Whittled Creations

I sat down last week to blog on that age-old pass-time of whittling, but I found myself on the evils of idleness as inspired by the Case Knife advertisement.  Let’s try it again this week.

While my grandpa always said he was making a little stick out of a big one, lots of whittlers can create beautiful and intricate designs.  I wanted to share with you the wooden pliers my childhood neighbor, John Bertram created.  He spent hours working on these little devices that moving, working parts.  I talked with his granddaughter who remembered him sitting with knife in hand both morning and evening working on the bits of wood.  He used a single knife and made them in stages – he created a few other designs, but the pliers were his favorite thing to make.  His wife passed away several years before he did and he spent even more time whittling in those later years.

Mr. Bertram was also a musician and made at least 2 fiddles.  This one remains unfinished as he was dissatisfied with the sound it produced and disassembled it to made adjustments to the wood’s thickness but never completed the work.   

His father had been a wood worker and Mr. Bertram handed the gift down to his own son who continues the craft.

Another local wood-worker was Royal Hood.  His life began in  the timber-community of Hood Town near Grimsley, Tennessee.  Perhaps it was those early years in timber, or maybe wood-working went back more generations, but Mr. Hood’s father, Lawrence Hood, was a gifted carpenter and craftsman.  Royal continued the family tradition, making elaborately carved walking sticks out of reclaimed redwood.  He decorated the sticks with images of the Tennessee wildflowers he enjoyed growing. 

 His father had been a wood worker and Mr. Bertram handed the gift down to his own son who continues the craft.

Just like Mr. Bertram, Mr. Hood’s son has an unfinished walking stick.  Leaving these works-in-progress is testimony to the lifelong passion these gentlemen had for their craft; they continued it until they were simply unable to remove one more sliver of wood.

 Do you have whittled creations from your family, or maybe even something you have created. I would love to see them. If you are unable to save them in the comments below, please visit me on Facebook at: @AuthorBethDurham (there’s a handy link on the right-hand side of this page).

Idle Hands

“Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”  Did your Grandma ever tell you that?  It’s long been my mantra and whenever I forget it, I get in trouble.

When I saw the Case Knife advertisement pictured here, I wasn’t thinking deeply or philosophically.  The slogan simply reminded me of something I’ve heard all my life and it was a neat picture I wanted to share with all of you.  Yet, as I thought about composing thoughts to go along with the image, I’m afraid I began to wax philosophical.

This is the sort of maxim that we might try to assign biblical roots.  However, it does not appear in the Bible, yet the same moral is oft repeated in scripture.  Proverbs 19:15 warns of hunger coming from slothfulness and 1 Timothy 5:13 cautions Pastor Timothy of the trouble young widows will find if left without a husband, children or a home to care for.

The Apostle Paul really gets after laziness in 2 Thessalonians chapter 3.  He says  those that don’t work shouldn’t eat (verse 10) and you shouldn’t hang out with them (verse 6).  Paul gives himself as the example, saying that he worked hard and paid for everything he took from the Thessalonian congregation. 

Christian women treasure Proverbs chapter 31, but King Lemuel’s mother didn’t abide idleness anymore than Paul would a few centuries later.  Of 31 verses, 11 talk about work.  She even says this virtuous woman, “does not eat of the bread of idleness”.  This woman, works willingly with her hands, brings food into the home, plants, makes her arms strong, works late into the night, spins, sews and feeds the poor.  Whew, she puts me to shame!

So, Tennessee Mountain Stories is a history blog – it’s the stories of the mountains.  How, you may ask, does a dissertation on idle hands fit here?  Well, I’m so glad you asked. 

Despite a stereotype of mountain people (perhaps specifically mountain men) who are slow to work and waste their days fishing or hunting,  I’ll argue that the people of the mountains have always been hard-working and industrious.  While they didn’t build lasting monuments to themselves in the form of fine homes or luxurious plantations, they poured themselves into their families and communities.  The testimony to this work lies in our rich heritage and deep roots.  I hold all of this history I share with you because my family told the stories and taught the principles across generations.

