I found the following story at one of my daily pit stops, The Blogmocracy. It's the story about a very brave little boy named Aidan. Aidan is just like any other five year old boy, full of energy, enthusiasm and creativity. The one thing that makes different from other boys his age is that Aidan has Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. That's a pretty tough hand to be dealt to anybody, much less a five year old kid.
The Blogmocracy picks up the story there, "On September 13, 2010, 5-year-old Aidan was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL). He was strong and pulled through his first round of chemo all while teasing his nurses and vistors. Although this was a small victory Aidan, unfortunately, must go through 2 to 3 more years of chemo treatments and everything that goes along with that."
This story caught my eye for two reasons. The obvious one is that it's about a five year old boy with a horrible disease. The second is that one of my new grandsons is named Aiden. I shiver at the thought of my Aiden having to deal with such a terrible illness at such a tender age. These two boys are at the age where they should be playing kickball or learning to ride shiny new bikes or even going fishin' with their Dads and Grandpas, not getting brutal chemo treatments for two or three years.
Aidan, the sick boy, is taking the bull by the horns when it comes to his illness. He's drawing pictures like the one at the top of this post, and selling them online to help offset his medical bills, which have to be astronomical. With so much spirit, it's no wonder that Aidan's prognosis looks promising. Promising outlook or not, those medical bills still have got to be paid, so here's a link to Aidan's website where you can purchase one of his drawings! I like the cut of this young man's gib.
Aidan also has a Facebook Page where you can drop him a line of encouragement, as well as a page on his website where you can learn some things about this remarkable young man and his family.
Thanks to savage at The Blogmocracy for posting this story on his site and allowing me to post it here. It's the time of year for giving, so if you are able to buy one of Aidan's drawings, by all means, please do. If not, there's a "donate" button on the home page of his website,where a donation of any size would be much appreciated, I'm sure.
Aidan, you have friend in Maine, my man. I'm here for anything I can do to help a young brotha out. Email me at threestatesplusone AT gmail DOT com anytime, buddy.
To my readers, I ask you to please pass this on to friends and family. Aidan is counting on us all to pitch in, in whatever we can. Thank you and God bless you. And God bless an amazing five year old boy named Aidan.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Thanksgiving Thoughts (Lots of Them!)
It's a beautiful, chilly (22 degrees) Thanksgiving morning in New England. I wanted to take just a minute of your time to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving! Here are some posts that have a lot to say about Thanksgiving.
- I mentioned some of the things I am thankful for in this post .
- I also showed that the First Thanksgiving in the New World was held in Texas,
- Maine also had a Thanksgiving before the Pilgrims did.
- Yesterday, I had some thoughts and memories of Thanksgivings past.
- My blog buddy, no2liberals had a nice story about his early Turkey Days.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
A Friend Recalls Thanksgivings From Years Past
A few years ago my blogging friend n2l wrote a great piece about Thanksgivings from his youth. I wanted to share it with you because it hit home with me and I think it'll do the same to you. Read and enjoy.
A Thanksgiving Message
I was reading my Facebook page this morning and I took notice of a comment made by a friend of mine in Texas. His name is Joe. It was a short, simple comment that really packed a wallop. Joe said that he wanted to thank his wife, Kim, for all the hard work she's putting into making Thanksgiving a truly special day for him and his family. Those few words hit me like a ton of bricks. With the excitement of the holidays, we (we meaning men) often take for granted the tremendous amount of time and effort that wives, Moms and Grandmas put forth in doing what they do that makes holiday gatherings extra special - cleaning the house, grocery shopping and of course cooking up feasts fit for kings. And the cleaning that follows these get togethers ain't exactly a walk in the park.
As I thumb through the memory pages in my mind recalling some Thanksgivings of yesteryear, I can smell the apricot fried pies Grandma Shoemaker used to make for us kids and the homemade biscuits the size of half loaves of bread that Grandmother Cowger was world famous for, at least with the family and some friends that shared Thanksgiving supper with us. I can hear the joyful sounds of children playing and laughing, oblivious to wonderful aromas emanating from the kitchen and the buffet that will soon be served. The buffet that one Thanksgiving somewhere in the future that they'll be talking about with their children, reliving that moment long ago that has stayed with them through the course of their lives. Kinda like I am doing right now. One of my favorite things about those Thanksgivings of my youth was saying grace before diggin' in. The honor of being picked to say grace over Thanksgiving supper was a huge responsibility, but a welcomed one. I don't remember the words, but I do remember some of the most beautiful prayers ever uttered said over the supper - so eloquent and so heartfelt. Words straight from God spoken by one of His children, and God was pleased.
As I type this, Heather is busy in the kitchen getting food prep done for our Thanksgiving Day supper, making memories that some day we'll share with our grandchildren. New smells and new memories in the making that trigger a flashback to the times of my kid hood and those Thanksgivings long since past, but not forgotten. I just hope that the Good Lord will speak through me when I say the grace at our supper tomorrow and give me the words to express just how thankful I am for the blessings in my life that are far more than a wayward son of God deserves. I have forsaken Him many times in my life, but He has never forsaken me. I have been blessed in ways that humble me and remind me that God is always nearby to pick me up when I fall. Nearby when I act like anything but a son of God. Nearby to calm me when life deals me adversity. Nearby to put some wisdom to me when my own "wisdom" fails me. Nearby when I look at my two little girls sleep, dreaming the way only a child can. Nearby when I am less than a good husband or father. Nearby. That's where God is. Nearby.
