October 2004 The Megaphone Page 8
by Cindy (Benedict) Odom
Dad came to our house to visit just after Mother passed away in September of 1999. How he missed her. He and I, as he did with his other four daughters, would sit and talk about things Mother enjoyed . . . music, stories, flowers, and I can’t forget, hummingbirds. She dearly loved hummingbirds.
While Dad was still visiting, my son and I went out to the garden early one evening . . . I wanted to see the sunflowers. While we were there, I had something fly around me. It was so very fast; I wasn’t sure what it was. My son then said, "Mom, it’s a hummingbird." And sure enough, there it was right in front of my face. I could clearly see this tiny beautiful bird. When I went back inside, I told Dad about this. He smiled, winked at me and said, "He thought you were the most beautiful flower in the garden." What a wonderful person he was to think of something so sweet to say.
Not long after we had taken Dad home, Steve was doing some outside work and he always leaves the garage door open since he inevitably has to come back for something he (has forgotten) needs. He hadn’t been outside very long when he darted inside and said, "You won’t believe this, but a hummingbird has followed me in and out of the garage three times. And at one point, I could have shut the garage door and kept it in there, since it acted like it was waiting on me to go back out before it did."
From the time we had our experiences with hummingbirds in September of 1999,
each September since, we add another story to our chronicles. Even when our
grandchildren are here, a hummer or two visits them closely. I don’t know if
by this time the tiny little birds are so used to seeing us, or perchance they
know they are getting ready to leave and will miss us, but I’d really like to
believe that we have someone special watching over us, and simply wants us to
know this.
Cindy (Benedict) Odom '69
When
Fall Is In The Air
When fall is in the air,
Color dances in the trees.
Swaying with delight,
In a cooler breeze.
Every single leaf replaced,
With orange, yellow, red, and gold.
And all too soon the colors drop,
Designed for the ground to hold.
The air is filled with glorious scents,
Of burning leaves and such.
The aroma of tomatoes cooking,
I like that one very much.
The nights seem so much more composed,
Unruffled and serene.
Not as busy or as full of life,
As it once did seem.
When fall is in the air,
And winter is truly near,
All of nature does prepare,
Knowing spring will soon be here.
And once again,
Colors will unfold,
Orange, yellow, red, and gold.
Flowing like ribbons oh so bold,
All through out the land.
Written and submitted by . . .
Cindy (Benedict) Odom '69
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