Category: Treasures

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I Liked Wearing Footies Today….

I liked wearing footie socks today. I know – that’s a strange opening line… Let me go back a bit and explain…..

My Mother and I used to trade clothes and shoes a lot. She would borrow from me, and I would borrow from her. We enjoyed it. It was something she had done with her mother (my Mam-ma) through the years and so we continued the tradition. It was fun! We “shopped” each other’s closets whenever we wanted something new or different to borrow for a bit. It worked pretty well…..well, mostly it did….except maybe sometimes when it came to shoes.

You see – I don’t like wearing socks….ever. I do wear them in the winter – because you’re supposed to….but I think they are bunchy and uncomfortable and hot….and I much prefer bare feet in my shoes whenever I can get away with it. BUT, Mother never wore shoes (except sandals of course) without socks because she believed it was better for the shoe (and she was right). SO, when I borrowed any of her shoes she had one request – I had to wear a pair of “footies”. (UGH!!!) To make it easy, she bought me footie socks to keep on hand so that I could wear them when needed….and I always complied. I might have tried to talk her out of it a time or two….but she stood firm and I finally accepted that it was a thing and I respectfully followed her request. But….I still didn’t like wearing them.

Mother even kept footies at her house for me – just in case I ever needed shoes while I was there and didn’t have the little footies with me…..in other words, she had the situation thoroughly covered! 🙂

Shoes were kind of a big thing for my Mother – she loved them and had several pairs of unique, pretty, colorful, blingy, and fun shoes. When she passed away, it was hard parting with them. They were so “her”…so, I kept a special pair – her red and gold tennis shoes – because they were some of her favorites and because every time I look at them they make me smile. I tucked them away as a remembrance – for the smiles and the sweet memories they bring when I see them.

I kept some of her other shoes as well – some of my favorites that we had traded back and forth, and some of her more everyday tennis shoes – to wear myself. One pair of gray Skechers has sat in my closet until today. I’m not really certain why I haven’t worn them until now – because Skechers are some of my absolute favorite shoes…..but for whatever reasons I had left them sitting there quietly undisturbed.

Getting ready for work this morning, I put on a soft gray pullover shirt with my jeans (It’s casual Friday!) and glanced over at that pair of gray Skechers. They’d be perfect with this outfit I thought…..so I took them off the shelf…..and then I paused. Can I be honest? I truthfully felt a tiny bit guilty for wearing the shoes without those required footie socks….. and I was wishing Mother were still here….I was thinking how completely happy I would be to wear those little socks for her today if only she were here to require it of me. I stopped and took a moment just to think and remember.

Then, as I bent down to put my shoes on I thought to myself, “Well Mother, I’m going to wear these shoes without the socks today.”

I stepped into the right shoe and pulled it onto my heel. When I put my toes into the left shoe – they hit something….something soft and familiar in the end of the shoe. I pulled my foot out, put my hand in….and pulled out a little pair of footie socks neatly tucked into the toe of the shoe. I almost laughed out loud. It almost felt like a little hug…a connection to what used to be…

Then what did I do??? I sat down with a smile on my face, took off my right shoe, pulled on the little socks and then my shoes and headed out the door for work.

I loved wearing footie socks today.

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The Natural Artistry of Frost Flowers: Frozen Ribbons on a Winter Morning

Last night was the first time this season that we have experienced freezing temperatures here in the Arkansas Ozarks….so I should have been thinking about frost flowers this morning…..but I wasn’t. It was Monday, and I was hurriedly getting around for work and the start of the week…and so my thoughts were distracted. Fortunately, my friend Beverly texted me a picture she had taken this morning – and her reminder put me eagerly on the lookout! (Thank you, Beverly!!!) Here’s what I delightedly discovered!

On the coldest, clearest mornings of late autumn and early winter, nature sometimes offers a truly amazing gift: delicate, almost unbelievable sculptures of ice that look like they’re blooming right out of the soil. They aren’t true flowers of course – they are “frost flowers”, also known as ice ribbons….and they are as beautiful as they are unusual!

