When I was a child visiting my dad’s parents in the Spring, I would often walk outside with my grandfather. My grandfather, affectionally named “Papo,” loved to be outside in his yard that surrounded a modest two-bedroom duplex in Georgia. It was not a big yard, but it had great potential. And, they lived right by the railroad tracks.
My grandfather was a gentle soul who loved nature – especially flowers. His yard was filled with Azaleas, Hydrangeas, Roses, and a small vegetable garden. There was also a dogwood tree that bloomed every Spring. Papo was a master at growing things.
I felt like I was at an arboretum when I was in his yard. The Azaleas bloomed forth in abundance, and the roses were unbelievable in size, beauty, and smell. The roses were his pride and joy with some the size of a softball. As he prepared his garden each year, Papo would incorporate cow manure from the fields nearby into the soil. Though the smell was unbearable when he first put out the manure, the scent from the roses later on was intoxicating throughout the yard.
Papo also had a magic touch with fresh tomatoes. Now, not every year’s crop turned out great, but some years were over the top. I can remember sitting down to lunch with him as he made a tomato sandwich. White bread, fresh tomatoes, mayonnaise, salt and pepper. And, maybe an occasional slice of bacon. That’s all a tomato sandwich needed. Many days, he would have two of these sandwiches for lunch.
Papo was also fascinated with the birds singing in the yard. I remember the old fashioned wooden screen door on the front and back of their duplex. Most of the time, the door was open early in the morning and late at night. The birds’ singing early in the morning was like a symphony in concert in their yard.
Papo loved Blue Birds! I’m not sure if it were the blue body with a buff—orange chest or the flute like sound they sang out daily that he loved. In the winter time, Papo made Blue Bird houses. He went to nearby lumber companies to get scraps of wood. He brought them home and began the process of crafting these houses. He built so many, that he asked and got permission from a state park to place them around to encourage a greater number of these beautiful birds.
Yes, indeed, visiting my grandparents taught me many things about appreciating God’s creation. I’m reminded of a poem about nature and the gift that God gives to us daily:
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful:
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flow’r that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colors,
He made their tiny wings.
The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden,
He made them every one.
written by: Cecil Frances Alexander, 1848
Over the years, I have come to appreciate and understand the beauty and wonder of nature. The intricate details. The scent of a rose. The musical sounds of birds in the early morning. Plants that produce fruits and vegetables. I love planting seeds and seeing them sprout out of the dirt and reach upward to the sun in the sky. To dig up a row of potatoes in the dirt. All of these wonders remind me that there is a God who brings life to all things.
My dad’s parents died back in 2005 and 2006 at ages 86 and 94. It doesn’t seem like 16 years ago. As I reflect back on the memories and blessings they gave me, I’m reminded of God’s love and grace to me daily. Each moment is filled with treasure: “All things bright and beautiful, the Lord God made them all.” We are truly blessed in knowing Christ and the love of God. Enjoy the beauty he’s giving us today!
Beautiful!!
Thank you
God Bless!