 Read along or just click below and listen to INVITING FAMILIES TO STOP FOR A STORY, originally published as Episode 9 on The Writer's Reverie Podcast on The Writer's Reverie Blog, and simultaneously in RUBY Magazine in September 2016. Running time is 18 minutes. Brew some tea and stop--for a story. Note: The following is a repost of monthly podcast episodes I recorded under the title, The Writer's Reverie Podcast. They may not show up in order here on the new blog platform, but you will eventually find all 25 episodes under the menu tab AUDIO STORYTIME. I hope you'll enjoy this library of inspirational stories, history lessons, literary chats, and devotionals for the whole family. Do you sometimes feel like a fractured family? Too much busy in your lives? The demands of home, work, church, school, activities, relationships, and the complexities of 21st century living keep many modern day families rushing about in opposing directions—especially now that school’s back in session and our summer vacations are just a happy memory. But, we can be too busy, and even more separated from one another, just sitting in our homes surrounded by all our modern communication tools. Electronics captivate and shorten attention spans. Social media keeps us connected, filtered through touch screens and emoticons, but imprisoned in a virtual world of news and chatter. Minds learn to expect satisfaction at the click of a button. We lose the ability to wait in the realms of delayed gratification. We squirm with crankiness, weighed down with stress, chasing the minutes of our day . . . tick-tocking away. Children are trained in this from their earliest years, now. Overstimulated and loving it, with insatiable appetites for non-stop action. It’s a challenge to keep up with them. Do you ever just want to turn the world off and escape? Turn back the clock? Recapture a slice of simpler times? Slow down? Maybe even come to a complete STOP! A hundred years ago, life moved at a much slower pace. Folks didn’t have all the modern conveniences to minimize the cumbersome details necessary to daily life. But, they seemed to have more time on their hands to accomplish the chores required of the day. People lived closer to the beauties of nature—more down to earth. Slower days, with less expected of them in it, they enjoyed the luxury of taking their time in their tasks. Minimal distractions. Harder work—but rewarding. What if I told you that’s precisely what you can do when you prioritize family reading as a lifestyle . . . when you purpose in your household—with all ages, all at the same time—to STOP! For a story. Taking time to slow the pace and make a place for reading aloud together seems an archaic activity. But, it was once a normal part of family interaction in years past. In those slower days, novels and storybooks became precious moments and memories shared together. Even when state-of-the-art inventions like the STEREOSCOPE captivated family literacy in the home with 3-D visuals and stories told in captions on cards—like the picture below:  In 1861 Oliver Wendell Holmes invented a hand-held wooden viewer to hold a rectangular card with two identical images side by side, fastened in place by wires. A person put the goggle-framed eyepiece against his eyes, and looked through square lenses to see the two images on the card—just few inches away—blend magically into one three dimensional image with depth. Families passed the amazing image around, taking turns while someone read the caption on the back of the card. Travel images, stories, and current event view cards were very popular for family entertainment—and as a companion to reading books aloud together. The stereoscope eventually became the View-Master sensation of the mid-20th century, but by then radio, long playing records, and television had usurped books in popularity. The family was more likely to gather in the evening and bicker about which channel to switch on, and program to watch, rather than what book they might all read out loud and enjoy together. But, really now—what type of reading can satisfy mom, dad, boys, girls, toddlers, teens, and even grandma and grandpa, all at the same time? To answer that question, we must first determine the overarching purposes in developing such a reading routine. Each member of the family will have differing tastes in literature. But, this does not need to become a divisive element to family reading, because it doesn’t even enter the equation. WHY Family Reading? Before you begin, you must set the ground rules of understanding WHY you’re gathering together in one place to open a book and read aloud as a family—all ages, all at the same time:
WHAT Books are Best for Family Reading? Some 2,400 years ago, Plato advised in his classic work of Western thought, Republic, that “It is most important that the tales which the young first hear should be models of virtuous thoughts . . . then will our youth dwell in a land of health, amid fair sights and sounds, and receive the good in everything; and beauty.” The last part of that quote might sound familiar to you if you’ve hung around me for the past decade or so. It’s been my personal tagline expanding the moniker I wear as an “enrichment artist” and storyteller: Telling stories that lead to all good things and beauty. It is also a snapshot of my life verse in Philippians 4:8NKJV: Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy— meditate on these things. Plato understood that virtue is developed in the human heart purposefully. The stories of our youth have great import in the process. When we understand that our family reading lifestyle has higher purposes than merely amusing family entertainment the choice in literature to read aloud becomes clear: Is it a virtuous tale that will lead to all things good and beauty? Is it a story that illustrates truth, noble thoughts, justice, purity, loveliness, goodness, virtue, and praiseworthiness? If you’re feeling like that fractured family described above, enhance your parent-child relationships as you develop a regular habit of family reading, modeling a love of learning. This is what I mean when I use the term, “family literacy.” Family Literacy To be literate is to be learned and instructed. To do so in the context of a family unit cements the nurturing heart of home to the instruction of the mind. The impact of this on every family member in the sphere of their emotional well-being, personal worth, and confidence, with an expanded capacity to love and be loved, is incalculable. Reading aloud as a family builds minds and binds hearts.  