You may have driven by them on the sides of the road on a cold morning in late fall – and never even knew that they were there. Believe it or not, from a distance these beautiful little intricate ice flowers can sometimes almost look like pieces of littered trash – until you slow down and look closer and see their extraordinary, delicate, detailed beauty.

Several things have to line up perfectly for frost flowers to exist. They require a perfect, but almost contradictory, mix of conditions:

  1. Air Temperature: The air absolutely has to be freezing.
  2. Soil Condition: This is the crucial part! The ground must still be relatively warm and moist, which lets the plant’s root system keep drinking water.
  3. The Plant Host: You’ll only spot this phenomenon on a few specific plant species whose stems can hang onto moisture and split nicely under stress.

The Science Behind the Magic: Water Pressure and Ice

The creation of a frost flower is a pretty cool demonstration of water pressure and physics in the botanical world of nature.

The unfrozen roots of the plant continually draw water up from the soil into the stem just like a straw sucking up a drink. When this water column hits the super-freezing air, it starts to turn to ice inside the plant’s little water tubes.

Here’s the kicker: when water turns solid, its volume increases by about 9% – in other words it gets bigger (that’s why frozen water bottles sometimes explode!). This internal pressure from the expanding ice puts immense stress on the plant’s hollow, vertical stem, forcing it to rupture and split open.

As more water gets pulled up, the pressure pushes the liquid right out through those new cracks. When it touches the freezing air, the water instantly freezes into thin, paper-like sheets. This continuous process of pushing out water and freezing it creates characteristicly thin, curly ribbons, forming flowers. It keeps going until the roots freeze solid or the morning sun ruins the party!

These specific requirements are what make finding a frost flower such a rare and delightful winter sighting!

Here Today, Gone by Noon: A Fleeting Work of Art

Because such precise conditions are needed for frost flowers to form and because they are so fragile, seeing a frost flower is rare and special. A brief touch or the first warm rays of the sun will make them vanish, often leaving behind just a trace of water on the cracked stem. Finding one is a moment of pure wonderment, a blessing from above, and a testament to the surprising and delicate artistry we are blessed with in the winter landscape.

So…be on the lookout the next time you step outside on a cold, still morning early in the changing of seasons. You might just catch nature in the act of painting with ice!

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The Stories I Wish I Knew

old books

I’ve been researching my ancestry for the past several months and I have so enjoyed all of the family members I am “meeting” and all of their stories I am discovering. I’m so grateful to the people and organizations who have recorded history – whether it be census data, official records, written family accounts, cemetery information, and so on. They help to piece together the stories of the people that came before – the people who worked and sacrificed and tried and failed and tried again and created…..blazing trails for all the rest of us. I’ve said it many times, we stand on the shoulders of those who came before us…the people who pioneered the land, developed communities, organized our systems and structures, built the roads….those who invented, created, established, loved, learned, and grew….

I’ve posted about some of my relatives recently….but so far none have had a name so interesting, so unique, as that of my great-great grandmother……but I’ll get to that in a minute… 🙂 When I was a child attending first grade at Wonderview Public Schools, I rode the bus roughly 9 miles from Hattieville to Wonderview every morning….and 9 miles back every afternoon. Those familiar with this area will easily know that the school bus passed through the community of St. Vincent, Arkansas on the way. It’s interesting to me that I have ridden (and later driven) Arkansas highway 95 so many times through the years – and didn’t know that some of my ancestors were buried in a tiny family cemetery neatly fenced off in the middle of a little pasture beside the highway. The little cemetery has only five graves….my great-great grandfather, Thomas Jefferson McReynolds (a pretty interesting name in it’s own right, don’t you think?), my great-great grandmother (the one with the fun, interesting name), and three others.

