Sketches

While cleaning out boxes in our crawl space, I came across this old sketch book Grandma had given me. I absolutely love these pencil sketches. Joel and I are hoping to frame a couple of them as they are. 

A few of these she did while on Washington Island and include her notes from class...

This last page is my favorite! It is journal-like on her thoughts about a "friend" that was likely in her class. It reminds me so much of conversations we had about friendship leading up to the several years before cancer. She was nothing if not honest about her struggles with her friends. 

To be honest, I bet I have journal entries that resemble these exact thoughts. 

We had so much in common.

Lullo/Paterkiewicz/Carpenter Family Service Project: Feed My Starving Children

Though there was no text to accompany these pictures, I am not sure there should be. They speak for themselves.

And, I may have shed a few tears of joy. What a family we have.

This is what they participated in: http://www.fmsc.org/. I have participated in this in the past and it is a truly life-giving experience.

Burhan's Family Service Project: Kalamazoo Food Drive

In honor of my Grandma Carpenter and her passion for volunteerism, the tradition continues... All across the states, my aunts and uncles and cousins have volunteered in their communities during the holiday season instead of exchanging gifts with each other. Bill, Andrew, Rosie and I were lucky enough to be able to volunteer with our friends and family at the Kalamazoo Food Drive.

Andrew and Rosie were excited to see their cousin, Emily!

How appropriate - Rosie sorting her favorite food!

These guys were fast! Especially Bill and his boxes of beans!

We may have gotten separated a few times among the hundreds of volunteers, but we managed to find each other by the end!

Aunt Marty, Uncle Mark, Walter and Grandmom wrapping things up!

Lullo/McCarty Family Service Project: Cross-Cultural Ministries

As a part of our church small group, Kevin and I have the opportunity to partner with a group called Cross-Cultural Ministries.  As described on their website (http://www.ccmatlanta.org/), "Cross Cultural Ministries operates a non denominational center for children ages 5 to 18 who want to benefit from education and school subject tutoring in a Christian environment, various clubs, and family support."  We don't get to serve with them as often as we would like, so we were thrilled to have the opportunity to help them prepare for Christmas.  On Saturday December 14, Kevin and I spent several hours labeling, sorting, and preparing gifts for the children who participate in CCM's activities.  While we didn't get to see the joy on their faces as they received their gifts, we had a great time being the elves behind the scenes and imagining how loved and cared for they would feel when they received what would likely be the only presents under their trees.  

Dan and Cari Carpenter Family Service Project - The Carpenter Haunted Woods

Dan and I wanted to share our service project for 2013 :)  We help to run our local Superstar Social Club Jr. for elementary kids with special needs.  We hosted the October event at our house, which was The Carpenter Haunted Woods.  We had lots of volunteers come and help make the haunted tour through the woods memorable and fun and then provided hot dogs, S'mores, hay rides (minus the hay) and time to have a good time with peers with and without special needs.  It was our biggest event in 2013, with a total of about 80 people attending (kids+Sr. group+parents and sibs+ volunteers).  Lots of fun! 

Hintz's Family Service Project 2013 - Operation Christmas Child

Boxes for 2 little girls

Nora helping to choose a coloring book

Every Christmas for the last 3 years we have participated in a project
called "Operation Christmas Child." We fill boxes with toys and
toiletries and ship it off to a child in need. It has been an absolute
joy!

This year, Annabelle was at a wonderful age to understand and pick
things out herself. Nora, though she didn't understand, helped make
decisions.

Before leaving for the store, we had Annabelle watch 2 different
videos explaining what it is that we were participating in. She had
also learned a bit about it in Connectionland (her Sunday school). She
was very excited to pick out lots of girly things.

And boy did she. Some little girl is going to have an exploding heart
when she sees all the pink and girly things in her box. The sweetest
thing was when Annabelle insisted that both little girls have a
"blankie".

Picking out a baby to send along

Beauty

Coloring her picture

We came home and packed their boxes to overflowing. The girls then
colored pictures and Annabelle got to fill out a little worksheet with
information about herself to send to her "new friend". We then spent a
short moment praying for each of these little girls. It was an
unbelievably sweet moment.

