Thursday, March 02, 2006
Opportunity
Hanging in front of me so that I can read it every day is a quote from Thomas Edison: "Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work." So true. Some of the greatest joys I have experienced were produced with elbow grease and sweat. God certainly knew what he was doing when he gave us work to do. The feeling of accomplishment, especially when combined with helping others, creates more positive feedback than praise, drugs or entertainment.
What some of us would call "failure" Edison called "learning". Not one of his inventions was an overnight success, but were the end result of many failures. Someone has said there is no shame in falling down, but in refusing to keep getting up again. Trouble and trials are the only way to learn perseverance, and the older I get the more thankful I am to have experienced the woes of the Great Depression as a child, with hard work on the farm to toughen my body and will.
What some of us would call "failure" Edison called "learning". Not one of his inventions was an overnight success, but were the end result of many failures. Someone has said there is no shame in falling down, but in refusing to keep getting up again. Trouble and trials are the only way to learn perseverance, and the older I get the more thankful I am to have experienced the woes of the Great Depression as a child, with hard work on the farm to toughen my body and will.
Making Do
We lived out in the country and seldom went to town.
If problems reared their ugly heads, there was no help around.
Old innertubes and baling wire served as a first-aid kit
to fix the various machines, windmills that threw a fit.
A piece of old shoe leather could cure an ailing well.
A shoe-box made a gasket. The stories they could tell!
Tin cans were used to patch the holes where rats came through the floor
and scraps of leather formed the hinges holding up the door.
New shoes were scarce, and when our feet were showing through the soles,
a piece of cardboard cut to fit would cover up the holes.
Some copper wire from batteries repaired a gaping seam
as long as any hope remained, their short life to redeem.
With good fresh air and sunshine, we seldom came up sick,
but kerosene or castor oil would always do the trick.
The only time that I had seen a doctor since my birth
was when I had a shot for whooping cough, no cause for mirth.
With patches on our cotton-sacks and patches on our jeans,
the world could see the evidence: we lived within our means.
For more than mere necessities we didn't give a thought.
We'd sure be in an awful fix if happiness were bought.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net
We lived out in the country and seldom went to town.
If problems reared their ugly heads, there was no help around.
Old innertubes and baling wire served as a first-aid kit
to fix the various machines, windmills that threw a fit.
A piece of old shoe leather could cure an ailing well.
A shoe-box made a gasket. The stories they could tell!
Tin cans were used to patch the holes where rats came through the floor
and scraps of leather formed the hinges holding up the door.
New shoes were scarce, and when our feet were showing through the soles,
a piece of cardboard cut to fit would cover up the holes.
Some copper wire from batteries repaired a gaping seam
as long as any hope remained, their short life to redeem.
With good fresh air and sunshine, we seldom came up sick,
but kerosene or castor oil would always do the trick.
The only time that I had seen a doctor since my birth
was when I had a shot for whooping cough, no cause for mirth.
With patches on our cotton-sacks and patches on our jeans,
the world could see the evidence: we lived within our means.
For more than mere necessities we didn't give a thought.
We'd sure be in an awful fix if happiness were bought.
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net