Okay – back to the name! I hope you like it as well as I do. My great-great grandmother’s birth name is Tennessee Turnbow. Say that one out loud! C’mon – it’s fun! 🙂

According to some of the records, her family called her “Tennie”. So, as an adult her married name was Tennie McReynolds…. I like it – it’s also got a pretty nice ring to it – but I have to admit I like Tennessee Turnbow even better!

Though I’ve tried hard to learn about her, information is very limited. Diligent searches over time have put together the following very short biography:

“When Tennessee “Tennie” Turnbow was born on April 24, 1850, in Maury County, Tennessee, her father, John, was 41, and her mother, Cathryn, was 35. The entire family moved to Pope County, Arkansas when she was a young child and she grew up there. She married Thomas Jefferson McReynolds on December 22, 1869 and they set up their first home in Dover. Later they moved to Conway County, Arkansas. They had five children during their marriage. Tennessee died as a young mother on September 10, 1880, in Hattieville, Arkansas, at the age of 30. When she passed away, her children were ages 8, 7, 6, 4, and 1½. How hard this must have been. She was buried in St. Vincent, Arkansas – the first grave in the McReynolds Cemetery.”

Five years after her death, my great-great grandfather remarried a lady named Isabelle Templeton and soon more children joined the family.

The information leaves me curious – I can think of so many questions. Without Tennessee Turnbow, I would not be here. In fact, the first time I saw a young picture of her daughter – my great-grandmother Sarah Florence – I was surprised to see how much I look like her. I like that.

But…I know so little about my 2nd great-grandmother…. What was she like? What were her hopes and dreams? What color were her eyes? Her hair? Did she have a nice smile? Did she have a favorite recipe or recipes? Did she like to sing? Was she artistic? Was she practical and quiet? Was she fun loving? What caused her death at such a young age? Was the land she is buried on the family farm? How did my great-great grandfather manage alone for several years with five little children?

The stories I wish I knew make me thoughtful….

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Reba’s Place

Driving home on U.S. highway 75 after a quick getaway to Dallas this past weekend, my friends and I spotted a billboard for “Reba’s Place”, a restaurant in Atoka, Oklahoma…. Our little group loves road trips and exploring and discovering new places….so by the time we passed a second billboard advertising the restaurant we were thinking….why not?

The restaurant at 301 East Court Street sits only a few blocks off the main highway, and it is definitely a stop worth making…

The little town of Atoka (population 2,953) is the county seat of Atoka County. The town was founded in the 1850’s, and by 1858, the famous Butterfield stage line was carrying mail and passengers to the town. By 1868, an Atoka post office was established. Atoka thrived and grew….

Fast forward to the early 2000’s…. Atoka’s population was no longer steadily growing. In fact, it experienced periods of decline. Beautiful old downtown buildings were falling into disrepair.

Carol Ervin, the economic director for the town, decided a plan must be formulated to redevelop the area. Every year, eight million vehicles passed through the edge of the little town on U.S. highway 75….but unfortunately they were not stopping in Atoka. Carol and her team rolled up their sleeves and went to work….brainstorming, researching, and thinking of ways to revitalize Atoka…and in time, one idea in particular stood out.

They decided to call on one of Atoka County’s most well-known natives, country music singer and actress Reba McEntire, to pitch their idea…

Reba grew up in Atoka County. She was raised on her parents’ ranch in Chockie, an unincorporated community just north of Atoka. When her mother, Jackie, became ill with cancer, Reba came home to help with her care. Mrs. McEntire passed away in March of 2020 – and after that loss, Reba told her sister Susie that she was interested in a legacy project – something that would make their parents proud…..and shortly thereafter she received a call from Carol Ervin.

Carol and her team wanted to partner with Reba, on a big dream project….and Reba was interested. However, when she found out that the project was a restaurant she had some doubts. Knowing that restaurants are tough business and many fail, Reba expressed her concerns…but Carol and her team persisted – and Reba agreed to give it a try.

