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Betty L. Whitworth
15763 Leitchfield Road
Leitchfield, KY 42754
PRESS RELEASE
Betty Whitworth's first novel introduces Miss Callie, a school teacher in
rural Kentucky. Miss Callie and the people of Clifford's Knob become real
to us as we read stories about the twists and turns, troubles and triumphs in
their everyday struggles.
Some of the stories stand alone, but Miss Callie is the silver thread that
weaves them all together as her life intertwines with friends, students and
neighbors.
In this book the author draws from some of her own experiences as a
school teacher to pepper her stories with remembered real life situations.
The horror of a witnessed crime shuts down the mind and freezes the
heart of a young girl named Lily Rose. After weeks of trying, Miss Callie
finds the miracle key that unlocks the speech and melts the heart of the
child. We shed a tear when the little girl responds with her first spoken
word, "pretty."
Then we get a chuckle when Miss Callie's first driving lesson strays
from between curled-over hay rows to end up, car and all, in the shallow,
muddy cow pond where the only thing Miss Callie loses is one shoe. The
only damage she suffers is her dignity as the story spreads about the
incident.
An elusive love interest shadows her life as Miss Callie wends her way into
our hearts. We are left wishing for MORE.
Betty Whitworth is a published free-lance writer. Her articles have appeared
in newspaper columns and in inspirational periodicals. She lives in Kentucky with her
husband of 45 years.
Ione Craig
Instructor of "Just Write", a creative writing class
Poet and writer
Jeremiah's Hands
The little boy wore soiled pants and a shirt too small for his little body. As I
approached him I noticed a bad odor. I introduced myself and handed him a new
yellow pencil. He smiled and reached out a small, dirty hand. My first impulse
was to back away, but something in his eyes touched my heart. I suspected he
had experienced people backing away from him for a long time. His blue eyes
fixed on my face like he wanted to remember every detail.
It didn't take Jeremiah long to trust me. And, it didn't take me long to see him
through eyes of love. I was able to put aside the dirty clothing, the foul odor and
the grimy hands and see the heart of this little boy.
Before long Jeremiah wanted to hold my hand every time we walked down
the hall at school. It wasn't easy for me, but I could not reject this little boy.
As time passed we talked about personal hygiene. I explained that he should
wash his hands after using the rest room. He didn't like the idea, but he agreed
when I told him he couldn't hold my hand if he didn't wash first.
Another teacher brought a little bar of soap from a motel and gave it to
Jeremiah. He was thrilled. All day he sniffed it, but I had to remind him to use it
when he went to the rest room. Such a small thing to bring joy to a little boy.
Jeremiah loved books but he couldn't read. Several times a day he would ask
me to read to him. We read two or three books each day.
Well, school has ended for the summer. My thoughts are about Jeremiah. Does
he have enough to eat? Will somebody read to him this summer? Will
somebody love him? I hope so, for he is just a little boy and he needs love. It's
my prayer that I will have the opportunity to teach Jeremiah again next year.
CONFESSIONS OF AN IMPERFECT MOM
By Lisa Smartt (Regina Golden's daughter)
[Used by permission]
Visit Lisa's website at www.lisasmartt.com
Okay, I admit it. Sometimes I yell. Sometimes my kids don't brush their
teeth. I've opened crackers in the grocery cart. More times than I want to
admit, I've served overly processed meat products with no vegetables. I've
culled their Halloween candy for the "good" chocolate. I've forgotten
school deadlines and misplaced library books. None of our puzzles have
all the pieces. I've proudly organized my boys' toys into color coded bins
but, within days, found myself tossing Luke Skywalker in with Mr.
Potato Head...and not even feeling guilty about it. I've made chore charts
which I later used for writing my grocery list. I never carry tissues in my
purse. I've even been known to have my kids blow their noses on those
brown sand-paperish towels in the Wal-Mart bathroom.
And speaking of Wal-Mart, I've had my share of disastrous Mommy/
son melt-downs there over the years. I think Wal-Mart should have
special attendants available for moms of small children, don't you? I can
just hear it over the loud speaker, "Emotional meltdown on aisle 7.