Packing the boxes

Annabelle's favorites!

Box full of pink

Annabelle's completed picture

Nora's completed picture

Little sweetness praying for her "new friend"

We then chose to donate our shipping fees online so that we could see
where our boxes will end up. I look forward to explaining to the girls
where their boxes went. Annabelle was excited for a little girl who
might not get Christmas presents, to get Christmas presents.

It may not be much, but two little girls the ages of our little girls,
will know that someone in this world cares about them. We will
continue to pray for them this Christmas season. Annabelle may even
receive a letter back from her little girl.

And hopefully our girls, through this and other experiences, will
understand giving and service and humility.

Christmas note

The following is a note that Aunt Laurie found in her stash recently and gave out copies at the mass that was said for Grandma a few weekends ago. It seems that Grandma wrote it after Christmas one year when Jerry and Patrick were little.

____________________________

This business of words whether written or said,
is not very simple and they're stuffed in my head.

If I want them to do a good job and make clear,
our feelings and thoughts for the ones we hold dear.

I'll take time and weigh carefully each one, every word,
and make sure they're the ones that I want to be heard.

"Our Christmas was Great," says this pair of antiques,
this couple of sixties, whose joints always squeak.

Our dreams are much different more different each day,
"you'll know when your older," grown up all the way.

Telephones shared and trying some way,
to bring others home if for only one day.

Boomerangs, beer mugs, and trillions of toy and out in
the snow two rosy cheeked boys.

My annual heart to heart chat with our Chris,
Bob's box of goodies, some cheddar some swiss.

Our guest who's much taller, now looking back,
who must love us a lot cause she always comes back.

A whoop and a holler from the game watching guys,
some singing, some jigging, some tears in our eyes.

And a new Mrs. Santa, charmed the room as she sat,
and Santa got taller instead of more fat.

Vision of sugar plums are no longer needed,
Our Garden of Dreams is now thoroughly weeded.

Thanks for our Christmas, you loved ones where ever,
From a couple old elves who'll love you forever!

Love, Mom + Dad

Visiting Grandpa

Hours and hours of political news shows and the conversation is bound to come up.

See Annabelle and I just returned from a whirlwind trip to see Grandpa. A few highlights? Grandpa sitting on the floor with Annabelle multiple times even though he knew it was difficult for him to get back up. When I offered to help him, he said "when I can no longer get up from the floor by myself, I won't get down there." And I always forget about his sweet tooth. I doubt the muffins I left will make it past tomorrow (maybe because he kept calling them cupcakes, which would give anyone reason to eat them at any time of day).

My visits with Grandpa are never filled with lots of things to do, but good ol' fashioned relaxing. He talked about how much he looks forward to summer, Patrick getting married next summer, how proud he is at the success of each of his children, and always a little about Grandma.

But today, there was plenty of political news to keep us interested. Wisconsin is in the middle of serious political turmoil, and grandpa and I are not on the same team. We talked about Muslim radicals, and how he says he's seen every new ethnic group in America go through the scrutiny. First the Italians, then the Irish, and so on. He has a strong dislike for Lindsay Lohan. And he admitted he watched Fox news because the women on that channel are the most attractive.

He then pondered aloud how these women could be so beautiful AND smart. I left that one alone.

And then he brought up social security and Medicare. Things I truly haven't thought that much about. But his ability to articulate the issue was uncanny and I took the time to put aside any small thoughts I might have and just listen. We may not always agree, but, to be entirely honest, he is probably more educated and wise on so many of these topics.

anniversary

it seems odd to honor the anniversary of someone's death. grandma would probably think i was nuts. but as i looked back over the several posts made here around her death, i sit back and reminisce. she was a great friend. a friend i could use more than ever now.

she would have loved her. my annabelle. they would have been fast friends, even at the age of 8 months. it seems silly to somehow think about it, but it's true. i can almost picture them together. before she was born, grandma would have taken me to the yarn store to pick out yarn to make something cozy for her. then we would have gone to the italian coffee shop down the street, or for burgers at Fred's. and when annabelle was born, she would have kissed her little face and talked to her and told her how loved she was. and then we would have gone to love inc and picked out some things for her, while grandma introduced her to every person she had ever known, and even to people she didn't. i don't know how, but some way i will impart that love on my daughter.

i have an incredible legacy of women. my grandmother was the most uniquely loving person i know. she made everyone feel special and different and lovely. my mother is the most giving and wise woman i know. i trust her more than any other person, and rest comfortably in her words and love.

may i be that woman. myself, and yet with the beautiful characteristics of the women who have paved the way before me. and though i've said it before, it is worth repeating. annabelle is the most blessed little girl to have these women go before her.

