The Young Ladies Magazine
August – September 2013
A Letter from the
Editor:
Dear
Young Ladies,
I would like to
make an appeal to all the young writers out there.
This magazine was
started for the purpose of allowing young poets and writers to exhibit their
creative art. It was designed for the sole goal of seeing young women become the
artists they were called to be. As this magazine is experiencing new changes, I
would encourage you young women reading this issue, to not inhibit the talents
that have doubtless been bestowed upon you.
Let us, as a
unified body of creative minds, not shy away from the opportunities that are
brought before us. There is no end to the good that your pens may do
Ladies! Perhaps even in the simple use
of this periodical, the great minds of tomorrow may find the first breath of
inspiration.
Therefore, do not
lose heart my young friends in whatever you are doing! Persevere in the talents
that God has given you, and use this time of your life to better them.
In this I leave
you dear readers,
Yours Truly,
Ms. Lindsay D.
Miles
Chapter
One: Stories from Our Readers
Chapter
Two: Wisdom from Our Mothers
Chapter
Three: Collection of Poems
Chapter
Four: Delicious Dishes
Chapter
Five: Potpourri of Thoughts
Chapter One: Stories from Our Readers
Notes in Blue
By
Sabrina Thames
The journal of a young
girl
August
8th, 1990 - Thursday
Dear Journal,
I just need to
tell you the most wonderful things that have happened to me! Oh- there is so
much to tell that I will have to limit things just a smidge.
Now, God, as you
know, has really been helping me of late to be more selfless and to be a better
friend. But I wasn’t doing so well on either of those things at all. I never
really talked to God about it either, or truly repented and looked through my
soul as I should have. Anyway, it all started the Sunday that my Uncle Joe came
to visit my family here in Dusty Springs, Idaho. The Sunday he came was a
sweltering 90 degrees, and we went to church feeling sticky with the sweat
pouring down our faces. All I could think of during the sermon was how
miserably hot I was, and how much I wanted to jump into our pool in the
backyard! I was so absorbed in myself
and my discomfort that I never even visited with Uncle Joe or any of my friends
after the service. Most of them I hadn’t seen in quite a while, and even though
they were eager to talk to me, I was only eager to go home. I was so selfish
and isolated from everyone that when my older brother Mark asked me why I was
so rude at church that day I just ran to my room and cried. I had my own little
pity-party on the coverlet of my bed, and hid from the glares of my brothers
and sisters. Tears, Selfishness, and Self- Justification were invited to my
party of course, but there certainly was no Joy or Humility.
Needless to say I
got a good oral spanking from my brother when he found me- and I don’t need to
tell you what he told me, but I can assure you I was all awakened and inwardly
raw by the time it was over. I fled to the big red barn beside our farmhouse
and found my secret spot close by it. Just behind the barn is a large water
barrel close to the edge of the forest by our acreage. There is an old piece of
wood sitting on top of the barrel that had been my hideaway throne since I was
a child. I climbed up onto the barrel
and seated myself on the splintering wood.
Now- sitting from
that height and angle gives you a sweet view of the side on the forest. If you
look up you can see the last rays of the setting sun being draped like a golden
mist over the trees and bushes around. A few gaps in the tree branches exposed
the rich blue sky, and the birds twittered in the warm, summer-sweet breezes
that wafted around me.
I felt an
overwhelming desire to talk to God in that peaceful place. Just the incredible
awe of the golden world around me made me feel like God’s presence was so near
to me there. And it was a sweet but burning sensation as the sun’s rays slept
on my face, almost like the gaze of God.
So I poured out my
heart to God right then and there. All of my soul was put before Him, and I
asked Him for mercy and a fresh start. I repented and asked God to cleanse me
of my selfishness. Everything was placed on His lap and whispered in His ear
during the last few moments of that dreadful day. And once the tinted face of
the sunset had split the fading blue of the evening sky, I became at peace. I
just know that God washed me out through and through, and I am going to work so
hard now to not be such a rude and selfish girl. The next time I am tempted to
allow my selfishness to penetrate my heart, I am going to trust God to keep the
tower strong, and to strengthen the bond I made today behind the barn. And do
you know I really feel like I am ready for any battle with God beside me!
I have to go now~
You’re Friend,
Ellie
Christiansen
Chapter 2: Wisdom from our Mothers
Trusting
God
Written
by Mrs. Rhonda Miles
~^~
Hello Young Ladies!
