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Sunday, September 11, 2016
A Magical Kingdom - Part 3
I tasted my first forkful of pie. Wow! This lemon masterpiece was made from scratch, not some boxed lemon pudding mix. It was the real thing made with fresh lemons. The tangy filling puckered my lips, and I wondered how Anna could achieve such results in her meager kitchen.
As I handed the empty plate back to Anna, the stack of magazines next to the chair caught my eye again. Anna suggested I do some reading. I thought she sounded like a school teacher as she plumbed up the stuffed chair and invited me to sit. She told me some of the magazines would suit a young boy like me. I saw Look and Liberty magazines. They were decades old, smelled damp and felt crumbly. As I grew into adulthood I never forgot those magazines yellowed by time and rubbed thin by calloused fingers thumbing its pages.
We never had magazines around our home as they were considered too expensive. We had radio back then, and that was enough.
Anna told me when you read, you can go anywhere. It took many more years later to understand what that meant, but the journey started in that dusty tumble-down structure. This was a different magic kingdom than the old man’s domain and his grandfather clock. I remembered reading those magazines over and over again for years until I entered high school. I began to feel like a penny with its two sides. One side wanted to be a scientist or an engineer, but now the other side suggested a different life option for me. A writer, a journalist, a novelist. The combination of science and the creative side of the brain d0 not easily coexist in the same person. Yet the two sides coexisted in one couple, the home they lived in, and the eclectic lives they led … like collecting scraps of coal during the day, left behind by the abandoned mines, and reading some issue of Atlantic Monthly from 1935 at night. Both activities sustained their lives.
Now an adult, I am convinced that the Lord knows and proves that he could take anyone’s upbringing and use it for his good purposes. Ephesians 2:10 says “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (NIV)
Whatever life phase one may be in, think of yourself as being prepared for the greater good, a mission, an occupation, a vocation you haven’t yet given a shred of thought towards. We may consider our lives falling short at times. Start dreaming about all the possibilities of a life in Christ. Be open. Above all, be patient. I published my first novel as a senior adult. But God started preparing me when I was nine years old by sending two eccentric people into my life.
So grab a seat, reach for something to read, and let your mind soar! You don’t need an expensive ticket to enter this Magical Kingdom.
P.S. When I returned from engineering school years later to visit family, the two-room building was demolished for business development. The old couple was gone … mysteriously, with no explanation. Maybe they were flying to the moon or growing lemons in California.
Robert Parlante
September 2016
Monday, September 5, 2016
A Magical Kingdom (Part 2)
The man turned around and I remember him saying,
“Thanks for picking up the tobacco. That was kind. You must be tired from
walking? You know the missus made a lemon meringue pie this morning. Come and
have a piece.”
Kind? I did it for money and not some charitable
reason. I remember feeling guilty. Throwing in the lemon pie was a dealmaker.
It was, and still is, my favorite pie! It felt like someone turned on a heat source
and I started to thaw. I followed the man into the house like a puppy dog
anticipating an obedience treat. I was no longer afraid.
We walked into a large dusty room, smelling oily,
and filled to the brim with what I thought was junk. There were bits and
pieces, tools, scrap metal, wheels, and coffee cans filled with nuts and bolts
and nails. It was visual overload with virtually no open space to place another
item. If anything broke, the man probably had the means to repair anything
using his stash of scrap. I began to imagine how to take disparate pieces of
stuff, put them together somehow to create something new. It reminded me of the
Erector set I received for Christmas.
But one item did stand out above the rest. In the
middle of the room was a working grandfather clock with sun and moon dials. It
was definitely not a scrap item as the time ticked quietly. When I asked him
where the clock came from, he changed the subject. It was another mystery
involving the old man who went on to tell me stories about the sun and the moon.
I loved science and math in school, and the room
with its tales about the solar system energized that side of my personality.
Would I be a scientist someday? Maybe I would figure out a way to get to the
moon and back. An hour ago, my imagination ran wild with scary thoughts. Now it
ran rampant with everything I could do or be as an adult. I had entered what
felt like a magical kingdom of possibilities.
The old man introduced me to his missus in the
other room. Her first name was Anna, and she had a welcoming smile. There was a
coal-burning stove, a bed with a down comforter, two armchairs, a sink with
running water, and a table with four chairs. With no electricity, kerosene
lanterns were used. Alongside one arm chair was a stack of magazines, decades
old.
On the table were three small pieces of lemon
meringue pie …
To Be Continued in the next blog
Robert Parlante
September 2016
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Friday, September 2, 2016
A Magical Kingdom (Part 1)
Before Disney World and its magic kingdom, there was the gray-weathered clapboarded two-room building hidden away near an abandoned anthracite coal mine in Pennsylvania. The dilapidated structure surround by coal debris seemed to have been ever-present as long I could remember. I once peeked inside the place early on through dust-encrusted windows when my nine-year-old friends dared me. One room looked like it was used to service mining-related equipment, while the second room was empty space and was probably used for storage. Unoccupied and coal-dust grime made the place look lifeless and creepy.