I can trace my calling today as a writer, speaker, and dramatist, back to those cozy moments cuddled on the couch with my own mother. She opened a poetry book that had once belonged to her mother—a gift from an unrequited suitor in 1925. Grandma married my grandfather, but kept the poetry book. That book became an integral part of my mother’s literacy lifestyle growing up. She took it with her when she married and regularly read aloud to me and my sister from it. There were no colorful pictures—let alone 3-D images to captivate. Just small yellowed portraits of long dead poets whose work contributed to the volume titled, One Hundred and One Famous Poems. I never minded that there were no pictures. When mother read select favorites, images like a movie screen materialized in my mind’s eye. The cadence of the words lingered like a melody. Each reading session was peppered with questions to better understand the story. Constructive conversations about important concepts challenged my thinking. My love of learning and literature was sealed. Even today, when I perform some of those classic poems speaking on this topic, I hear mom’s voice echoing the delivery in my ear. She may be gone, enjoying the company of Jesus now—but our earthly relationship lives on in every work I write, read, or dramatize. We shared the glories of STORY together! When days were slower and there weren’t so many buttons to push us speedily onward against the clock, stopping for a story was foundational to our lives. And I am better for it. But, that was fifty years ago. Today’s modern family has been severely hampered by the vile efforts in society to redefine the family and place restrictions on the authority of parents. A monster government claims to be a better arbiter of what is best for your children. In fact, a whole generation has been trained to relinquish the reins of their children’s education to a public society and popular culture run wild. True Story I collect antique and vintage books—especially school books. I’ve made the comparisons to modern textbooks. For all the supposed progress of society, all the state-of-the-art tools for learning, Jane and Johnny aren’t reading near the level their counterparts of a hundred years ago were. In many ways, we are living through a very dark age of illiteracy in these contemporary times. Much of today’s popular literature and entertainment targets the base nature of the human heart—including a good deal of what is marketed to children, and especially in the young adult genres. Language is dumbed down and absolute morality is replaced with overstuffed tolerance levels of “anything goes” and “do what is right in your own eyes.” Hmmm. The biblical Book of Judges has some lessons for us on that score—but that’s another article all in itself! STOP for a Story In this busy, rush-about, wild world, where everything seems to work together to pull families apart, reading stories aloud as a family can make a lasting impact for all good things and beauty in your lives. STOP for a story as a family and schedule time regularly to curl up with quality literature. Use these precious hours as opportunities to engage in constructive conversation about important virtues and traditional values mined from the stories you read. Parents must own their place as the primary educator and mentor in their children's lives, and can do so through the pages of a good book. Choose your family reading literature prayerfully, and boldly go against the pop culture tide. Here’s a short list of suggestions to start you off: Read the Classics--Invitation to the Classics, edited by Louise Cowan and Os Guinness is a great place for parents to rediscover the masters and make quality choices for reading with older children. I also recommend works by C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkein, George MacDonald, Lucy Maude Montgomery, G. A. Henty; and for the young ones, A.A. Milne, Kenneth Grahame, Laura Ingalls Wilder, the Betsy-Tacy series by Maud Hart Lovelace, and the Tales from Shakespeare by Charles and Mary Lamb. Read SELECT Newbery Award Winners—Pre-1960’s--The older title winners are far superior over some of the recent winning titles that do not possess the quality content in plot, language, or characters to pass the plumbline of Philippians 4:8. The Borrowers series by Mary Norton is a favorite of mine—though not a Newbery winner, it took the Carnegie Medal for outstanding children’s literature in 1952. Highly recommended. Lamplighter Books—A popular press for homeschool families seeking quality classic literature written for children elementary grades and up. These are beautiful, hardcover reprints in the design of antique books—a work of art, each one—both in word and binding. They harken back to the 19th century so there’s lots of great opportunities to follow-up with a bit of historical background of the times. The quaint, melodramatic elements tug at heartstrings and feed imaginations. Lamplighter carries a host of titles as well as audio book dramatizations. CLICK HERE to check out Miss Kathy's Recommended Reading Lists for grades K-12 and develop a Family Literacy Lifestyle! And don’t forget to . . . Read the Bible—Parents can look ahead at what they’ll be reading with their family in regards to literature, and find select Bible references that relate to the story being read. But, don’t miss the opportunity to get a good reader’s Bible in a translation that lends itself to reading aloud. The Message by Eugene Peterson and The Voice published by Thomas Nelson are perfect for this. Build your family relationships through family literacy—reading and thinking together through the power of story. In so doing you will make cherished memories while igniting a love of learning and literacy in your family, all ages—all at the same time! Did you enjoy this post? How has it blessed your day today?
