Jotting Joan

Wow! That’s all I could say Jan. 18 when Wikipedia went black to protest proposed, anti-piracy legislation in the federal government. At midnight, Wikipedia switched off ready access to nearly 4 million web pages and gave searchers a dignified explanation in shades of dark gray.
Wow! It really happened. The world’s fifth most popular website pulled the shades on Jan. 18 and provided information on just one topic: anti-piracy bills before the United States Congress: The Stop Online Piracy Act  (SOPA) in the House and Protect IP Act (PIPA) in the Senate. The proposed legislation focuses on the monitoring of every electronic link from any website that might take a reader to another website in the world where they might be able to purchase pirated, intellectual properties.
And Wikipedia did not protest alone. According to Wikipedia’s report of the day, 115,000 other websites and tens of millions of individuals around the world protested the proposed laws.
Wow! That many. I had no idea.
The idea for the blackout began back in December as legislators studied the bills, held hearings and appeared to be aiming to get a quick and early vote on the bill. Seeing a major threat in the proposed bill, Wikipedia management, and others, began discussing the blackout.
On Jan. 18, as websites around the country went black, most offered links for visitors to register their protest with their federal legislators.
And wow, did people protest! More than 8 million people looked up their representative on Wikipedia, a petition at Google recorded over 4.5 million signatures, more than 1 million email messages were sent to Congress through the Electronic Frontier Foundation, for several hours Twitter received over a quarter million tweets per hour concerning SOPA, lawmakers collected “more than 14 million names – more than 10 million of them voters,” according to Wikipedia’s most current entry about the day.
With so many “participating in the protest against SOPA and PIPA, 15 U.S. Senators (including sponsors) have dropped support for the proposed SOPA and PIPA acts. Real notice was taken when Wikipedia, Reddit, Newsboiler, BoingBoing, WordPress, Mozilla and other sites suddenly went offline as part of the overall plan of protest. Many people, including college students, were forced to find out more about the proposed acts after their essential services went all black,” reported the Internet website whatshawt.com
Let no one assume that a one day of protest will suffice. Internet watchdogs continue to follow this issue. Google, Craigslist, Wikipedia and hundreds of other Internet providers continue to study and pass along information, news and updates about the anti-piracy laws. They speak for everyone who has come to depend on the Internet such as the 25 million people who view information on Wikipedia every day … except Jan. 18, when the blackout left bewildered students and teachers wondering how they could do their homework without the online encyclopedia. How could instructors teach without this valuable, free resource supported by donations? How could anyone research a topic without the Internet?
Wow! How quickly we have become dependent on the Internet for communication, entertainment, information and digital storage.
Less than 15 years ago, Wikipedia did not even exist. Students still roamed through library shelves with note cards, paper, pencils and pens to research a topic. Twenty years ago, few had heard of e-mail – although the U.S. Post Office realized and addressed its potential financial threat as early as 1977. Thirty years ago, very few individuals could even afford the luxury of personal computers. Today young children carry cell phones with Internet connections.
The Jan. 18 blackout was a shot heard around the world as individuals, corporations and governments took a stark look at the extent of their dependence on the Internet and its ability to generate a massive public response.
Well entrenched in the age of the Internet, the impact the one-day blackout still left me repeatedly gasping “Wow!”

(The awed Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times. Joanh@everybody.org)

