low vision, so I am unable to see where to cross it.” I took the pen from her and carefully crossed the T as she had requested. “Did you do it?” she asked. I let her know that I had, and she took the pen back and thanked me for coming.

I have thought about the significance of that exchange. So many of us, when faced with a challenge, would stop using our gifts, our outreach – deciding that “we just can’t do “that” (whatever “that” is) anymore.” We might feel too old, or too inadequate, or too unable, or too tired…

But not Norma Champion! She is still serving as a positive role model, an inspiration to many. She is still showing up when called and still teaching us lessons.

Thank you, Aunt Norma. ❤️ We’re still watching and learning.

Sources:

Missouri State Senate biographies – https://www.senate.mo.gov/04info/members/bios/bio30.htm

Missouri Broadcasters Association Biographies – https://www.missouribroadcasters.org/hall-of-fame/norma-champion/#:~:text=Norma%20Champion%20is%20best%20known,program%20on%20KYTV%20in%20Springfield.

KY3 – Celebrating Aunt Norma – https://www.ky3.com/2021/09/17/ozarks-life-celebrating-aunt-norma-childrens-hour/

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The Blessings of a Godly Mother

I’ve heard the story of my birth for as long as I can remember…not that it was all that remarkable or out of the ordinary…it was just that my Mother liked telling the story and I loved hearing it. I was expected to make my appearance toward the end of April, 1967. On the afternoon of Friday March 31st, Mother drove to town for a checkup at the doctor’s office, a hair appointment at the beauty shop, and a few other errands. However, when Dr. Magie examined her, he said she needed to head on over to the hospital immediately because she was about to have her baby. Mother laughed, thinking he was joking. After all, I wasn’t expected for 3 more weeks – she had felt no labor pains – he was scheduled to go out of town for a short hunting trip (planned so he could be back for my birth), and she was headed to the beauty shop! She truly believed he was kidding with her. In fact, she told him she had a hair appointment and asked if it would be all right if she got her hair fixed and then head to the hospital. He assured her she needed to go straight there – so she called Daddy and Mam-ma to come join her, then settled in nervously and excitedly to wait. Dr. Magie was right – I was born just after 4:00 am the next morning, an April Fool’s baby who fooled her family by arriving a few weeks early.

As a little girl, I always smiled a big smile when Mother told me this story. I loved thinking I had played a clever trick on my family with my surprise arrival.

The hospital where I was born closed shortly after my birth when a new hospital was built across town. The beautiful old building sat up on a hill empty and abandoned for years. One day when I was around 8 years old, Mother drove me up that hill and around to the back of the deserted building. She said she wanted to show me something. We got out of the car and had walked only a few steps when Mother pointed up to the unique round balcony on the 3rd floor. “I walked out on that balcony the night before you were born and stood for the longest time praying over your life”, Mother said. “I just wanted you to know that – that I prayed earnestly for you before you were even here.”

Photo credit: Betty Patterson (Thank you, Betty.)

Even as a child, I was humbled by what she said – it seemed like such an important thing to me that day….and it still does. Every time I remember her words, I feel so honored, so blessed by her gift.

I just did the math – I have been on this earth a total of 20,290 days since my April 1 birth all those years ago – and I feel absolutely and 100% completely confident that my Mother has prayed for me on every single one of those days. What an amazing blessing!!!

So, my precious mother prayed for me before I was born and every day since then. I have never lived one single day on this earth without being covered by her prayers. Not one single day. What a difference, what an impact this has had on my life.

It made me thoughtful recently, thinking how I would miss those prayers someday when she is no longer with me…..

…but several weeks ago, Mother was talking to me and thanking me for helping her with some things. “I pray about your future”, she said, “and I’ve prayed that when you get older and perhaps need help, that there will be someone there to help you like you’ve helped me.”

She has prayed for my future! Those thousands of prayers have included specific, thoughtful petitions regarding challenges we all face in this life.

I firmly believe our wonderful, loving Heavenly Father hears our prayers – and I am so grateful that He does. I also couldn’t be more humbled or thankful for the prayers of a Godly mother, devotedly approaching the King of Kings on my behalf.

Thank you, Mother. I love you so very much. I am forever grateful.

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The Seeds We Sow

Anybody out there like fresh peaches? I know I sure do…..but I will never look at them the same way after today…..because I read an article by Cindy Lubbering, a home-town friend I have known for many years. She has written a beautiful, meaningful, and thought-provoking piece paying tribute to her parents….. but also providing a wonderful challenge for each of us…I contacted Cindy this afternoon and asked her if I could post her story, wanting to share with others, and she has graciously agreed. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. If so, please comment and let her know – or send me a message and I will pass it along.