I recently read a book (Will they Stand, Ham, Master Books, 2021) that contends our history and culture can be lost in a single generation.  He remembers an Australian Aboriginal elder quoting his father’s answer to a question about God’s nature, “I don’t know son.  We’ve forgotten.”  Well, the Appalachian people remember – we remember stories (and ballads) from the old country; we remember principles and life lessons from The Bible (even when we don’t properly attribute them to God’s word).  We remember our heritage because the generations before us worked to instill it deep within us.  And we remember a lot of the old ways – ways of hard work like raising a garden on thin rocky soil or finding nourishment from the forests and medicine from the land. 

Yet there is much I have either forgotten or failed to learn.  And I’m convicted of my idleness even as I type these words.  My people could build a house from indigenous materials in a matter of days, I cannot.  My people could diagnose a child’s ailment and find a cure on the hillside, I cannot.  My people looked at the sunrise and planned a day of work based on what God lay before them at that moment – as I watch the eastern sky grow brighter with this morning’s rising sun, that is just what I’m going to do.

A Godly Legacy of Eternal Value

I am sharing the following story with the author’s permission.  The International Board of Jewish Missions (IBJM) and Brother John C. Lawrence are both dear to my heart and I always enjoy reading their magazine, The Everlasting Nation.  This article was printed in The Everlasting Nation’s Special Issue, 2021.  While its scope is beyond the Tennessee Mountains, the heart of these ladies resonates with those of our own ancestors and I felt you good readers would enjoy it.

During an epidemic of another time and generation, an obscure schoolteacher, Eleanor Abbott, from San Diego, California created a game known as Candyland in 1948.  It endured the test of time to become one of the most beloved children’s games ever created.  Eleanor contracted polio at age 36 and was confined to a hospital ward with many children.  As a teacher, she thought about what she might do to provide a creative diversion for them from the hospital routine as they struggled with that disabling disease that mostly affected young children.  She created Candyland, and children just loved it.

It was so popular with younger folks that she was encouraged to take it to Milton-Bradley which mass-produced it in 1949 and long after.  In those early years, Miss Abbott, who lived with her sister Betty Ann, gave most of her royalties to children’s charities.  The first edition of the game featured a boy in a leg brace, one of the tragic marks of those disabled by polio, but later editions did not include it.

As Paul Harvey said, now would you like to know the “rest of the story?”  What many people do not know is that Eleanor Abbott was a dedicated Christian who loved Jewish people.  She met our founder, Dr. Jacob Gartenhaus, in his extensive travels and was impressed with his burden for the salvation of Jewish people, which she shared.  In 1984, Milton-Bradley was acquired by Hasbro which continued to improve and produce her popular game.  By most accounts, it sold a million or more copies annually.  Children never seem to tire of the simple fantasy game.

At the same time (1984), the Abbott sisters made provision for their estate, thinking about their legacy.  The later Brother Lee Fick, our IBJM business manager at that time, once told me the back story.  The ladies chose to make a spiritual investment.  They drew up legal documents to bequeath their Candyland royalties to four Christian organizations of which IBJM was on!  Dr. Gartenhaus sent Brother Fick to San Diego to be present when the sisters executed their legacy documents.  He remarked that they were very diligent to make sure the four beneficiaries would receive all they had intended and secured it for the future.  Miss Abbott passed away in 1988.

Since that time, Candyland continues to be a best seller.  In 2005, the game was inducted into the National Toy Hall of Fame. Royalties have continued to produce considerable income for all four religious organizations designated as the Abbotts’ beneficiaries.  It is a precious gift that keeps on giving, with annual investments in the Lord’s work bearing eternal dividends.  It remains one of the most substantial gifts IBJM receives each year to fund our Everlasting Nation Ministries.

The Abbott sisters are an enduring testimony to what a Legacy gift can do for God’s work, lasting a long time.  Have we thought about our own legacies?  How can we make a difference by deploying our resources far into the future through careful estate planning? The Abbott sisters made certain that what they left behind continued to be invested in the furtherance of the gospel long after they were gone.  Many options are available to invest in heavenly treasure that neither rusts nor fades away.  We give thanks to the Lord for two godly sisters for whom God’s work was of the highest priority!

Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven…” Matthew 6:20