Home

For this final post of gratitude this month…Home. Grateful for having one, providing one, and having one to return to. Happy Thanksgiving.

41sokimyZ6L._SX466_2dcb47e5327b4d2763d4caecae5aa717hb-home-quotes-1661tKvbiXUvL._SX425_

Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout would not take the garbage out – Shel Silverstein

bac60160924f03c7d6c39f258d0df35f

 

SARAH CYNTHIA SYLVIA STOUT
by Shel SilversteinSarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Would not take the garbage out.
She’d wash the dishes and scrub the pans
Cook the yams and spice the hams,
And though her parents would scream and shout,
She simply would not take the garbage out.
And so it piled up to the ceiling:
Coffee grounds, potato peelings,
Brown bananas and rotten peas,
Chunks of sour cottage cheese.
It filled the can, it covered the floor,
It cracked the windows and blocked the door,
With bacon rinds and chicken bones,
Drippy ends of ice cream cones,
Prune pits, peach pits, orange peels,
Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal,
Pizza crusts and withered greens,
Soggy beans, and tangerines,
Crusts of black-burned buttered toast,
Grisly bits of beefy roast.
The garbage rolled on down the halls,
It raised the roof, it broke the walls,
I mean, greasy napkins, cookie crumbs,
Blobs of gooey bubble gum,
Cellophane from old bologna,
Rubbery, blubbery macaroni,
Peanut butter, caked and dry,
Curdled milk, and crusts of pie,
Rotting melons, dried-up mustard,
Eggshells mixed with lemon custard,
Cold French fries and rancid meat,
Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat.
At last the garbage reached so high
That finally it touched the sky,
And none of her friends would come to play,
And all of her neighbors moved away;
And finally, Sarah Cynthia Stout
Said, “Okay, I’ll take the garbage out!”
But then, of course it was too late,
The garbage reached across the state,
From New York to the Golden Gate;
And there in the garbage she did hate
Poor Sarah met an awful fate
That I cannot right now relate
Because the hour is much too late
But children, remember Sarah Stout,
And always take the garbage out.
 

Rachel Held Evans

190504173121-rachel-held-evans-death-exlarge-169

Credit to the New York Times for bringing my attention to Rachel Held Evans. Her story is an inspiring and tragic one.

The NYTimes Daily podcast had a featured episode on June 3rd, 2019.

To listen to it is inspiring, thought-provoking, and quite moving. It compelled me enough to want to write a blog post about her.

From Wikipedia:

Rachel Held Evans (née Rachel Grace Held; June 8, 1981 – May 4, 2019) was an American Christian columnist, blogger and author. Her book A Year of Biblical Womanhoodwas on The New York Times e-book non-fiction best-seller list[1] and Searching for Sunday made The New York Timespaperback nonfiction best-seller list.[2]

Evans was placed in a medically-induced coma in April 2019 following an allergic reaction to medication for an infection.[14][15] By May 2, “severe swelling of the brain” worsened her condition, and she died on May 4.[16][17]

Here is the link to the podcast from the NYTimes:

In a brief but prolific career, a young writer asked whether evangelical Christianity could change. In doing so, she changed it.

Here is An Evening with Rachel Held Evans

She made the most of her life. She questioned. She has left a legacy.

https://rachelheldevans.com/