Remembered favorite story

It wasn't long before Grandma was diagnosed that I remember sitting in the painting room and her telling me this story.

She had some paintings hanging in the gallery in Lake Geneva and was pretty excited when a doctor from Chicago saw her work, loved it, and asked to buy several pieces. She was elated (as we all know that Grandma loved the praise of her work). She quickly informed us all of this great news... she was finally finding the success she longed for. After figuring out how to show him the pieces and have them delivered to him, she ran into a friend.

This friend was excited too, she had just bought a piece of original Julie Carpenter artwork. Wow, now Grandma was flying high, but she was curious as to where this friend had found her work. The friend answered back... "I got it at Goodwill for only a few dollars!".

Grandma told me this through laughter... she truly believed that this was God's way of knocking her off the little pedastal she had built for herself.

I am grateful that she was so honest with me about her successes and her failures. This is something I see in the people she raised also. My mom is a prime example of someone who never tries to pretend that she doesn't make mistakes. One of the best lessons I could ever learn. Even though I don't have children, my mom and my grandma both taught me that inevitably I will make mistakes as a mother, and big ones, but that everyone does.

Cleaning out a closet

Today, as I was cleaning out a closet and lots of old papers, I found a few emails Grandma had written to me while I was in college. Some are even stories of her growing up. I thought it my duty to compile them on here so you could share in the stories with me.

4/18/99
Subject: Nothing special

Aha!! I now have someone that is interested in me and my life. You may be sorry you asked me to tell you about myself. I remembered something last week and decided I would tell you about it. When I was a little girl, we lived in the country. We were also very poor and I do not recall having toys. I had things I played with, crayons and a coloring book (that was a big day) but nothing I could class as a toy. Hard to believe, I'm sure, but true none the less. I did have one thing that many children growing up do not have, then or now. I had a cherry tree of my very own.
Me and my cherry tree spent many hours together, mostly in the summer. I learned to hang upside down by my knees and gradually from the tops of my feet. In that tree I became a circus performer, could see the neighbors house from the top, could see my Dad coming home from work (we had no car so he walked), could see my brothers and sisters coming from where ever. Under that tree my Dad put a ring of rocks and in the center he would build a fire at night. My favorite thing. He sat on the ground too. My brothers went to war and my sister married a sailor and left so my Dad and I spent the best part of the summers under the tree waiting for all of them to return.
We cooked anything my Mom would let us have. Mostly potatoes. We just put them in the coals and then when they were done, we rolled them out, waited until they were cool, broke them in half, added a little salt and oh my, the were the best.
The cherry tree always had plenty of fresh branches I could use for cooking, that's when we had stuff that you needed a stick for. Then I grew up a little and everyone came home form the war. Things were just different, I was different and they were different but the old cherry tree just stayed the same. Love, Grandma C.