Emotional meltdown on aisle 7. Weepy 36-year-old in need of
psychological counseling. Three-year-old needs to be bodily removed
from the vanilla wafers." It could work.
Ever read the signs in the Wal-Mart bathrooms that discourage shop-
lifting by saying, "It's not a joke or a prank."? I think every Wal-Mart
needs a large sign at the front of the store that reads: "If you're enter-
ing this retail facility with more than one child under the age of 4, think
about what you're doing. Think about it long and hard. It's not a joke
or a prank...it could end in serious disaster."
Of all the jobs I wanted to wildly succeed at, being a great mom was
at the top of my list. There was only one problem. It was a job I couldn't
master. It didn't help that I grew up in a generation of moms who read
approximately 143.2 books on becoming a great parent. My dad says
we're becoming more informed and less secure. I think he has a
point.
I'm all for the wonderful books on the market that teach us proper
modes of discipline and help us better understand our kids. I've
benefited from many of those books. But, I've finally figured out that the
perfect mom doesn't exist. It's just as well. My boys wouldn't be better
off with a perfect mom. There are things perfect moms can't teach. I can.
I can teach my boys about asking forgiveness because I model it. I can
teach them that one of God's greatest gifts is grace...ie. getting a blessing
not deserved. They can learn humility from me. I don't have to try to
"wow" a Kindergartener and a Second Grader with a human perfection.
I can point them to the perfection of God.
Don't get me wrong. I'm all for parenting with consistency, love,
discipline, order and instruction. But, I'm not depending on my own
ability to "nail" those concepts. At the end of the day, I still fall short.
How many of us could honestly say the following while lying in bed
at night? "Yep! Today I was quite a parent. I modeled patience and self-
discipline in every area. I taught my children the value of consuming
green vegetables. I enlightened them with both Scriptures and Shakespeare.
I always affirmed their gifts and in love graciously corrected their short-
comings. I gave them a sound and hearty lesson on oral hygiene and
the lesson was eagerly received. All 64 crayons are sharpened and neatly
placed in the original box. I can rest easy now".
Yeah. Not even close. My boys have an imperfect mom. They have
a mom who makes mistakes. But I smile at the end of the day when my
two little boys are all snuggled in their beds. I smile because I KNOW
that if they could choose any mom in the world, they'd choose me.
THE LEGACY
It is difficult to face certain truths. After several
years of illness, my cousin was getting worse. The prognosis
was not good for her. I took her Christmas cookies in 2001.
Instead of me cheering her up, she made me laugh and, for
a moment, I forgot her illness.
I didn't see her again for several months. When I
did see her again, it was obvious the cancer was
quickly taking its toll on her. I went home and cried.
My selfishness kept me from going to see her again for
several months. Instead I sent her copies of my books,
hoping she would understand that was my way of saying,
"I love you but I can't bear to see you like this."
She and her husband celebrated their anniversary and
all the family and friends were invited. I managed to find
the courage to attend. When her husband led her into the
fellowship hall of their church, I was overcome with
emotion.
People went to hug her and speak special words of
kindness. All I could do was sit at the table and sob. Every
time I looked at her, the tears started again. I just wanted to
hide in the crowd, but I knew I had to say something to her.
After about an hour passed, I finally gained my com-
posure enough to wade through the crowd and hug her. I
said a few words, but I don't know what I said.
As we drove home that day I said to David, "She won't
be here for Christmas, will she?"
"You never can tell," he said. I knew he was trying to
spare me more tears, but it didn't work.
A few months passed before I went to see her again. I
baked some banana bread and took it over. She was lying
in a hospital bed in the family room. Her husband, son, and
mother-in-law were there.
I stepped to the bed and spoke to her. She opened her
eyes and looked at me, but she didn't see me. I really don't
think she knew me.
Her husband followed me out.
"I'm selfish," I confessed. "I've stayed away because I
couldn't bear to see her like this. But, I should have been
here for her and for you. I'm sorry," I sobbed.
"Don't feel bad," he said, hugging me. "We know you
care."
I got in the car where David was waiting. It took me a
few minutes to tell him about the visit.
"She won't be here for Christmas," I said again. I felt it
in my spirit. "I'm so glad I came today."
One week later she passed away at the age of 57, just a
few days before her birthday.
