A Windmill, Sir Winston Churchill, And A Grateful Heart!
By Debbie Daniel (11/30/03)
I believe many of you who have followed my columns know by now that I was a city girl until I came to Texas a few years ago, and now I think I´m Annie Oakley. Ha! Not really, but sometimes I relish in sitting out on the swing my sister gave me for a previous front porch, and now it hangs from the tallest tree in my back yard where I go out and swing to my heart´s content.
When the cows bellow with their mooing, I chime in as loud as I can just to be part of the chorus. Sometimes the animals actually turn in my direction, giving me that long cow-like stare, and I moo even louder. I´m way out in the country, so please don´t think I´ve lost my mind. Not a soul knows I do this, and I really enjoy mooing, so there.
For the longest time I would gaze down at the creek and only with a pair of binoculars could I see a 40 ft. windmill hidden in a clump of trees. From what I understand, that windmill has been down there since the mid-1930´s, so every chance I had to jaunt down into the vast open pasture, park my truck by the creek, and hike over to the windmill, I would go. What an adventure!
It was fascinating! On one of my last visits to the creek, my sister was with me and she scaled right up that giant farmland edifice and shrieked with delight.
She was going higher and higher until I finally urged her to come down. If something happened, I feared our mother would not understand why her two grown daughters were out climbing on a windmill.
We were both in a carefree mode that day; caught up in the playful mentality of a child, and it didn´t bother her that the pictures I took would soon be shown to her six adult children who know their mother would have gone to the top if she hadn´t been stopped.
I knew that she enjoyed romping on that windmill for both of us. I would have been up there with her had I not been nursing a recent shoulder surgery, so it was best that I stay off the tower.
That afternoon was short lived, but the picture of our time down in the pasture that day is forever etched in my memory and even serves as my computer´s screen saver, so I relish in that special moment many times over.
I sought to find out if it was possible to have the windmill moved up closer to the house. Since it was no longer used as a water source for the cattle, I was encouraged to cover the 16 ft. hand dug well on which it sat, and the rest was up to some cowboys that move windmills for a living.
Can you imagine, a city girl like me with my very own windmill? I was ecstatic.
Sir Winston – you can add Churchill to be more formal – now stands in the corner of my backyard against a white fence that borders the yard. As you take the last curve on the country road leading up to my house, that windmill demands your immediate attention as it stands guard like a tall soldier ready to do battle with the harsh winds that come its way.
When I first saw this beauty down by the creek, I noticed that it slowly turned back and forth and creaked with a subtle groaning sound. It was like music to my ears.
Now that it´s been moved to the top of the hill, Sir Winston seems to whirl at the first little breeze that stirs in his direction. He spins almost out of control as the winds pick up and I´m amazed the wheel doesn´t fly off the tower.
On Sunday afternoon we had a norther blow in and I ran out in the yard to see if Sir Winston could stand up to this fast moving storm of cold weather. He turned and faced each and every challenge, never being deterred by the wind´s ferocity.
I stood in awe as I felt the power of the wind nearly knock me over and wondered how that windmill could be so strong and literally defy the almost tornadic-like winds. My mother says that a windmill will turn directly into the wind that threatens and draw strength from this adversity.
That windmill has become a real inspiration to me, encouraging me to stand up and not let the winds of frustration, of hurt, of disappointment cause me to falter. I, too, must be a soldier and willing to face the winds of change that come into my life.
I´m a big fan of Sir Winston Churchill. One of the most intriguing parts of his life story is how despised he was in the mid-1930´s. It was about that time that the British Broadcasting Company (The BBC) wouldn´t even carry his message on the airwaves because he used such harsh words against a man named Adolph Hitler. Churchill knew what an enemy Hitler was, but no one was really listening to the Prime Minister. It was a long time before Roosevelt finally came around and realized what a tyrant the German dictator was.
Well, the rest is history . . . Churchill stood strong and never wavered.
I feel a strong wind fixin´ to blow and I pray we are prepared to stand up and be counted. It´s not terrorists . . . it´s not Saddam Hussein or Osama bin Laden . . . it´s the damaging winds of apathy that are blowing stronger everyday in the hearts of the American people. I believe the inner turmoil will soon peak and hit harder than any blow the terrorists could deliver. It´s just a matter of time.
And if you have no idea what I´m talking about, just look at what´s happening here in our own country . . . we may soon discover that it is “we” who are the weapons of mass destruction . . . slowly but surely killing all that America has stood for in the past 200 plus years.
My prayer today is that – like my windmill and warriors like Winston Churchill – we can brave the storms that are before us in the coming days.
I will spend this Thanksgiving with a grateful heart for all the Lord has done in my life and ask for strength to stand tall against the winds of adversity.
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