Subject: Another tidbit from the book of Julie
5/14/99

I'm sitting at the computer with the window beside me open and the fresh evening air coming in. God is good.
During my growing up years, I really never realized how much my Dad knew. It seemed as though what he knew was so unimportant. What I considered important, he knew nothing of or at least made me believe he didn't.
At the time when my brothers were in the service during WWII and all over the world, my Dad had no one to go hunting with. Yes, we had guns in the house and the ammunition and yes, I knew how to shoot them. My sister was gone as she had married a sailor. I was therefore the only one left at home.
I think out of his sadness, he decided that I could go hunting with him to keep him company. He walked faster than I and I struggled to keep up. We hunted mostly in an area called Stratford Woods, a nice hike fro my own back yard. While we walked along, he had a keen eye for asparagus that grew in the early spring in Stratford Woods. You have to watch close or you won't see it. He would take out his pocket knife and cut enough for a large meal (always seemed to have a bag in his pocket ). We really didn't catch any pheasants or rabbits but we had a great walk. Personally, I thought I was a big shot. I wanted desperately to be loved by my Dad.
In the same woods, he took me hunting for mushrooms. When we came home, my Mom would put them to cook with a dime (yes 10 cents) in the water. If the dime turned black, we did not eat the mushrooms.
The early spring also meant dandelions. If you dig them before they bloom, the make the best salad in the world.
He also would resole out shoes. My grandfather worked as a millwright (leather worker) and he would bring sheets of leather out and my Dad would resole shoes by slipping them on an iron shoe form and cutting out around the shoe. He would then tack and glue. We definitely did not go barefoot.
We made our own root beer, sauerkraut and grew our own popcorn. Speaking of popcorn, one year a man gave my Dad a whole sack of corn seed. When you go anything free you made something of it. Nothing was thrown away. My Dad planted the whole sack thinking it was regular sweet corn. The whole field was popcorn. Boy was he mad. We shucked (someday I'll show you what that is) until my hands almost fell off. We kidded him for a long time. He did not like to hear it. Enough of this story. Amen. Love GC
Also, are you at all familiar with Lutheran Social Services. They do an incredible job. They have several offices in Wisconsin. Madison in particular. Maybe you should be a social worker?



Subj: Massive Apology
8/27/99
My dearest darlingest Katie,
I have been ignoring you all summer. I believe that since you were not at school, I could not email you. Sooooooo, I'm sorry. I plan on downloading all the emails I received and sent that you may be interested in... little by little.
My story for the day to you about me as a child is: ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL.

My brothers and sisters and I went to a very small country school whose teachers were Servite Nuns (an Italian order) very strict but good teachers. Our home was way out in the country so we had to walk to school (about 1 1/2 to 2 miles ). It really wasn't bad because all the kids that went there had to walk. Very few people in my home town had cars, certainly not us, we had enough trouble keeping food on the table.

Not far from the school, St. Domitilla's was a servite Seminary (like a college for priests). We had no church of our own so we went to church at the seminary. Just can't think of the name at the moment. I remember the smell, like flak soap, and also the beautiful marble floors. Always very clean with candles burning and nice and warm inside. I loved it there. The seminarians attended mass up above the alter where there were massive arches to look through. They would sing the hymns for mass in what is known as Gregorian chant. I think not long ago someone put out a CD of it. I loved the listen to them. The written music is done with squares, not ovals and as I recall there were only 4 lines, not five. Very different.
Since I was the youngest of 6, my brother who was 8 years older was my caretaker (or whatever) on the way to and from school. Well!!! after we got out of sight of our house, he made me walk way behind so that I couldn't hear what he and his friends were talking about. But I heard anyway. It was GIRLS!!!!
We carried lunches wrapped in newspaper as we could not afford bags. I was always jealous of the kids with the nice neat bologna in the sandwiches and the neat twinkies, while we carried roast beef on lumpy homemade bread and the old sloppy homemade from scratch apple pie. I guess its all a matter of how you look at things!!!!
Well enough for that story. I'll try and remember the name of the seminary. Love you very much my Kate. Grandma C.
Just remember, Mater Dolorosa. Kind of Italian would you say, especially since most of the people in town were Irish, O'Shaunessy, Dwyer, Murray, O'Brien, Coleman, O'Rourke, etc.


Subject: RE: Massive Apology
9/7/99

I think my next story will be what I experienced when WWII started. I must have been about 8 or 9. Things certainly changed very quickly, it seemed like overnight. Actually, it was. On the evening of December 7th, a Sunday, I was sitting at the table in our dining room doing my homework. I twas evening and we had had our Sunday dinner. We were all listening to the radio, a small one on the top of a table in our dining room. My Dad was reading the Sunday paper, he used to rad i cover to cover every day. We had the programs on that everyone listen to, the Burns and Allen Show, The Shadow, Jack Benny, etc. Very suddenly, there was a break in the programming to announce a bulletin. The announcer said that the Japanese air force had bombed Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. There was no forewarning, we were not even having a problem with them, at least the general public knew nothing about it. We were at peace, recovering form the depression, our military was at its lowest, and the population was lulled into believing we had already com through the worst of times.
I recall my Father looking at my Mother and neither knowing what to say or think. The whole thing was pretty unreal as though you didn't hear it right, you needed it repeated.
It was a turning point in my life and in the lives of everyone in my family. We were never the same.
More later. Love GC

