Monday, February 28, 2011

Freda's Garden:

Welcome to my Garden:

A few years back I helped Katy Ramsey, a wife of one
of our elders, plan a week-end retreat. Our theme was
"Joy For All Seasons." We had four speakers, a woman
from each season of life. I certainly enjoyed working with
Katy and it was  great growing experience for me. Katy
and her husband, Henry have since gone home to be with
the Lord. I treasure the time spent planning that retreat.
Lynne Lawson, another dear, sister in Christ, typed up
the program and put it in a workbook. I wrote the
following poem to go inside the workbook.

Joy for all seasons,
In every circumstance of life?
Lord, how can I be joyful,
There is so much sorrow, so much strife?

"My child I shall be with you."
He answered patiently.
"No trial shall befall you,
That I shall not be with thee."

Lord, how can I be joyful,
I'm in a lot of pain?
"Endure," He whispered softly,
"Heaven is your gain."

Lord I've lost a loved one
I miss so very much!
"Did you know that I cried with you?"
He said, with a gentle touch.

My tears were were not tears of sorrow,
For your loved one is with me.
They were tears of compassion
And sympathy for thee."

Lord, this world is cold and lonely,
And I feel so all alone!
"My child, you're on a journey,
This world is not your home!

How can you be joyful?
Remember at this journey's end
There's a candle in the window
And a long awaited friend."

Freda Fullerton
February 28, 2011

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Freda's Garden:

Welcome to my Garden:

One time, we bought a book for a gift with the title, "Eventide."
The title intrigued me so much, I wrote the poem below and
gave it the same title.

In the eventide of life
God wilt thou be near?
If I put my trust in thee
Whom shall I fear?

As I walk life's pathway
And come to eventide,
Dear God, it shall suffice
If thou with me abide.

You walked with me at sunrise,
At noon, was with me still,
My prayer... be there at eventide,
My God I know you will!

Freda Fullerton
February 27, 2011

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Freda's Garden:

Welcome to my Garden:

God has blessed us with three wonderful children,
two girls and a boy. Janet is the oldest and Julie is
twenty-three months younger and John is almost
seven years younger than Julie. They're all grown
and wonderful, responsible adults, with great
Christian ethics. We're proud of each one. Today
is Janet's birthday and my poem below was written
several years ago. I'm posting it today, in honor of
her birthday!

Girls are something special,
With pony-tails or curly hair.
God gave me an extra blessing,
For he gave to me a pair.

All the ruffles and the lace,
That I stitched up by the yard,
And to believe that now, they're grown-up
Is really very hard.

I see the dolly dresses,
Made with tender, loving care,
The play hi-heels and make-up
And nurse's kit is there.

I see the birthday parties,
With the candles on the cake
I see the Christmas cookies,
That they loved to help me make.

I can hear the little prayers they offered
As I tucked them into bed,
And I recall the many,
little funny things they said.

Now, they're all grown-up,
But they shall remain, in a special way
My little girls forever,
In my memories of yesterday!

Freda Fullerton
February 26, 2011

Friday, February 25, 2011

Freda's Garden:

Welcome to my Garden:

Lasting treasures are the kind money can't by.
My poem today is taken from Matthew 6:19-20
"Do not store for yourselves treasures on earth,
where moth and rust destroy and thieves break
through and steal."

Father, you ask us not to lay up treasures
In this earthly land,
But I think the things I treasure,
Are the things you understand.

I treasure little children,
And the smile upon their face.
I treasure special loved ones,
And their fond embrace.

I treasure a lovely sunset
On a sea of blue,
I treasure every sunrise,
For the day is completely new.

I treasure older people,
And the example they have been,
And all the treasured moments,
Spent with a special friend.

I treasure sight, to see the beauty
Of this lovely land.
I treasure sound, to hear the music,
Of a lively marching band.

I treasure laughter,
for it lifts the burden of the day.
I treasure special memories,
That have come my way.

I treasure springtime showers
You send from up above,
I treasure your Son, Father,
For His unselfish love.

These are the things I treasure,
And I hold them up for You to view,
For I think the things I treasure,
Are the ones You treasure too.

Freda Fullerton
February 25, 2011

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Freda's Garden:

Welcome to my Garden:

Man has accomplished many great things, my computer
for instances, with the touch of a button, I can instantly
send a message around the world; that still amazes me
so much! There is one thing man can't do, he can't save
himself. He needs God for that! In my poem below, I've
pointed out some things man has done and the things
that are only done by the "Hand of God."

