Some very dear friends of ours 14 year old daughter wrote this piece and posted on their family blog yesterday. I think she did an excellent job, so I wanted to share it here as well. It’s great to see, if we raise our children up in the Lord, and do not compromise scripture, good fruit will show through…
"As I am writing this, I hardly expect it to receive attention in any civic account; for I am not a completely experienced writer- all I have worthwhile to offer for the good of our nation is the strength of my arm and the length of my days, and the drops of ink on this page. I will pour out my heart in this appeal to my fellow brothers and sisters; for all Americans, no matter color, gender, appearance or background, are in some way, close kin; though not by blood or name or official papers.
In that beautiful spring of May 2012, me and my family, after nearly five years, took a vacation to Branson, Missouri; and if you have seen the news announcements at the time, you would know that it was only two months after a tornado had come through, so we expected things to be ripped up some, and not as we remembered it. In this, we were correct; as far as busted windows, damaged roofs, and a few flattened buildings are concerned. But as we went about our activities, my family and I noticed that this was not the Branson it was five years ago, nor what it was during the near two and a half to three decades that my Mom has been visiting, every once or twice a year. As we walked the streets of Silver Dollar City, a large, old-fashioned amusement park, much was still the same as far as costumes, buildings decorations could make it, but the historical, family-friendly aspect was rapidly disappearing. I am now a teenager, and used to oppose the normal idea people have of that age, but there I couldn’t help but agree- hundreds of young people hanging out with their buddies, the boys wearing slouchy pants or shorts, earrings, necklaces, and tee-shirts with crude pictures or language, longer, curly hair, girls who wore embarrassingly revealing skirts or pants that didn’t even began to reach their knees, and even went so far as to climb on the boys inappropriately. Their faces were aged with the worry and cares of the world, that even at the tender age of fifteen, sixteen and seventeen, they must use loads of thick make-up so that time might appear to not leave a trace upon their figure. Not only were these kids dressed incredibly offensive, but without a twinge they used strings of filthy language, turned on their blaring i-pods full of equally filthy music, and laughed and talked so loud to attract attention.
Obviously, this group of youth had no one –perhaps they were missing a father or mother, or had divorced parents, or just had ones that were away working all the time –to respect yet teach and encourage them to grow aright, thus they looked to their immoral behavior dress and actions to get them something, for inside their rough and rowdy exterior, their hearts had been broken and were aching with the void. Missing the family lot of life which ought to have been theirs, they needed attention, and got it from their crude appearance. The strange thing was that everyone was doing it! So many people dressed crudely, that it no longer got attention, for every rude woman looked alike to every other rude woman. All the girls in long hair and skirts attracted more attention accidently, then the others who were seeking out attention purposefully. Of course, this is not the reason we wear skirts and our hair long, but it does make you wonder. Christian morals benefit everyone, even non-Christians.
The highlight of our trip to Branson, for everyone I believe, was Sons of the Pioneers and Shepherd of the Hills. In case you have never heard of it, Shepherd of the Hills was originally a book by Harold Bell Wright from the 18 or 1900’s, about the life and people of the rugged Ozark mountains. The story stirred people so much, that they began to come into the deep Ozark hills to see the famed home site of ‘Old Matt’ and ‘Aunt Mollie’. After awhile an amphitheater was built, and so many people came that the auditorium grew to seat 1,500. For nearly forty years I believe, that place was packed full, and coming on weekdays was the only way to avoid a fraction of the crowd. Soon they added pony and horseback rides, inspiration tower & Vigilante Zip-line, general store, homestead tour and playground. Later, they added a pavilion for the Sons of the Pioneers Western singing group. This group was started in the 1930’s by Leonard Slye, Bob Nolan and Tim Spencer, who at first called themselves the Pioneer Trio, until adding Karl and Hugh Farr and Lloyd Perryman, they changed to Sons of the Pioneers. Their harmony and talent with instruments soon reached Hollywood, and together they made their first big movie appearance in 1936. Leonard Slye, who exchanged his title for his stage name, Roy Rogers, left the group he had founded to join Republic Pictures, and went on to act in some 100 cowboy films, earning the name ‘King of the Cowboys’. The Sons continued without him, and for nearly 50 years they had made a legend of their own.
