It's been a long time since I rode my horse and dressed in my cowgirl cloths, and went dancing, but I am waiting for the chance once more. I was born, and raised on a farm where horses, and cattle were the main source of pleasure. When I got married I left the farm life, but it never left me. I have tried for years to reform to city life, and act like it was in my blood, but it never made a hit with my true feelings. There are things that I would not want to relive while growing up on the farm, but some things I still love to remember. I loved riding with my brothers on our horses, and going to the pasture to round up the cattle for coming in to be milked. I loved boots and hats, although I never owned many. I was not allowed to go to dances because my dad thought they were a bad place to go. It wasn't until after I married that I learned to dance. To this day the only music I like is country western. I love the old hymns that we always sang at church with a piano, and organ music. I probably can sing by memory part of hundreds of hymns. I silently sing myself to sleep every night. I believe the writer, and publisher of those old songs were inspired by the Holy Spirit contrary to the noise of what most churches use today, and call worship service.
I am writing this blog as
a result of what I read on face book yesterday. I had not thought of
it like this before. A person wrote, “ It is impossible to raise
your children today like we were raised because we are living in a
totally different world.” Our children would be sent to a councilor
at school if they were acting like their parents, and grandparents
did when they were in school. If you stop and think about it, I
probably would do the same thing if I were a teacher today even
though it would be for a reason that I myself did, or didn't do, when
I was a student. If I were to be driving a model T car, and having to
use a crank to start it, like my dad did, I would be sent to a mental
institution today. So where do we stand on accepting the constant
changes in life.
When I was growing up, I
actually can't remember hearing of anyone committing suicide. Today I
was reading statistics that stated every forty seconds someone in the
world was committing suicide. That sounds like a future that I don't
look forward to since it increases daily. To most people today a
western style dance is a joke. A hymnal in the church pews is a
bigger joke, but to those past sixty, it is nothing but mere
endurance to attend a dance of modern style, or sit through a church
service. What genus is living that can explain this to me?
God Bless
Myrtle Jean Sharp
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