The building they had chosen, a 15,000 square foot 3-story former Masonic Lodge, was over 100 years old. Reba came to see the proposed building, and with fingers crossed the Atoka committee took her on a tour. Things didn’t go well however – in fact, while they were there a frighteningly dangerous situation occurred… The group explored the building – climbing the stairs from the first floor to the second, then the second to the third. While they were on the third floor, the old staircase they had just climbed suddenly collapsed, crashing down to the ground floor and leaving everyone trapped. Thankfully, the Atoka fire department arrived quickly, set up a very long ladder, and got everyone out safely. The crisis was averted – and the renovations began. (Check out this short video of the rescue!)

Reba’s place officially opened on January 27, 2023, a 50-50 collaboration between Reba herself and the Choctaw Nation. Just over two years later it is going strong – serving over 300,000 guests from all over the U.S. and other countries in its first two years. They are expecting this year to be their busiest yet. One Atoka resident, Donna Hardman, said that since Reba’s Place opened, other businesses have picked up in customers and more businesses have moved into town. Carol Ervin originally thought it would take 10 to 12 years to make downtown Atoka and the city more lively, but once Reba McEntire entered the picture, the plan then turned into a two year success.

Entering the restaurant is fun! There are costumes and personal items of Reba McEntire throughout the building. A chair copied from “The Voice” television show is there for photo ops. Inside the restaurant, giant video screens play clips from the Reba show, as well as fun interviews, video shoots, and more. A small stage features live music while you eat.

The service is great and the menus have lots of good options. All of the beef is supplied locally by the Choctaw Nation’s beef program. At the end of the meal, there is a special treat that’s REALLY good…..but I will leave that as a surprise in case you visit. 🙂

The first two floors are restaurant space. The third floor (which you can reach by climbing the sturdily repaired staircase or by elevator) is not a dining area, but it is incredibly special. First of all, there is a nice gift shop with lots of fun things to browse like t-shirts, caps, music, Lodge cookware, candies, soaps, housewares and books (including a book from Reba called “Not That Fancy: Simple Lessons on Living, Loving, Eating, and Dusting Off Your Boots”). There are also unique items like a fold-up portable “suitcase” barbecue grill, unique gift ideas, and these really cute metal lunch boxes. (I was tempted to buy one!)

In a large corner of the upstairs space, there are beautiful big windows, several comfy couches and chairs, and a huge library of books you can settle in to relax and read if you like. This area, called “Jac’s Library” is a tribute to Reba’s mother, Jacqueline, who was an avid reader. Reba and her sister Susie spent months going through their mother’s things after her passing and decided something special must be done with her massive book collection. Many of Mrs. McEntire’s books are now shelved in “Jac’s Library” for visitors to sit, relax, read, and enjoy. (Just be respectful, and put them back!)

Take the time to visit if you’re traveling highway 75! I think you’ll be really glad you did!

Want to learn more?

Click here for an interesting interview with Reba about the restaurant.

Click here for a wonderful article from the New York Times.

Click here to see a short clip of Reba’s mother, Jacqueline, when she had a cameo appearance on the Reba show back in 2002. <3 Don’t miss this one! 🙂

Sources:

https://www.kxii.com/2025/02/11/rebas-place-effect-how-city-atoka-is-revitalizing-downtown/

https://www.oklahomatoday.com/food/the-queen-s-court

https://www.koco.com/article/oklahoma-atoka-reba-mcentire-restaurant-rescue/45770435

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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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The Garrison Studio – An Arkansas Treasure

A few years ago, I was spending a lot of my time on the 7th floor of UAMS hospital in Little Rock. My mother was there for treatment, and we were in the hospital off and on that year for visits lasting several weeks at a time. Mother and I would go for walks a couple of times every day to get out of her hospital room for a bit and to get a little exercise. The hospital hallway made a big loop around the floor. It was perfect for walking! There were beautiful paintings and framed photography hung along the corridors, giving us and the other patients something to see and talk about as we walked along. One painting in particular always caught both of our eyes. It was a standout favorite for both of us. The colors and use of light were so rich and serene and beautiful. We connected with it. It provided a moment of respite, of escape, of peaceful joy during a challenging situation every time we saw it.

