The Hive

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

“Mrs. Peavy, don’t go into your room! “
“What? Why not?”

“HORNETS!” replied Ronnie. ‘Hundreds of ’em! All over!”

Ronnie was a known prankster, but he seemed genuinely upset.

Mrs. Peavy gathered her class and sent them to the gym. Then she contacted the janitor, who came with his hands full of various anti-hornet sprays.

He was the school hero for several days, especially to Mrs. Peavy. One sting could have sent her into shock, could even have killed her.

The hive was knocked down overnight, and everything settled back into its normal, boring routine.

Stories in my Life


Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt. 


One of the first books I wanted to check out of the library when I was six years old was a huge tome containing the fairy tales collected by the Brothers Grimm.  Of course, most of them were far beyond my  ability; however, I understood enough to be fascinated by these legends that were originally intended to scare little kids into behaving themselves.  When my dad saw what I wanted to take home, he  leafed through it and suggested I try something more suited to my age. He was right, and I went home with a collection of fairy tales more suitable for an impressionable child.

And that was the beginning of my fascination with all the legends of all the history of mankind. As I gained in reading ability and understanding,  I got into things like the Illiad and the Odyssey, and all the pantheon of Greek and Roman gods and their adventures. As I developed an interest in American history, I got to know Paul Bunyan, Johnny Appleseed, Ichabod Crane, Pecos Bill, and many others.


I especially enjoyed the legends of King Arthur and Camelot as I first read them. The versions written for children left out the ugliness, lust, jealousy, and treachery.

Having grown up on a steady diet of the Bible, I was fascinated when I learned that every civilization in history has a Flood legend.  Some of them are very close to the biblical account.  And then, of course, the Native American legends of creation, animals, spirits, floods, fire, mountains and rivers are too numerous to count.

The common thread in all of these legends is the importance of story.  Story keeps our history fresh; it records customs, traditions, and behavior both good and evil.  Usually, there is a hero/heroine, or both, who save their people from some great evil.

There is only one story, however, that provides a Savior for all mankind. That story is the story of Jesus, Whose birth we will celebrate in just a few more days.

First Crush

Who was your first childhood crush? What would you say to that person if you saw him/her again?


I was five, so I don’t have an ongoing memory of my first crush. He was five, too.  I feel like breaking into a chorus of Frankie and Johnny  🙂

We were in kindergarten together. My first snapshot memory is hearing a knock on the door. My dad went to answer the door, and came back into the living room with the strangest expression on his face.

“There’s a kid about your size out there, Linda. He says his name is Terry, and he wants to know if you can go out to play.”

So I did. I remember nothing more about that incident.

Sometime later, I’m thinking that fall, because it was still warm outside, there was a field trip. We were to bring sack lunches. I don’t remember where we went, but I do remember looking forward to getting my cute little carton of milk. It was a treat for me, because it was so rare. I was in morning kindergarten, and I walked home for lunch. So even the sack lunch itself was a novelty.

I got my coveted milk, but I couldn’t get it open.  Terry came to my rescue, bravely subduing the waxy cardboard. He even put the straw in the carton for me.  What a guy.

And that’s about it. I don’t know if he fell for someone else, or if I did.  Maybe both.  I don’t remember any other crush in my kindergarten year.

What I think is kind of neat is that my present crush also  rescues me now and then and subdues my giants, and he’s been known to put straws in my ice cream floats.

And his name is Terry 🙂

My Hero

Who’s your hero? Tell us a story about why that person plays such an important role in your life.


Terry.  No doubt about it.  He’d be embarrassed to death to know I put his picture up, but he doesn’t  usually read what I write here, so I think I’m safe 🙂

This picture was taken several Christmases ago, can’t remember exactly.  Five years, maybe?

So why is he my hero? Well, he still loves me after more than 45 years.

He’s always put himself last on the priority list.  He doesn’t like peope to fuss over him.  He doesn’t take well to pampering or coddling. He’s worked his fingers to the bone to provide for me and our kids down through the years.  He’s a man’s man, brave and fearless when he does whatever needs to be done.

He absolutely loves our kids, no conditions. He adores our grandkids, but then, who wouldn’t?

Most important, he loves the Lord Jesus Christ with all his heart and soul. He is a student of God’s Word, reading faithfully every day for an hour or more. He is a man who believes in prayer.  He is honest, loyal, and dedicated to doing his best.

In the last 2 1/2 years, Terry has suffered some pretty awful pain. He smashed his heel bone in a fall 2 1/2 years ago, endured the repairative surgery and the chronic pain that has followed.  Then he got the shingles, and still has flares of pain from that. Then he hurt his back, and has since developed senile osteoporosis. That disease has robbed him of about five inches of height, compressing his spine and causing vertabrae fractures.  Still, he puts in hours every day here at home. He’s doing the lion’s share of the work on my new kitchen, although we have been blessed with the help of some wonderful and generous friends. He’s working on getting my car back on the road, searching for the right part to make everything work. He hasn’t stopped or given in to his pain, and I don’t think he will until the last time he lies down before he opens his eyes in heaven.

Sometimes he regrets what he sees as his failures as a dad, but our three sons and our daughter wouldn’t trade him for any other dad on earth.

He’s my hero.