THE ESSENCE OF A ROSE

                            




      When my daughter sent me this picture of her rose yesterday, her comment was," Mom, here is you a story. The essence of a Rose." I am sure we wonder how something as beautiful as a rose can come from all the thorns that it endures. Plus the wind, rain and sun. This is the story that came to my mind this morning as I lay in bed trying to wake up.
          "It's gone!!" said the Rose. "What are you talking about?" I said. Now who can carry on a conversation with a rose? But it was crying and the drops of dew looked just like tears to my mind's eye. "My pedal!" said the Rose. "One of my pedals is gone." As I looked around, I could see nothing amiss. But this Rose continued to sway in the breeze as it searched for the lost pedal. My imagination kicked in, and I pictured the Rose asking questions. "Have you seen my pedal, Mr Leaf?" cried the Rose. "No" said Mr. Leaf. The questions continued. "Have you seen my pedal, Mrs Frog?" said the Rose. "No, I haven't seen it." says Mrs. Frog. "Have you seen my pedal, Mrs. Owl?" said the Rose. "No, I don't believe so," says Mrs Owl. How many more she questioned and each answer was the same. No one had seen the lost pedal. I was thinking to myself that all roses lose pedals but this was different. This Rose was in the yard of my daughter and it was hurting. Suddenly a light shone through for the Rose to see. The pedal was floating upward on the air currants toward Heaven. "I know, I know."cried the Rose. "Jesus took my pedal. He wants to smell the essence of His creation."
       As I came fully awake, I knew the Lord was telling me that all things must come to an end. As each life begins, so must it have an end. Some are shorter than others so we only share them for a while. Then the Lord will take them up to His glorious Heaven and we will have the essence of them forever in our minds.

MY MOTHER-FLORENCE LOUISE JONES cont.

Continuation of My Mother
To let you know a little more about my mom, she was a very productive person. She made her own clothes and mine. I can remember her cutting a pattern out of newspaper of a dress that she had seen in the Sears catalogue. The one she made looked just like the picture only a different color. I was amazed that someone could do that. She said her mother taught her to sew. She designed floral arrangements of fresh and artificial flowers, decorated beautiful cakes, drew pictures and played the piano. She never took lessons, she just played by ear. And she was a beautician.I was her Guinea pig. Once she dyed my hair blue for a hair show in Atlanta and the color had to wear off. The next show, she just used pink hair spray and it washed out.
And her cakes were just beautiful-one cake she made for my 6th birthday was decorated in pink and red with small heart cakes in each corner. There was a big heart shaped layer in the middle of her sheet cake. I thought this was the first red velvet cake because of the white frosting and red layer. But I was just a little girl and I just wanted a red cake. But it was so soft and moist and it was mine. I never did get that recipe. One cake that she did use quite often is a 1, 2, 3 cake which I have included in one of my recipe stories. Mom had a flair for any decorations including Christmas. She put red and green cookies on the tree in the shape of stars and bells. Unfortunately for me, they were not the eating kind.This took place in the 1950's. She could place magnolia leaves on the mantle and some pine cones sprayed silver and gold around with a few homemade candles and it turned out great. I could never make candles until they came out with kits. I always wondered what my mom used besides paraffin. I do know that she learned alot from her mother and their cooking was done on an old wood stove.
Mom was one of 6 girls and they all had many talents. They were known as the Jones girls in Floyd county during the 30's time period. And they were beautiful, every one. My Aunt Aline was married to a farmer and lived in Adairsville, GA. She never had her hair cut in her entire life. When it wasn't in a bun, it would hang below her hips. Aunt Josie was married to a florist and they had a shop in North Rome called Whitehead's Florist. They had a farm in addition to the florist and he raised cows. Aunt Sybil worked most of her like just to raise her children but she could can and preserve vegetables and fruits like no one I have ever seen. Aunt Totsie sang in a Gospel quartet and her husband was a butcher. He worked with his dad at a store in North Rome. Their store was across the corner from Aunt Josie's florist. Aunt Doris was a homemaker but she worked at the phone company as an operator. They don't use those girls anymore. Just about everything is automated. All of these amazing women are gone now except for Aunt Doris and she will be 80 years young this May of 2011.
These are people who helped steer the course of my life. I have a little of each person in me and it carries on through my children.