Even as an adult today, I could not recall how the old building became occupied by the old man and woman who took over the place. They just showed up and became squatters. As a kid, I remember being warned to stay away from the place. There were rumors of their checkered past, unexplained mysteries and stories of two people on the run for speculated reasons. No one seemed to know how they got their food or money or where they came from. I wondered who even owns the building? Who would ever give them permission to occupy the place?
One day, by happenchance I met the old man walking along a dirt road. My first instinct was to run! He beckoned me with an offer. He’d give me a quarter if I would walk to the next town about two miles away and buy him a can of Prince Albert tobacco in the can. I reluctantly accepted the deal.
Hours later I returned. When I approached the place, I had a game-plan. I’d place the can of tobacco and his change (less 25 cents) at the front entrance, yell out and run! As I slipped the tobacco near the door I heard footsteps.
As I turned to run, I bumped into the old man walking back from his outhouse. He smiled, still his yellowy teeth frightened me. “Did ya get the tobacco?” was all he said.
I stuttered back then. I couldn’t get any words out of my mouth.
“Come in the house.” The old man turned away and headed for the front door.
My feet would not move. I envisioned being sacrificed on some demon-worship altar like I saw in the movie serials...
(To Be Continued in my next blog)
Robert Parlante
September 2016
Even as an adult today, I could not recall how the old building became occupied by the old man and woman who took over the place. They just showed up and became squatters. As a kid, I remember being warned to stay away from the place. There were rumors of their checkered past, unexplained mysteries and stories of two people on the run for speculated reasons. No one seemed to know how they got their food or money or where they came from. I wondered who even owns the building? Who would ever give them permission to occupy the place?
One day, by happenchance I met the old man walking along a dirt road. My first instinct was to run! He beckoned me with an offer. He’d give me a quarter if I would walk to the next town about two miles away and buy him a can of Prince Albert tobacco in the can. I reluctantly accepted the deal.
Hours later I returned. When I approached the place, I had a game-plan. I’d place the can of tobacco and his change (less 25 cents) at the front entrance, yell out and run! As I slipped the tobacco near the door I heard footsteps.
As I turned to run, I bumped into the old man walking back from his outhouse. He smiled, still his yellowy teeth frightened me. “Did ya get the tobacco?” was all he said.
I stuttered back then. I couldn’t get any words out of my mouth.
“Come in the house.” The old man turned away and headed for the front door.
My feet would not move. I envisioned being sacrificed on some demon-worship altar like I saw in the movie serials...
(To Be Continued in my next blog)
Robert Parlante
September 2016
Thursday, August 25, 2016
As Evening Approaches
I am the youngest of four brothers. I never knew my second oldest brother because he died from spinal meningitis when he was two years old. The remaining three brothers are six years apart which means each of us was raised almost like an only child for the first six years of their life.
I loved my two other brothers, but one of the negative outcomes of being raised six years apart was that we lived fairly independent lives from each other. There were infrequent phone calls between us, and neither of us knew much detail about what was going on in the other brothers’ lives. We might exchange a phone call every so often, and the humorous part was the call felt like we picked up from a conversation we had the previous day. Yet our typical conversation lacked specificity and depth.
Recently, my oldest surviving brother faced some serious medical issues. It looked bleak for a few days. Thankfully, he made it through surgery and is holding his own. But this near-death experience got me lamenting about how little I knew about my brother.
Romans 14:13 reminds us: “Therefore let us not be judging one another any longer, but rather make this your decision, not to put before a brother a stumbling block or a cause for tripping.”
As far as I know, I have never intentionally placed a stumbling block before my siblings. But as years advance and evening of death approaches an aging person, recent events with my brother causes me to add specificity and depth to whatever time we may have left.
Robert Parlante
August 2016
I loved my two other brothers, but one of the negative outcomes of being raised six years apart was that we lived fairly independent lives from each other. There were infrequent phone calls between us, and neither of us knew much detail about what was going on in the other brothers’ lives. We might exchange a phone call every so often, and the humorous part was the call felt like we picked up from a conversation we had the previous day. Yet our typical conversation lacked specificity and depth.
Recently, my oldest surviving brother faced some serious medical issues. It looked bleak for a few days. Thankfully, he made it through surgery and is holding his own. But this near-death experience got me lamenting about how little I knew about my brother.
Romans 14:13 reminds us: “Therefore let us not be judging one another any longer, but rather make this your decision, not to put before a brother a stumbling block or a cause for tripping.”
As far as I know, I have never intentionally placed a stumbling block before my siblings. But as years advance and evening of death approaches an aging person, recent events with my brother causes me to add specificity and depth to whatever time we may have left.
Robert Parlante
August 2016
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Because of One Solitary Life
This
past week we experienced the passing of a close neighbor after a long illness. It
was a sad time, as well as an uplifting time hearing about the wonderful
contributions he had made into the lives of his family and friends. What a
blessed way to be remembered.
A
few years ago I experienced a passing that felt just the opposite. This
incident is forever etched into my memory bank. It was a sad experience, yet it
felt like an episode of “Seinfeld.”