Researching and writing this week’s column took me time and again to the fifth most popular website, Wikipedia, the free online encyclopedia which started in 2001 with 3,848,878 articles in English. Wikipedia attracts 25 million visitors daily, according to ComScore.
“Wikipedia is written collaboratively by largely anonymous Internet volunteers who write without pay. Anyone with Internet access can write and make changes to Wikipedia articles (except in certain cases where editing is restricted to prevent disruption or vandalism),” explains the Wikipedia web page. To date, more than 82,000 volunteers have written for Wikipedia. Every day, hundreds of thousands of visitors from around the world collectively make tens of thousands of edits and create thousands of new articles for the Wikipedia encyclopedia.
And yet today, if I want to do any research using Wikipedia – that will be impossible. At midnight, eastern time, Wikipedia drew its shades for 24 hours as an electronic protest against anti-piracy bills before the United States Congress: the Stop Online Piracy Act  (SOPA) in the House and Protect IP Act (PIPA) in the Senate.
“It is the opinion of the English Wikipedia community that both of these bills, if passed, would be devastating to the free and open web,” wrote Sue Gardner, Wikimedia Foundation executive director, on the wikimediafoundation.org site.
Normally, like most folks just logging into the Internet or checking information on Wikipedia, I might not have known about the blackout until I tried to use it.
However, my son, Mark Hershberger, who works for Wikimedia searching and fixing glitches in their many free online resources, sent out a Facebook message alerting his friends and followers about the blackout.
Wikimedia made the decision over the weekend and Monday, although it was a holiday, the support staff volunteered to work to institute the temporary shutdown.
According to Mark, “By going dark, the editors of Wikipedia (not the foundation of Wikimedia) will demonstrate the impact of stepping into regulating the Internet. The many editors of Wikipedia will voice their concern for net neutrality with 24 hours of blocking accessibility to Wikipedia.”
“Oh, and just to clarify: it isn’t the Foundation that is doing the blackout. This was decided by the editors (people other sites call ‘active users’) of English Wikipedia. We’re helping them accomplish their goals, but much of the infrastructure is already in place so that they can achieve their goals.”
Piracy of music and movies is a major issue. However, the current legal solutions being considered have generated protests of more than 700,000 tweets and a million emails – enough that the San Diego City Beat reported there may no longer be the legislative will in the House to pass it, according to Rep. Darrell Issa, one of the bill’s most vocal opponents.
For today, though, Wikipedia and “an estimated 7,000 websites are planning to go dark Wednesday as part of a mass protest against a pair of controversial anti-piracy bills — and opponents of the measures say the number is likely to increase,” reported politico.com.
Mozilla will join the virtual protest.
Reddit will also hold a 12-hour blackout.
The popular Google, Facebook, Twitter and Tumblr sites chose other means such as Google’s link explaining how these bills “are smart, targeted ways to shut down foreign rogue websites without asking American companies to censor the Internet.”
The Wikipedia blackout and protest were not entered into lightly.
“Over 1,800 Wikipedians have joined together to discuss proposed actions that the community might wish to take against SOPA and PIPA. This is by far the largest level of participation in a community discussion ever seen on Wikipedia, which illustrates the level of concern that Wikipedians feel about this proposed legislation,” Gardner wrote.
Gardner did not make the decision, the volunteer editors made it, “but I support it,” she wrote. “We want the Internet to remain free and open, everywhere, for everyone. We hope you’ll agree with us, and will do what you can to make your own voice heard.”

(Just doing her part, Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times.)

