Easter by George Herbert

Antique postcard of choir boy, lilies and Easter cross.

 EASTER
BY GEORGE HERBERT

Rise, heart; thy Lord is risen. Sing his praise
Without delays.
Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise
With him may'st rise:
That, as his death calcined thee to dust,
His life may make thee gold, and much more, just.

Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part
With all thy art.
The cross taught all wood to resound his name
Who bore the same.
His stretched sinews taught all strings, what key
Is best to celebrate this most high day.

Consort both heart and lute, and twist a song
Pleasant and long:
Or since all music is but three parts vied,
And multiplied;
O let thy blessed Spirit bear a part,
And make up our defects with his sweet art.

I got me flowers to strew thy way;
I got me boughs off many a tree:
But thou wast up by break of day,
And brought'st thy sweets along with thee.

The Sun arising in the East,
Though he give light, and th' East perfume;
If they should offer to contest
With thy arising, they presume.

Can there be any day but this,
Though many suns to shine endeavor?
We count three hundred, but we miss:
There is but one, and that one ever. 

Now you may think it very funny,
But this egg is home sweet home to bunny

 

Vintage coloring of giant sugar egg home for bunny!

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The Easter Joy by Margaret E. Sangster

Lily of the valley blooms in early spring.

       One day at noon during the latter part of Lent, in a cold winter, I found myself in the neighborhood of a church on Broadway, New York, where through open doors a stream of people were passing in to a little service. The invitation to leave the throng and bustle of the street and spend a quiet half-hour in a worshiping assembly could not be resisted, and entering, I found myself one of a large congregation among whom were many men, and young and old women of all ranks, from ladies richly and fashionably attired to women whose clothing marked them as toilers, some of them very poor. It was a pleasant experience to join this sanctuary throng, and as I left the church, comforted and helped by the song, the prayers, the little sermon and the watchword chosen from the Bible, I felt glad that Christians are more and more inclining their hearts to keep with special attention the services of Lent.
       I could not agree with an editorial which I read shortly after, in one of the daily papers, in which severe reflections were made on the declining piety of the Church of today. We live in a material age; an age of fierce business competition; a time when men struggle to amass money, when the contrasts between rich and poor are more sharply drawn than of old, when the besetting sin of the day is to bring matters to the test of human reason rather than to go in faith to the mercy seat and accept what God gives us there. But I remember the text of that day: "I am the Lord, the God of all flesh: is there anything too hard for me? " I see pressing in with insistent energy upon the Church a great and increasing throng of young men and women, student volunteers, who are ready and willing to give themselves to serve the Lord in any land where he may want them. I am aware that there is a large and increasing army of men and women who quietly read their Bibles and earnestly pray, and I do not believe that the Church is losing its hold upon the world, nor that Christ is deserting his own people.
       After the forty days of Lent comes the dawn of the Easter morning. Once more with flowers and hymns of praise we enter our holy places; once more we hear sounding over every open grave, and hushing every rebellious thought in our hearts and soothing every grief, the words of him who still says to every one of us, "I am the Resurrection and the Life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead yet shall he live." Because our blessed Captain tasted death for every one of us, and himself took on his pale lips its utmost bitterness, the cup which the death angel holds to our lips is filled with the sweetness and flavor of everlasting life. This is the great joy of Easter. More and more, as we go on traveling the pilgrim road, we are conscious that it is but a road leading to another and an endless home. Along the road there are beautiful surprises. Friendship is ours, and domestic bliss; the dear love of kindred; the sweetness of companionship; the delight of standing shoulder to shoulder with comrades; the glory of service. But this is not our rest, and we are going on to that place where the beloved of the Lord shall dwell in safety by him and where they go no more out forever.
       Somehow Easter always carries with it more of heaven than any other of the great anniversaries of the Christian year. In its first bright dawn the heavens were opened and the angels came down to comfort the weeping women and the disciples, mourning their Lord at the sepulcher, with those ecstatic words, "He is not here; he is risen!" It is more than fancy, it is a precious fact, that the angels still come back to console the mourner, to strengthen the doubting, and to give Christ's own people the blessed assurance that he is with them still.
       The festival of Easter comes to us at a propitious time, for lo, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come; and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. Winter, with its rigor and cold, its ice and frost and inclement blasts, its tempests on land and sea, is an emblem of warfare; its silence and sternness ally it to grief. Spring comes dancing and fluttering in with flowers and music and the blithe step of childhood. Her signs are evident before she is really here herself. First come the bluebirds, harbingers of a host; a little later there will be wrens and robins and orioles, and all the troop which make the woods musical and build sociably around our country homes.
       Then the flowers will come. Happy are they who shall watch their whole procession, from the pussy- willow in March to the last blue gentian in October. We decorate our churches at Easter with the finest spoils of the hot-house — lilies, roses, palms, azaleas ; nothing is too costly, nothing too lavish to be brought to the sanctuary or carried to the cemetery. Friend sends to friend the fragrant bouquet or the growing plant with the same tender significance which is evinced in the Christmas gifts, which carry from one heart to another a sweet message of love.
       But God is giving us the Easter flowers in little hidden nooks in the forests, down by the corners of fences, in the sheltered places on the edges of the brook, and there we find the violet, the arbutus and other delicate blossoms which lead the van for the great army of nature's efflorescence. The first flowers are more delicately tinted and of shyer look and more ephemeral fragrance than those which come later. They are the Easter flowers. Later on we shall have millions of blossoms and more birds than we can count: now in the garden and the field we have enough to remind us that the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the time of the singing of birds is come.
       If any of us have been grieving over our own lack, over our sinful departure from God or over the loss of dear ones, let us at Easter forget the past, put our hand in that of our risen Lord, accept the sweetness of his voice and the gladness of his presence as he comes into our homes, and say, thankfully, as we hear his " Peace be unto you:" "Lord, we are thine at this Easter time; we give ourselves to thee in a fullness which we have never known before. We are thine. Thine to use as thou wilt; thine to fill with blessing; thine to own. Take us, Lord, and so possess us with thyself that our waste places shall be glad, and the wilderness of our lives shall blossom as the rose." Such a prayer will find its way upward, and return to us in wonderful answers of blessing from the Lord.

