We associate flowers with spring, including the traditional Easter lily for this Sunday when our thoughts turn to resurrection. But in this blustery wintry storm in Northern Iowa, we need some cheery pansies.

The word pansy comes from mid 15th century French from the word penser, and  pensee is the feminine form, meaning to think or ponder over something. The French word pensee derives from the Latin word pensare which means to consider or pendare which means to take measure of a situation, to take everything into consideration.

I can’t help but think of those who went before us, who spent their holidays…often several years’ worth of Easters far from loved ones, on battle fields, in field hospitals or other dangerous situations. They must have thought again and again, “this will one day be over.”

So taking into consideration all this day stands for–Hope instead of despair, light to replace darkness, life triumphing over death–a joyful Easter to you in spite of a nasty virus and in the midst of a snowstorm.

Welcome April! Even though you bring us frightening news, we’re glad for the warmer weather. This morning in Butler County, Iowa, on the way to work, my sister captured the sunrise, and had graciously allowed me to share her photos.

I’m so glad she took the time to pause on the roadway and snap these shots, in a season when we all need reminders of beauty and hope. And what signifies hope better than a gorgeous sunrise?

Maybe this can remind us, too, to PAUSE in the midst of bad news. To take the time to do what we can during this period. A ninety-four year-old said the other day, “This makes me think of the polio scare back in the late forties early fifties.”

What a recollection–the polio epidemic struck fear into the hearts of Americans everywhere. This woman’s sister developed partial paralysis from the disease–she experienced the effects of this disease firsthand.

It’s almost always a good thing to PAUSE and consider history–realizing how we worked together to survive other scary times infuses courage. and courage has a lot to do with that wonderful four-letter word H O P E.

May you sense hope right now, even in the shadow fear casts over us.

Don’t we love it when things flow harmoniously? These moments remind us to be grateful, but our situations can also get complicated. Then, nothing seems right.

This week, our relative faced cancer surgery, which went well. But a few hours later, his blood pressure dropped due to internal bleeding. Things worsened, and two surgeries later, he was on the mend, but you can imagine those tense hours.

Recently the son of a real-life WWII heroine, Dorothy Woebbeking, sent me this photo of the gun turret where his mother fell asleep in the Invasion of Sicily in 1943. She and the other nurses were sent in on the first wave, a huge error by their commander. During incoming fire, a gunner rudely awakened our heroine and sent her below.

What a terrifying period that must have been! Those of you who have read UNTIL THEN

know what happened next, so I won’t spoil it for others, but the war overflowed with situations like this. Dorothy’s son also sent this note printed on the back of the photo.

Even those who’ve never experienced war know that nurses shouldn’t go into battle ahead of the infantry. This frightening circumstance must have caused terror in the heart of every person aboard that LST. ( Read how all of this turned out in UNTIL THEN.)

But in the midst of all the chaos life throws at us, we still discover synchronicity. The other day, I met a man whose accent intrigued me. We chatted, and it turns out he was a child if France during World War II, with vivid memories of that period. We arranged to meet yesterday, and I learned that Jean Jacques still recalls the Allied forces moving north through the French Alps in 1943-44.

His father had sent his family from Marseilles, a center of Nazi and Resistance activity, to a little mountain town for safety. Jean Jacques recalls pleasant childhood times there, but also the American and Canadian troops passing through the Alps.

What’s interesting is that the Eleventh Evacuation Hospital, which included our heroine Dorothy, followed the troops through these mountains to set up their triage and surgery. Wow–it’s entirely possible that Jean Jacques witnessed the truck carrying Dorothy and her thirty-nine-nurse comrades!

Today I’m meeting again with this child of the war, now in his eighties. This time, I get to see some of his photos. And who knows what may result?

Who would have thought that in the tiny mountain town of Pine, Arizona, someone like this would cross my path? But that’s the joy of research–our sources lie all around us!

You may notice a few changes to my website…not HUGE things, but a tweak here, and a tweak there. The Gallery page, for example, now boasts some great World War II photos. Just a picture is all it takes to set my mind wandering…wondering. How did that generation, ordinary folks like us, tackle their era’s challenges?

Sometimes thoughtfully…often without time to think. We don’t hear a lot about them praying, although can you imagine how mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers lifted up their loved ones on the battlefront each day?

Having a family member “over there” changed everything. I would think a person’s perspective would alter greatly–suddenly your flesh and blood was risking life and limb for the cause.

Recently I learned that the truck driver for Dorothy and the other nurses with the Eleventh Evacuation Hospital went to the effort of heating their food on his truck’s engine. Can’t help thinking that when she wrote her parents about his concern, their faces lit up. Somebody was watching out for their daughter.

Maybe he thought it was a small thing–one little act he could do to brighten the nurses’ days. Makes me think of my dad, who drove a jeep in North Africa, too.

So, this “renovation” might seem small, but maybe it’ll make a difference in someone’s appreciation of this incredible era. That’s what I’m all about!