Birthdays provide convenient markers of progress and changes in life. A few reflections on the eve of leaving middle age.
At 10, kindly adults would enter conversations with me by asking, “What are you going to be when you grow up?”
At 60, folks wonder, “When are you going to retire?”
At 16, my parents had to ride with me when I drove.
At 60, my family offers to drive for me.
At 20, I wanted to have a dozen kids.
At 30, I had half that and said enough.
At 60, I am happy to have more than that many grandchildren.
At 10, my grandparents were so old.
At 60, my middle-aged sons are so young.
At 20, I really liked our fixer-upper first house.
At 60, just looking at a fixer-upper leaves me shuddering.
Before I turned 10, I proudly anticipated the decade.
Before I turned 60, I dreaded the decade and reminded myself frequently of its advent.
At 20, friends wondered how many children my husband and I wanted to have.
At 30, they wondered when we would quit having children.
At 50, they were surprised that I had grandchildren!
At 60, they are astounded that we have so many grandchildren.
At 20, I dropped out of college to marry.
At 30, I wanted to return to college to finish my degree.
At 60, I rarely use any of the skills or classroom information I studied for my degree.
At 50, I was insulted to receive an invitation to join the AARP.
At 60, I ask if I qualify for the senior discount.
At 30, I quickly lost 20 pounds after the baby’s birth.
At 60, the 20 pounds – and more  – have returned time and again.
At 20, I sat and listened politely when older folks talked.
At 60, I work hard to sit and listen politely when younger folks talk.
At 20, I blithely promised my husband for better or for worse, for sickness and in health.
At 60, I remember the effort it took some days, even some years, to keep that promise.
At 20, I figured I was more than ready for marriage and a family.
At 60, I realize how little I knew then and how much I have yet to learn.
At 20, I had no clue just how much money it took to feed a family, keep them healthy and in a warm house with clean clothes.
At 30, I knew how to can fruits and vegetables, how to sew a three-piece suit and how to stretch a dollar 10 different ways.
At 40, I suffered sticker shock at the price of college for my children.
At 50, I looked in astonishment at the ways God provided for college.
At 60, I thank the Lord we can still afford to travel to visit our far-flung family.
At 30, I smugly said “I don’t need glasses.”
At 40, I admitted readers made it easier.
At 50, I began yearly visits to the eye doctor.
At 60, I reach for my bifocals and wear them every day.
At 10, I figured I would live forever.
At 20, I saw my grandparents’ health fail.
At 30, my parents became the oldest living generation.
At 40, my mother passed.
At 50, my family began arranging a home for my father.
At 60, my husband and I talked about final arrangements.
At 10, I asked my grandmother to teach me how to knit.
At 60, I ask my granddaughters if they want me to teach them how to knit.
At 16, I moved across the country and wrote dozens of letters every month to keep in touch.
By 60, my children had moved across the country and keep in touch with Facebook, email or Twitter – and rarely send me a letter.
At 10, I proudly celebrated when I blew out all the candles.
At 60, I wonder who has that much breath?

(The aging Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times.)

At the time “Octo-Mom,” a single woman, announced her artificially-induced pregnancy of eight children, she said she did it because she “needed to have children.” Reflecting on that statement, my son Mark commented, “I would counsel any woman who thinks she doesn’t ‘need’ a man but she ‘needs’ to have children, to think, instead, of her children’s needs before she gets pregnant.”
“Children deserve a resident father. Here in America, men and women feel the right to pursue their desire to have children, without intending to have any sort of relationship with the child’s other parent.” He wrote to express his opinion that “anyone, man or women, who sets out to have children by themselves, intentionally depriving them from the start of their other parent, is wrong. Going into parenting intending to shortchange your children by eliminating one parent is not in their best interest and is an avoidable decision.”
I responded with an observation that men and women approach life differently and each gender offers children another perspective on just about everything.
Then, as I sorted through an accumulation of papers, I came across this piece my son Merton wrote one year for Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.
“I learned how to make money from my dad;
I learned how to save money from my mom;
and as a family we share the treasures we have with each other.
I learned how to work hard from my dad;
I learned how to take it easy from my mom;
and as a family we love life: In the easy and the hard times.
I learned how to trust God from my dad;
I learned how to pray to God from my mom;
and as a family we watched the Lord hear us as we called on His name.
I learned that God created the world for us to study and enjoy from my dad;
I learned that God revealed the Bible for us to study and enjoy from my mom;
And as a family we watched the seasons change and we memorized Scripture after Scripture.
I learned be faithful from my dad;
I learned to grateful from my mom;
and as a family we worshipped in the Lord’s House.
I learned that discipline means you are loved from my dad;
I learned that generosity is how you love from my mom;
and as a family we inherit the blessings of our Father.
I learned to see that God is good from my dad;
I learned to taste His goodness from my mom;
and as a family we feasted at the Lord’s table.
I saw the footsteps of Jesus in my dad’s life;
I saw the handprint of the Lord in my mother’s;
and the Holy Spirit led us forward as a family.
I studied the growing humility of the Lord in our dad’s way of life;
I observed the steady honor of the Lord in our mom’s way of life;
and as a family we hosted the Lord in our homes when the poor, the confused, the rejected and those of us kids who tended to stray were given shelter.”
That pretty well summarizes our past 40 years as a couple and family. Neither my husband nor I will say it has been easy. We each have our own personal way of approaching family life, but somewhere between his ways and my ways, we worked our way for four decades.
Happy Anniversary, Joseph.

