Road Schooling in America: Mississippi Memories

I was worried we might miss Christmas being in the car for six days leading up to Christmas. You know, no sparkling lights, no cookies baking, no presents calling out temptation from under the tree. I needn't have worried.

We spent one night in Mississippi with Brenda and Kerry. They didn't have lights either. There wasn't a tree. No holiday decorations that I recall.

But their house was infused with the spirit of Christmas. Love. Plain old love. Love of God. Love of His creations. Love for each other, for family, for friends. Love for all the simple things that are a tapestry of beauty and inherently complex. Music, harmony, art. Nature, animals, people.

Brenda fed us a feast of Southern home cooking, including chicken & dumplin's and cornbread. We ate well, had pleasant conversation, all the while being entertained by Kerry's jokes.

The back room is rich with musical instruments that people have given to them or entrusted to find the right home. Between the two of them, I think they play just about every one. Some of them, they play well. Others they play to learn a song, to enjoy the process, to enjoy the richness of being and creating.

Kerry is a big Civil War history buff; spends hours in the library researching history in the area and then follows it up with time on the field with a metal detector. His walls are covered with his finds. Wagon wheels, chains, horseshoes, a ram rod, and more. Before long, he was showing the boys had to make wax bullets as they would have done for the Civil War.

In the back room is a treasure of petrified wood that Kerry and his co-workers discovered doing renovations. Everyone else said they wanted it, but no one took it. Kerry took some and polished it. "You just can't compete with God's work."

In the evening, they sang Christmas carols for us -- at my request. It was peaceful, sweet, and fun.