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We've Only Just Begun
by Marilyn Mackenzie
March 29, 2002

Funny. As I sat at my writing place this morning thoughts of something I'd read recently kept interrupting my thought process. Ah well. I guess that means I should succumb to the urge to write about that which I had read. Sometimes, my thought process evolves better while writing than while merely thinking. What I read was a suggestion that each of us make a musical CD recording of our lives, 90 minutes of music representing who we are or each stage or phase of our lives. What a concept.

I wonder if there is any music to represent my beginning. Baby Girl Mackenzie was born on April 13, 1952, on Easter Sunday, to two rather pale individuals, of German and Scottish heritage. Shortly after her birth, this chalky white baby with blue eyes and blonde hair so light that it was barely visible was placed in the arms of a darker woman with olive skin, dark hair and dark eyes, perhaps of Italian or Spanish heritage. Said woman was not the brightest person, and noticed not that the baby she placed at her breast was not the same one she had cuddled earlier, the one with dark, thick hair and dark eyes. Baby Girl Mackenzie's mother noticed, though, and screamed loudly, "That's my baby!" My world could have been a different one if the switch had not been so obvious to my mother. Yes, I wonder if there is a musical score to represent that beginning.

I wonder as well if there is any music to indicate how shy I was as a child, always clinging to my mother's skirts. Or of how afraid I was of talking to strangers and friends alike, and also feared anything new.

As a preschooler, my mother and I sat in front of the television, daily, as we worked on lessons of drawing and cutting. The projects we made were part of the "Charming Children" program. I remember, barely, some snippets of that time with my mom. But I do remember looking up at her and seeing love in her eyes. That time together while my infant brother was sleeping was our time, and how special it was. As part of our "Charming Children" experience, I got to be on television once. I remember being dressed in a white sweater and red plaid, wool pleated skirt. It was, after all, fall or early winter, and the time for such clothes. But the TV studio lights were so hot that I wished I were dressed in a sun dress, or better still a bathing suit. I wonder if there is any music that can help recall that special time.

Did you know that before Fred Rogers became Mr. Rogers in his PBS show, he worked the puppets for Josie Carey at WQED in Pittsburgh on a show called "The Children's Corner"? I believe it was a national show for only one year. My mother and I can still sing some of the songs that Fred Rogers and Josie Carey sang together on that show. The characters were the same - Daniel Tiger, Henrietta Pussycat. But back then, Mr. Rogers was a behind the scenes person and not out in the spotlight. I wonder if it might be possible to find recordings of the music my mother and I still break out into, while the rest of the family watches us in disbelief? "I give a hoot for you..." Or, "this has been such a day. I was walking on my way. I saw an owl in a tree. He smiled and gave a hoot for me. I found "The Children's Corner."

There are probably some classical pieces and show tunes that I should include in my musical diary to remind me of the time I spent playing the violin. Not only was I in the school orchestra, but in All City Orchestra as well. From 2nd grade to high school, I carried my violin back and forth from home to school, being subjected often to ridicule for my choice of instruments. In 9th grade, our school choir and orchestra performed "My Fair Lady." We were really quite good, performing the entire musical score. Some of those tunes should be a part of my musical diary.

Later, of course, there were plenty of tunes - rock and roll songs - that remind me of my pre-teen and teen years. There are songs that make tears well up in my eyes as I remember a past love and others that remind me of being a part of a church youth group, and I smile. "Bridge Over Troubled Water" and "Hey Jude" were played each time our youth group met.

Still other songs remind me of being a part of our high school choir. How excited we were when our choir director passed out new music and we discovered that it was something on the radio - "Up, Up and Away." (You know...in my beautiful balloon...) We never could make that sound like it should and scrapped the idea of singing it, going back to more traditional school choir songs, and knowing our friends would make fun of us once more. The songs from "Fiddler on the Roof" were part of our repertoire, as were "The Star Spangled Banner" and our school Alma Mater. I still remember all the words to my Alma Mater. Want me to sing it to you?

There are plenty of Christian melodies and hymns that can chronicle my spiritual growth. Some remind me of my grandmother. One with the words, "It was alone the Savior reigned in old Gethsemane, alone He drained the bitter cup and died for you and me" reminds me of the only time I remember my mother and I singing a duet in church. It was Good Friday, and I was a senior in high school.

At age 26, I moved to Houston. Prior to that time, I believed that all country music was the twang-twang kind. How exciting it was to discover the music of Willie Nelson, Kenny Rogers and Crystal Gayle. I even learned to love some of the older country western singers, like Patsy Kline, and songs like "I Go to Pieces" and "Crazy."

