Stephanie Rische

Blogger and Writer: Capturing Stories of God's Grace

The Sweetest Things

Is it just me, or does it seem like our world is a bit lacking in the sweetness department right now?

  • My newsfeed is filled with more political travesties than a person can ingest in a single sitting.
  • Swaths of the East Coast are still reeling from the aftermath of the hurricane.
  • At every turn, it seems, there’s a shooting in Chicago or a bombing in Aleppo or another racial injustice or a refugee crisis.

There is bitterness at every turn. Where, oh where, is the sweetness?

***

One of my best literary friends is Anne of Green Gables. She and I met when I was in fourth grade, and the friendship is one I never outgrew. In one of those mysteries unique to book-world, she seemed to grow with me. Each time I reread the series, I’d connect with parts of her and her story that I’d missed before. She hadn’t changed; I had.

One of the things I loved most about those books was the way “Anne with an e” savored the little things. Her story isn’t fueled by drama or intrigue or jaw-dropping plot twists; it’s made up of the little moments that become more beautiful simply by the noticing. Maybe that’s why I love this quote from Anne of Avonlea so much:

“After all,” Anne had said to Marilla once, “I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.”
L. M. Montgomery

Anne has gotten me to thinking that my question—“Where is the sweetness?”—may not be the right one to ask. Maybe the problem isn’t that there isn’t enough sweetness in the world; maybe I’m just not noticing it. And maybe there are some things I can do to make the world a sweeter place.

***

Tomorrow is Sweetest Day. I’m not one for Hallmark holidays, where people either feel guilted into proving their love with their wallets or feel left out because they don’t have a certain someone to celebrate with. But I am a fan of sweet things.

And if there was ever a year we need more sweetness, it must be this one.

When I started digging into the history of this holiday, I was surprised to discover that Sweetest Day wasn’t originally about romance at all.

The first Sweetest Day dates back to 1921, and apparently there was even a committee for the holiday. A dozen candy makers got together and called themselves “the Sweetest Day in the Year Committee.” (I have to believe those were the best board meetings ever.)

On October 10 of that year, they distributed more than 20,000 boxes of candy to people all over Cleveland, Ohio, who were in need of a little sweetness: newsboys, orphans, the elderly, and the underprivileged.

It wasn’t a big thing, perhaps. The distribution of candy surprises didn’t solve poverty or improve social conditions or change the economic infrastructure of the city. But like Anne said, sweetness isn’t always found in sweeping gestures or the grandiose declarations. Sometimes the little things can be the sweetest ones. Like pearls slipping off a string.

How will you make the world a little sweeter today? Maybe you can give someone a genuine compliment or buy a stranger’s coffee or mail a card to somebody who’s lonely. The thing about sweetness is that when you give it to someone else, it leaves a sweet aftertaste in yoflourishur own mouth too.

***

Your turn! Tell me something sweet you did for someone else or something sweet someone did for you, and you’ll be eligible to win a Sweetest Day package from me: Margaret Feinberg’s new book, Flourish, about how to “live loved,” plus a bag of Ghiradelli chocolates.

Happy Sweetest Day!

9 Books Every Girl Should Read

Whether you’re looking for a book for a girl you love or you missed these along the way in your childhood, here are nine of my top titles for girls.

williams-velveteen-rabbitThe Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams
This book offers some profound insights about how love can hurt, but how it’s also what makes you real.

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

a_wrinkle_in_time_coverA Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
I’m not sure if this is an adult book that can also be appreciated by kids or a kids book that can also be appreciated by adults, but it holds up for any age, any generation. I remember reading it and having my eyes opened to the wonder and mystery just under the surface of ordinary life. I also felt a special kinship with Meg, who doesn’t seem to fit in with her peers but finds herself uniquely equipped to deal with another world once she arrives there—a world she never even dreamed of.

The Bridge to Terabridge_to_terabithia_coverbithia by Katherine Paterson
This was the first book I remember reading that didn’t have a happy ending. Although I felt indignant about it at the time, I grew to appreciate the beautiful picture of friendship painted in this book and how the characters’ grief prepared me to face my own losses.

secret_gardenThe Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
This book serves as a reminder that friendship can blossom just as surely as flowers do, that miracles are possible, and that hope is worth clinging to.

 “Is the spring coming?” he said. “What is it like?” . . .