I am so glad for the privilege of speaking with you all. I was recently reminiscing with my daughter,
Lindsay, on some decisions I made when I was her age. I was reflecting on a
particularly difficult decision I had to make. My Choice was whether to follow
my convictions or to choose the easier, more common path. You see, I had a
conviction to not date but instead to allow the Lord to move on my behalf in a
courtship situation. This would stop the date and break up cycle that I had already
experienced in my past.
Well,
one day my room-mate told me that a young man who I had been very interested in
had asked her if I would go out with him. He was not in our church and didn’t
know me well enough to know my convictions in this area. She told him that I didn’t date and left it
at that. I was desperately struggling with the urge to tell her to tell him
some ways to get around my conviction or at least tell him I was interested in
him. I began sorting through several thoughts during this struggle. The first
was the fact that I wouldn’t have been interested in him if he had not
respected my conviction to not date and had tried to get around it. The second
was that if I had this conviction and threw it out at the first obstacle or
temptation, what good was it? It reminds me of a line from Jane Eyre where Jane
says, “Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation;
they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against
their rigor; stringent are they; inviolate they shall be. If at my individual
convenience I might break them, what would be their worth?”
I really looked at
this picture for the first time putting myself on the swing. Here was this girl
swinging with joy and abandon while the Lord was holding the ropes with his
fingers. Was I able to do that in this case? Could I trust in Him to provide me
with the husband I needed without my interference? Did I really believe He
would?
I did wait. The young man honored my
convictions and never tried to pursue anything with me. Two years later I
married the love of my life. We have been married for 21 blessed years and have
never stopped serving the Lord together. Even though I wanted to take matters into
my own hands, the Lord reminded me to trust Him. Trust Him not just timidly,
shyly hoping for some good result; but to trust Him with abandon.
Through the years of walking with Him,
the Lord has given me many more opportunities to put my trust in Him. Though
the choices have never been easy, when I chose to trust Him entirely, He never
left me disappointed.
“Trust in the Lord
with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways
acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6
~^~
“The King’s
Daughter”
(From the book “The
King’s Daughter”)
-Author unknown
“I wish I were a princess!”
Emma stood with the dust brush in her hand,
pausing on her way upstairs to her own pretty little white room,
which
she was required to put in order every day.
“Why, my child?” asked her mother. “Because
then I would never have to sweep and dust and make beds, but would have plenty
of servants to do these things for me.”
“That
is a very foolish wish, my daughter, but even if you were a princess, I think
you would find it best to learn how to do these things, so that you could do
them in case of necessity.”
“But
it is never necessary for princesses to work.”
“There
my little girl proves her ignorance. If she will come to me after her work is
done, I will show her a picture.”
The
little bedroom was at length put to rights, and Emma came to her mother,
reminding her of her promise about the picture.
“What
do you see, my child?” her as she laid the picture before her d
Daughter.
“I
see a young girl with her dress fastened up, an apron on, and a broom in her
hand.”
“Can
you tell me what kind of place she is in?”
“I
do not know. There are walls and arches of stone, and a bare stone floor. I
don’t think it can be a pleasant place.”
“No,
it is not. It is a prison, and the young girl is a king’s daughter.”
“A king’s daughter!”
“Yes; and her story is a very sad one.”
“Please tell me about her.”
“Many
years ago the king of France was Louis XVI., and his wife was Marie Antoinette.
They were not a wicked king and queen, but they were thoughtless and fond of
pleasure.
“They forgot that it was their duty to
look after the good of their people; so they spent money extravagantly in their
own pleasures, while the whole nation was suffering.
“The people became dissatisfied; and
when, finally, Louis and Marie Antoinette saw the mistake they had been making,
and tried to change their conduct, it was too late.
“The people, urged on by their leaders,
learned to hate the king and queen. They were taken, with their two children,
and shut up in a prison called the Temple.
“There were dreadful times in France then,
and everyone who was suspected of being friendly to the king and queen was sent
to prison and to the guillotine. The prisoners in the Temple passed the time as
best they could.
“The king gave lessons to his son and
daughter every day, or read aloud to them all, while Marie Antoinette, Madame
Elizabeth, and the young Marie Therese sewed.
