School was out today so that all the teachers could attend the funeral of a dear lady--one who had faithfully attended all our concerts for many years--the choir director's own mother.
Her name was Ruby, and, like her name, she sparkled as she lived her life. The wife of a pastor, the mother of three sons, the grandmother and great-grandmother of many, she shared with them her gift for music and her love of great songs. The service reflected this. It was a celebration, replete with all the old hymns we have come to cherish as outward proclamations of our inward hope and comfort.
We drove north in the early morning and saw sunlight glitter on windmills in the dawning.Passing through several small towns, we saw elevators with wheat painted on the sides.
Coming home we took a different route, so the afternoon found us in northwestern Oklahoma with little traffic and steppe-like terrain. The day was hot; the skies were blue, and the clouds were just poofy little fluffs.