“It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine.”

little_women_coverLittle Women by Louisa May Alcott
I think every girl has a little bit of Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy in her. These sisters helped me grow up and figure out who I was, and they showed me how to stay true to what I stood for.

anne_of_green_gablesAnne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery
I read this series so many times the books are now practically falling apart. After I read each book as a kid, I’d give it to my grandmother (she of the red hair and the spunky personality, just like Anne) and we’d talk about it together. Looking back, I suppose it was my first impromptu book club.

little-house-on-the-prairieLittle House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder
I must have overlooked the parts about dysentery, the lack of indoor plumbing, and the absence of central air, but I desperately wanted to go back in time so I could be Laura. This book offers a poignant snapshot of a particular era in our country’s history, and it’s rich with themes of family relationships and the tough times can help us learn and grow.

“There’s no great loss without some small gain.”

pippi_longstockingPippi Longstocking by Astrid Lindgren
This book is pure fun. My sister and I loved wearing colorful stockings and putting our hair in pigtails, Pippi style.

winnie_the_horse_gentlerWinnie the Horse Gentler by Dandi Daley Mackall
This book came into my life when I was an adult, like a long-lost friend, but it’s a story every girl should read. Horse lover or not, every girl will connect with the ups and the downs of being a kid, the longing for friendship, and the way the funny moments of life weave together with the more serious ones.

What were your favorite books as a kid? I’d love to hear your list.

Beauty in the Dying

I was walking through the woods the other day with a million things on my mind—making mental to-do lists, replaying recent conversations in my head, worrying over the usual things I have no control over. Then I glanced up for a moment and literally stopped in my tracks, right there in the middle of the path.

My jaw came unhinged as I took in the sight. Fiery maples, golden elms, and burnt-orange oaks melded together in a kaleidoscope of colors just in front of me. The October-blue sky peeked out from behind the trees, and the sun shone a spotlight onto the autumn-hued rainbow.

I couldn’t help but think about the quote by that endearing redhead, Anne of Green Gables: “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” (Don’t ask how many times I’ve read the books and watched the PBS special. Suffice it to say, often times enough to quote liberally.)

As I stood rooted to the spot on the trail, a cyclist whizzed past me, no doubt annoyed I was blocking the path, but my feet were rooted to the spot. The scene was so beautiful I ached. Partly because I couldn’t hold all that beauty inside of me. And partly because the thing about fall is you know it can’t stay.

Then a rather morbid thought occurred to me: the leaves are beautiful because they are dying. Their chlorophyll is slowly leaking out, no more sustenance is going their way, and the trees are slowly shutting down the processes of life.

We think of death as the worst-case scenario. But we rarely stop midstep to acknowledge the beauty that often accompanies it.

Jesus, in his usual upside-down way, made this counterintuitive statement:

If you cling to your life, you will lose it; but if you give up your life for me, you will find it.

—Matthew 10:39

My grandpa was just in the hospital again. He and Grandma have been planning their 90th birthday bash for some time, and now it’s just weeks around the corner. They have a guest list that’s fitting for a couple as charming and delightful as they are—200 of their closest friends, their dozen children, and a slew of grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Thankfully, Grandpa is home from the hospital now. He’s a pretty tough guy, and just stubborn enough (having 12 kids will do that to you) that I have no doubt he’ll be raring to go by party time. But Grandpa’s recent stint in the hospital was one of those moments that stopped me in my tracks, causing me to reflect, autumn-style, on his life.

As his strength on this side of eternity fades, his faithfulness for all these years—to his wife of 60-plus years, to his family, and to his God—blazes all the brighter. His life is an example of the beauty that can come with endings. The knowledge that his time here is wrapping up only directs a spotlight on those lovely, shining parts of his character.

If I hope to ever have a life that blazes like Grandpa’s, I first have to die to my own way of doing things, to my own agenda. Because it’s only when I surrender that I can embrace the beautiful life Jesus offers. It’s only by dying that I truly live.

Thanks for your life, Grandpa. Thanks for the beauty. It’s going to be one grand party.

How beautifully leaves grow old,
How full of light and color are their last days.
—John Burroughs

 

 

I’ve taken the challenge of reading the Bible chronologically this year and tracing the thread of grace through it. These musings are prompted by my reading. I’d love to have you join me: One Year Bible reading plan.