“After awhile the angry people took away
the king and beheaded him. And shortly after the little son was separated from
his mother, sister, and aunt, and shut up by himself in the charge of a cruel
jailor.
“Next it was Marie Antoinette’s turn to
ascend the scaffold, which she did October 16, 1793. Her daughter, Marie
Therese, was then left alone with her aunt, the Madame Elizabeth.
“But it was not long she was allowed this
companionship. Madame Elizabeth was taken away and beheaded, and then the poor
young girl of sixteen was left entirely by herself in a dismal prison, guarded
and waited on by brutal soldiers.
“For a year and a half she lived thus,
leading the most wretched existence, and not knowing whether her mother and
aunt were alive or dead. Years afterward when she was free, when wrote about
her life in prison. In that we read: ---- “I only asked for the simple
necessities of life, and these they often harshly refused me. I was, however,
enabled to keep myself clean. I had at least soap and water, and I wept out my
room every day.”
“So here in the picture you see a king’s
daughter, and the granddaughter of an empress (Marie Theresa of Austria, one of
the most remarkable women in history), after having carefully made her toilet,
sweeping the bare stone floor of her cell.
“Which do you think caused her the most
satisfaction in those dark days of trial: the remembrance that she was the
daughter of a king? Or the knowledge of domestic duties, which she had probable
learned while she was a happy, envied princess, living in a palace and
surrounded by a great many servants!”
“Is that a true story?”
“Yes, Emma, every word of it; and there
is much, much more of it that I cannot tell you now.”
“What became of her at last?”
“She was finally released from prison,
and sent to Austria to her mother’s friends; but it was a full year after she
reached Vienna before she smiled; and though she lived to be seventy years old,
she never forgot the terrible sufferings of her prison life.
“But, my child, what I wish to teach you
is, hat though it is sometimes very pleasant to be a princess, it may be most
unfortunate at other times. But always remember, my dear girl that knowledge of
housekeeping never comes amiss, and every young woman, no matter what the
circumstances are, will be far happier and more useful for possessing that
knowledge.”
Children do not always comprehend
everything at once; so I will not say that Emma soon learned to take delight in
dusting and sweeping. But bear in mind that that woman is the most queenly, who
uses her wisdom and her strength for the benefit of those around her, shrinking
from no duty that she should perform, but doing it cheerfully and well.
“A Valuable Secret”
“Sarah,
I wish you would lend me your thimble. I can never find mine when I want it.”
“Why cannot you find it, Mary?”
“If you do not choose to lend me yours, I
can borrow of somebody else.”
“I am willing to lend it to you, Mary. Here
it is.”
“I knew you would let me have it.”
“Why do you always come to me to borrow
when you have lost anything, Mary?”
“Because you never lose your things, and
always know where to find them.”
“How do you suppose I always know where to
find my things?”
“I am sure I cannot tell. If I knew, I
might, perhaps, sometimes contrive to find my own.”
“This is the secret. I have a place for
everything, and after I have done using anything, it is my rule to put it away
in its proper place.”
“Yes, just as though your life depended on
it.”
“My life does not depend upon it Mary, but
my convenience does very much.”
“Well, I never can find time to put my
things away.”
“How much more time will it take to put a
thing away in its proper place, than it will be to hunt after it, when it is
lost?”
“Well, I’ll never borrow of you again, you
may depend on it.”
“Why? You are not offended, Mary, I hope!”
“Oh no, Sarah. But I am ashamed that I have
been so careless and disorderly, and now resolve to do as you do, to have a
place for everything, and everything in its place.”
“Well, Mary, this is a good resolution and
will be easily carried out, if you bear in mind that, ‘Heaven’s first law is
order.’”
True
worth is in being, not seeming -----
In
doing each day that goes by
Some
little good ---- not in dreaming
Of
great things to do by-and-by.
We
cannot make bargains for blisses,
Nor
catch them, like fishes, in nets;
And
sometimes the thing our life misses
Helps
more than the good that it gets.
Chapter Three:
Collection of Poetry
“On the Wharph
at Midnight”
‘In
sullen mists the twilight lays
Its
arms portending towards the night.
Against
the moonlit coal-black skies,
A
single star shines in its flight.
No
bird-song rings within the air,
No
glittering streak of light beams forth.
In
silence reigns the western star,
And
gentle waves crash on the warph.