Yeah, yeah, the kids hated it, but I loved my rule when we had perfectly healthy, minor children around the house: “First you work, then you play makes my life easier any day.”
I’d like to say I initiated the rule, but in all reality I lived under the same mandate as a child.
First, I had to do my work, then I could go play. I never thought too much about it until my sixth-grade teacher gave us an assignment to write a friendly letter. I wrote one to my cousin. The letter included the sentence, “After we finish doing the dishes, we can go out and play in the woods” or something like that.
The teacher read it out loud to the class as a good example.
Like I had any other option.
Our parents expected the work to be done, the play time (this was long before play dates existed) could be fitted in after we washed the dishes, swept the floor, cleaned our rooms, made beds, fixed meals, helped dad with farm chores, including working in the hay fields in the heat of summer or whatever other job my parents dictated needed to be done that day.
Having learned this rule from early childhood on, I assumed every child automatically jumped up and did what needed to be done without being told. Then I married a man with a couple of able-bodied children and discovered the reality of all children.
Children (and teenagers) like to dawdle and play. They like to avoid doing work or do it at their own speed and in their own time. Children assume vacations are a great time to sleep in, play outside and hang out with friends.
Sounds good on paper, but since I am a morning person, my sleep-in time ends around 7 a.m. Therefore the kids’ sleep-in time lasted until 7:15 a.m. As my dad said, “you can stay up as late as you want, but you will be here helping with the work early in the morning.”
So I yanked my children out of bed early, even during vacation. I wanted to get my chores done so I could do what I wanted to do.
That and long, long ago, I looked at our family of many children and declared myelf free from slavery. I say this because mothers, inevitably, have to be near-slaves to newborn babies and toddlers. Then it’s time to press for interdependence.
My old rule came roiling out of me a couple of years ago after we opened our home to several immature people for an extended stay.
I had to work during their stay, but I also had to go home from work and the last thing I wanted to see when I walked in the door was a chaotic house.
I talked it over with my husband. Pointing out that children behave much better when they have definite activities and responsibilities to complete before they can get the privilege of doing what they want, I suggested he come up with ideas of tasks to keep them busy.
I told him – and the expected guests – I would not be acting as the genie of the magic hamper – going around and gathering up dirty clothes and washing them late into the night after everyone else has gone to bed.
I would not be performing feats of magic with food and presenting wonderful meals 20 minutes after I walk in the door after a day of work.
I would not be coughing up a bankroll of cash to pay for their entertainment.
Yes, I would find ways to entertain – ways that began with a list called “helping around the house.”
We decided that they could help power wash the house, clean up yard debris, take care of the dishes, do their own laundry, prepare meals and work on memorizing verses before they earned permission to do what they wanted to do.
And yes, once the work was done, we did play games, watched videos, read books, explored the neighborhood, went shopping or just hung out and visited … just like I did when I was a kid in a large family.
Turned out to be a rather pleasant visit and I actually looked forward to a return visit.

(Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times. Email her at joanh@everybody.org.)