As I thumb through the memory pages in my mind recalling some Thanksgivings of yesteryear, I can smell the apricot fried pies Grandma Shoemaker used to make for us kids and the homemade biscuits the size of half loaves of bread that Grandmother Cowger was world famous for, at least with the family and some friends that shared Thanksgiving supper with us. I can hear the joyful sounds of children playing and laughing, oblivious to wonderful aromas emanating from the kitchen and the buffet that will soon be served. The buffet that one Thanksgiving somewhere in the future that they'll be talking about with their children, reliving that moment long ago that has stayed with them through the course of their lives. Kinda like I am doing right now. One of my favorite things about those Thanksgivings of my youth was saying grace before diggin' in. The honor of being picked to say grace over Thanksgiving supper was a huge responsibility, but a welcomed one. I don't remember the words, but I do remember some of the most beautiful prayers ever uttered said over the supper - so eloquent and so heartfelt. Words straight from God spoken by one of His children, and God was pleased.
As I type this, Heather is busy in the kitchen getting food prep done for our Thanksgiving Day supper, making memories that some day we'll share with our grandchildren. New smells and new memories in the making that trigger a flashback to the times of my kid hood and those Thanksgivings long since past, but not forgotten. I just hope that the Good Lord will speak through me when I say the grace at our supper tomorrow and give me the words to express just how thankful I am for the blessings in my life that are far more than a wayward son of God deserves. I have forsaken Him many times in my life, but He has never forsaken me. I have been blessed in ways that humble me and remind me that God is always nearby to pick me up when I fall. Nearby when I act like anything but a son of God. Nearby to calm me when life deals me adversity. Nearby to put some wisdom to me when my own "wisdom" fails me. Nearby when I look at my two little girls sleep, dreaming the way only a child can. Nearby when I am less than a good husband or father. Nearby. That's where God is. Nearby.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Maine Minutiae: The First Thanksgiving in Maine
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| The First Thanksgiving |
English explorer George Weymouth had spent the summer of 1605 exploring the coast of Maine. Upon completing his mission, Weymouth returned to England where the news of his voyages excited many of his countrymen including several businessmen. A new venture to Maine was planned and Weymouth again set sail to the New World with about forty-five settlers. The group made landfall in Maine in Augusta, 1607 at the mouth of the Kennebec River at what is now Popham Beach. The article goes on to state "The settlement at Popham Beach lasted only 13 months, but historians Gould and Hatch document that the settlers having safely arrived from England, built their shelters and prepared for the coming winter, held a celebration of Thanksgiving in the fall of 1607, a full five years before Pilgrim’s first Thanksgiving."
The reason that the settlement at Popham Beach was so short-lived is chronicled thusly, "In the winter of 1608, the storehouse burned. That winter, the Popham settlement’s president, George Popham, nephew of Sir John Popham, died of unknown causes. Raleigh Gilbert--a relative of the maritime adventurer, Sir Walter Raleigh (or Ralegh)--succeeded Popham. The following spring, a ship bringing supplies to the Popham settlement also brought Gilbert news that his brother, John, had died in England leaving him a vast fortune. Gilbert returned to England in September of 1608, bringing with him the remainder of the settlers."
So that, in a nutshell is how the first Thanksgiving in New England came to be. With that, I wish you all a happy Thanksgiving with family and friends. Be sure to take time to really think of all the blessings you have to be thankful for.
Texas Tidbits: Talkin' Turkey
Since we are just a couple of days away from Thanksgiving, I thought we'd take a look at a Texas town that's got a Thanksgiving kind of name. The town? Turkey, Texas. We have talked Turkey before on Three States Plus One right here when we did a feature on Turkey's most famous resident, Bob Wills.
The community was first settled in the early 1890's and was originally called Turkey Roost due to the large numbers of turkeys roosting on nearby Turkey Creek. In 1893, the name was changed to Turkey when the town was granted a post office. The post office was housed in a dugout owned by Alfred Hall, for whom Hall County (Turkey is southeast Hall Co.) is named. A dugout was the primary shelter for the early residents of Turkey because of the lack of trees in the area needed to build houses.
The population of Turkey has gone up and down like a Duncan Yoyo over the years, reaching a high of about 1000 in 1929. It was during this time that a young full time barber and part time fiddle player was cutting hair in the daytime and "fiddlin' around" at night. That young barber would go on to become one of the most famous musicians in history. Bob Wills became the King of Western Swing and a worldwide star. The town of Turkey still celebrates its most famous son with a Bob Wills Museum, parades and displays of Bob Wills memorabilia all through the town. If you want to learn more about Turkey, Texas, just click on the previous link and you'll get a ton of information, and before long, you'll be a able to talk turkey about Turkey. :)
The community was first settled in the early 1890's and was originally called Turkey Roost due to the large numbers of turkeys roosting on nearby Turkey Creek. In 1893, the name was changed to Turkey when the town was granted a post office. The post office was housed in a dugout owned by Alfred Hall, for whom Hall County (Turkey is southeast Hall Co.) is named. A dugout was the primary shelter for the early residents of Turkey because of the lack of trees in the area needed to build houses.
The population of Turkey has gone up and down like a Duncan Yoyo over the years, reaching a high of about 1000 in 1929. It was during this time that a young full time barber and part time fiddle player was cutting hair in the daytime and "fiddlin' around" at night. That young barber would go on to become one of the most famous musicians in history. Bob Wills became the King of Western Swing and a worldwide star. The town of Turkey still celebrates its most famous son with a Bob Wills Museum, parades and displays of Bob Wills memorabilia all through the town. If you want to learn more about Turkey, Texas, just click on the previous link and you'll get a ton of information, and before long, you'll be a able to talk turkey about Turkey. :)
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