The
silver stars like sentinels stay
Above
the tipped and somber moon-
Aroused,
the water dwellers play,
Their
fringed white capes are dipped in foam.
Beneath
the rugged cliffs that guard-
The
azure depths that lay abreast,
An
echoed murmuring is heard-
A
somber song from the water’s nest-
And
here I stand, my face greets oe’re
The
aching of the mermaid’s tide-
A
mourning wail wafts nigh the shore
The
knell of love my heart must hide.
Oh!
- Ache ye must sweet ebony sea,
For
love, like foam may vanish soon.
And
here in black-round ribbon aye,
My
head bears mark the bud of boon.
Aye,
had he not have crossed the sea
To
quell the war-song far that rung-
‘Twould
still beside me with love-song be,
And
not on foreign sod, dead, flung.
Oh-
torrent! Break, and break, my heart!
Must
in its somber chamber lie-
As
dead as night that bears the start
Of
Lover’s knots and boons- they die.
But
love, tis pungent-sweet the memory!
But
bitter, hollow in Phillip’s grave.
The
love-warm blush I bore while courting,
Twas
buried by some Syrian knave.
Thus
stand I here, my fate to wander-
The
hope that when I dead may lie,
My
Phillip’s soul may, sweet surround me,
That
forever in his smile I’ll bide.
The
warph song rings within my hearing,
Somber,
sweet, and cold, I trow;
The
sea-tide splashes hard and biting,
Sprays
of water cool my brow.
A
wailing midnight sea-bird singer,
Mourns
a weary, ringing tune,
The
sea-spray hums, and on the heather
Sleeps
a lone and shivering Loon.
The
moon in garments white by ages,
High
above the sea shines oft.
The
hours fly in their patterned stages,
The
wharph’s sea breezes rustle soft.
Cold
the winds that brush the rock cliff-
Chill
the crashing waters play.
And
stand I here now ever, and ever,
Too
soon the night will greet the day.
~ Lindsay Miles
Excerpts from
“The Bridal of Triermain”
Come, Lucy!
While ‘tis morning hour,
The woodland
brook we needs must pass:
So, ere the
sun assume his power,
We shelter
in our polar bower,
Where the
dew lies long upon the flower,
Though
vanished from the velvet grass.
Curbing the
stream, the stony ridge
May serve us
for a sylvan bridge;
For here
compelled to disunite,
Round petty
isles the runnels glide,
And chafing
off their puny spite,
The shallow
murmurs waste their might,
Yielding to
footstep free and light
A dry-shod
pass from side to side.
Nay, why
this hesitating pause?
And, Lucy,
as thy step withdraws,
Why sidelong
eye the streamlet’s brim?
Titania’s
foot without a slip,
Like thine,
though timid, light, and slim,
From stone
to stone might safely trip,
Nor risk the
glow-worm clasp to dip
That binds
her slipper’s silken rim.
Or trust thy
lover’s strength: nor fear
That this
same stalwart arm of mine,
Which could
you oak’s prone trunk uprear,
Shall shrink
beneath the burden dear
Of form so
slender, light, and fine-
So, -- now,
the danger dared at last,
Look back,
and smile at perils past.
And now we
reach the favorite glade,
Paled in by
copse wood, cliff, and stone,
Where never
harsher sounds invade,
To break
affection’s whispering tone,
That deep
breeze that wave the shade,
Than the
small brooklets’ feeble moan.
How Lucy of
the lofty eye,
Noble in
birth, in fortunes high,
She for whom
lords and barons sigh,
Mets her
poor Arthur in the dale.
My sword-
tis master must be dumb;
But, when a
soldier names my name,
Approach, my
Lucy! Fearless come,
Nor dread to
hear of Arthur’s shame.
My heart—mid
all you courtly crew,
Of lordly
rank and lofty line,
Is there to
love and honor true,
That boasts
a pulse so warm as mine?
They praised
thy diamond’s luster rare---
Matched with
thine eyes, I thought it faded;
They praised
the pearls that bound thy hair---
I only saw
the locks they braided;
They talk of
wealthy dower and land,
And titles
of high birth the token---
I thought of
Lucy’s heart and hand,
Nor knew the
sense of what was spoken.
And yet, if
ranked in Fortune’s roll,
I might have
learned their choice unwise,
Who rate the
dower above the soul --
And Lucy’s
diamonds o’re her eyes.