Time and again, I have met folks who believe and practice, “If we are faithful to God, He will be faithful to us.”
But no one said it was always easy as my co-worker said, “I have always tithed,” she said. “Even when I did not know how I could do it, I tithed … and it always worked out. I don’t know how, but I always had enough money.”
As with any family, she experienced times when the money was tight, as she did the year her husband had been off work for six weeks with medical problems .
“We were not starving, but it was tight,” she said. “I did not know how I would be able to buy any Christmas for the kids that year. I was a stay-at-home mom with a two-year-old at home. The older children were 7 and 19 at the time.”
“I was talking on the phone with my really good friend. I was standing at the kitchen window when I saw a white truck pull up that said something about the Bell Phone company on the side.”
“I told my friend, ‘A white truck just drove up.’” She paused and watched as the driver opened the door and got out.
“There is someone here with a red shirt, white beard and gray hair. He looks just like Santa Claus,” she half laughed as she told her friend.
“Keep me on the phone,” her friend urged.
“I’m sure it will be fine,” she said, but stayed on the line anyway as the man walked up to the house and knocked at the door.
The stay-at-home mom went over to the door, opened it and asked, “May I help you?”The man in the red shirt with the white beard said, “I heard you were having a hard time this year at Christmas.” He reached in his pocket, pulled out a white envelope and said, “This is for you.”
She took it, and before she could open it or even say “thank you” he turned, walked quickly back to his truck, climbed in and drove away.
Her friend’s voice came over the phone, “Who was it? What happened?”
“He looked like Santa Claus, that’s all that I can tell you because it happened really fast and quick.”
“What did he do?”
“He came up to the door, said ‘I understand things have been a bit tight this year’ and gave me a white envelope.”
“What’s in it?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t opened it. I am kind of afraid to open it,”
“Open it! Open the envelope and see what it is,” her friend insisted.
Okay,” She slipped her finger behind the flap, opened the envelope, pulled out five one hundred dollar bills and began screaming.
“Oh my! It’s five one hundred dollar bills,” she half cried and half screamed.
Her friend screamed happily with her.
“And, I never had a chance to ‘thank him’,” she said.
“Did you give him my address?” her friend teased.
The family never did find out who had brought the cash – although one person did try. “They called the phone company and asked, but no one there fit that description.”
“Some people say that Santa Claus visited me,” my co-worker said. “But, I do not think it was Santa Claus, I believe it was an angel.”
“It is like I heard at the Bible Study the other night, ‘Jesus is Sweet.’ I have heard that He is good. I have heard that He is real, but that year, Jesus was sweet. He was so sweet to us. We had a nice Christmas dinner. It was just amazing,” she said.
In the years since that event, her children have all entered full time ministry.
Yes, Jesus is good. Jesus is real – and when times are tough He is sweet, so sweet – as my co-worker discovered the day when a man who looked like Santa Claus gave her an envelope with much needed cash.
(Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times. E-mail her at joanh@everybody.org.)