I
had just started an environmental engineering position at the corporate
headquarters of a major corporation. I was on the job a few weeks, I was the
only one in the office at the time, and I hoped no incident would happen
requiring me to intervene. I was just a neophyte!
Early
afternoon I received a call from my boss who was out of town on business. He
said one of the corporate executives had died and was being waked at a local funeral
home. He asked me to pay respects to the family on behalf of the environmental
engineering department. I had no clue who this person was. I had never seen a
photo of him. I could not think about what I would say to the mourners.
Later
when I walked into the foyer of the funeral home I saw the overflow crowd in
the viewing room to my left. I walked over to the open casket and knew
something was immediately wrong. The man laid out was short and stocky; every
executive I had seen in my company was trim and over six feet tall.
A
woman walked up to me and thanked me for coming. “How do you know my husband,”
she asked.
I
barely got the words out. “I work in the environmental engineering department
at American Cyanamid.”
“Thank
you for coming today,” she said. “My husband did all the bricklaying of the
monuments at the front entrance to your company.”
What?
This man is a stone-mason, not an executive! After offering condolences, I immediately
and quietly escaped into the crowd, headed for the exit, when I saw another
viewing room with a lone closed casket. The placard in the door indicated it
was the executive.
I
was stunned still. There was not a single mourner in the room. Surely there
must have been a good reason for that. I cannot judge.
To
this day, that incident is a reminder to remember people for their
contributions to life worth living. Did they finish the race? Did they stay the
course? Did they encourage their family? Did something change in a positive way
because of that one life?
We
are all one solitary life. I hope and pray we leave behind a legacy of
blessings whether you are a stone-mason or a powerful executive. I know my neighbor friend did!
Robert Parlante
August 2016
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
They Are Not Real People!
Today we return to Psalm 37 for our final word of
encouragement found in its uplifting words. Verse 7a reads: Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for
him.
I don’t know anyone who can honestly say they know how to be still and patient and wait for the Lord to intervene in their pressing issues. The political environment we are presently experiencing agitates me and has me talking to the television at times. Being still and patient are the last things on my mind while watching the political drama unfold before my eyes.
My wife and I have been binge watching the TV series “Madam Secretary” on Netflix. The stories are riveting and the characters are realistic. Last night while watching an episode, we found ourselves both yelling at our least favorite character in the series.
In a moment of revelation, I turned to my wife and said, “What are we doing? They are not real people!”
How can I be still and patient when I can’t adequately separate reality from fiction?
Robert Parlante
August 2016
I don’t know anyone who can honestly say they know how to be still and patient and wait for the Lord to intervene in their pressing issues. The political environment we are presently experiencing agitates me and has me talking to the television at times. Being still and patient are the last things on my mind while watching the political drama unfold before my eyes.
My wife and I have been binge watching the TV series “Madam Secretary” on Netflix. The stories are riveting and the characters are realistic. Last night while watching an episode, we found ourselves both yelling at our least favorite character in the series.
In a moment of revelation, I turned to my wife and said, “What are we doing? They are not real people!”
How can I be still and patient when I can’t adequately separate reality from fiction?
Galatians 5:22 reads: But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness,
goodness, faithfulness. If you are a believer you are equipped with the
fruit of the Spirit.
Need to be still … Need patience … then dig deep within yourself because you are already
equipped to deal with life’s challenges. Ask the Lord to strengthen you.Robert Parlante
August 2016
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
Power Outage
I was listening to iHeartRADIO when one of their Internet DJs shared how her family reacted when they had recently experienced a 2-hour power outage during a thunder storm. Beyond the obvious results of electrical power outages, computers went dead. Internet-based news cycles could not be accessed. One work-at-home family member was a web designer. No power; no web design activity.
Life came to a screeching halt when there was no access to electrical power. But consider what would life be without the other power source ___ the Holy Spirit. The impact of such an event would impact a person far beyond two hours. In fact, it would be a lifetime and an eternity impact.
When a person places his or her faith in Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit is imparted to us. That Spirit is then available to lead us, guide us and help us. The good news is that there is never a power outage or “removal” of the Holy Spirit if we continue to seek the direction of the Spirit through Scripture, prayer and fellowship with other believers.
With the Holy Spirit in our lives, one’s life can never come to a screeching halt! Life is more exciting than any computer game, more important than any news cycle spreading gloom and doom, and is perfectly designed.
Have a Holy Spirit powered day!
Robert Parlante
August 2016
Life came to a screeching halt when there was no access to electrical power. But consider what would life be without the other power source ___ the Holy Spirit. The impact of such an event would impact a person far beyond two hours. In fact, it would be a lifetime and an eternity impact.
When a person places his or her faith in Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit is imparted to us. That Spirit is then available to lead us, guide us and help us. The good news is that there is never a power outage or “removal” of the Holy Spirit if we continue to seek the direction of the Spirit through Scripture, prayer and fellowship with other believers.
With the Holy Spirit in our lives, one’s life can never come to a screeching halt! Life is more exciting than any computer game, more important than any news cycle spreading gloom and doom, and is perfectly designed.
Have a Holy Spirit powered day!
Robert Parlante
August 2016
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