How many
better born are slaves
To such
sweet joys as these, ---
Dead to the
nobler scene that glows
When
Nature’s grander scenes unclose!
But, Lucy,
we will love them yet,
The
mountain’s misty coronet,
The greenwood,
and the world;
Nor love
them less, that o’re the hill
The summer
breeze, as now, comes chill; ---
My love
shall wrap her warm,
And,
fearless of the slippery way,
While safe
she trips the healthy brae,
Shall hang
on Arthur’s arm.
---
Sir Walter Scott
Chapter Four: Delicious Dishes
Moist Meat Loaves
Yield: 4 loaves (6
servings each
8 eggs lightly beaten 2-2/3
cups milk
6 cups (24 oz.) shredded cheddar
cheese 12 slices white bread, cubed
2 large onions, finely chopped 2 cups shredded carrots
7- ½ teaspoons salt 1
teaspoon pepper
8 pounds lean ground
beef (90% lean)
Additional Ingredients for each meat
loaf
¼ cup packed brown sugar ¼ cup ketchup
1 tablespoon
prepared mustard
Step 1: In two very large bowls, combine
the eggs, milk, cheese, bread, onions, carrots, salt and pepper. Crumble beef
over mixture and mix well. Pat into four ungreased 9 in. x 5 in. loaf pans.
Step 2: Cover and freeze three meat loaves
for up to 3 months. Bake the remaining loaf, uncovered, at 350 degrees for 1
hour. Combine the brown sugar, ketchup and mustard; spread over loaf. Bake
15-20 minutes longer or until no pink remains and a meat thermometer reads 160
degrees.
TO USE FROZEN MEAT LOAF: Thaw in the
refrigerator overnight. Remove from the refrigerator 30 minutes before baking.
Bake, uncovered, at 350 degrees for 1 hour. Combine the brown sugar, ketchup
and mustard; spread over loaf. Bake 30-35 minutes longer or until no pink
remains and a meat thermometer reads 160 degrees.
Chapter Five: Potpourri of Thoughts
A Letter from Lady Jane Grey
One of the most famous martyrs of the faith, Lady Jane
Grey, wrote this
inspiring letter to her sister Katherine.
“I
have sent you, my dear sister Katherine, a book. On the outside, it is not trimmed
with gold, but inside it is worth more than precious jewels. It is the book,
dear beloved sister, of the law of the Lord. It is His testament and last will,
which He left to us poor sinners, and it will lead you to the path of eternal
joy. If you read it with a good mind and follow it with an earnest desire, it
will bring you to an immortal and everlasting life. It will teach you how to
live and how to die. It will give you more than you would have gained by the
possession of your poor father’s lands. In the same way, if you study
diligently this book, using it as a guide for your life, you will inherit great
riches that the covetous will never take from you, the thief will never steal,
and the moth will ever destroy.
Desire, sister, to understand the law of
the Lord your God. Live to die, that by death you may enter into eternal life,
and then enjoy the life that Christ has gained for you by His death. Don’t
think that just because you are now young your life will be long, because young
and old die as God wills. Strive, then, always to learn how to die. Defy the world, deny the devil, despise
the flesh, and delight yourself only in the lord. Repent of your sins, and yet
don’t despair. Be strong in faith, with humility. With St. Paul, desire to die
and to be with Christ, with whom, even in death, there is life.
Rejoice in Christ, as I trust you do. Since
you call yourself a Christian, follow as closely as you can in the steps of
your master, Christ Jesus, and take up your cross. Lay your sins on His back,
and always hold Him near.
As for my death, rejoice as I do, my dear
sister, and consider that I shall be delivered of this corruption and put on
incorruption, for I am sure that I will, for losing a mortal life, gain a life
that is immortal life. I pray that God will grant you this life in His time and
will give you His grace to live in the fear of Him and to die in the Christian
faith. In God’s name, I exhort you never to swerve, through hope of life or
fear of death, from this faith. If you deny His truth to lengthen your life,
God will deny you and shorten your days. If you hold faithful to Him, He will
prolong your days to your comfort and His glory, to which He is bringing me now
and will bring you later, when He is pleased to call you. Farewell again, my
beloved sister. Put your trust only in God, who only must help you. Amen.
Your
loving sister,
Jane Dudley
