Elaine Marie Cooper Author

Historical Fiction That Grabs Your Heart and Feeds Your Soul

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The Fourth of July in “Road to Deer Run”

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With the upcoming release of the newly-revised Deer Run Saga, I am posting the excerpt of the 4th of July reading of the Declaration of Independence that is a crescendo event for the character of Daniel Lowe. This excerpt is from Road to Deer Run:

The older man  was similar in  appearance to  Josiah, but  the resemblance ended there, as the father had a more humble demeanor in both his countenance and speech. He read the Declaration with a clear, audible tone, obviously moved by the passion underlying the text. It was easy to understand why Mr. Grant had been chosen to do the reading. [Read more…] about The Fourth of July in “Road to Deer Run”

Fallacy of Closure

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I only half paid attention to the news the other day but one word I heard caught my attention: Closure. It was made in reference to the killing of the terrorists who were responsible for the embassy slaughter in Benghazi. Now the family members of the victims could have a sense of closure, the report stated.

I bristled at the suggestion. Closure? When you’ve lost a loved one?

What exactly does closure mean? The dictionary defines it as a sense of resolution or conclusion. The term was brought into popular use in the 1990’s when the “Need for Closure Scale” was adopted by behavioral scientists. It was developed for individuals with a high need for order and predictability in their lives.

What a fallacy. Our lives can never be predictable. Anyone who has lived even a few short years understands the unexpected can happen. Trains are delayed. Flights cancelled. Car accidents take lives. Cancer is discovered. Our lives could be described as an “adventure” perhaps—but predictable?

After writing the memoir of my daughter, Bethany, who died of a brain tumor, I was asked if writing the book somehow gave me a sense of closure.

 

The story of my daughter's journey with cancer.
The story of my daughter’s journey with cancer.

I told this person that I find closure an interesting word. It seems to imply that one can get over the death of a child or other loved one who is torn from our lives here on earth. In some ways, I think it helps onlookers be more comfortable. They don’t have to act like the grieving person still suffers.

 

In fact there is a part of those who are left behind that will always suffer.

 

If you lose a limb, you learn to adjust to its loss. You make accommodations for its absence. Yet the nerve cells in your brain are still connected to that limb. Often, amputees talk about “phantom pain” that makes them feel the actual presence of that missing body part. And yet, the limb is gone. Never forgotten. Always missed.

 

The fallacy of closure is that one never resolves the heartache. It becomes accepted as a part of your new life. But the pain never closes.

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Celebrate Flag Day!

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In 1836, an eleven-year-old boy named William said a final farewell to his beloved grandmother, Elizabeth Ross.

In 1870, the now forty-five year William Canby stood before the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, presenting evidence that his grandmother, Betsy Ross, had hosted a secret visit by George Washington to her upholstery shop in June of 1776. The new commander-in-chief of the Continental Army, along with Robert Morris and Colonel George Ross, approached the young Widow Ross about creating a flag to represent the 13 colonies fighting for freedom. According to William Canby, his grandmother helped design the flag with the circle of stars that is still known today as the Betsy Ross Flag.

Although many have disputed Canby’s story over the years, there appears to be much evidence to support his claims. So much so that in April of 2009, the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission officially recognized Betsy Ross’ contributions to our fledgling nation. The official sign in front of her home on Arch Street in Philadelphia reads:

“Credited with making the first Stars and Stripes flag, Ross was a successful upholsterer. She produced flags for the government for over 50 years. As a skilled artisan, Ross represents the many women who supported their families during the Revolution and early Republic.”

 

Betsy Ross Flag
Betsy Ross Flag

The story of Betsy Ross is an inspiring one. She was widowed not once but three times in her 84 years. Her first husband died from an explosion at a munitions depot. Her second died in a British prison. Her third husband succumbed to illness. She gave birth to seven daughters, two of whom died in infancy. Despite these many tragedies, she continued to support her growing family by running her successful business.

Besides being credited by many with designing and sewing the first flag, she was commissioned in May of 1777 by the State Navy Board of Pennsylvania to sew flags for Navy vessels. The receipt for this work is kept in the Pennsylvania Archives.

That same year, on June 14, 1777, the first official flag of our new nation was adopted by the Continental Congress. Today, we still celebrate June 14 as “Flag Day.”

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I was about eleven-years-old when I visited the home of Betsy Ross. I was enthralled with the history that filled every corner, and clearly remember the kitchen being in the basement—such an odd concept for a child of the 20th century! I discovered a love for the ornate pitchers and bowls that early Americans used for washing up before they had indoor plumbing. I came home with two miniature pitchers and bowls that I bought in the gift shop and treasured for years.

When I think about the eleven-year-old grandson of Betsy Ross treasuring the memory of his grandmother sharing tales from the American Revolution, my heart is stirred. What an impact she had on his young mind! I can envision him sitting near his Grandma as she repaired one of the many flags worn with age that were returned to her hands for restoration throughout the years. The recipients of the flags had not forgotten who the seamstress was. Nor did William Canby. And he cherished the tales from the woman he admired.

What kind of a legacy will we leave our children and grandchildren? Will it be one of using our talents that the Lord has blessed us with?

“Do you see a man skilled in his work? He will serve before kings; he will not serve before obscure men.” Proverbs 22:29 (NIV)

Do we use every opportunity to teach our children about God’s ways and inspire a dedication to Him?

