Developing Horizons Magazine (2).pdf April 2014 | Page 22

MountainMoments
Tobacco at Carter’s Store
What would we do with such vast wealth -- forty-five cents stolen out of our brothers’ pockets
while they slept? With our “habit,” the answer was simple: feed it!
At the mere suggestion of quenching the desire, spit oozed from our saliva glands and Jim Carter’s
store called to us. The sense of anticipation increased as Keith and I topped the Bruce Gap and saw
the “A” framed store at the bottom of the hill. Pigeons sat on the Sinclair sign and pooped on the dinosaur while, nearby, the sun bounced off a blonde headed girl caught forever dancing in Coca Cola’s
red paint. Jim didn’t stay in the store all the time so we had to “holler him out.” That meant we stood
outside the store and yelled until the door of his house opened and out he came, stomach first, rosy
cheeks and grey hair a few seconds later.
Standing between the counter with its boxes of cigars, Apple and Bull of the Woods chewing tobacco, Kits, Kisses, bubble gum, Mars bars and Snickers bars, Jim said, “What can I do for you boys?”
I guessed he didn’t notice that I was a girl. It didn’t matter. The mission was the thing. “Give us
two plugs of Bull of the Woods tobacco and four Kits,” Keith said.
Jim’s cheeks pooched and glowed like mischief. “Guess Grady’s started chewing now?”
“No, Ralph sent us,” I lied.
Keith grabbed the tobacco and I got the Kits. The last I saw of Jim, he was silhouetted against the
rows of Dental Sweet Snuff on the shelf behind him and grinning like a possum.
As we came down the home side of the Bruce Gap, we stopped. Keith gave me
my plug of tobacco and his knife. I sliced a piece from the corner, being careful
to keep inside cuts at a ninety degree angle. Balancing the block on the knife, I
raised it to my mouth, turning the load sideways as my lips pulled in the smooth
rectangle. The rich, sweet taste activated the saliva buds as I chewed, making it
necessary to push the cud to my jaw and spit. The use of the treasure I possessed
demanded attention to detail. I placed the remainder of the plug carefully in the
corner of my jacket pocket. It was my very own – the whole plug! I had never
had one before. The new green jacket Mama had made for me out of chicken feed sacks and the feel
of the slick wrapper in my pocket made me feel so warm inside that I skipped for a yard or two. Life
was good.
A spring just over the steep bank called to us and we slid through the grass to get a drink. I spat,
poked my chew farther to the side, cupped my hands, dipped the water into them and drank. The
juice mixed with water burned as it went down. After we had climbed out of the ravine, I stuck my
hand into my pocket to feel my treasure, but it was gone. I felt the other pocket. Where could it have
gone? We climbed up and down the bank looking, but the plug was not to be found.
“You think God’s telling us we need to quit?” Keith asked.
“No, I just lost it,” I replied. At ten years old, the thrill of sneaking the money from my older brothers’ pockets while they were sleeping, the slipping away from home without Mom and Dad’s knowing
it and the tart, yet sweet taste of the tobacco were just too much to allow to slip through my hands.
“You can have some of mine, but after this we’re going to quit.” Keith always told me what to do. I
always listened. What can I say? It was one of the happiest, yet saddest days of my life.
Today, having watched one of my other brothers deal with mouth cancer from chewing tobacco, I
think about what a blessing this experience was to me. Also, when I consider the personal and societal consequences of alcohol and drug abuse, my heart cries for more “wise, big brothers” like Keith
who decide not to use addictive substances and influence their siblings to make the same decision.

Irma Flanagan is a retired English
teacher and volunteer at DHM
22

The True Story of Spring
By Diane Hale

It is spring. The earth is waking after a long, cold
and difficult winter. There’s something else in the air:
a stillness, like the one that for three days surrounded
the tomb of Christ. We know that the stillness then
was a pregnant pause after which came the sound,
the sound from heaven. Breaking through into the
natural atmosphere, it sounded like thunder. Heavenly
beings burst through the barrier of the natural domain
and with spiritual strength flicked the stone from the
mouth of the cave.
Death no longer had dominion as simultaneously
within the tomb, the power of all creation was unleashed. Light flashed; the Word lived; resurrection
power exploded. “He is alive!” came the shouts of the
women, running to declare the awesome miracle of
God, “He is not here. He is risen.” For 40 days crowds
saw his appearing. They heard Him speak and their
hearts were ablaze with His passion and glory.
We recall the Lord’s statement, “I tell you the truth.
Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies,
it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces
many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it,
while the man who hates his life in this world will keep
it for eternal life ” (John12:24-25).

Life for God’s people, that is, life in the kingdom,
is grown by multiplication of relationships based on
the cross of Calvary. If those relationships are God
governed and God guided, then the growth process is
full of self-denial and holiness. Groups, regardless of
size, are living life in the context of a heavenly agenda
where honor, virtue and purity of heart are valued. We
are taking care of our fellow man while allowing truth
to track our attitudes and our actions.
The message is clear. Everyone everywhere is
reminding us that our purpose here on this earth is to
reach out and touch the lives of others with the love of
God! We know the steps but we are lacking the power
of love. What we need is a road map to discover the
inner journey, the source of our own discipleship and
to develop the power of God as a disciple of