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Seek Those Things Which Are Above

old-fashioned snowdrops

 SEEK THOSE THINGS WHICH ARE ABOVE
by William Newell.
"Alitor petamus, Christo duce."

I saw the mountain oak with towering form
Fall in his pride, the whirlwind's chosen prey,
The lily of the vale outrode the storm,
Shining the lovelier as it passed away.
Friend, seek not happiness in high estate,
To Mary's heart she flies from Herod's palace-gate.

I marked a spendthrift moth, squalid and alone.
With shivering wings; his summer flowers were
dead:
While the blithe bee, making their sweets her own,
Sang in her home of honey, richly fed.
Friend, seek not happiness in fleeting pleasure,
In each good work of life the good God hides her
treasure.

Jeweled with morning dew, the new-blown rose
Brings to the enamored eye her transient dower;
The live sap still runs fresh, the sound root grows.
When all forgotten fades the red-lipped flower.
Friend, seek not happiness in the bloom of beauty,
But in the soil of truth and steadfast life of duty.

Lo! the red meteor startles with his blaze
The gazing, awe-struck earth, and disappears;
While yon true star, with soft undazzling rays,
Shines in our sky through circling months and years.
Friend, seek not happiness in worldly splendor,
But in the light serene of home-joys, pure and tender.

Power has its thorns; wealth may be joyless glitter;
Belshazzar's feast grows dark with fear and sadness;
Friends die, — and beauty wanes, — and cares embitter
The gilded cup ; grief lurks behind our gladness.
Then seek not happiness, in shows of earth,
But learn of Christ betimes the secret of her birth.