But, while at the dinner show (they feed you a large meal during the Son’s performance) we began to notice it; hardly anyone was there. On the rows of perhaps 20 tables, only about five were filled, mostly of older people- I don’t remember seeing a single person that could’ve been under twenty. I wondered “What happened?” Only decades ago, movies like The Lone Ranger, The Roy Rogers Show, Gene Autry, Lassie, Daniel Boone, A Night to Remember, The Walton’s, Davy Crockett and simple cartoons such as Melody Time were the talk of the day, because they reflected the morals of the time. Though from the list I mentioned, none of these are particularly Christian viewing, they show what the time were like in the 1920s – into the early 1970s. In Daniel Boone, Jemima answered Israel’s question with ‘God made her that way’. In the Disney cartoon Melody Time, they pictured a slide show that ended with a tree in the shape of the Cross! In The Lone Ranger, he dared to quote a Bible verse. Can you imagine a modern movie actor referring to God or the Scriptures, without being in anyway derogatory? Not on your life! In all of the above movies, the following morals were clearly emphasized: Men protected women and children even at the cost of their own lives, and gave them the best off all they had- the home was a sweet, comforting place, always there to return to, and the honored women were strong women, who took care of the home and their husbands and children, and dressed generally in dresses and long hair. There are negatives in these films, and sometimes large ones; but they show a culture which is long gone.
At the Shepherd of the Hills performance, later that evening- we were struck again. Not only was this place practically empty too, but everything wore a look of neglect. The playground, which Mom remembered from childhood and which we children had been asking to visit ever since we first arrived in Branson, was overgrown and a sign announced ‘closed for the season’, meaning the winter season- but winter was long gone, and no work appeared to have been done on it yet. We were terribly disappointed! Yet, it goes on to show you what people have come to enjoy, that they are willing to let these nearly century-old amusements built by our fathers fall to rot for a lack of funding, and instead spend their money on soul-damaging arcades and up-to-date music.
Our trip stirred up something in me that had never been stirred before- I don’t know what you call it, but I had a strong feeling that there was something I could do to prevent the memory of the days long ago- the days that started this country, of the Pilgrims and Jamestown, and the tremendous suffering, starvation and sacrifice they went through- the days that our country proved itself strong, by the grace of God, at Yorktown and in 1812, the time thousands of men, women and children crossed that wide expanse of plains, rivers and forest, to spread out so that their children –we, their children—would have room to grow, and the days following that the great, courageous men drove thousands of herds of cattle and horses, to provide each for his own- or the time the strength and pride of this country was tried and true during the Civil War, or the World Wars, even Vietnam, or Desert Storm? Is America quite so far gone that there are none but the elderly that remember? As I said, sometimes I pace the room- thinking, wondering, a burden on my heart- feeling that I must, must do something, but wasn’t old enough- the only thing I feared was that waiting to be ‘old enough’ might be too long, for by then the forgetful teenagers of this generation will begin families of their own- and will train them as they have learned- to forget. Then I thought of my pen. I love to write stories, especially for young folks and children, and wondered if I might set my heart’s desire on paper; so it will be there for everyone to read, and to know; not locked inside me, to be buried with me when I die.
Must the American dream perish with our elderly, or will us younger and stronger generation strive, and fight, as our fathers have done for us, to preserve this memory- will we teach our children to forget, and thus allow them to be taken as captive to the ideas of other nations, and possibly lose the freedom we enjoy- or will we teach them to fight (spiritually against Satan’s attacks) for what is true and right, and keep our trust for the next generation?"
Even from the days of your fathers ye are gone away from mine ordinances, and have not kept them. Return unto me, and I will return unto you, SAITH THE LORD OF HOSTS. But ye said, wherein shall we return? Malachi 3:7
Don’t- Don’t, Oh please don’t ever, ever, ever forget.