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  When George Washington commissioned Betsy Ross to create the first American flag in the spring of 1776, his design featured a six-pointed star. He thought cutting equal sides in a six-pointed star would be easier than a five pointed star. However, Betsy knew better. She astounded him with her demonstration of how easy it was to cut equal-sided five-point stars from fabric with just a few folds and a scissor snip. Here's a tutorial to cut your own 5-pointed star, just like Betsy! The directions call for practice on an 8x10 sheet of paper, but you can make any size star, following those dimensions, larger or smaller. Follow these step-by-step directions from Pageant Wagon Publishing and plan a star-spangled celebration for Independence Day, other patriotic holidays, Christmas celebrations, or planetarium studies. Did you enjoy this post? How has it blessed your day today?
Please COMMENT, LIKE and SHARE it in your Social Media Network to help advance the Family Literacy Lifestyle mission of Pageant Wagon Publishing.  Foundations of American Liberty and Independence: American Self-Government~Even a Child Understands This Here is one of my favorite passages from Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House books as she retells the moment, one 4th of July, when she understands what it means to be American, a Christian, and free: Well, I remember a very special 4th of July celebration where we went dressed in our Sunday best, to town and listened as our mayor read the Declaration of Independence which Mary and I knew by heart already. Suddenly, Pa started to sing and everyone joined in: My Country tis of thee Sweet land of liberty Of thee I sing Long may our land be bright With Freedom’s holy light Protect us by Thy might Great God our King! The crowd was scattering away then, but I stood stock still. Suddenly, I had a completely new thought. The Declaration and the song came together in my mind and I thought: God is America’s King. I thought: Americans won’t obey any king on earth. Americans are free. That means they have to obey their consciences. No king bosses Pa; he has to boss himself. Why, I thought, when I’m a little older, Pa and Ma will stop telling me what to do, and there isn’t anyone else who has a right to gibe me orders. I will have to make myself be good. My whole mind seemed to be lighted up by that thought. This is what it means to be free. It means you have to be good. Our father’s God, Author of Liberty, the Laws of Nature, and Nature’s God endow you with a right to life and liberty. Then you have to keep the laws of God, for God’s law is the only thing that gives you a right to be free. Little Town on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder Chapter 8, Fourth of July  Foundations of American Liberty and Independence: What Real Patriots Do Our fathers built a nation based upon the premise that the self governing Christians will produce the finest society. God bless them as they train their children in the ways of the Lord. Let divines and philosophers, statesmen and patriots unite their endeavors to renovate the age by impressing the minds of men with the importance of educating their little boys and girls and inculcating in the minds of youth the fear and love of the Diety, and universal philanthropy. And in subordination to these great principles, the love of their country, of instructing them in the art of self government of societies, great or small. In short, of leading them in the study and practice of the exalted virtues of the Christian system. Samuel Adams First Continental Congress Signer of the Declaration of Independence  Foundations of American Liberty and Independence: Why Real Patriots Do What They Do It is to the kindly influence of Christianity we owe that degree of civil freedom, and political and social happiness which mankind now enjoy. In proportion as the genuine effects of Christianity are diminished in any nation, either through unbelief, or the corruption of its doctrines, or the neglect of its institutions; in the same proportion will the people of that nation recede from the blessings of genuine freedom . . . whenever the pillars of Christianity shall be overthrown, our present republican forms of government, and all the blessings which flow from them, must fall with them. Dr. Jedediah Morse, Election Sermon, 1799 Foundations of American Liberty and Independence: How to Restore That Which Has Been Lost When We Don't Do What We Ought to Do to Preserve the Republic  History matters to your future and that of your children and grandchildren. For excellent primary source documents regarding America's Christian History broken down into principles to govern and teach all ages how to secure American freedoms in a literate and civilized society, visit the resources at the Foundation for American Christian Education.  Visit the Pageant Wagon Publishing Bookshop and pick up your copy of Principles of Our Fathers by Dr. Ronald L. Bernier. Learn how to restore our foundations to the generations. Did you enjoy this post? How has it blessed your day today?