As we journeyed through that year, that same painting continued to be a shared spot of joy for us whenever we were back in the hospital. I made a note of the artist’s name, Bill Garrison, telling myself I would research information about him one day when I had more time….I knew then that I would love to have one of his paintings someday…but didn’t really imagine that it would ever be possible for me….

Fast forward now to last year… When I finally did sit down to research this talented artist, I happily discovered that he lives in Russellville, Arkansas. I decided to visit the Bill Garrison gallery last summer, so I made the drive down Arkansas’ scenic highway 7 to the studio showcasing the works of both he and his wife, Gloria (also a wonderful artist!). I had no idea what to expect – and I was a bit nervous. I can sometimes feel timid when meeting new people and often feel awkward in unfamiliar situations and places.

Visiting a gallery was definitely not a familiar routine for me, and as I turned off the highway and drove down their lane, my confidence waned a bit. There was no need for worry, however. When I pulled up, Mr. and Mrs. Garrison came out to greet me like old friends. I instantly felt welcome and comfortable. We chatted for a few minutes then I walked into their studio…..and I was blown away. A large number of incredibly beautiful art was displayed all around the room, all beautifully framed by Mr. Garrison himself.

It was soon obvious that Arkansas is definitely Mr. Garrison’s inspiration. There were lovely scenes painted in locations from around the state all over the walls. Whenever I would exclaim about the beauty of a painting, Mr. Garrison would delightedly tell me exactly where he had found that particular scene to paint. In fact, he showed me that he always puts the GPS map coordinates on the back of each of his works to record where they were completed. I can’t even adequately describe how beautiful they all were…and since I love Arkansas, most every painting was a lovely celebration of my home state.

I knew I wanted to buy a painting – but the decision of which one was difficult! Did I want the beautiful picture of a field painted in Conway County – the county of my birth? Another tempting choice was a landscape of cool greens and blues showing a beautiful stream with trees shading the water and rocks. Another painting displayed a beautifully shaded, peaceful dirt road with spots of sunlight peaking through the canopy of trees. I truly loved them ALL. Mr. Garrison’s art is an Arkansas treasure!

I finally happily settled on a gorgeous work called “Spadra Autumn”. As the title suggests, it features beautiful fall colors and the light in the painting is just breathtaking. I couldn’t wait to get it home and hang it on my wall….and I have enjoyed it every day since. I find myself often taking the time to pause and study it a bit whenever I walk by. It brings me such joy!

Several weeks after buying the painting, I decided to drive down and see if I could locate the spot of this beautiful scene using Mr. Garrison’s GPS coordinates. According to the map, I was looking for a spot just north of Clarksville on a little county road. I was looking from side to side as I drove along slowly, knowing I must be getting close….As I was driving across a small low water bridge I looked to my left….and there was the scene from my painting. The colors were different, because it wasn’t fall yet, but it was still so recognizable and looked so instantly familiar to me. It made me smile – and it made my painting all the more meaningful and enjoyable to see where it had originated.

If you love art…..or Arkansas….or beauty….I highly recommend a trip to the Garrison “Treehouse Studios” Gallery in Russellville. Call for an appointment and head down to see these true Arkansas treasures. I look forward to going back someday myself!

Contact Information:

Treehouse Studios

https://www.facebook.com/BillGarrisonFineArt

Bill Garrison Fine Art

https://www.facebook.com/BillGarrisonFineArt/

Treehouse Studios Website

http://pages.suddenlink.net/billandgloria/index.htm

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Glimpses of Excellence – Efforts Truly Matter

plant

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!

plant

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.

