Stella(r) Snow-etry

            A surprising third snow day Thursday presented the opportunity to write limericks. According to http://www.wikihow.com/Write-a-Limerick , a limerick has five lines. The first, second, and fifth lines have eight or nine syllables each. The third and fourth lines have five or six syllables each. The first, second, and fifth lines rhyme with each other. The third and fourth lines rhyme with each other.

            There’s also a meter, but let’s not go crazy here! If you read a few limericks, you’ll be able to feel the rhythm.

            Limerick Day is May 12, the birthday of Edward Lear who made limericks popular in England. By then, the weather will be so lovely we won’t have any reason to think of limericks. We thought of them March 16.

            The first three are mine.

This may or may not be Jamaica.

Stella attacked like a ghoul,
Winning me three days off school.
I slept till eleven--
A foretaste of Heaven!
Who says winter is cruel?

 

There once was a blizzard named Stella,
Who dumped tons of flakes on a fella.
We dug through the mound;
He finally was found
In Jamaica under an umbrella.

When it dips below thirty degrees,
My fingers and toes start to freeze.
When it gets down to twenty,
I need blankets aplenty,
To prevent icicles on my knees.

         Marcia Woodard wrote the next two.

PA's forecast, "More snow!" made folks scurry
To add layers of clothes warm and furry.
But though we were ready,
With hearts brave and steady,
Indiana got barely a flurry.

 

A fella was once heard to boast,
"I'm not just a fair-weather host!"
But when dozens got stranded,
And food was demanded,
All he had were supplies for French toast!

This is French toast and I am hungry.

        And Deb Troutman responded to Marica:

A storm full of snow
Was predicted and so
To the store I did run
Then had so much fun
Staying home reading and eating French toast!

 

        Kathy Scott lets us know that Stella was Irish.

There once was a snowstorm quite Irish.
It blew into town not so stylish.
It covered all green.
Not a shamrock was seen.
And all the gold coins turned to tarnish. 

       Bill Cheesman takes a brighter view of the Irish snowstorm.

In March the winds they did blow,
And then we were covered in snow.
In a change of the scene,
Everything was green
And all the Irish did glow!

       Beth Brubaker bemoans the fate of her car:

I hope this is not Beth's car.

I once had a car that was nice
though living here made me think twice
the snow and the sleet
Plowed on from the street
Has now encased it in ice! 

 

    

      Janyce Brawn laments the whole sorry situation.

Winter's chill prevails
The rain just hails
The roads are icy
And driving's plain dicey
I'll sniffle and cough with all my ails. 

     And finally, Dave Coup sums it up.

Snowflakes continued to fall,
Much to the worry of all.
They covered the road.
At home we abode,
Stella has paid us a call.

 

    

       Happily, the temperature is warmer today. Snow is shrinking around the edges and settling. It’s also crashing off of roofs. Hopefully we will salute this as the last disaster of Winter 2017.

Christmas Lights Deprivation

            In addition to broken ankles and a host of other physical and psychological ailments, I suffer from Christmas Lights Deprivation. This disorder is caused (in my case) by being confined indoors—note earlier reference to broken ankles—without access to the beauty of illuminated outdoor Christmas displays, or IOCDs.

            That is one reason I was thrilled to attend the Christmas program at Watsontown Christian Academy on December 5. In addition to the inspiring (and sometimes hilarious) entertainment and the joy of reuniting with my students and friends, I rode six miles there and back with my nose pressed against the window like a dog, panting for Christmas lights.

            I enjoyed every house that had so much as a solitary electric candle in a window, and many homes and the town itself offered much more. Back home, from my bedroom window, I can see only one IOCD:  The neighbors across the street have several strings of white and colored lights across the front of their rental. God bless them for leaving them turned on all night!

            When my sons were little, we frequently drove from our home in Montandon to Mt. Pleasant Mills, about 25 miles, to visit their paternal grandparents. One Christmas evening the weather turned nasty, and we made our return trip through snow flying at the windshield, reminding me of the view from the bridge of the Enterprise as it zips through space at Warp 8. As a Trekker, I enjoyed that sight, but as a white knuckled passenger even on sunny days, I was clinging to the door and praying for mercy as we crawled along, unable to glimpse the road ahead.

            Every few tense, blind minutes, Christmas lights magically appeared to our left or right, assuring me our car was still on Route 35, inching toward Selinsgrove. I doubt the homeowners had us or other confused travelers in mind when they illuminated their properties, but their IOCDs guided us that night.

            Not only did Jesus proclaim, “I am the light of the world (John 8:12),”  he also told his followers, “You are the light of the world (Matthew 5:14) .”  

            He explained, “A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven (14 – 16).” 

            Indulge me my paraphrase:  A house built alongside the road cannot be hidden. Neither do people hang Christmas lights and fail to plug them in. Instead they turn them on every night and they give light to everyone on the road. In the same way, let your IOCDs—the lights on your houses AND the light in your hearts—shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

            May you give and receive the gift of Christ’s light this season.