Man with his mighty works of steel
Hath created many an awesome thing,
But only from the Hand of God
Were wrought the days of Spring.

Man's cities stand a monument
To the things that he can do,
But man can never create a sky,
Tinted a heavenly hue.

Man can scale a mountain,
Sail an ocean wide,
But tis God you see,
That marks the boundaries of the tide.

Man has learned to fly a plane,
And tis a grand, grand thing,
But ah, grander still, the humble bird,
Only God can make it sing.

Freda Fullerton
February 24, 2011

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Freda's Garden:

Welcome to my Garden:

When our two daughters, Janet and Julie, were babies they
each had a soft, pink nylon baby blanket, with satin binding.
They loved those blankets, especially Julie, the youngest. She
seemed permanently attached to it. It was so worn from washing
that it was full of holes. I had to bribe them with new dolls, to
get the blankets away from them!
We all have a weakness for certain soft things. Below is a list of
the soft things I like.

I like soft things...
A little fleecy lamb
A baby chick's soft down.

I like soft things...
Springy grass, so green,
Heaping scoops of soft, ice cream.

I like soft things...
Sand sifting through my toes
My old, cotton clothes.

I like soft things...
A bunny rabbit's fur,
A kitty cat's purr.

I like soft things...
Snow so white,
A kiss good-night.

Freda Fullerton
February 23, 2011

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Freda's Garden

Welcome to my Garden:

I read a story once, about this mother that was having
a difficult time getting her young son to go to sleep.
He kept asking for one thing and another and finally he
called, "Mamma, I'm afraid!" She answered, "You
do not need to be afraid, God is watching over you."
There was a pause, and a small, trembling voice said,
"But I need someone with skin on!"
 Don't we all?
We need a hug a pat on the back, a hand to hold.
Tuesday's are special. I get to fellowship with my
Christian sisters, in a Bible class. God knows that
fellowship is important, as indicated in my following

Lord it takes a lot of faith,
To believe that you are there,
When I'm overwhelmed,
With sorrow and despair.

When I'm really suffering,
And my life is filled with pain,
It is easy to believe,
My faith is all in vain.

 I need the comfort,
Of a physical embrace,
And the smile of reassurance,
From a human face.

In your wisdom lord,
You must have known I'd feel this way,
That must be why you gave me other Christians
To fellowship today.

Freda Fullerton
February 22, 2011

Monday, February 21, 2011

Freda's Garden

 Welcome to my Garden:

The calendar is quickly moving toward March and spring,
but someone forgot to tell mother nature that, She is still
holding winter in a serious grip as shown in this past week's
storms all across the US. It reminds me of my childhood days
and the winters I spent on my daddy's farm. He bought the
farm that my great-great grandfather homesteaded.  The
winters there are still vivid in my memory, as indicated in the
following poem.

I remember winter time, as a kid back on the farm.
Mamma put hot, flat-irons in my bed to keep me warm.

With a big, tacked comforter over a flannel sheet
I would be toasty warm, from my head down to my feet.

To touch my feet to the floor next morn, I would be hating
I would bravely hop out of bed when mamma called,
                "breakfast is awaiting."

Read-eye gravy on the stove, biscuits in a pan,
Mamma boiled molasses down, poured from a gallon can.

Coffee boiling on the stove, smelled better than it tasted.
Daddy sternly pointed out, molasses were not to be wasted.

After all the chores were done, I hurried off to school,
Pulling on my stocking cap, I was off to learn the golden rule.

It would take the live long day to thaw out you see,
And I was just waiting for the last school bell to set me free.

I would head home, by way of frozen pond or two
By the time I got home, my hands were turning blue.

I'd rush right up to the  big iron stove, to warm my hands and feet.
Oh, how they ached, before the thawing was complete.

I'd rush right back out again for a snow-ball fight.
Mamma wondered why, I coughed so much at night.

She'd grease me with a little camphor, mixed with rendered lard,
And putting up with that flannel cloth, was almighty hard.

I'd try real hard to suppress my cough, for I knew next would be,
A great-big teaspoon full of sugared kerosene for me.

Freda Fullerton
February 21, 2011

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Freda's Garden

Welcome to my Garden:

Today's poem is taken from Psalm 26:8
"I love the house where you live O Lord,
the place where your glory dwells."
Today is the Lord's Day. I hope you plan to
gather with other Christians in a house where
his glory dwells. We know he dwells in the heart
of each Christian, but when we gather together, he
has promise to be there too!