MY MOTHER-FLORENCE LOUISE JONES

                             Florence Louise Jones 1920-1959
                  daughter of William DeLay Jones and Nancy Marylou Kilgore Jones (Nannie)

  Some memories stay in your mind forever and some you would like to forget but that doesn't happen. On August 18, 1959, my mom had worked in her beauty shop all day and was going out to eat rather late. I had my first day of school the next day and I couldn't go. It was my second freshman year at East Rome High School as I didn't pass enough units for the 10th grade. She told me to get a bath and go to bed early so I piddled around for a while, watched a little TV and talked on the phone before bed. About 12:00, I heard someone banging on the front door so I thought mom had forgotten her key. I sat up in bed and then got up and went to the door. It was my Aunt Josie and she told me mom had an accident so we had to get to the hospital. I was scared as we rode to the old emergency room of Floyd Hospital. As we pulled in, Uncle Ed came out the big sliding doors and said, "She's dead." "What, no!! what happened," I cried. He said the car overturned and when it flipped, Mom went through the windshield. This can't be happening. This is a dream. Don't let it be real. It can't be real. Say that it's a lie. This only happens in the movies. But it was real. My Mother was dead. This beautiful woman who I adored was gone from my life. Not only did she leave me, but my 2 brothers as well. Larry and Kenneth were at home on East Second Street in front of the City Clock. Our cousins from Smyrna, GA, (David and Jimmy Hawkins) were spending a week up here before their school started. My dad met us at the funeral home with the coroner at Stevens Funeral Home on 6th Avenue before they transported her to Jennings Funeral Home on North Broad Street.
This was a nightmare that I had to get through. How can you do this when you are 15 years old. Picking out a casket at my age was not something I wanted to do. I should be picking out new clothes for school. New school supplies and meeting my friends at the Krystal on Broad for lunch. Maybe riding the bus to Paula's or Diane's house. The movies was even better but not this. Asking me questions about her hair and fingernails. Picking out a dress and flowers. I was just too young for this chore. But it was reality and I was numb. No more beauty shows with blue hair. No more facials. No more learning about make-up. No more shopping sprees for new shoes or dresses. No more going out to lunch or even to the drive-in.
Her body was taken to my Uncle Cliff's house for viewing and receiving friends until the funeral hour. I don't even remember who came to this or with whom I talked. I guess we had many relatives attend the house but I just don't remember. I don't even remember eating anything and I know there was plenty of food. My dad took us to my cousin's house in Gunnersville, Alabama to spend a couple of weeks to pull ourselves together and talked to the schools. We did not start on time that year. I don't know how they get around our absentee but nothing was ever said. For a few years, I was still in a daze. Nothing was right. I couldn't pick up the phone and call her. She wasn't standing in the door when I got home from school. I didn't know how to go forward from this tragedy. My best friend was gone from my life. Who could I talk to and tell about the new cute boys in my class or my new girl friend who just moved to town. How does life go on from here.
But I did go on and it wasn't easy. Boy did I make some mistakes and I mean whoppers. I was out of control and I didn't care. But I did survive. I had a rock in my dad who was more that a dad, he was also a survivor and he worked and took care of us. His family always came first. I didn't realize that until I got married. He did alot for us. I was his daughter, his first child and he loved me. That was all it took after I learned to accept it. His love and guidance. He was always there for me. Even though they were divorced, he stepped in and paid for her funeral. He didn't have to do that and most men wouldn't, but he was there and picked up all the pieces and put us back together. continued.

JAMES WILLIAM BURNS JR. OBITUARY

JAMES WILLIAM BURNS JR. 

March 11, 1984-April 14, 2011

 

   James William Burns, Jr., age 27 of Calhoun, died Thursday, April 14, 2011 at his residence. He was born in Gordon County on March 11, 1984, son of James W. Burns, Sr. and Linda Lea Jones Lanier Kinney.