Before our holiday gathering, I asked Joy about bringing the old- fashioned hand grinder to prepare the cranberries for cranberry salad.
“It really is neater to use the blender, but the hand grinder can be kind of fun for the kids. It is what we used for years.”
“I think Sophie would enjoy it,” she said.
So I pulled a chair across the kitchen floor and reached into the top shelf for the original, albeit worn-out, faded red cardboard box that holds our old-fashioned food grinder. I received it as a wedding gift from my Canadian college friend. She insisted it was essential to any household.
I accepted the gift, but had no idea how I would use it. I could not think of any time my sisters and I had used one when we cooked together at home.
But, I did find many uses for it during my first decade of canning fresh fruits and vegetables. I used it to make relish when I began canning food for the family. The twist of the handle with its wooden grip crunched crisply into cucumbers and onions – and sprayed my face with a fresh garden produce smell and onion juice to bring tears to my eyes.
I used it to add in a couple of carrots, exulting in the sound of the crunch of metal against a carrot still exuding a fresh earthy smell.
I even used it a couple times to reduce ham into ground ham for a salad. But, I never did learn to like cleaning the spiral of the grinder and the blades after those greasy experiences.
I did learn that shoving a couple o carrots or some other solid fruit or vegetable pushed out the last bit of meat while cleaning up most of the residue. But over time, we used the hand grinder less frequently, settling for using it only to prepare our traditional holiday cranberry salad.
The bouncing red berries easily fall into the stuffing funnel of the grinder so little fingers are not tempted to push them into the mechanism. The berries make a gratifying pop as we turn the handle and the rich red juice and pulp slowly accumulates in the catching bowls.
The only thing I never liked about it was the juice leaking from the unsealed joints when I used the grinder with berries and other juicy foods. I quickly learned to place a pie pan under the device after we clamped it to a table leaf, chair or board to keep from having to wash the floor afterward.
At the family gathering, the grandchildren eagerly surrounded us, impatiently waiting their turn at the handle. With only one pound of cranberries, we  made sure each had a turn to add berries and a turn swinging the handle.
The two-year-old insisted she be included with her almost four-year-old cousin and five-year-old brother. With the grinder clamped to a board only a couple feet off the ground, they all could stretch high enough to swing the handle or stand on the other side to carefully add handfuls of cranberries.
The children wound the handle round and round. Their mothers monitored and we all tried to snap a few photos of the little ones helping make our traditional cranberry salad. They loved the short task, just as had their father and mother.
Long ago, we all accepted the modern blender as a tidier, if noisier means for doing the same job. But seeing the little ones running over to help, eager to  control a simple machine and make it work reminded me again that even the youngest child will lend a helping hand at the day’s work – given an invitation and a chance to enter the adult world for a short time.

(Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times. E-mail her at joanh@everybody.org.)

Okay, so the woman made a mistake. She had an affair with a married man. She says she did not know about the wife until she announced her pregnancy and he said, as a married man he had no interest in divorcing his wife and marrying the young woman.
He disappeared from her life as emphatically as he had arrived.
She refused to even consider abortion, but, adoption – perhaps – but she chose to keep the child, a boy.
She did not, however, take the next step and embrace the mantle of motherhood. As an infant, baby and then pre-schooler, the boy needed her loving direction in his life and a sense of her commitment to him – and he did not feel it.
By the time he was three, after yet another person had given up on baby-sitting a child who screamed and threw tantrums, his mom went to a woman she had met at the church she had begun attending.
“No one wants to baby-sit him. They can’t control him. Would you please babysit?” the young mother sighed in defeat.
The baby-sitter, a mother of three and grandmother of two, agreed to try.
The first day the pre-schooler overwhelmed with the frustrations that every little kid experiences began throwing a screaming temper tantrum.
The baby-sitter began singing, “Jesus loves me, this I know.”
“Stop singing,” he screamed at her.
“You do not tell me what to do,” she said bending down to look in his eyes. “I am 50; you are 3. I am the boss, not you. When you stop screaming, I will stop singing.”
He looked at her dubiously.
He screeched. She began singing.
He stopped. She stopped.
He screamed; she sang. He stopped and looked at her. “You’re the boss?” he asked tentatively.
“Yes.”
He sank down inside himself to think about that.
He tried the scream a few more times and discovered she would not yield to his tantrum. He pretty much quit screaming around the babysitter.
The baby-sitter told the workers in the church nursery, “If he starts screaming, sing.”
But it was not all discipline for the child. This baby-sitter enjoyed children. She spent her days interacting with them, playing and even doing a bit of roughhousing and tumbling about.
“You want to play with me?” he asked bewildered at this strange adult.
Yes, and she even encouraged him to jump on her second hand couch from Goodwill and to learn to fall into the cushions.
“But, I told him to be sure to ask before he did it at any other house because not everyone would want him to jump on their couch,” she said.
He looked at her in astonishment. She didn’t just want him to sit in front of the TV and just be good?
The mother told the baby-sitter she would not take her son out in public because he did not behave.
“Well you have to train him how to act in public. He won’t learn unless you take him,” the baby-sitter said.
So the mom took her son shopping and was surprised at how well he behaved.
The baby-sitter was surprised at how long the mother held onto her guilt for having had an affair.
“Maybe I should have given my son up for adoption,” the mother said one day as she wallowed in her misery.
“No. You made the decision, now forgive yourself and choose to have a good time with him,” the baby-sitter urged her.
“If I had given him up when he was born, I would not miss him,” the mother mused one day.
“Yes, you would. Once you are pregnant, even if you never have the child, it changes you forever. Now grow up and become his mother.”
During their daily visits the mother expressed astonishment at all that the baby-sitter knew. “I wish I knew how to do all that,” she sighed
“Look, I am a baby-sitter. I am a mother of three and I have taken care of many more children. I just have had more time with more children than you have. You’re a first time mom. You’re not supposed to know all this. You are still learning. That is normal. You’re supposed to ask questions and not know how to do it all, So ask, watch, listen and learn. That is what you do at this time.”
“I don’t have to be the best?”
“No, but you do have to ask questions from experienced people. Talk with other moms, talk with teachers … and listen. They have had more time and experience. That’s what it takes.”
Or as it says in Titus 2:4, “let the older women teach the younger” … and let the younger ones learn.
(Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times. E-mail her at jhershberger@eldoradonews.com.)