Please COMMENT, LIKE and SHARE it in your Social Media Network to help advance the Family Literacy Lifestyle mission of Pageant Wagon Publishing. Read along below or just click below and listen to the fascinating story of Betsy Ross and the part she played in American Independence in the spring of 1776. Download a FREE PRINTABLE to make the famous Betsy Ross 5-Pointed Star! Running time is anywhere from 15 minutes to a half hour. Brew some tea and stop--for a story. Note: I'll be reposting about two years worth of monthly podcast episodes I recorded under the title, The Writer's Reverie Podcast. They may not show up in order here on the new blog platform, but you will eventually find them easily under the menu tab AUDIO STORYTIME. I hope you'll enjoy this library of inspirational stories, history lessons, literary chats, and devotionals for the whole family.   The bell in the Christ Church tower called the colonists to worship through the crisp winter air in early January. John and Betsy Ross slid into their pew across the aisle from General Washington’s empty box with a reverent nod in its direction. News of his battle in Boston on New Year’s Day had reached Philadelphia. The year 1776, ushered in with canon and musket fire, promised more of the same to come. Escalating tensions with England produced challenges on all fronts for American colonists and the Ross’ were no exception. The couple, married barely four years, enjoyed precious little time together as husband and wife with the rumblings of war and independence troubling their bliss. In fact, to make ends meet, John was forced to join the Pennsylvania militia once their upholstery shop felt the financial impact of scarce materials and job competition because of the war. But, on the Lord’s Day hope supplants fear. Civilians, officers, and enlisted gather as one family to worship He who commands Heaven’s armies. Class distinctions dissipate when saints gather to pray. In the throes of revolutionary unrest, petitions of both the high-born and the low-born rage fervent. Every word from every lip avails much. Christ Church, centered on the street a block from the Ross’ home in one direction and the government meeting house in the other, filled to overflow when members of the Continental Congress gathered to govern in Philadelphia. On Sunday morning, statesmen sought the Lord’s wisdom for the historic decisions they had the responsibility to make. Betsy glanced about the congregation recognizing many distinguished men destined for immortalization in history books. She breathed a silent prayer on their behalf. They carried a great burden. With a loving squeeze of John’s hand, she met his eyes, betraying in her weak smile a sense of pride mingled with fear, then turned her attention to the hymn book. Patriots, citizens, soldiers, and seamstresses raised their voices as one in praise and petition to the strains of Amazing Grace. John and Betsy never shared a pew or sang in worship together again. Within a fortnight that January, while Congress argued secession from the tyrannical government over-reach of the English king, John Ross became an early casualty of a war yet to be formally declared. Suffering mortal wounds in an ammunitions storehouse explosion, Betsy’s hopes for a happily-ever-after life with him, shattered to pieces. A widow at age 24, she remained to navigate a tenuous future alone, taking any and all work related to needle and thread. Battle losses prior to an actual declaration of war increased throughout the colonies—especially in the New England states. Representative John Adams of the Massachusetts colony was a fire-brand advocate for independence, making quite a name for himself in the congressional debates. New England saw more than its share of confrontations, becoming a particular hot-bed of dissention due to the influx of taxes required, and freedoms stripped, from the colonists there. Redcoat armies took violent stands to quell the masses. The scene played out with more regularity, spreading like a plague throughout the colonies. On New Year’s Day in 1776, during the Siege of Boston, George Washington became acutely aware of the need to fly a new flag for the colonist’s cause in the skirmish. Whether Congress agreed that they were at war or not, the fact remained—battle lines were drawn. In the turmoil, the colonial rebels needed a rallying symbol under which to fight. The colonists, seeking to live peaceable lives under an oppressive rule, spiraled toward a historic moment from which there would be no turning back. The crisis of birth to bring forth new life is not simply the domain of women. Nations are birthed through crisis, too. And in just such a critical moment of history, a widowed young woman would soon make a lasting mark in the birth of a nation through divine providential circumstances. In February, General Washington arrived in Philadelphia to discuss the need for the colonies' standard under which to muster the troops. A number of flags existed, raised by colonists as part of the campaign towards revolution. For instance, the popular image of a rattlesnake captioned with the challenging tag line “Don’t Tread on Me” effectively stirred crowds to the purpose. But, emotionally charged mantras and imagery seemed hardly appropriate for a united battlefield banner. A new flag must be designed