James was a veteran, serving his country in the US Army. He was employed by T3 Industries as a Maintenance Technician, and attended TrueNorth Church.
Survivors include his wife, Misty Bryant Burns; two sons, Solomon David Burns of Calhoun, and Payton Taylor Burns of North Carolina; a daughter, Riley Marie Burns of Calhoun; his parents, James W. Burns, Sr., and Lea Jones Lanier Kinney; three brothers, William Mills of Atlanta, Kyle Daniel of Calhoun, and Chad Lau of Dalton; and three sisters, Amy Mills, Brittany Erwin Fairbanks, and Fallon Burns, all of Calhoun. A special dad, Milton Mills.  Grandparents surviving are Marvin Burns, Rhonda and Warren Hawkins, Marvin Jones, and Linda and Clay Woody, all of Calhoun.
Funeral services for James William Burns, Jr. will be held Tuesday, April 19th at 2:00pm from the chapel of Max Brannon and Sons Funeral Home, with James Wisener officiating.
The family will receive friends at the funeral home Tuesday from 11:00am until the funeral hour of 2:00pm.

James William Burns Jr. a tragic loss

                                          James with his wife, Misty and his grannie, Rhonda
                                              

    On Thursday evening, April 14, 2011, my daughter was visiting with me for a while. Her husband had gone fishing and she just didn't want to be alone. She had ridden to my house on a 4-wheeler and wanted to be home before dark. So she left about 5:00. I was sitting at my computer, typing a story when my back door opened and Jimmy and Joey came in, carrying Julia and she couldn't breathe. As I was trying to get her settled, she said "he's dead." "Who are you talking about?" I asked. She said, "Jamie!" "He hung his self." I went numb. This can't be happening. My precious grandson can't be dead. He is too young. I have to go first. NO NO NO don't let this be real. But it is real and as I sit here remembering his too short life, I think about all the times I forgot to tell him I loved him or even gave him a hug.

     For the first 2 years of his life, he was my shadow. His baby bed was in my room as that is where he slept. When I was at work during the night, he was in his Aunt Julia's room and he was her baby, her pet and he loved her with a passion. Even after her son, David, was born. James was still her child. No matter where he was, he would call his Aunt Julia. He lived in Atlanta for a while but when he was in the area, he would always come by to see us.

     When I think about the mental disease of bi-polar, I wonder if something more can be done about it. I remember seeing movies about this condition and how it affects young adults. Most of the time, it ends in death. No one saw the signs of his condition yet it was there. His medicine had side effects and suicidal tendency's was one of them. Another was inflicting pain on his self. His step-dad, Milton Mills, noticed a few weeks ago that James had taken a knife and made a mark down the side of his face. He asked him why he did this and he just said, "to kill the pain." I can't imagine what was going thru his mind to be that unbearable.
Could we have done something different? His brothers and cousins are at a loss of what to do and what to say to his children, his wife, and all relatives. His uncles are beside their selves with grief. Our first born is gone and they were all there at the hospital to see him come into the world. It is surreal. How can we go on without him. His beautiful smile, his funny personality, his polite manners, his devilish good looks, and his character. How long will it take for our pain to go away? I love you, James and I miss you already. But I will see you again. <><

Go rest high on that mountain James as we will see you again
When you get where you are going, watch for your Grannie as I will not be far behind.
I am 67 years old so I have lived well past half of my life.
Even if I live another 10 years, it will be as a moment in eternity.
GOD is my refuge and my strength and HE will see me through this time of sorrow.

                                             James and Misty with his Aunt Julia

A MOTHER'S PRAYER

This poem was written by Lt. Col. John Bramblet Beall during his time in the Civil War. His mother had seven sons to serve in this conflict of brother against brother and state against state. It is included in his book "In Barrack and Field", a book of prose and poetry. It took me about 6 years to find any texts from this book. John was the brother of my great-grandfather, Captain Noble Newnan Beall.

A MOTHER'S PRAYER


On the border of a valley where the Tallapoosa glides,
Where the placid trails of nature, In the forest shadow hides
There, by wood and glen surrounded, Deeply hidden in the shade,
A mixtic homestead, ancient founded, Rears its unpretending head.

Peacefully, the night if closing, Closing softly o'er the scene,
And saddened heart's in peace reposing, Dreams of joys that once have been.
But in that wood-embowered cot, One there is, who dreameth not;
Unto the widow's God a prayer, Is rising through the silent air;
Angels pinions bear it heavenward, Angels hands record it there.

"O God, thou hast been good to me, And every blessing thou hast given;
My love, my life I owe to thee, But grant me this, O God of heaven:
That be my young, my wayward son, Now gone to mingle in the fight,
The struggle of his life begun, May ever tread the path of right.