As a regional sales manager, I taught my sales associates the importance of helping each other and the customer, even if a sale didn't result. They learned that by thinking of others, sales did result. We started each sales meeting listening to the words "That's What Friends Are For" by Dionne Warwicke. But, my job also included getting those sales people excited about selling, and when I first heard the tune "Get On Your Feet" by Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine, I knew I had to include that tune in our sales meetings. The song says, "Get on your feet. Get up and take some action." What better words can there be for a group of sales representatives? (I'm betting, though, that they wouldn't include this song in their own musical journals. They did grow weary in hearing it!)

When my son was born, I learned to listen to children's music again, both secular and Christian. Even today sometimes, my teen son and I break out in song while driving in the car; "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

And what of now? What tune would I choose to end my musical journey? What song might represent where I am at this moment in time? The answer came quickly to me. "We've Only Just Begun."

copyright 2002 Marilyn Mackenzie

What Do You Miss?

What Do You Miss?
by Marilyn Mackenzie

As you sit and reminisce about your childhood years, is there something you miss? Something you wish our young people today could experience? Something that made that innocent time of your life so special?

I'm a baby-boomer, and I do sometimes wish my own son and the children all around us could experience life as I did. Of course, I wouldn't wish on them the experience of having a U.S. President killed, nor the fear of nuclear war and having "war drills". But, the beginnings of space exploration were quite exciting for us. (Now I can wish they had not experienced the tragedy of the World Trade Center!)

Our lives were so much simpler than those of the children today. I imagine if there could have been a shooting in our school, it would have been accomplished with a bb gun or a sling-shot. But, even that would have been almost impossible, for we respected and valued each other more, and would not have harmed each other.

There are many things I remember fondly about my childhood: I remember when the price of popsicles increased from five cents to six and to seven cents. Our ice cream man used to park in our driveway, and often gave my mom a "deal" on purchasing something that just didn't sell. Once we had boxes and boxes of coconut popsicles to give out at one of our family get-togethers. I still like them!

Of course there was the milk man, whose truck also carried eggs and cream. Sometimes we were rewarded with chocolate milk, and at holiday time, even eggnog.

The bread man had the most wonderful Easter candy each year. I think one of his relatives made the candy, and perhaps he wasn't even supposed to sell it from his truck. But, it was so good!

Recently, I was reminded of something from my childhood that really made an impact on me, and it's something that today's children have not experienced. That one thing is the apron. I was reminded of how special aprons were when I received my daily Heartwarmers Newsletter from www.heartwarmers.com.

Aprons, to me anyway, represent something our children have missed. As I recall homes where I lived in and the homes of relatives and friends, I remember drawers full of aprons. Whenever there was a gathering of extended family and friends, all the females from about age ten and up were given an apron to wear as they helped prepare meals or cleaned up afterwards.

There were small aprons that just fit around the waist, and those more like jumpers that also fit around the upper portion of the body. There were plain aprons and rather fancy ones. Some had towels sewn into them for wiping hands. Most had pockets for collecting things around the house while one cleaned. All, to me, represent a time when women stayed home, and where extended family gatherings were an important part of our lives. They represent a time when there was always a pie or cake or cookies baking in the oven. And they represent a time of innocence, and love and sharing that our children just don't know.

Perhaps that's another reason why I wanted to home school my son. I wanted to pass on some of that innocence and love and sharing. I wanted to be the mom with something baking in the oven, so that my son would equate the smell of vanilla and cinnamon with sharing and caring.

Today's children think that aprons are something men wear when they grill hamburgers outdoors. How I wish I could take them back to a time when our kitchen was full of girls and women in aprons, aprons of all sizes, shapes and colors. How I wish I could show them the joy those women seemed to have as they fellowshipped and laughed and sang together.

Perhaps what our children are missing is not really the aprons themselves, but the love they represented. Perhaps they are missing out on having grandparents and aunts, uncles and cousins gathering for wonderful family events. Perhaps they are missing having friends and neighbors looking out for them almost as much as their parents, and being allowed to rebuke them for inappropriate behavior.

I still smile as I wear an apron in my own kitchen and think about those times. It almost makes me want to put on a pair of skates - the kind that went over my shoes and had a key. Or climb the nearest tree. Or grab a hoola-hoop and twirl it around my waist. What do you miss from your childhood? What do you wish our children could experience?

copyright 2001 Marilyn Mackenzie
We Must Be Bold!

We Must Be Bold
by Marilyn Mackenzie

I began working at the local daily newspaper in August, and not long after starting there, I wondered whether I should quit or not. I really felt I didn't belong there. I just couldn't get excited about "bad news" and tragedy. Early in September, a local family-owned hardware store, right across the street from my apartment, burned to the ground. Paint cans started exploding about 10:30 p.m. that night, just as I was about to go to bed. That was exciting for the reporters and editors at the paper. For days, our front page boasted something about that fire.