Child of the soul, twin-born with Faith and Love
In the clear conscience and the generous heart,
Twin-lived with them, with them she soars above
The earthly names which man from man do part.
Seek thou God's Kingdom; there unsought she's found,
High in a heavenly life, not creeping on the ground.

Hearts set on things above, not things beneath.
Find what they crave around them day by day;
Souls risen with Christ, quick with his Spirit, breathe
The air of heaven, e'en while on earth they stay.
Bearing the cross, the hidden crown they bring.
And at the tomb they hear the Easter angels sing.

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Woman's Easter by Lucy Larcom

 WOMAN'S EASTER BY LUCY LARCOM

With Mary, ere dawn in the garden,
I stand at the tomb of the Lord;
I share in her sorrowing wonder;
I hear through the darkness a word, —
The first the dear Master hath spoken,
Since the awful death stillness was broken.

He calleth her tenderly, — "Mary"!
Sweet, sweet is His voice in the gloom.
He spake to us first, oh my sisters,
So breathing our lives into bloom!
He lifteth our souls out of prison!
We, earliest, saw Him arisen!

He lives! Read you not the glad tidings
In our eyes, that have gazed into His?
He lives! By His light on our faces
Believe it, and come where He is !
O doubter, and you who denied Him,
Return to your places beside Him!

The message of His resurrection
To man it was woman's to give:
It is fresh in her heart through the ages:
" He lives, that ye also may live,
Unfolding, as He hath the story
Of manhood's attainable glory."

O Sun, on our souls first arisen,
Give us light for the spirits that grope!
Make us loving and steadfast and loyal
To bear up humanity's hope!
O Friend, who forsakest us never,
Breathe through us thy errands forever!

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Day Dawn - A Quiet Talk On Easter

Ringing In The Easter Morn!

       Out of the east comes new light after the darkness of night. And we call it morning. Out of the Easter morning came a wondrous new light — the light of life — after the darkness of sin's night. And it has been the first gleam of a morning, the morning of a new day, for all men.
       Contrasts make things stand out. Black touching white seems blacker, and the white looks whiter. Sorrow makes joy seem gladder. Joy makes sorrow seem sadder. The deeper the sorrow, the greater is the uplift of joy following, after the first daze is over. That first Easter morning stood in sharpest contrast with what went before. The greatest possible contrast is between life and death. All sorrow and darkness and heaviness brood in the black word — death. All gladness and brightness and lightness gather up at their best in that lightsome word — life.
       The Saturday before Easter was filled with deepest gloom. While Jesus still hung on the cross, there was hope. While life remained there was a sort of expectancy that he might yet do something startling. His short life had been full of things that startled men. Surely he is allowing all this shameful treatment that he may do something to completely offset it. But now that last straggling, struggling hope has gone quite out. The life is out of his body. The body is in the sealed- up tomb. What a long day that Saturday was. The longest, darkest, saddest the human heart has known. Those hearts had been lifted to the highest pitch ever experienced. And the depression is as deep down as the other was high up.
       That night his disciples slept the heavy sleep of disappointed men, with sore hearts at their sorest. But while they slept something was taking place. The darkest hour was bringing forth brightest light, though they didn't know it. Jesus is always doing more for us than we know. The day always begins a bit earlier than we realize. Night goes sooner than we think. While they slept, Jesus rose. Up through the wrapping cloths, up through the solid rock of the new hewn tomb
       Jesus rose. Hate's work was undone. Sin's worst was worsted. The tomb became a birthplace, the birth-place of a new life, a new sort of life. Out of death came forth life. Out of the place of darkest hate shone tenderest love. Out of the poison-house of sin came sweetest purity. Out of what seemed the defeat of Jesus, came the wondrous victory of God.
       Then the angels came in garments of light, and rolled away the stone, and did guard only over the tomb that all comers might plainly see that Jesus was no longer there, but had risen.