to distinctly represent all thirteen colonies banded together for independence. This would set the colonists apart from the British Union Jack in battle, and become a new nation’s patriotic emblem. To the purpose, the Continental Congress designated a Secret Flag Committee made up of General Washington; Robert Morris, the wealthiest man in the colonies; and George Ross, John and Betsy’s uncle. By spring, they drafted an idea for the colors and design—red, white, and blue, in stars and stripes. “But, who can fashion such a thing?” Washington asked. It had been a couple of months since George Ross lost his nephew in the explosion. He knew Betsy’s skill and her need for work. He also knew her to be a patriot. “I think my niece, Betsy Ross, at the upholstery shop across from Christ Church may be of use there.” he suggested. “You’ve had her mend and fashion some of your shirts, General.” Washington nodded. He knew the quality of her work, and from Sunday worship was aware she had recently lost her husband to the cause. The committee agreed. Washington, Morris, and George Ross would pay a visit to Betsy Ross. Their errand involved some risk should news of their plan fall into British hands. They chanced arrest for treason, putting Betsy in harm’s way, and had every reason to be concerned for secrecy and stealth in meeting. “The good mistress has lost her husband of late,” said Morris. “Perhaps we raise the subject of the flag on the pretext of a condolence visit from her uncle and his two friends. In daylight. To avoid suspicion.” Loyalists to the crown were prevalent in Philadelphia. Spies might be the harmless neighbor next door. John Ross’ tragic death appeared as an advantage now, shielding a military meeting behind the veil of a social sympathy call. On an early spring day in May, Betsy sat in her front room mending petticoats when she heard a gentle rap on the door. She slid her needle into the fabric to keep her place and set the sewing aside to see who may have come to call. “Uncle George!” she smiled with delight with a reverent curtsy. “How kind of you to visit.” The last time Uncle George came to her door was shortly after the news of her husband’s death. She weakened for a moment, remembering the few days she tried to nurse John through his wounds to no avail. Uncle George had always been charitable to her. She spoke with him last when they laid John to rest in the Christ Church cemetery. Blinking the sun from her eyes, she strained to see the two men standing behind him. A cloud drifted into place to cover the mid-day glare, allowing her to focus on the familiar faces of General Washington and Mr. Morris, men of note and accomplishment. Something told her this was not a mere social call with her uncle. A business call, perhaps? Swiftly, she ushered them into her home. Light pleasantries exchanged between the lady and her visitors, with formal greetings and condolences paid as planned. Betsy shrank in the presence of the three dignitaries. They brought no parcel of clothes for mending. What could their mission be? To simply offer condolences? Surely not. Was the General in the habit of such a thing with so many militia families having experienced similar losses in Philadelphia? Furtive glances passed between the men before the General nodded. “We shall get straight to the business, Mrs. Ross.” He spoke with a soft, yet commanding voice, motioning her to sit. She did so. “You see, Betsy, dear,” started Uncle George, “We have need of your services. Your needle and thread.” Betsy relaxed. “Oh. I see. You have some uniforms, perhaps, that need mending? General Washington, more ruffles for your shirts?” “Not quite uniforms. And, no—no ruffles this time.” General Washington drew a small sheet of paper from his inner overcoat pocket and unfolded it on the table next to Betsy. “A flag, Mrs. Ross. A battle flag.” Betsy picked up the paper and studied the hastily drawn sketch of a flag design. “Do you think you can make a flag such as this within a fortnight or so?” Washington asked. “Certainly. By the end of the month. Early June at the latest. But . . .” her voice trailed as she pursed her lips with indecision. Betsy was an obliging woman and did not want to appear critical of anything designed and agreed upon by such an august committee as those standing before her. “You will be paid for the job, of course, Mrs. Ross.” Morris said. “Oh. Forgive me. No.” Betsy said. “My hesitation is not economy of money, sir, but . . . ” “Yes? Speak freely, mistress.” Washington’s voice gently invited her opinion. A rush of confidence welled within her. After all, she was the only experienced seamstress and designer in the room. They sought her out for those very skills. She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin to face the towering presence before her, and spoke with measured authority. “I hesitate because, I wonder why you have chosen a six-pointed star for the design rather than a five-pointed star.” The men looked at each other, cut to the quick by her unexpected response. “Is that all?” Uncle George said with a good-humored chuckle in his voice. “Five or six points. Does it matter?” Washington grinned. “Is not a six-pointed star easier to fashion with equal sides than one with five?” Betsy lowered her gaze with a smile. “Well, if you’ll allow me to demonstrate, sir.” She