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.” Deut. 6: 5-7 (NIV)

If I learn nothing else from the story of William Canby and his dedication to his grandmother, Betsy Ross, I will always remember her legacy of inspiring memories of importance in his mind—memories shared along the way that were forever imbedded in his heart.

What memories will your children and grandchildren hold dear?

Happy Flag Day! Let our banner be one of Christ’s love and grace

For more information about Betsy Ross, click here.

 

 

 

“I’m Confused”

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I recently saw one of my favorite movies from the ‘80’s entitled “Moonstruck.” It’s the story of an Italian-American family and their often laughable, sometimes melancholic events that vacillate from dramatic to heartrending to comical. Throughout the movie, one feels the great love that is at the heart of this extended family.

One of my favorite scenes is near the end during the kitchen table finale. The adult daughter breaks up with one fiancée and then agrees to marry his brother instead. It is brilliantly written, and shows the changing condition of our lives from one moment to the next. In the midst of the situation, the elderly grandfather becomes confused and begins to weep. His son, Cosmo Castorini, looks at his dad. “What’s the matter, Pop?”

The old man rubs his moist eyes. “I’m confused.”

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It’s a sweet and funny moment—yet seems to express the sentiment of the hour in which we live: We’re confused.

 

Consider these recent occurrences:

 

–       A former male Olympian re-emerges as a female

–       A male singer at an airport dresses in a skirt, wears makeup and bright pink high heeled women’s shoes, and no one seems to bat an eye

–       A terrorist who has killed a child with a bomb is featured on the cover of a popular magazine

–       A best selling book featuring a woman in bondage is deemed a romance and turned into a successful movie

–       United States military chaplains are not allowed to express Christianity in their work

 

And we thought the grandfather from Moonstruck was confused.

We as a society have allowed confusion to reign when we ignore basic principles in God’s word. Life is really not all that confusing when we seek wisdom from our Creator.

“For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.” 1 Corinthians 14:33 (ESV)

Does this mean we become haters and mockers of those who are confused? No. We are commanded to love but to be unafraid to stand for the truth. But until faith and trust softens the hearts and souls of non-believers, confusion will reign.

“The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned.” 1 Corinthians 2:14 (ESV)

The answer to the confusion? Prayer. Pray for salvation for those who are confused and that the eyes of the spiritually blind will see.

It is only through the cross of Christ that reaches to heaven to forgive ALL of our sins—yours and mine—that hearts will be changed, and confusion turned to understanding and peace.

“For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved, it is the power of God.” 1 Corinthians 1:18

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Featured image of Confusion courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Trains, Tragedies and Destinies

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I watched the breaking news story with sadness: A train derailed and over a hundred were injured. As time progressed, the news became even more tragic as several were reported dead and many were listed in critical condition at area hospitals.

Interviews with survivors made you wonder how anyone came through this wreckage of twisted metal with their wits about them and their bodies intact.

Then I remembered a story my mother shared with me years ago. It was another train derailment that occurred during World War II.

My parents, who lived in New York City, were escorting a young female friend who was on her way to visit a soldier—her boyfriend who was stationed at a military camp in New Jersey. My parents had been married less than three years and my oldest brother had been left in the care of Grandma. The train they boarded was packed with travelers and they walked from car to car, looking for one that was less crowded. My dad looked ahead at the next car and turned towards Mom: “They’re all just as crowded. We might as well stay in this one.”

Mom, Dad and their young friend apparently found a spot to squeeze into a seat. They settled in to the noisy uncomfortable train car before it left the station. The cars lurched forward and they began their journey.

Then the unthinkable happened. Screeching metal and screams pierced the atmosphere as bodies were flung from their seats. After what seemed an endless time of terror, the train cars finally stopped, but not before massive casualties revealed the loss of many. Nearly every passenger in the car ahead—where Dad had almost taken the two women—were killed. Many were hurt in the other cars as well.

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Both of my parents and the young woman received minor injuries and the worst was that their friend’s eyes became crossed from the impact. While all three survived, the terror of the incident persisted. For months afterwards, my parents experienced post-traumatic stress whenever they rode public transportation. The slightest sound that seemed unusual set their hearts racing. Eventually, those moments of anxiety lessened and finally ceased.

My parents lived for many more years and had five more children. I was the last child, born about nine years later. My dad survived to the age of 76 and my mom to the ripe old age of 99.

There was another train accident involving my family that occurred decades before this. My grandfather, Benjamin Prince, was only in his twenties and worked on the elevated rail in New York City. The shift had ended but he continued to work on the underside of a train car, making sure it was fixed. Sadly, the engineer who showed up at shift change was unaware my grandfather was still underneath when he started up the train.

This tragedy occurred less than a month after a child was conceived. My young widowed grandmother didn’t even know she was expecting her second child—my Mom—when her husband was killed.

These train tragedies remind me of two things: Our lives are fragile and God is in charge of the length of our days. It is a reminder to me that I must use my time wisely while here on earth; God has a purpose and a destiny for each of us. It also reminds me that God is watching over those whose time has not yet come and will keep us safe until that day when He calls us home. It is both sobering and comforting.

“Man’s days are determined; You have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.” Job 14: 5

Jesus said: “Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.” John 16: 22