Ronda Rich

Syndicated Columnist

On summer days, our swimming hole stays pretty busy. In fact, Tink has taken to keeping a calendar of who wants it when.

Often, I sit on the porch to write and hear the sweetness of childish laughter drifting across beautiful green grass, past the barn and through the trees that are filled with beauty and leaves. One of the donkeys, sassy Belle Watley, no doubt, bellows. She seems to know when I’m close by, even though she can’t see me, so she is demanding a treat. The birds sing, the dogs bark, and the cats laze on the rock wall beneath the enormous maple tree.

I remember when we planted that maple tree 16 years ago, a couple of years before I knew John Tinker. One friend, Brandon, borrowed a trailer to bring three huge maples home wrapped in tweed sacks. My wonderful neighbor, Doug, who never says no to helping anyone, brought his backhoe and dug. I poured two gallons of water in the hole and we planted the trees. They are now a sight to behold: large and stunningly beautiful. One is so beautiful that it looks man-made but we know it was God-made. Several times, the trees have been saved by prayer when vicious storms came calling.

The perfectly shaped tree looks like the ones I used to draw with crayons in the third grade.

One day, somewhere on the back side of the Rondarosa, my beloved friend Patti spread out a colorful blanket laid with cheerful pottery for a party of sandwiches and tea for her grandchildren. As they played, she took an opportunity to teach them manners and etiquette.

That’s how it is on weekdays with stay-at-home moms and retired grandparents. Nothing makes Tink and me happier than to hear the happiness that rings in the air.

Occasionally, high school cheerleaders celebrate their past year and the cheering season to come.

It is a privilege to share our blessings. It’s a responsibility that is expected of us by He who gave them. “But glory be,” as a friend of mine says. “sometimes we get loaded down with blessings.”

To us, it’s just pure joy and it comes from the old-fashioned times of my childhood. As a kid, I used to wade through creeks, looking for frogs and pretty rocks.

One time, I found a smooth rock that was perfectly round and I cherished it for years.

Today, families are too busy.

Especially on weekends when it’s some kind of tournament or school commitment. When I was 16, I had a job at a radio station, then I added working at a dress shop where I could buy my dresses for 40 percent off (though I still couldn’t afford them).

On Sundays, though, I stepped back into a slower rhythm. We attended a small clapboard church with wood floors and pews made of pine slabs that pinched like heck. Finally, we put together enough money to replace those with comfortable red padded pews. What a sight it was on that Sunday morning when everyone sat down. Happiness drifted across the church. That morning, we sang only happy, fast-moving songs like “When We All Get To Heaven.”

Every Sunday, Daddy would look at his watch then at me. “Little ‘Un, it’s time to ring the bells and bring everyone in to start church.”

I hurried to the white ropes that controlled the heavy bells in the church steeple. With all my strength, I pulled the ropes down, then they pulled me back up as the bells began to ring. I wiggled my way down as the sweetest sound I ever heard filled the air and now I wonder why we don’t hear church bells anymore? I know a few churches ring their bells but I wish all would do it to gather the Lord’s lambs into the fold.

After church, we had a glorious Sunday dinner. Then, the adults settled into rocking chairs and talked, the men in one room, the women in another. We children played outside happily. And if it was summer, we went down to the swimming hole with other cousins and friends, until it was time for Sunday night church.

Back then, we had leisure time, not busy time. I wish the kids today knew what we kids knew back then.

Less busy is more fun.

Ronda Rich is the best-selling author of the forthcoming book, “A Merry Chatty Christmas.” Please sign up for her free newsletter at www.rondarich.com.