Lord I love the habitation of thy house
And the place where dwells thy glory.
Redeem me and be gracious to me,
Help me tell thy love's sweet story.

If you should prove me, O Lord, and try me
And test my heart and mind,
I pray steadfast love and faithfulness,
Are among the things you find.

May I sing aloud, the song of thanksgiving,
And tell of your wondrous ways
Fill me with your loving Spirit
Through everlasting days.

Freda Fullerton
February 20, 2011

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Freda's Garden

Welcome to my Garden:

On my 'Thought For Today," blog today's thought is a
Chinese proverb: "A bit of fragrance always clings to the
hand that gives you a rose." It fits well with the following
poem ,"The Gardenia."(The fragrance of forgiveness)
Jesus was beaten, spit upon and crucified, yet he could say,
"Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing."
This is truly the fragrance of forgiveness!

A child plucks a gardenia
As he goes about his play.
He crushes all the petals,
Then throws the flower away.

It lies upon the concrete
And is scorched by the sun;
Many heels tromp upon it,
Before the day is done.

A lonely, homeless, woman,
Gently scoops up the mangled flower;
She sniffs the battered petals
Its fragrance lingers to this hour.

The gardenia reminds her of forgiveness
As it melts her lonely heart.
It teaches her a lesson
That shall never from her depart.

No matter that it's battered
And its petals have been torn,
The fragrance speaks of forgiveness,
Truly love... in its purist form.
Freda Fullerton
February 20, 2011

Friday, February 18, 2011

Freda's Garden

Welcome to my Garden:

This week my husband, Jim and I received a lovely
surprise through the mail. A hand-made valentine
from our youth minister's two small daughters, Ellie
and Abbie. The delightful surprise fits right in with
today's poem. Don and Michelle are certainly teaching
their small children to love the Lord.

Children are gifts from God,
A miracle of love;
With this miracle comes an admonition
From our Father above.

"I grant to you this blessing
A most precious gift to you.
Please remember they will follow in your footsteps
In everything you do.

They will watch you from the cradle
Or as they are at play.
Will you tell them of My love?
Will they see you kneel and pray?

They have such tender minds,
That are as pure as whitest snow.
Will you tell them all about Me
All the things that they should know?

Do not let their little minds be cluttered
By a world filled with sin,
That by the time they are grow-up
They have no desire to let me in.

Please do not let their lives be wasted
for the lack of telling why...
My love was so great for them,
I sent My only Son to die."

Freda Fullerton
February 18, 2011

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Freda's Garden:

Welcome to my Garden:

Yesterday, I watched a small bird flit from limb to
limb in the lemon tree outside my window. The
leaves were heavy with rain-drops. The little bird
took a sip or two of the rain-drops. How wonderful
it is that God provides for all nature. He will certainly
provide for us as well, as indicated in my following poem.

He says, "My little children,
I shall always be with you,
My Hand will always guide you
In everything you do.

For the sparrows I do care,
And the lilies dressed in white.
Will I not be with you
Through the long and weary night?

I have said each hair is numbered,
Then you must know each tear that that falls I see.
All your joy, your pain, your sorrow,
I share it all with thee."

Freda Fullerton
February 17, 2011

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Freda's Garden:

Welcome to my Garden:
It started to rain about 11 last night. I could hear
it pitter-pat upon the roof. I snuggled down under
my warm blankets and let it lull me to sleep. It
is still raining this morning and as I set here at my
computer I can see the lemon tree just outside my
window. The beautiful, yellow fruit has been washed
clean by the rain. Rain must be God's way of giving
his creation a bath!

I like to watch the rain
As it splatters all around,
Making little rivulets
Upon the sodden ground.

I like to hear the rain
Pitter-pat against the window pane,
Or the steady beat
Upon a roof top weather vane.

I like to feel the rain,
Clean upon my face,
As I walk a country road
And keep  steady pace.

I like to watch and hear the rain
And feel it in the wind,
For tis on such a day as this,
I feel just like a kid again.

Freda Fullerton
February 16, 2011

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Freda's Garden:

Welcome to my Garden:
I love mums. They are a favorite in many gardens.
They are pretty, long-lasting and look great in a bouquet.
I attend our Tuesday Ladies Bible Class with a whole
bouquet of "mums." They are beautiful, loving, dependable
Christians sisters. They are an encouragement to me as I
cultivate my spiritual garden.