Efforts truly matter.

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The Privilege of Prayer

Southern Sideboards cover

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.

Mexican Chicken Casserole

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.

Creamy tacos

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.

baked eggs

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.

Southern Sideboards Cookbook

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!

Please say a prayer for 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”

Ephesians 6:18

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.

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Beeson’s Grocery

Beeson's Grocery

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.

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.

Oscar Virgil Beeson, Sr.

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.

Oscar Virgil "OV" Beeson, Jr.

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.

Nicki Jean Beeson Mourot

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.

Beeson's Grocery

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.

Beeson's Grocery

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.

Beeson's Grocery
Miss Bernie
Beeson's Grocery
Beeson's Grocery
Beeson's Grocery
Beeson's Grocery
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What Kind of Ripples Are We Making?

I was raised to be kind to others….not just to “be nice” when someone talked to me….but to care….to watch others in order to see when someone needed a kind word, or assistance, or encouragement. My parents showed me by example that we should help other people out whenever we can….and I saw each of them do this over and over and over again throughout my life…. They provided me with such valuable lessons, and I am forever grateful.

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I don’t drive down highway 76 through Branson West, Missouri all that often….maybe a dozen times a year or so…..but every time I do I am cheered and encouraged when I drive past this Taco Bell.

In fact, believe it or not, I usually smile inwardly and actually feel comforted when I see it.

I know this sounds strange. It has nothing to do with Mexican Pizzas, or burritos, or nachos…. Let me explain…

When my Daddy’s Parkinson disease required him to enter a long-term care facility in Kimberling City at a much-too-young age, for several years (until he passed away) my Mother drove the 50-mile round trip to see him every day. (Every single day!) Daddy’s mind was as sharp as always, and his body was very strong – but his balance and coordination suffered greatly. After several incredibly hard, dangerous falls (with no broken bones ever, thank God!), it was time for some much-needed help.

We were very blessed that he was placed in a private room – and he and Mother would spend the days there together.

Each week, for a change of pace, they would load up in Mother’s van and go riding around for a while or go out to get a bite to eat. One of the places they loved going regularly – was the Taco Bell in Branson West. Going out wasn’t easy! The staff at the care facility would help Daddy get out of his room and safely into the van – but of course, once they left on these driving excursion adventures – they were on their own….

…but not really. Because there are kind and caring people everywhere – people who have learned to watch others in order to see when someone needs a kind word, or assistance, or encouragement….people who are bold enough to step in and take action to help. (This is still true today!)

When Mother and Daddy started going to the Branson West Taco Bell, she would get out and help him walk in – and they would enjoy their meal out together. It was their “date” day! On days when his balance was pretty good, not a lot of assistance was needed…..but as it got worse it became harder for one person alone to assist him.

Then one afternoon as I was driving home from work, Mother called me – excited to tell me about the day. They had gone to Taco Bell as usual, and the staff who had seen them come in each week went above and beyond. Mother said before she could get the van parked and get out to go around and help Daddy – two of the young Taco Bell employees were at his door, smiling and telling him that they would walk in with him. Daddy walked in safely with an employee on each arm – and my parents enjoyed their meal together.

After that, almost every time they pulled up at Taco Bell, employees hurried out to the parking lot to assist them.

It brought Mother and Daddy such joy. It made them feel cared about. It provided Mother with some caregiver relief. It allowed my very social father to make new friends. It was a wonderful, observant, caring act of compassion.

And now – almost 15 years later – the memory of all of those folks and their active compassion continues to cheer, encourage, and inspire me even today. The ripples of kindness that they showed over a decade ago are still active.

It makes me wonder- to stop and evaluate – what do I do each and every day to help those around me? What do I do to see the needs, to listen, to encourage, to support?

What kind of ripples am I making?

They last a lot longer than we can ever know. I want to be sure I leave good ones behind in my wake.

For a narrated version of this story – click below.