A MORNING OF LIFE

       Then it was morning, a new morning, whose newness has never lost its dewy freshness, the world's new morning. But the light that came was too bright for the eyes it met. It dazzled. Eyes long steeped in darkness were stupefied by it, dazed, until they got used to it. But its overwhelming brilliance gave a certainty that was beyond question. These disciples and women are like children suddenly roused up out of sound sleep by an intense light shining directly into their faces. They blink and stagger, and talk in jerky sentences until they become measurably used to the fact that Jesus has indeed risen. Though the wonder of it, they never do get used to. But they quickly find their feet, and go steadily on, amidst bitterest opposition and sorest persecution. That light still shining in their faces, holds them steady through all the days.
       Nobody ever was so completely taken by surprise as were these disciples of Jesus. This of itself is tremendous evidence. Their conduct those first few days makes the best book on Christian evidences ever penned. Their utter lack of expectation, their startled surprise, their apparent inability to believe what had actually occurred, the stubborn doubter holding obstinately out for eight days — then, homely, plain facts that completely removed all of this, and swept the last questioner in.
       Mary knew, not only by the voice repeating her name, and by the presence at first mistaken for a gardener, but by being given something to do. That was satisfying evidence to her. The Master was acting in his old way. The women knew by the feel of their fingers upon his feet, and the sound of that never-to-be-mistaken voice. Peter knew when, all alone, the eyes that drew the bitter tears in the courtyard, now looked again into his. You could not befool Peter about those eyes. The Emmaus couple knew by the wondrous talking, by their burning hearts, but the man sitting at the same table, the broken loaf in their hands, and that suddenly recognized face. The upper-room company knew by the fish being taken, and the bit of barley loaf — could there be homelier, saner, simpler evidence? The cautious, square-jawed Thomas knew by the feel of those scarred hands, and the rude-edged hole in the side, and his jaw relaxed into a glad, worshipful recognition of Jesus, his Lord, and his God. Long after, the studious, keenly trained schoolman of Tarsus knew by the blinding light, and the quiet, penetrating voice, that completely reversed the high-pressure engine of his career.

THE GOSPEL OF THE BODY

       Jesus' resurrection was a real thing. It was a rising up of His body out of death. Of course it must have been that, for resurrection is only of the body. Resurrection is a body word. It cannot be properly used directly except of the body. Other use is rhetorical, figurative and secondary. The spirit of Jesus was not killed nor buried. That which went down, came up again. Resurrection is a truth regarding the body.
       A man's body distinguishes him from the higher orders. It is a sacred thing. It is his personality in tangible shape. It comes to be the mold of his spirit. It is his biography. Every man carries about with him his life-story, from birth to death. Though few are skilled in reading it, and none read it fully. His body is the home-spot of his spirit. It is a bit of himself, his identity. So we know the man.
       The body bears the brunt of the pain that comes through the breaks in the natural rhythm made by the man living in it. It becomes his scapegoat. It takes much of the punishment that sin brings. It is to share the joy of release from sin, and sin's results. Our bodies are precious to us. They are precious to our loved ones. In them we have lived, on them we have leaned, with them we have companioned, through them we have given expression to all our loves and fears. They are a part of us. We will not be less in the upper, future life than we have been here, but more. We have sadly ignored and abused our bodies. That is only bad. Some holy men have seemed to think lightly of the body as though a mean thing, or temporary. That too is bad. The resurrection teaches us the worth, the dignity, the sacredness of our bodies. It is through bodily functions that we come into life. It is our bodies coming into being that permits us to come into being. At the touch of God, the new spirit comes into being in a body prepared, slowly, carefully, usually painfully, prepared for it. We should love our bodies, study them, care for them, train them, hold them true to their great service of ministering to the spirit within. They should be kept pure and sweet and sound. It is their due, and the due of the two great spirits living in them. They are temples of our spirits, and of the Spirit of God. The resurrection is the gospel of the body. Thereby Jesus tells us to reverence our bodies.