The Peach Tree

Fresh Peaches

The Seeds We Sow

By Guest Writer Cindy Lubbering

When you first glance at these pictures you might think, ”What’s the big deal? Nothing special about a few peaches and a peach tree.” But to me, the tree and peaches have a far deeper and more profound meaning.

This peach tree grows just over the fence next to my parent’s home. It has grown in the spot where we tossed food scraps for years. Obviously, a peach seed was among those scraps at one time and happened to take root.

Frankly, I didn’t even realize the tree was fruit bearing until Gregg called it to my attention lately. He brought in the sweetest peaches I have ever tasted. Gregg told me that he picked them from my parent’s peach tree.

The tree that they never realized they planted.

Now this peach tree has been slowly growing through the years and finally bore fruit.

The tree got me to thinking about other kinds of seeds my parents unknowingly planted throughout the years.

They planted seeds about Jesus in the many, many three year olds that attended their Sunday school class for the more than forty years that they taught.

They planted seeds in the community, living and working among friends and neighbors who sometimes needed a helping hand.

They planted seeds within our own family by living Christian lives and being examples of always doing what is good and honorable for my sister and I and their grandchildren.

My parents are both gone, but the seeds they planted are still producing fruit just as the peach tree is that grows near their backyard.

Let us all be mindful that the seeds we plant today will one day bear fruit, good or bad.

Galatians 6:7

Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that he will also reap.

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Glimpses of Excellence – at my local Chick-Fil-A

Many years ago, I decided that someday I would write a book and title it “Glimpses of Excellence”…..but I’ll tell you more about that in another blog on another day. I’m getting a little ahead of myself…

Even though I’m off work right now for Christmas break, I’ve stayed quite busy. Despite all the demands of the day, I have been allowing myself the wonderful luxury of sleeping in late….until this morning…

I set my alarm to wake up early today, because I had an early morning appointment about 50 miles from home. I’ll be honest, mornings are definitely not my best time – I’m much more of a night owl – so anytime I have to get up and about early it’s a bit of a challenge for me. (Okay, probably a big challenge!) Still, I made it out the door just a few minutes past the goal I had set for leaving, got settled in the car, and ordered breakfast on my Chick-Fil-A app. (I absolutely love their breakfast bowls!) Thinking it might save time, I chose inside pickup rather than drive-through, clicked the final “submit” on the order, and headed off to meet the day.

There were beautiful clouds in the skies this morning – not fluffy white pillows in a bright blue sky, but slowly rolling dark shadows crowded together against a muted, blue-gray canvas.

cloudy skies

When I arrived at Chick-Fil-A and parked, rain had just started sprinkling down. The parking lot was full, and the restaurant was busy. My mind was also busy – thinking about my goals for the day, planning my schedule, and mentally listing tasks needing completion. As I hopped out of the car to rush in and get my order, the skies opened up and the rain started pelting down. Dashing inside the restaurant, I was greeted warmly by an employee who was standing near the front door. “Do you have an umbrella?” the young man asked. “No, I didn’t bring one with me – didn’t know it was going to rain today!” I replied over my shoulder as I walked over to pick up my waiting order. While I did, he calmly walked into the entryway, unlocked a small closet, and took out an oversized umbrella. As I hurried back toward the front door, he said “I’ll walk you to your car.” Stepping out in the rain, he held the umbrella more over me and my breakfast order than over himself. Smiling as I jumped into the car, I called out a quick but sincere thank-you as he turned and headed back to the restaurant.

You know what? That small act of unexpected kindness made my day! My busy morning was brightened considerably because this young man went the extra mile to show concern for me….because he put out extra unrequested effort to make my day better. What a wonderful glimpse of excellence!

That act of kindness has stayed in my thoughts all day because it was significant to me. It was over and beyond what I would have expected, it was very impressive, and it made a difference. It touched my heart! I wonder what simple opportunities I miss to help others, to show kindness, to make a positive impact? In what ways can I show excellence? I’m going to try to work on that!

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Teaching by Example

autumn leaf

I saw a 1000 different pictures on my drive to work today…. Okay, to be realistic, maybe it wasn’t actually 1000….but it really was close! I like to leave early in the morning so that I can stop and take pictures on my drive, but I was running behind and didn’t allow as much time today…..and of course – the morning was just spectacular. The grasses are still green in the Ozarks and there was a foggy mist rising up from the ground. It was just beautiful. Often when the mists are rising, the skies are a foggy gray, but that wasn’t the case this morning. They were brilliantly blue overhead with just a hint of peach and pink on the horizon. The clouds were fluffy and white, and edged in gold as the sun came up behind them. There were hints of autumn color showing here and there. I wanted so badly to stop, set up, and take some shots….but there was no time, so I just drove along happily enjoying the beautiful views.