Mums are the sturdy flowers
That are put in life's bouquet.
They quietly go about their task
Spreading joy along the way.

They never seek a lot of fuss
About the things they do.
They always go that extra mile.
When you ask them to.

They never seem too busy
To be that a special friend,
And no matter when you call,
On them you can depend.

They always wear a smile,
Upon a friendly face.
And give that very special
Loving, warm embrace.

I thank you God...
So much today,
For all the mums
In life's bouquet.
Freda Fullerton
February 15, 2011

Monday, February 14, 2011

Freda's Garden:

Welcome to my Garden:

You hear so much these days about getting back to basics.
During the depression and some years after, there was no
getting back to basics, life was BASIC! On Valentine's Day,
no one could afford expensive candy or expensive flowers.
They were fortunate to have a few crayons, paper, a bit of
lace and glue to make a home-made valentine. In the
following poem, come with me down memory lane and
reminisce about a time when life was basic.

He wore overalls and brogans
And a flour-sack shirt.
She wore pig-tails, had freckles
And wore a calico skirt.

He liked crawfish, frogs and fishing,
Playing marbles and skipping rocks.
She liked baby chicks and little kittens,
Cookie baking and hollyhocks.

He liked to watch her walk
As she left the one room school.
She liked to take peek at him,
Plowing behind his old red mule.

That she was shy, there was no doubt,
And he, no love-sick fool,
But on the day of valentines,
They both forgot the rule.

She worked for days on his valentine
And put her heart right in it.
She boldly, dropped it in the box,
Her heart beating a mile a minute!

He worked for days, for pennies,
To buy her the store-bought kind,
That said  just what he could not say,
"Will you be my valentine?"

Happy Valentine's Day to all of you.
Freda Fullerton
February 14, 2011

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Freda's Garden

Welcome To My Garden:
Besides the things listed in the following poem,
I like to hear voices raised in praise in Sunday morning service.
I hope you plan to raise your voice to God in praise this Lord's Day.

Things I Like To Hear:

Things I like to hear...
Soft rain drops,
As they fall upon roof tops.
Early morning birds that sing,
A lovely, old church bell ring.

Things I like to hear...
A rooster crow.
My footsteps crunching in the snow.
A child's giggle of delight.
A train's whistle in the night.

Things I like to hear...
The babble of a brook or stream.
A crackling fire behind a screen.
And I like to hear this too,
Three simple words-I love you!

Freda Fullerton
February 13, 2011

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Freda's Garden

Welcome to my Garden:
I must confess I do not have a very green thumb,
but you do not need a green thumb in a spiritual
garden... you only need a loving heart!

Our soul is God's spiritual garden
Where He plants His spiritual flowers.
If the garden is one of beauty,
There He spends such happy hours.

How sad it must be for Him
To gaze upon a garden bare,
Where the flowers all have withered
And only weeds are growing there!

Within the Christian's soul-garden,
He hath planted flowers of beauty rare,
Love's delicate orchid
Is surely blooming there.

The beautiful rose of faith,
He hath planted with his own hand
And many little flowers of trust
Grace this lovely garden land.
Freda Fullerton
February 12, 2011

Friday, February 11, 2011

Freda's Garden

  Welcome to Freda's Garden:
I love living in Southern California.
The grass and trees are green all year
And the roses bloom year-around.
I pruned our roses about a month ago,
but one hardy yellow one is blooming again.
I picked one this morning and its setting in a
bud vase on my cluttered desk. It reminds me
of the following poem.

A Rose
A rose in early spring
 is beautiful to see.
One life in Jesus Christ
 is far more beautiful to me.

Autumn's regal dress
 in splendor reigns supreme.
One life...
 is far more glorious to our Blessed King.

All the treasures of this earth,
 gems and jewels so rare,
Can never mean so much to Him
 as one lone soul to care.
Freda Fullerton
February 10, 2011

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Freda's Garden

Welcome to Freda's Garden of Poetry:
This is my first post for this blog.
This was my very first poem. I wrote it over 40 years ago.

Dear Master, may love abide in me so much
That I may feel your gentle touch.

May I help someone else their cross to bear,
That I nay show them that I care.

Help me to smile, instead of frown,
And not let small, petty things get me down.

Give me wisdom to understand the things I do not know,
If I should suffer ill or woe...

Help me not to say, Why am I the one?"
But let me say... "Thy will be done!"
Freda Fullerton
February 10, 2011