rose from her chair, crossing to a long table in the room strewn with fabric swatches and sewing notions—the tools of her trade at the ready. Taking a squared white muslin in hand, she folded it oddly. Once, then twice, then again, and again. Holding fast the bundled fabric, she clipped one end of it with her shears, allowing the material to drop to the table, unfurling from their folds. She picked up one of the pieces and presented it for inspection. A perfectly cut five-pointed star. CLICK TO DOWNLOAD A FREE PRINTABLE TO MAKE BETSY'S 5-POINTED STAR! “Astonishing!” Washington shook his head in disbelief. “My lady, I applaud you.” For the first time since John’s loss, and for the briefest of moments, peace and well-being washed over Betsy’s heart. To astonish such a man as the General himself was high praise indeed. And in her own home. “Done. Five-pointed white stars it shall be, on a field of blue—thirteen all; against thirteen alternating red and white stripes.” Washington nodded approval. The committee agreed. Discussion followed to determine the exact proportions and measurements of the flag, materials to be used, date of delivery, and payment. They instructed Betsy to cut and sew it by hand in the privacy of her own bedchamber to protect herself and the decisive step the creation of a battle flag meant to the revolutionary cause. The gentlemen stayed only as long as necessary, then made a polite exit reiterating their condolences again as they stepped outside where they might be seen and heard. Closing the door behind them, Betsy realized with a jolt, the implications of what she agreed to do. She felt an active partner with John’s patriotic decision to join the militia, taking a practical stand for what he believed to be true and just. Though schooled in the use of a firearm, her weapon as a patriot would be needle and thread—and years of providential preparation in her trade to fulfill the purpose set before her. John would be proud. Thinking on this brought him nearer to her. A tear welled in the corner of her eye at the fleeting recollection. But, in the wake of the excitement of the moment, she needed tea to quench the nervous jitters sweeping over her. Barely settling in her chair again with a steaming cup and saucer in hand, fresh from steeping in the teapot, she heard another rap at the door. This time, it was a condolence visit, in truth. Mr. Samuel Wetherill, an old family friend, brought mending and his kind regards in her recent loss. She poured him a cup of tea, inviting him to sit in the comfortable “best” chair she reserved for guests. “My dear, are you unwell,” he said with a furrowed brow of concern. “You appear flushed and not quite yourself.” He clearly noticed her trembling still, so soon after the flag committee’s visit. “I am well.” She softly spoke and sipped her tea. An awkward silence followed. Mr. Wetherill attempted to put her at ease with conversation. “I daresay, I saw General Washington in the street a bit ago. With your uncle and the good Mr. Morris. I expect we’ll see the General at services this week. When did you last speak with your uncle?” “My uncle?” Betsy clinked her cup to her saucer. Fearing she might jostle the tea to spill, she carefully laid it on the table, folding her hands on her lap with an affected smile. “I just spoke with him, in fact. He is well. Very well, indeed.” Mr. Wetherill and his family had known Betsy since her youth, the eighth child of seventeen, baptized Elizabeth Griscom. He’d always been like an uncle to her, himself—even when her pacifist Quaker family cut her off after she eloped with John, an Episcopalian. Mr. Wetherill’s family demonstrated Christ’s love and concern for her through that tumultuous season, welcoming the new Mr. and Mrs. Ross into the Episcopal Christ Church house of worship. He was a proved friend and no loyalist. Indeed, his sympathies for independence were profound. And, it appeared he discerned something hidden behind the surface of her vexed countenance. “Is he. Well you say.” Wetherill said with a knowing smirk. Betsy sighed. She knew she could not maintain her composure for much longer. Clearly, Mr. Wetherill suspected something amiss. “Oh. I don’t expect I should ever be a very convincing liar.” She paused before leaning forward with widened eyes to reveal her news. “The truth is, Uncle George was just here within the hour with General Washington and Mr. Morris whom you saw in the street.” Mr. Wetherill nodded. “Excellent! I hope they brought you good custom. Washington and his ruffles and Morris the same. New shirts ordered up, I suppose?” “No,” said Betsy, shaking her head in disbelief as though coming at once to grasp the gravity of what transpired. She determined to bring Mr. Wetherill into her confidence. “I have been commissioned by the General to create a battle flag for the colonies. In secret, of course.” Saying it aloud for the first time caused her to tremble again. “Oh, Mr. Wetherill. What is to become of us in these troubled days? I am commissioned to create a flag that, should the colonies prevail—which seems impossible against the odds and could only be attained at a great cost in lives—it would become the standard of a new nation.” All light-heartedness in Wetherill’s manner disappeared. He leaned forward and touched her hand, gazing severely into her