Julie Carpenter Memorial Art Show

Julie Carpenter Memorial Art Show
The late Julie Carpenter, a remarkably talented Burlington artist, will be remembered by fellow artists with a memorial art show for the public on Saturday and Sunday, Dec. 6 and 7. The show will be in the Riverbirch Gallery, 7231 McHenry St., Burlington, next to the Bohners Lake fire station. Hours on Saturday are 1 to 5 p.m., and Sunday from 1 to 4 p.m.
Carpenter’s family has generously offered to display some of Julie’s watercolor prints in the show. Paintings by her friends from The Gatherings will also be on display. A percentage of any sales will go into a newly established fund to support art in the community, a project Julie would surely approve.
Carpenter was an advocate for the arts in Burlington. She worked tirelessly for Love Inc. and for the Burlington Area Arts Council. She organized some of her artist friends to paint together weekly. The group is known as The Gathering. Julie was their mentor. She shared her artistic knowledge with them by demonstrating new techniques and by helping them to become better artists through the critiques at the end of each painting session. She presented an annual art show benefit for Love, Inc., using art work by members of The Gathering, but she always remained behind the scenes and refused to take credit for her work.
It was not Julie’s way to brag of her accomplishments, but she held a degree from DePaul University and had had a successful career in banking before she retired and began painting seriously. She studied under some very fine artists, and her paintings were displayed in the Schauer Center for Visual and Performing Arts, Hartford, and in Kenosha at the Anderson Art Center, and well as locally. One of her works hangs in the Sinai Samaritan Hospital women’s cancer unit.
Carpenter was inspired by nature and she liked to use minimum control of the paint and water as they flowed across the paper. She considered her winter scenes her best, but her friends agree that her flowers were spectacular.
This lovely lady continued to paint with her friends until her illness made it impossible, but she left her mark on this community. Those who own a Julie Carpenter painting cherish her and her creative art work.

Alyse's wonderful words

Check out Alyse's thoughts. I appreciate all these words!


http://alyseliebovich.blogspot.com/2008/03/in-memory-of-julie-carpenter-1932-2008.html

The Journal Times

Sara just emailed me a link to this page where people have been compiling their memories of Grandma. So nice to know that others love her with the same passion that I do. I didn't want to lose these words, so I thought I would post them here so we would not forget that there were friends who loved her too.

You might need a tissue for this! :)



Remembering Julie Carpenter
Posted by: Mike Moore on March 13, 2008 at 4:34PM EST

This post was compiled by those who knew Julie Carpenter, who died last week:

