The  Fruitful  Vine

"Thy wife shall be as a FRUITFUL VINE by the sides of thy house." Psalm 128:3a

Unfolding Beauty                                    annonymous
A Word to the Daughters in the Land     Scripture
The Longing In My Heart                       by J. Kirkpatrick
The Mother                                            by Pearl S. Buck

A TRIBUTE TO DAUGHTER

Submitted by Karen Maskey, OH

Walk a little closer, Daughter,
and tell me what's the matter.

I'd like to share you dreams and plans,
I love to hear your chatter!

I have walked this way before,
and I've had questions too.

Walk a little closer, Daughter
and you'll be glad you do.

Walk a little sweeter, Daughter,
Our tongues can be a pity.

Stamping feet and pouting mouths
don't make us look so pretty!

God gives us beauty from inside
much nicer than a dress.

Walk a little sweeter, Daughter,
and that will please me best.

Walk a little neater, Daughter,
You'll still have time to play.

Pick up your dolls and clothes and shoes,
and put them all away.

Your hair should shine, your dress be clean,
and no mud on your shoes.

Walk a little neater, Daughter,
that's what God would choose!

Walk a little slower, Daughter,
You're growing much too fast.

Enjoy your dolls and tea parties,
'cause girlhood days don't last.

Cherish rainbow, stars and sunshine,
you'll soon be grown up too.

Walk a little slower, Daughter,
and we'll be glad you do.

UNFOLDING BEAUTY

anonymous

You came as a very special, unexpected gift. You became my gift from God, His heritage, loaned to us, to nurture and raise for His glory. Shy and very withdrawn, as a delicate lavender orchid, waiting to blossom forth in awesome splendor. At first, not knowing, the young woman inside, you hesitated, fearing the future and foundation wavering. Thank you for allowing us to join in your unfolding beauty. Through every beautiful stage of your maturity we prayed for guidance and direction.

Your willingness to become God's special flower touched our hearts. Your family respects your inner beauty. As you break forth in all His beauty, remember all the growing along the way. We love you very much. We desire the best for you in this your "special blossoming" day.

A WORD TO THE DAUGHTERS IN THE LAND

"O daughter of my people, gird thee with sackcloth, and wallow thyself in ashes: make thee mourning, as for an only son, most bitter lamentation: for the spoiler shall suddenly come upon us." *** Jeremiah6:26

"Rise up, ye women that are at ease; hear my voice, ye careless daughters; give ear unto my speech. Many days and years shall ye be troubled, ye careless women: for the vintage shall fail, the gathering shall not come. Tremble, ye women that are at ease; be troubled, ye careless ones: strip you, and make you bare, and gird sackcloth upon your loins." Isa 32:9-11

THE LONGING IN MY HEART

by J Kirkpatrick

Japanese mothers, in the midst of poverty, hang a thing of beauty so their babies eyes only light on the beauty instead of the evil around them. The Amish women, longing and searching for beauty in their colorless existence, plant beautiful flower borders. The city harlot adorns self, searching for any touch of beauty in her dark world. The American women work outside the home to dress their children in outward beauty.

What are they searching for? Why are they so unhappy? Listen! As one mother tells her story... My father and my father's father have all left me this legacy. I know not what is in my heart. But something cries out deep within my soul, "Beautiful daughter, come, find what your heart is longingly searching for." Oh, how many times I have heard this voice from within my being, crying out for something, I know not what.. It seems always just beyond my grasp. As a small girl, I often sat and innocently watched my family, my house and my village. Always came this voice from deep within, "Search, my daughter, and you will find what you are searching so much to find.

I searched for love, I searched for hope. I searched and searched for a purpose. Why was my father always sad, shoulders bent? His heavy burden seemed to hard for my young mind to comprehend and to understand. "Father, can we not go away from the hurt you must endure? Is there not some beautiful valley between the mountains we might retreat to?" For a moment I would observe a ray, a gleam of hope cross his face. But just as quickly he would always voice these words to me. "Oh foolish daughter, I must live as my father and my father's father have lived. Be not disrespectful to their memory my daughter. But inside my heart, the longing would not stop. Why was I always drawn away from my poor surroundings? What was inside my being that cried out for something more?

In our village are a few wealthy families. As I grew into young adulthood, I received an order from my Father that I was to serve in one of these houses as a servant girl. In our society, this was quite an honor for my family. Obediently I went to my new destiny. yet in my heart, I could not be happy. I longed for something more. I would spend much time in my master's beautiful garden serving tea, caring and tending the flowers, the bridges, the ponds and the waterfalls. Something in me began to awaken. Why had I never seen such beauty before?

Father, does this beauty exist in our world???

This is an unanswered question in many hearts. As fathers and mothers we need to assure that we provide beautiful things for our young ones eyes to gaze upon.

"I will set no wicked thing before mine eyes:" Psa lm101:3

Ps 119:37; Job 31:1; Isa 33:15

THE MOTHER

by Pearl S Buck

With the coming of the cool days of late autumn, they were all back in Soochow again, and there was born her first little daughter, Maude. She was a small, fat, pretty child, very fair of skin, and with brown eyes and curly fair hair. That was a happy winter with the two children. Edwin had grown astonishingly and was beginning to talk and to sin, and Carie delighted to lay the baby in her crib and have Edwin sand at the organ while she played and sang to them. The baby listened, her eyes wide, and Edwin developed a clear, tuneful little voice.

Carie was the gayest mother. She picked up here and there from her few books and magazines and out of her own head little rhymes and songs, and she filled her children's lives with merriment so that later when they looked back and realized with maturity how lonely and narrow an environment was about them, they were conscious of no loss because they had had her rich companionship. Part of this gaiety was the overflowing of her own buoyant heart, but part of it was a conscious determination to shield her children from the Oriental life about them too beautiful as it was, and too sad, for childish hearts. She was always oppressed with the too abundant humanity of the Orient, with its acceptance of human suffering and human passion. She did not want her children to know these too early. yet what beauty there was that they could bear, she wanted them to have. She held her baby up to the window that she might hear the pretty silver tinkle of the little bells on the pagoda, but she hung a ruffled curtain on the lower sash so that Edwin could not see the beggar who sat all day at the foot...

During that winter, she definitely gave her life first to her children, and with the deepening experience of motherhood, she began to live more deeply within herself. She began the old pondering about God. All through the years, she had looked for a sign from God, a definite sign of approval, and none had come. she could not be sure at any time that the swift emotions of her own heart came from any other source than her own heart and desire. God never came down to her with visible sound or movement. But it seemed to her after a while that her little children taught her much about the God she hoped in --- their dependence on her, their little faces turned to catch her mood, their clinging hands --- to the end of her life she would say, "How much more they taught me than I could teach them!" She would fall into meditation and say at last, "I suppose we understand God's purposes as little as those babies knew mine, even my purposes for them. They trusted me for all their lives, confident in my love, and because of that, willing to believe that I knew best. I think that must be the way we ought to see God --- simply trust that He is there and cares." It came to be her complete creed. Excerpts from "The Exile"


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