face. “My dear. You are an Esther, commissioned by One higher than Washington for such a time as this. The God of the impossible calls nations into being and unseats them at His will and for His purposes. History has been wrought in your front room this day. It is His Story! Play your part with confidence and allow God to use it as He will.” Waves of peace and purpose flooded Betsy’s heart. She burst into a joyful laugh laced with teary eyes for the swell of emotion. A childlike giddiness deposed the gravity of the moment. She sprang from the chair and crossed the room to the table where the pieces to the star she had cut lay. “I even convinced the General that a five-pointed star was superior to a six-pointed star for its ease in making. I do it with a few folds and a snip of my shears. See here? He was astonished.” She handed the two pieces of cut fabric to Wetherill. “I didn’t want to second guess General Washington, but truly—if I were to commit to making a flag with stars, I would rather the simplicity of five-pointed stars rather than six.” Betsy laughed. “Well, I’m astonished,” said Wetherill, fingering the five pointed star. “May I ask you—what did you plan to do with this star?” The question perplexed her. “That star? Well, nothing. It was just a demonstration. I may be able to make use of the pieces in a quilt or patching, perhaps.” Wetherill stood. “May I be permitted to keep it?” “Keep it?” Betsy looked at him with surprise. “Well . . . certainly. If you must. But, why?” “For posterity, my girl.” Wetherill’s response—swift, almost mysterious—chilled her. He lowered his voice with a grave foreboding. “The day may come when we shall need tangible reminders of turning point moments in our national independence story.” Betsy held his gaze for a moment then looked wistfully away. “Well, it is just a flag, Mr. Wetherill. And, I haven’t even made it yet.” Wetherill spoke, as if prophetically, “My dear Mrs. Ross, I believe what you haven’t even made yet has a destiny beyond our reckoning, at so early a juncture in this story.” Betsy Ross, indeed, delivered the General’s flag as agreed one month before the Congress voted for independence on July 4, 1776. Printed dispatches of the formal Declaration of Independence circulated throughout the colonies calling patriots to arms. As a nation at war, one year later, on June 14, 1777, the Continental Congress formally adopted the national flag to promote unity and national pride: “Resolved: That the flag of the United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new constellation.” Betsy remained busy throughout the war, sewing more flags for the revolution in the secrecy of her bedchamber. She married twice during the war—tragically losing both husbands in battle. Perhaps, as she sewed, she prayed and wondered about the husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons whose blood would spill under that banner for the cause of liberty and justice. Within a year she was forced to share her home with British soldiers who took up rooms for rent when they occupied Philadelphia. Growing strong through a season of storm-clouds and loss, she bravely served the revolution making musket bullets in a secret cellar room to aid the constant need for ammunition—right under Redcoat noses. After the war she married, for the fourth time, a man named John Claypole. He was a friend of her first love, John Ross. It was John Claypole who had run to her home with news of the ammunition explosion on the fateful day she lost her first husband. They raised five daughters and maintained a thriving upholstery and flag making business until her retirement in 1827 at the age of 75. She lived a quiet, devout Christian life until her death in 1836 at the age of 84. Through the years she often spoke of the day General Washington came to call with the commission to create the first American flag of the United States. Her firsthand account of the event passed down through her family as part of their oral history. In 1870, Betsy’s grandson, William J. Canby, encouraged efforts to purchase Betsy Ross’ house and designate it a historical landmark as the American Flag House and Betsy Ross Memorial. A campaign launched to open it to the public through monies raised by an Association. Anyone could contribute and receive an elite document suitable for framing at a cost of only ten cents. The document included a full color picture of the celebrated moment in history painted by association founder, Charles H. Weisberger. It is the same painting used in 1952 to mark Betsy’s 200th birthday with an official US Postage stamp. The house has been a living history museum open to the public since 1937. But, the most amazing part of Betsy’s story happened in 1925 when the descendants of Samuel Wetherill opened the family safe to discover the star he had taken from Betsy’s house within hours of her visit with Washington on that May day in 1776. He marked it with her name and did, indeed, seal it away for posterity. It remains a tangible slice of American history on display at Quaker Meeting House Museum located a block from the Betsy Ross House Museum in historic Philadelphia. To learn more about Betsy Ross and the Betsy Ross House Museum, visit http://historicphiladelphia.org/betsy-ross-house/history/ Did you enjoy this post? How has it blessed your day today?