I met Julie Carpenter while we were lying side by side on treatment tables at the chiropractor. I noticed the beautiful watercolor sitting next to her & told her my then, 91-year old, mother just moved in with us and also was a watercolorist. Julie invited us to join The Gathering, an artist open studio that met weekly to paint, share, and enjoy art together. This was my introduction to watercolor and it also gave my mother a wonderful outlet to continue her artistic growth and meet new friends. If it were not for Julie’s inspiration & leadership of this group, I would never have become an artist. She was also an absolute blessing for my mother, now going on 95, who paints 10 to 14 hours a day. My mother, Jane Lenz, said it best, “once you met her, you knew you would be friends forever”.
Julie was a “giver”. She taught in everything she did. She would always do a demonstration or two at every painting session. She also encouraged those of us who were “beginners” to share what we were learning, allowing us also to contribute. She always said she was not the “leader” or “head” of our group, but we all knew better. She was the ultimate leader and mentor. Her sense of fairness, and uncanny ability to know & understand what was right for our group was astounding. We always deferred to her knowing she knew best.
Aside from being a wonderful mentor for our artistic lives, Julie was also a role model for the rest of our lives. Her volunteer work inspired all of us to share our good fortune and give back to the community for our many blessings. In particular, Julie showed us how to live and die with cancer. Dignity is an often used word, but Julie personified it.
We miss her dearly. When we look at a beautiful sunset or landscape, be assured that Julie and our friend Ken Weeden, who also passed this winter, had a hand in choosing the colors. We also look to their guidance from above to continue on with the work we do through the Gathering.
Judi Greenwood and Jane LenzBurlington
--------------------------------------------------------------------
We had the privilege of meeting Julie at The Gathering's first Miniature Art Show shortly before she was diagnosed. Upon hearing of our interest in art and, knowing we had no background or experience in it and had just begun taking watercolor classes, Julie invited us to participate in The Gathering's weekly painting sessions. Realizing how intimidating it could be in the company of talented artists, it was Julie's enthusiasm that convinced us to join the Group. It was Julie's passion for art and all of life's beauty that inspired her to form The Gathering to give 'artists' like us the opportunity to share and learn from each other. We have Julie tothank for the inspiration and encouragement she has given us, and for introducing us to a wonderful group of people who have become our friends and mentors.Marcy & Dick GayRochester
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I admired Julie's talent as an artist and her generosity in sharing her talent with everyone. I'll never forget watching Julie help her young neighbor boy with his painting skills and the painting demonstrations she did for the benefit of all of us who came to 'The Gathering'. Julie used her time to help others by organizing 'The Gathering' for people who enjoy painting and although she always said she was not our 'leader', she provided the leadership that was invaluable.
Julie also gave her time to others by working at Love, Inc. where she helped those less fortunate in the community.
And Julie found ways to help her family cope with and understand Autism, which afflicts her grand-daughter.
I feel sad that Julie has left us too soon, but glad that she left us with good memories and qualities to which we can all aspire.
Kay PricePark City, Utah------------------------------------------------------
Julie was my mentor.
She was a true blessing in my life she helped me to discover a hidden talent within myself and encouraged me to continue and to share that talent with others who wanted to paint and those who just wanted to enjoy art.
Julie’s life besides family was art and she wanted to share her gift to the world
And she did that by forming a group called The Gathering which brought all of us artists together not only for Art and sharing but for lifetime friendships.
Thank You Girlfriend……..
Ps Knowing Julie I‘m sure she met up with other Great artist we lost in 2007 Ken Weeden and they starting The Heavenly Gathering.
Save us some seats in the future!
Geri BradyBurlington
------------------------------------------------------------
Julie was a wonderfully talented artist, but it was her modesty and generosity that impressed me. Most friends know nothing of her career as an executive in the banking world. Julie quietly volunteered at Love, Inc. She formed The Gathering, a workshop for artists, where she freely shared her expertise with those not as skilled. Then she recruited those artists to donate paintings for Love, Inc. benefits. Julie purposely remained behind the scenes, the mark of a true lady.
Vera FroschBurlington
---------------------------------------------------------
Always ready to teach someone a new technique, from a humble standpoint.
Always encouraging someone to "just do it", and to do their best.
Always "up", even after the bad news about her health.
Always willing to go the extra mile for a good cause.
Always ready to share whatever she had.
Always ready to listen.
Always positive.
I will miss her dearly.
Sue AlbyBurlington
------------------------------------------------------
I find it hard to put in a few words what friendship with Julie meant to me. Anyway--that dear lady can be remembered for many things in our community. And what a spirit she had! She was the quintessential entrepreneur and because of that talent our open studio " The Gathering" thrived. The words, "hard work, artistic talent, caring", all easily come to mind, but for me personally I will always remember Julie's unfailing generosity, and the wonderful comfort and joy of our Friday morning "spiritual coffees" at "Veronico's". She will always live in my heart.
Marilyn AhlerLyons
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Julie Carpenter's funeral was beautiful in it's simplicity and reverence; but sad in it's necessity.
Julie's accomplishments were many, and she did them all with love and dedication. Art was her love, but her passion was the artists. That passion developed into "The Gathering", an accumulation of artist and artist wannabe's brought together to paint and share the knowledge and magic of paint, paper and water.
She so wanted to see Burlington have an art gallery/workshop studio. She wrote letters to the City officials, and was saddened by the fact that not one replied - no letter, no phone calls. But she never gave up the dream.
And so we persevere without our mentor, our force, our leader. But, we will go on and "The Gathering" will continue the magic.
Nancy Welch
Burlington, WI
---------------------------------------------------------------
I feel such a loss. I was looking for inspiration among my photos the other day, and came across an envelope with photos of Julie and I that had been taken at some of the classes we had taken together. I think I cried looking at them. It was the day she died although I did not know it at the time. Maybe she was telling me she was still around in all our hearts. I know she will not be forgotten in mine.How nice that so many people came to the funeral. I was inspired by her example to push for a painting group here, and we now have a small one in the basement of one of the churches. So far about 5 people come on a regular basis, and we do a lot of painting. We pass on tips to each other and have a great time. A small group is fun although it is too small if a couple cannot come for one reason or another.I also have a couple of the little paintings that we did at workshops and she gave me. One was done at Pat Nortons class where she became re-inspired after returning from Chung kai kees class and was sure she could not paint any more. I remember her on her hands and knees under the table splashing paint about and really enjoying the experience. We both had a good laugh about that and talk of it often in later groups. Funny how little things can mean so much.Heddys StevensonSault Ste Marie, Ont, Canada