The giants moved through the land of the Lilliputians with great ease during the early Thanksgiving gathering in the holiday suite. While the giants hauled in suitcases, boxes of food and toys, the Lilliputians, released from car seat captivities, raced, toddled and crawled as they explored the unit where they discovered the basket of the toys.
The tiniest Lilliputian man pulled out the yellow bulldozer connected with an electric cord to a controller. Holding the controller, he paraded around the circle of rooms with the trailing bulldozer, delighted to be controlling something smaller than himself.
His Lilliputian sister with an elfish grin grabbed the tea set, filled the tea pot with water and began filling tea cups to serve to the giants.
The giants smiled knowingly and politely sipped their tea.
The Lilliputian Curlytop promptly found all the books and a Giant with a lap. She plopped herself down, confident that any Giant will read books to any Lilliputian who sits in their lap.
A couple years shy of becoming a short giant, the oldest Lilliputian roared through the rooms, showing off his new-found skill of sounding out Giant letters and sometimes words. He struggled with the Giant’s shoe-tying mandate, proved he knew how to set a table and sat for long periods at the fancy desk to color – sometimes joined by the Lilliputian with the elfish grin.
The roly-poly Lilliputian smiled, cooed and grabbed her newly-discovered toes. Anything anyone said in her general direction sufficed for a conversation. Propped into a sitting position and surrounded by pillows she reached and picked up items to study. When she tipped too far to the side, she rolled over and began shoving and pushing with her legs. She protested any attempt to cuddle her like a baby – she insisted she needed help standing. She liked to stand. She liked to bounce. As soon as she got her strength up, she promised to be up, crawling and walking, but just now, she needed a helping hand.
When the Giants moved back and forth fixing food, the Lilliputians pulled out pots, pans and lids for the Giants to use … even if they did not need them. The old, white-haired Giant peeled apples for an apple crisp watching a parade of sleepy giants coming to fill their cups at the coffee pot.
Giant women carried Lilliputians on their hips as they prepared vegetables, tasted desserts and made grocery lists of necessities. Giant men took Lilliputians out to explore the park.
The tiny little man tolerated being lifted up to the counter to eat, but voiced a strong opinion in body language about the food offered. A violent thrust backward said he did not like the vegetables. He much preferred the cake and desserts, his grabby hands insisted. When the oldest Giant lady offered to help him eat, he communicated his displeasure with a twist, a turn, a lean and reaching out to the Giant man he kept around to help him every day.
Sitting at the table of bounty for the Thanksgiving dinner, the Giants declared, “Let’s go around the table and for each letter of the alphabet give thanks for one item.”
Curly-top Lilliputian did not want to participate. Little man had not learned enough of the Giant’s language yet, he just thumped the table for another helping of food. The Lilliputian with the elfish grin giggled. Not knowing the Giant’s letters that well, she smiled and said, “I’m not thankful,” for most of her turns.
The almost Giant, but still Lilliputian, proudly grinned and announced he was that for the letter U he was thankful for onions.
For these moments, fleeting as they may be, thank you, Lord. For the blessing of Lilliputians, who all too soon will be Giants helping to prepare the holiday feast, we thank you. With each new Lilliputian at the Thanksgiving table, we celebrate the promise of the continuation of life and the joy they bring.

(Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times. E-mail her at jhershberger@eldoradonews.com.)

Choosing a leader has never been easy. Few know a person’s capabilities under pressure. Only God knows that.
So centuries ago when God sent the prophet Samuel to Jesse’s house in Bethlehem to anoint a king, He emphasized, “anoint the one I indicate.”
In Bethlehem, Samuel consecrated Jesse and his sons and had each son, from the oldest to the youngest, come before him as recorded in I Samuel 16. Of the family of eight brothers, only the three oldest and the very youngest are named.
“Samuel saw Eliab and thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed stands here before the Lord.’”
But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”
Then Abinadab and Shammah each stand before Samuel and look promising to Samuel. But each time he hears, “The Lord has not chosen this one.”
The next four sons similarly pass before Samuel. Finally, Samuel turns to Jesse and asks,” Are there are any other sons?” Samuel has been sent to anoint one of Jesse’s son, but God passed over the first seven.
Jesse has one more son; a son so young he was not called in from watching sheep for the special sacrifice. At Samuel’s request, David is called home, and arrives glowing with health and good looks. “This is the one, anoint him,” the Lord tells Samuel.
With all seven older brothers watching, David is anointed – a ceremony signifying God’s choice.
Years later he assumes the throne and is called a man after God’s own heart – an improbable title considering his personal history. During his kingship, David had an affair, he started and completed wars with neighboring countries, he had family problems, rebellious children, incestuous children and was himself an accused murderer. Even God called him a bloody man and would not allow him to build the first temple for Him.
Yet, God called David a man after His heart.
Why?
Because David trusted God. His trust stands out the only other time the same four brothers are named – during a war with the Philistines when the giant Goliath challenges the Israelites to send out one soldier to fight him.
Jesse sends David from tending sheep to take food to his three oldest brothers, Eliab, Abinadab and Shammah, on the battlefield with King Saul. David hears the giant’s daily challenge and sees the fear and desperation of all the Israelite soldiers – including his brothers. Eliab accuses David of being conceited, wicked and a spectator. For obvious reasons, no one wants to fight such a formidable foe.
No one, that is, except David who goes to King Saul and promises, “Let no one lose heart on account of this Philistine; your servant will go and fight him . . . The LORD who rescued me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will rescue me from the hand of this Philistine.” I Samuel 17:37.
With that statement of trust in the God of Israel, David demonstrated “why” God had chosen him to be the next king rather than Eliab, Abinadab or Shammah or the other four brothers. David knew he would not fight Goliath alone; he would fight with God.
In later years when he was called down for his sins, David stood before God and said, “Against You and You alone I have sinned.” Psalm 51:4. He did not make excuses or whine as King Saul had done when Samuel pointed out his deliberate disobedience to God’s instructions.
David had all the characteristics of a strong leader. Good leaders take responsibility, they don’t whine and blame others. Leaders persist with a plan in the face of nay-sayers. Leaders volunteer to tackle the impossible task because they trust God and expect Him to be there with them in the battle.

(Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times. E-mail her at joanh@everybody.org.)