I was taught from an early age to watch for beauty – to notice it and celebrate it. My mother always enthusiastically does just that – noticing every detail and appreciating the beautiful blessings of God’s nature. She has set a wonderful example.

A few weeks ago, I wanted to get a picture of autumn leaves beginning to turn so I went out for a drive and invited her along. The colors really weren’t easy to find, and I was about to give up for the evening. Mother, always trying to help, mentioned that she had noticed a pretty little tree with some nice color in a parking lot near the pharmacy. She had ridden there earlier in the day to pick up a prescription – and noticed the tree as she passed by. I drove across town, and there it was. She was right – and I happily took a few shots. Success! I was so impressed that she noticed it – just a little tree in the middle of a concrete parking lot she had ridden by during a busy day. I’m thankful that she has taught me by example to watch for the beauty and blessings, but I am even more grateful that she has taught me to share it.

About a week ago, she and I were walking together down the sidewalk in my neighborhood. The leaves were showing some color and there were a few pretty red ones on the ground. Mother was delighted – and each time we passed one that was lying face down, she carefully stooped down, picked it up, and turned it over. “There”, she would say, “now everyone walking by can see how pretty it is and hopefully enjoy it too.”

It may seem like a small thing – just turning over a leaf – but it’s really not. Mother’s back bothers her some – so her actions were not without challenge or pain – but it was worth it to her….even though she will probably never know who appreciated or enjoyed her efforts.

I’m so thankful for her examples and what she teaches me. Finding beauty and sharing it with others makes my days better. It brings me joy – and I hope brings joy to others as well.

Thank you, Mother.

autumn leaf
Autumn leaf – ready for someone to see and enjoy

Want to see more pictures?
Please visit my website at www.lisacarlonphotography.com

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Thank you, Mrs. Swofford

We often do not realize the long-lasting impact we have on others….

Each of us affect those around us – either positively or negatively – every day, many times without even realizing it.

When I was 9 years old, I was a 4th grader at Berryville (Arkansas) elementary school. My teacher that year was Mrs. Mary Ellen Swofford. The year before, when I was a 3rd grader, I had feared Mrs. Swofford, hoping and praying many times that I wouldn’t have her for a teacher. A trim, petite lady, she always wore neatly fitted dresses and matching heels that clicked briskly when she walked down the hall. You always knew when it was Mrs. Swofford coming – even before you saw her – by those clicking heels. She was a no-nonsense teacher, and had high expectations for students’ behavior, attitude, and efforts.

Entering 4th grade, my fears were realized when I saw that in fact I did have Mrs. Swofford as my teacher. Those fears quickly faded away as I got to know her however, and she remains to this day one of my absolute favorite teachers.

In late September, this lovely “changing of seasons” time of year we are in right now, Mrs. Swofford started our day by printing the word autumn on the chalkboard. She wrote slowly and carefully, building our anticipation as we students saw the care and simple artistry she put into every letter. She chose to use the old fashioned style on the letter “a”, a style still utilized in type print today but rarely seen anymore in written form. We had no idea why she was writing the word, but she definitely had our attention. The room was quiet as we waited in anticipation. When she finished, she turned to us and said, “Isn’t this a pretty word? I’ve always thought it was such a pretty word to see in print – and I think that fits so well because autumn is such a pretty time of year. Some people call it “fall”, but I’ve always preferred to use autumn because of the way the word looks when you write it and sounds when you say it. It’s just so much better, don’t you think?”

autumn

That was it. That’s all she said. We moved on – getting out our paper and pencils and beginning our school work for the day. Mrs Swofford left that carefully written word on the board for the remainder of the week, and I would look up at it throughout the day and my 9-year-old mind would think, “Wow – that really is a pretty word!”

It was a simple act – but it taught me several valuable lessons.

Our choices of words matter. Language (both spoken and written) is an art form.

Printing and handwriting can be artistically beautiful.

Celebrating beauty every day brings joy – whether it’s the changing of the seasons, the smile of a friend, or simply a beautiful word written on the chalkboard.

This year marks my 46th autumn since that day in Mrs. Swofford’s classroom – and every single year I still remember that simple word written on the chalkboard and the lesson she taught us.

Thank you, Mrs. Swofford.

Author’s Note: I knew Mrs. Swofford had passed away last year, so at the last minute I decided to look up as I was publishing this post. Ironically, she died one year ago today – September 28, 2020.