Carrie's finds (emails from the vaults)

Written June 25, 2006

The paragraph of my life!!! Will look for books for you. I love to do it. Makes me feel valuable. Love, GC

From C. S. Lewis, " Yielding to a Pursuing God".

" The Christian doctrine of suffering explains, I believe, a very curious fact about the world we live in. The settled happiness and security which we all desire, God withholds from us by the very nature of the world: but joy, pleasure , and merriment He has scattered broadcast. We are never safe, but we have plenty of fun, and some ecstasy. It is not hard to see why. The security we crave would teach us to rest in this world and pose an obstacle to our return to God: a few moments of happy love, a landscape, a symphony, a merry meeting with friends, a date or a football match, have no such tendency. Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some pleasant inns, but will not encourage us to mistake them for home."


Written Oct. 4th, 2006

Carrie, Here is a prayer I wrote a long time ago.
Thought you might get a kick out of it. GC

When I pray in the morning
and ask the Lord what chores He has for me,
I always forget that what's in the present moment is the answer.
What He wants is right there before me.
It would help though, if He would just send me an email.
As soon as I say, thy will be done......off I go
As I tear through life and tear I do,
I hope and pray that it is what He wants.
At the end of this road
As I run toward heavens gate
With my clothes tattered and torn
My knees all skinned up
Huffing and puffing and my hair all eskew
The Lord will meet me and I will say,
Did I do ok
and He will pat me on the head and tell me
You did just fine.

Adrienne's and Dan's thoughts

When I think of Grandma Carpenter, I think of kindness and support.

I think of kindness because I can’t think of a cruel word she’s ever spoken. Criticism - yes, but harshness - no. Always wanting to push me to do my best, she never held back her point of view for my improvement. I remember on many occasions giving her some drawings or paintings I had done and she made it her duty to study them and find my flaws – not to humiliate me, but so that I could be aware of their presence. Then, she would show me new techniques for shading, texturing, etc. She would proudly display her won artwork and tell me of her experiments and things her teacher had taught her. I remember being stunned several times to hear that someone who had been painting so long still had a teacher. Thus, I was humbled and encouraged further. This isn’t to say the criticism never hurt, but it’s far better than never maturing or realizing your flaws.

I also think of support because I knew she believed in me. I know this because she bothered to study my artwork at all, and also (most importantly) because of the care packages she sent. For years, I received boxes of paint, charcoal pencils, drawing pads, instruction books, brushes and some of her own paintings. Again, she would never have done this if she hadn’t believed in me, and when I got discouraged or if someone hated my work, this was often the push that kept me trying again.