Guide him, O God, in honor's way, Shield him from the treacherous foe.
And teach his erring heart to pray, And look to thee in every woe.
To thee, O God of Israel's king, Son of the holy virgin bride,
O bend his early faith to cling, And let his hope in thee abide.

And O forgive, forgive the pang That rends a mother's anxious heart!
Thou knowest the anguish throes that hang, Around the hour when loved ones part."

Thus she prays, and faith, new-springing, Bears the burden of her soul
Up to Him whose praise, ringing, Sound while endless ages roll.

NOBLE NEWNAN BEALL FAMILY

Noble Newnan Beall Family, circa 1896 at Dallas Co. GA homePorch, L-RGeorge Griffith, Mary Emma Beall Griffith, Thomas Noble Beall, Maude Blanche Beall, Jessie Eliza Beall. (Children not id), Noble Newnan. Beall & Eliza Caroline Brown Beall (seated), baby not id; standing possibly Nancy Ella Beall & Lucy Capitola Beall.
Standing on ground, L-R Benjamin Burke Beall, Samuel Augustus, James Guy Beall. (my grandfather)
Seated on Porch steps, L-R front, John Otho Beall; 2nd row, Egbert Hinton Stephen Beall, Preston Leroy Beall; other children on steps are not id; seated far right: Dr. William Henry Beall, wife Lola Chambliss B, Sarah Catherine Beall. Fourteen children in all.:

I received this picture from a cousin in Alabama of my family. I know all the names of Noble Newnan Beall's children, but I was wondering if anyone knew who the grandchildren were. I could probably find out from speculation but I am hoping someone out there recgonizes their ancestors.:

MY HOBBIES CROCHETING

                                                           CROCHETED BRIDE DOLL

As you all know, I enjoy my hobbies. Whether it is writing poetry or stories, gardening, playing the piano, singing, collecting my bells, sewing, quilting, or chasing my ancestors, I love them all. But probably my all time favorite is crocheting. I use to sit and watch my mom crocheting when I was little. She would make rugs out of rags and sock loops. There  was a sock factory on East Third Street and Larry and I would go down and pick up sock remnants for mom to make the rugs. I learned to crochet when I was about 9 years old. I didn't make many things until my daughter was 6 and wanted a poncho to wear to school and I picked it back up, Have been doing it ever since. Started doing some more intricate patterns and baby booties for shower gifts and afghans for babies. I quit for a while so I could make some quilts and then picked it back up one day when a pattern came in the mail. It was a southern belle doll and I fell in love all over again with the toys and started buying books with different animals. Some were only 6 inches tall. Cats, frogs, rhinos, dogs, and bears. Even an Elephant crocheted in pink. Plus the clowns. Everyone loves the clowns. It doesn't even matter what color they turn out just so they are clowns. One day as I was walking through Walmart, I saw a bride doll pattern. So I bought it and got started. This was for an 18 in. doll with a 12 in. train. Julia has a bride doll that we used in her wedding but it is a Barbie doll and I could not see how to use that small thread. But the larger doll was easier. After I finished with her, I went to Hobby Lobby in Cartersville to get a glass case to display her. I continue to crochet today but not as much because my eyes are getting so bad that it is hard to see even the big stitches. But it is still fun and the people who have received one of my gifts have told me that they really enjoy them. I have entered many of my projects in the fair and won many ribbons. A  red rose garden that I gave to my sister-in-law got blue, an Indian doll complete with beads and feathers got red, plus the panda bear. He is still wearing his blue ribbon. The first and only Barbie doll dress that I tried won a blue ribbon. My daughter, Julia, has claimed it but I have granddaughters and great granddaughters who would love them all. I feel like a young girl again when I am making the doll dresses. I have made a Santa Claus that Julia displays for Christmas and I have a Mrs. Claus, with small glasses. and snow white hair.  Guess I will never grow old  that way because I still have a bride doll setting on my dresser. Had one on my bed when I was growing up and she remains in my memory. All of the memories are good to tell my children and grandchildren. That is why I write them down for them to read. Plus I enjoy the telling. I remember my grandmom telling me stories about her youth and I was fasinated so I continue on with the family tradition.

                                                                   PANDA BEAR
                                                            




         CLOWN