Howdy and Happy Monday (well, Wednesay now!) I will be in the beautiful city of Morelia in Mexico all next week, so maybe it’s a good thing that I am not getting this out until the middle of the week. Wow, has it been hot here. It’s made me think about how I learned to swim.
Back in Arkansas, we didn’t have air conditioning and there wasn’t even a community swimming pool until I was a young teen. We tolerated the heat as best we could but one of the luxuries was to pile into the back of a pickup and head for the swimming hole. I remember those dusty rides. I would be scared to death, hoping and dreading, that dad would throw me into the water as he threatened, thinking that must be the only way I would figure out how to dog paddle. I don’t know if I was more afraid of going under water and not coming back up or of my toes touching the slimy bottom of the creek. The memory is as clear as the chill of that first splash of water. I would like to share a poem by James Whitcomb Riley for this Wednesday.
The Old Swimmin’ Hole
OH! the old swimmin’-hole! whare the crick so still and deep
And the gurgle of the worter round the drift jest below
Sounded like the laugh of something we onc’t ust to know
Before we could remember anything but the eyes
Of the angels lookin’ out as we left Paradise;
But the merry days of youth is beyond our controle,
And it’s hard to part ferever with the old swimmin’-hole.
Oh! the old swimmin’-hole! In the happy days of yore,
When I ust to lean above it on the old sickamore,
Oh! it showed me a face in its warm sunny tide
That gazed back at me so gay and glorified,
It made me love myself, as I leaped to caress
My shadder smilin’ up at me with sich tenderness.
But them days is past and gone, and old Time’s tuck his toll
From the old man come back to the old swimmin’-hole.
Oh! the old swimmin’-hole! In the long, lazy days
When the humdrum of school made so many run-a-ways,
How plesant was the jurney down the old dusty lane,
Whare the tracks of our bare feet was all printed so plane
You could tell by the dent of the heel and the sole
They was lots o’ fun on hands at the old swimmin’-hole.
But the lost joys is past! Let your tears in sorrow roll
Like the rain that ust to dapple up the old swimmin’-hole.
Thare the bullrushes growed, and the cattails so tall,
And the sunshine and shadder fell over it all;
And it mottled the worter with amber and gold
Tel the glad lilies rocked in the ripples that rolled;
And the snake-feeder’s four gauzy wings fluttered by
Like the ghost of a daisy dropped out of the sky,
Or a wownded apple-blossom in the breeze’s controle
As it cut acrost some orchard to’rds the old swimmin’-hole.
Oh! the old swimmin’-hole! When I last saw the place,
The scenes was all changed, like the change in my face;
The bridge of the railroad now crosses the spot
Whare the old divin’-log lays sunk and fergot.
And I stray down the banks whare the trees ust to be–
But never again will theyr shade shelter me!
And I wish in my sorrow I could strip to the soul,
And dive off in my grave like the old swimmin’-hole.
The Bible verse for today is: John 3:5
Jesus answered, “I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit.