At the funeral home her husband hugged me and said,
"She's at peace now. She's healed."
He is right. God chose to take her home to heal her. But,
it's not the end of the story. God will bring something good
out of this. I believe He will honor her prayers for her
parents and siblings to receive salvation.
She can't come back to us, but we can go to her. Praise
God for that!
I believe when I reach heaven she will be there looking
so beautiful and so healthy. We will sit by the river and talk
about all the good times we had as kids. Yes, I can go to her,
and Jesus has already purchased my ticket for the one-way
flight.
Cora B. I will never forget you and will always love you!
I'm glad you were my cousin. What a legacy of love you
left for all of us!
The end
WEEDS ARE LIKE SINS
Yesterday I decided to check around the house after David
cut the grass. I was amazed at how many weeds had sprung up
in flower beds and in borders. When was the last time I had
checked? Surely it hadn't been THAT long!
As I trimmed unruly leaves, pulled weeds and grass, I was
reminded of how sin in our lives can spread so quickly. Had I
kept a closer check on the flowers around the house, the weeds
and grass wouldn't have taken such a hold. But, those areas were
out of sight, so I failed to pay close attention to them.
Sometimes we fall into "little" sins that don't seem significant.
We shove them out of sight and tend to forget them. If we don't
check our spiritual condition often, those "little" sins will grow
and multiply and try to choke out the "good" we try to do.
As I cleared these areas of unwanted weeds and grass, I
spotted something unusual beside an old stump in the back yard.
It was purple and, from a distance, looked like a petunia. But,
I had never planted petunias near that stump. On closer in-
spection I discovered that it was a petunia! Two years earlier
I had a large pot of petunias sitting on the old stump. Somehow
a seed from one of those petunias had found its way into the
ground and lay dormant until this summer. With all odds against
it, it still produced one tiny, perfect, purple bloom!
Again, I realized that things can lay dormant in our lives for
a long time before they are manifested. Those things can either
bring forth good or bad.
If I had only noticed the little petunia earlier, I could have
nurtured it and perhaps helped it grow into a large, healthy plant.
But, I failed to make frequent inspections of the yard.
When we fail to make frequent inspections of our lives, we
could face a similar situation. The seed of "good or evil" may be
lying dormant, just waiting for the right moment to spring forth.
If we don't detect the good seed early enough, we will fail to
nurture it; if we don't detect the evil seed early enough, it will
get a root hold before we know what is happening.
God always seems to show me spiritual truths in nature. And,
this is just another example of that.
QUITTER OR GO-GETTER
B. L. Whitworth
Of all days to experience car trouble! My daughter was late for
school and I was late for an appointment. The engine started,
chugged, sputtered and died. "Come on!" I scolded, feeling my
blood pressure rising into the danger zone. "I don't have time for
this. If you can start, why can't you get moving?"
"I forgot my homework," Karen whined. "My teacher will be
mad."
"I can't help that now," I yelled. "This car isn't going to get us
anywhere anyway. We're stuck here, and nobody is stopping
to see if we need help."
"Call somebody."
Of course. Why didn't I think of that? I searched through my
purse for the cell phone. Ah! Now things would happen, I thought
as I dialed the number for the service station where we always
get our work done.
In a few minutes the tow truck pulled in behind me. Al took his
good old time getting out and investigating my problem.
"Well, what is it? How soon can you fix it?"
"Looks like you got water in your fuel line." He moved the wad
from one cheek to the other and spat on the ground. "Take a day
to get it running."
"A whole day! I don't have a whole day! I need to drop Karen
off at school and I'm already late for an appointment."
"You got a better solution?" he growled.
"No. I'll call my neighbor. Maybe she can pick us up at your
station."
Marge picked us up and delivered Karen to school and me to work.
All day anger bubbled up every time I thought about the car
incident. Like a bolt of lightning, I realized something important--
something that would change me forever. The car had a good reason
for starting but not running. What was my excuse? I had started
many projects over the years, but many I never completed. It was
easy to "start" the projects, but it wasn't easy to keep plugging
along and finish.
"Dear God, please remove the water from my fuel line so when
I start I will run and complete the task before me. Amen."
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