I grew up with these nuggets of her personality in my heart and mind, but I saw her in a new light only three years ago. Dan, Elisha and I went to Grandpa and Grandma’s house for Christmas, and we all sat around in their living room opening presents. Grandma sat on the fireplace hearth watching all of us open our gifts. She waited until we were done to start opening hers. As she did, everyone stopped what they were doing to watch her. We were all seated in a semi-circle around her, most of us on the floor looking up at her. And as she was the focal point, I remember thinking to myself that she had ascended to a place of being a beloved matriarch. I felt myself long to be precisely where she was at that moment (in about fifty years).
- Adrienne Michelson

When I think of Grandma Carpenter, I’m just very thankful to have known her for the short time that I did. I liked simply sitting around her kitchen having good conversations. I loved hearing her stories. Her art always made me appreciate a simpler life. She left us a legacy that we can look up to.
- Dan Michelson

Anne's thoughts

Grandma taught me to love poetry before I learned to hate it and learned to love it again, and she had no idea. I couldn't have been more than 10, and I loved to look through all the books on her bookshelf. One little book, a battered little thing with ugly woodcut drawings for pictures, came to continually fascinate me. It was Francis Thompson's "Hound of Heaven," and I loved the words without understanding them, read them over and over, tried to trace them in my memory. Little did I know how this poem would capture my relationship with God and that I needed to live the words to understand them. Grandma noticed my fascination with the book one day and told me to keep it. I didn't understand the importance of the event until later and she didn't realize the depth of this interchange, either. But that was her. She gave without manipulating the results.

Beth's thoughts

It is hard for me to pick a single story that can in any way summarize the relationship that I had with Grandma. It was the little things that always made me feel special. Grandma made me feel loved every time that I spoke with her and saw her. She knew just what to say to make me feel like I was succeeding, no matter how much I struggled with what to do with my life. She always told me that she loved me, was glad I was happy, and most of all, that she was proud of everything that I did. I always knew how much she loved me, because Grandma made a point of telling me that every time she got the chance.

Beth Carpenter

Patrick's thoughts

"Draw What You See"

I’ll never forget my confusion upon reading that quote. While I appreciated the sketchbook that my grandmother had given me, I couldn’t understand the meaning behind those words. Wasn’t art supposed to be about imagination- the projection of dreams onto an otherwise uninteresting reality? Nevertheless, I followed the advice of my artistic mentor and began to replicate everyday objects on the blank pages of my book. Although my days as a young artist have long since past, the lessons my grandmother imparted to me continue to reside in my heart. Now, as I reflect on those days, I think I have a better sense of what she meant by "Draw What You See." Art, in its purest form, is about seeing the beauty in all things- even the seemingly mundane. It was this skill that made my grandma who she was- a gifted artist, but more importantly, a loving human being.

Sara's thoughts

I have so many memories and lessons learned from Grandma. I looked up to her, admired her and just loved being in her company. I could tell lots of great stories, but I’m going to share just two of my favorite.

Red Rose Tea
I will always associate Red Rose Tea with Grandma. When I was about 10 years old, I started going to my Grandma’s house on Saturday mornings. She was working at the time, so Saturday was cleaning day, and I would come help. We would chat all the while we were dusting, washing floors and doing dishes. Then, when we needed a break, Grandma would make Red Rose Tea and we would sit by the fireplace drinking tea out of pretty tea cups. That image of us sitting in front of the fireplace drinking tea is one of the images that come to my mind whenever I think of her.

Sleepovers with my "Cool Grandma"
My best friend growing up in Crystal Lake was Megan. She was like another member of my family. And, we loved having sleepovers at Grandma’s house. Grandma got right into it like she was a teenage girl, too. We’d watch movies and eat junk food and laugh. One particular night, she had let us pick the movie to rent and we chose Silence of the Lambs. I remember Grandma looking at it and saying, "I like Anthony Hopkins. He’s a good actor, so I’ll bet this is good." Little did she realize that she would be curled up on the side of her bed, peeking over the edge, shocked at the gruesome movie. She watched the whole thing, though. She kept saying, "I’m a cool Grandma. I can handle this!" She sure was!!
So much of who she has been has shaped the kind of person that I want to be. She was an individual. She was a wife, a mother, an artist, an entrepreneur, a student, a teacher, a volunteer and more.

Sara Burhans