As one who lived right across the street from the tragedy, and who heard the explosions that sounded first like a gang war, then like bombs going off, I didn't see the excitement at all. The night of the fire, my neighbors and I were up until about 3 a.m. Even then, the stench from the chemical fumes was so great, that our apartment maintenance man closed the fresh air vents to the air conditioning for our apartments. Some businesses and houses were without power half the night. The fire even flared up again the next morning about 7 a.m. What was exciting about a neighbor losing a business? Would it have been even more exciting if the paint cans that flew across the street and were imbedded in the grass had hit someone? I wondered even more why I had taken a job at the newspaper.

Then, a week later, an even bigger tragedy happened in New York City, Washington, DC, and Pennsylvania. I wrote the following on Sept. 12, 2001.

************

On Tuesday afternoon, I had the opportunity to talk with many people in some business and government offices. All expressed horror, of course, about what had transpired just hours before. But, a more surprising common chord was the desire to talk about God, prayer, matters of faith.

As I thought about these conversations, I was pleased that people within our community were standing proudly, announcing pride in country and the flag, and just as proudly and humbly, a belief in God. Then I thought, "What if we had all been standing proudly for our country and humbly before our God these past 30 years? Would this have happened to us then?" I have to wonder.

I once taught a vacation Bible school class for a group of five year old kids. The experience, the things those children taught me, I speak of often. One little boy made a lasting impression on me when he announced that, "Having Jesus in your heart is like having mayonnaise in your tuna sandwich. Unless the mayonnaise is really mixed into the tuna, the tuna is yucky. And if we don't have Jesus mixed up in our whole life, our life is yucky too." I imagine that was a message this young child had heard in a children's sermon. But, it was a lesson he remembered and was able to pass on to me, his teacher.

How true that lesson is! And as I sit here thinking about that, I realize that no government can tell me that I can't speak of my love of the Lord Jesus in my work place or in a school environment. Christianity is not just a religion. It's a relationship with God the Father, Jesus the Son and our Comforter, the Holy Spirit. Governments and employers can't tell us with whom we may have relationships. And if they allow others to speak of their best friend, Jim, at the water cooler, then they must allow me to speak of my best friend, Jesus. If others care not to hear the story of Jim once again, they are free to walk away or turn a deaf ear. But, his friends are just as free to talk about him. The same should apply to me and my friend Jesus. If one doesn't care to hear about my friend, let him walk away or turn a deaf ear. But, in this country, I should have the right to speak of my friend everywhere I go!

I know one gentleman who is convinced that if a streetlight turns off as he passes by, it's the UFO's blessing him. As crazy as that sounds to most of us, as a public school substitute teacher he was free to share this belief with the kids in his class. But another Christian friend, who is full of the joy of the Lord, cannot respond truthfully to students when asked, "Why are you always so happy?" Nonsense! Of course she can and must tell students that the reason she's so happy, the reason she can still rejoice even in the midst of tragedy, is that she has a relationship with Jesus and her joy comes from the Lord. With Jesus mixed through and through, as the mayonnaise in a tuna sandwich, Christ is part of her very being. No one can ask her to leave a part of her personality, her very being, at home while she works.

When we are in love with a person, we talk about them. We proudly show the engagement ring we just received. Why don't we all proclaim proudly that we love the Lord? Because someone told us we couldn't? Why have we allowed ourselves to be silenced?

If asked what is your favorite book, one proudly should admit that the Holy Bible is your favorite book. Whether a teacher or government official or business leader, if asked, we must be able to answer honestly. No one can make us lie or pretend that another book is our favorite.

You might wonder what all of this has to do with the tragedies of this week. I believe they are related. I believe that the world has watched our inner turmoil. I believe the world has watched the "civil war" we've raged for years about whether or not we are free to be Christians anywhere we go, or whether we're only free to be who we are while with others of like mind or when we're at home or in church.

The world has watched as Christians have become closet Christians, attending church and leaving the armor of God at the church steps. The government and people whose opinions differ from ours have forced us into silence. I believe the world has watched what was once such a strong, proud, patriotic, and God-fearing country become weakened by these struggles about matters of faith.

Throughout the country, people are being brought to their knees. They are, now, boldly talking about God in their offices, are praying with co-workers and fellow students. Let us continue to be bold!

People are being urged to fly the flag proudly in their homes, offices, even in their cars. Fantastic. Let's show the world we're united and stand behind our President.

Let's do more, though, folks. Let's take our Bibles to work as well. Put one on your desk or in your bookshelf at the office, and read it and pray on your coffee breaks. Have Bible study or prayer meetings at the workplace. Post the Ten Commandments on your wall.

Let's be bold, as our forefathers were, for the Lord!

Copyright 2001 Marilyn Mackenzie