Please COMMENT, LIKE and SHARE it in your Social Media Network to help advance the Family Literacy Lifestyle mission of Pageant Wagon Publishing. Got challenges? Don't we all. Life is filled with obstacles on the pathway to realizing our goals and purposes. How do you conquer them? Well, for a quick fix, I look for something in my power wardrobe. When I wear clothes that fit well and look great on me, I feel empowered and confident. Power clothes shield me from people seeing me in my unvarnished weakness. Like, the crippling insecurity that often comes from . . . well . . . for instance—heading to a writer’s conference to mingle with peer professionals. I spend a lot of time preparing for writers’ conferences. They keep me focused on my writing goals, providing a deadline for completing projects. I look forward to networking with other writers. Mentoring and being mentored. Growing in my skill sets. Crossing thresholds of new publishing opportunities that might present for me. All this anticipation fuels my writing fires—until about two weeks before the conference. Then, though I may have my files, proposals, and conference plan in order, a mountain range of doubt looms before me. These obstacles in my path lead me to question everything I’ve just spent weeks preparing. “Who do you think you are, a REAL writer or something?” “You always confuse your tenses and use too many commas— what a joke.” “You have nothing original to say because it’s already been said.” “You can’t run with the big dogs at writers’ conferences—you need to stay on the porch.” Confidence shrinks back. Uncertainty rises-up. A mole-hill becomes a mountain of fear and doubt. That’s where the power wardrobe comes in. I put my confidence game face on. A mask, in fact. I set my face, like flint, to power through the stones, rocks, and boulders that cause me to stumble in weakness on my way. No one will know I shake in my boots behind my mask of confidence, facing the challenges before me. I look sensational in this outfit with a nifty floral pattern! My computer and files are packed. My power wardrobe is carefully chosen to fit, masking my inner turmoil. But, all is vanity because . . . My mask is removed at the end of the day. Sometimes it falls off in the heat of the fray. That's not such a bad thing; it leads me to pray, And Jesus responds, "There's a better way."  When I seek to walk in my purpose and calling as a writer, I struggle with confidence going forth. No amount of sensational looking power clothes will overcome the root of my insecurities. The mistake I make is wearing a wardrobe like a mask to just get by. Masking your confident-to-the-calling shortcomings will not do. There’s nothing wrong with selecting a great looking wardrobe for a writers’ conference. We should present our best selves in outward appearance. Yes—do look sensational. It’s not about externals. You’ll go all the way to genuine confidence, rather than the mere façade of it, if you give quality attention to packing your internal wardrobe—the closet of your heart. That’s where true confidence roots, producing fruitful and fragrant blossoms that attract and influence. No nifty floral patterns are necessary. Clothing yourself in the head-to-toe skin-sufficiency of Christ is the bedrock power of true confidence to the task, whatever that is. Be it writers’ conferences or just waking up in the morning, put Christ on in the spirit, before worrying what clothes you’re going to pull out of the closet. And all who have been united with Christ in baptism have put on Christ, like putting on new clothes. Galatians 3:27 NLT And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:9 NKJV As a writer, no matter the challenges before you, God calls you to take each one in His wisdom and strength. The crossing of thresholds involve risk—like arriving at a writers’ conference and passing through the doors to the registration desk. Or sitting across the table from the editor or agent you hope to impress. Slip into the skin-sufficiency of Christ when crossing the thresholds of your life and divine calling. The point where risk meets Confidence. Prayer Journal: Thank you, Lord, that my calling in You is sufficient to the task and the compass to my purpose. You have promised to complete the work You have begun in me. I shall go forth in joy. You will lead me in peace. The mountains and hills of obstacles will break forth before me and be turned to praise by Your hand. I will shout with joy as I know you are cheering me on to accomplish all You have called me to do. Philippians 1:6, Isaiah 55:12 This post was originaly published in September, 2017 at Pageant Wagon Publishing and Almost An Author. Did you enjoy this post? How has it blessed your day today?
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Kathryn RossWriter-speaker-dramatist, Kathryn Ross, inspires Christians to develop a Family Literacy Lifestyle producing readers, writers, and thinkers who can engage the world from a biblical worldview. Join me in creative, informative literary reflection and instruction about all things books, publishing, the power of story, and the glory of God to transform lives through His Story. ArchivesCategories |
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