July 9, 2014 at 10:59 AM
Tuesday, July 08, 2014 – Aditional post-Guest Columnist – My mom – June Jens
Today I received a copy of the article my mom wrote for her monthly newsletter in Madison, Wisconsin. She is 88 and did not start writing until about 10 years ago, but she always wrote such great letters, so I encouraged her to take it further. It’s important to note that she is nearly blind from macular degeneration and it takes an enormous effort to hand-write everything because of it. I felt such a powerful heartprint when I read her piece that I am posting it today. I didn’t change a word. Bing! BIG Heartprint!
Guest columnist – June Jens - Madison, Wisconsin – 88 years young!
It’s July and time to celebrate Independence Day. Every year when this day comes up, I can’t help but thing of the trip I took to Jakarta, Indonesia in 1996.
My daughter Mary and her husband John lived there for three years. John was there to assist in the building of a ceramic factory. When I got off the plane and entered the airport, it hit me dead-on that I was in another country. For one thing, I felt like a giant. . .everyone was so short! Then I saw Mary and John. They took me straight through customs. I was not searched because John told me he bribed the guards. Hmmm. . .I really thought about that.
When we went to visit the factory one day, we went to the front door, which was a series of many doorways. John explained they had to build them that way to keep the bad spirits out!
Later, when we were in a shopping area, a man sold me two small figures. He told me to hang them near my front door. . .to keep the bad spirits out. Wherever I live that is where I put them. Guess it works. I’m still here.
One other thing I learned. . .where tapioca comes from. I saw people working on the huge roots of a tree and was told they were harvesting tapioca. No wonder it’s so expensive. . .it’s all imported.
I could write a book on that trip as I saw the country as it really is. . .not what they show the tourists. Very poor country. . .those people really have very little.
After a long, arduous journey to get back home, I remember my first view of the United States in L.A.. If I could have, I would have picked it up and hugged it. I was so glad I was an American. And you should be, too. . .you really are fortunate to be an American and being able to celebrate “The Fourth”.
Each and every day I find something to be grateful for. My gratitude's are heartfelt, personal, moving and often humorous. Facebook followers have encouraged me to branch out. I hope you will relate.
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