WE SHALL BE CHANGED

       But mark keenly that Jesus' body was changed in the resurrection. It was a change for the better. It was lifted to a higher plane of life. It became superior to what it had been. We are apt, in thinking of the difficulties of our own resurrection, to keep thinking of the body as we know it. But it will be a changed body. With Jesus the limitations were gone. His body had been limited as is ours. It needed food and rest, air and exercise. It could work only so long; then came fatigue. He got from place to place by effort, walking, or combining his thought and skill and work with nature, as sailing a boat or riding a donkey. He entered a building through openings made for the purpose. When the new life came, the resurrection life, these limitations are gone. He is free of the need of food and rest. All tiredness is gone. He goes as quickly and easily from place to place as thought can travel. He was free of material obstructions such as walls, going where he would by willing to be there.
       The resurrection of Jesus was a natural result of his life of perfect obedience to the will of God. It was the next stage up of his perfect life. Perhaps these bodily limitations simply belong to an apprenticeship period of life. They may be the scaffolding while the life is building. They may belong to the earlier stage of life. The resurrection conditions found in Jesus belong to the next higher stage.
       But there are changes for us in addition to these that Jesus experienced. We shall know the change he knew. We are assured of that. But there is more for us. Because there has been more in us, namely sin, there is more for us. Jesus knew one change from the life before death to a new sort of life after resurrection. We shall know two changes. This that he knew, and also a change reversing sin's changes. Our bodies have been changed by sin, as his was not. These changes made by sin shall be changed back, and up. It will be a return to first conditions. Man's body has known bad changes through sin. It will know blessed changes through the removal of sin. Pain, sickness, weakness, immaturity, stunted growth, liability to death — these Jesus never knew in his own person. They are sin's work. They will be removed. We shall all be changed, and shall be all changed through and through. We shall be like him.

THE WORLD'S SPRINGTIME

       Easter comes from East. The one word gives the other. East means the dawn. The original festival of Easter celebrated the spring, the new dawn of the year, and of the earth's life. It is a happy borrowing of a word from our brothers of the earlier ages. Jesus' rising is an Easter, a dawn, the dawn of day for man, and for the earth.
       Easter spells out beauty, the rare beauty of new life. Is life ever so sweet and beautiful as when it comes up new and fresh in the spring? The green has a fairer hue, the flower a softer, deeper coloring, the air a new balmy freshness and the dew a sweeter fragrance. Jesus' rising was the beginning of the world's springtime. But it seems to be a slow spring, late in opening up, a retarded spring, held back by some hard frosts, and rough winter storms. But the sun is coming nearer all the while. It will be warmer soon. Winter will all go.
       When Jesus comes again the frosts will go. Then comes in fully the world's new spring of life, and then the summer full-fruits. The church is not agreed about when that will be and some see it a long way off, as a sort of great celebration after great victory. Some of us think he may come in any generation, and his coming bring the great victory. But all are practically agreed that he is to come. When he comes — nobody knows when — then comes the full-fruits of the harvest of life. His coming means release for us up into the resurrection life. It means reunion with those who have slipped from our grasp. They will come back when he comes back. They come with him. A wondrous spring morning that!

" And in the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since,
And lost awhile."

And the thought makes the heart beat faster, as it
fervently repeats John's Patmos prayer, " Come, Lord
Jesus."

       When it is a bit dark with you, may be a good bit, a deep biting bit of dark, cheer up, there's a dawn coming. When it is winter in your life, snowbound, icebound, frozen up and frozen in, pull out the full organ stop of your soul and let the music out, for there's a spring coming. And in its wonder the winter will be sheer forgot. Jesus' springtime of a new life seems to be about due. It may be in your heart now, in your life, like the first crocus up through the snow. It is to be in all the earth. Let us live with our faces turned toward the rising sun — the risen Son. by S. D. Gordon

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The Crescent And The Cross

See how to craft an Easter Sunrise.

 THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS
BY THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH

Kind was my friend who, in the Eastern land,
Remembered me with such a gracious hand,
And sent this Moorish Crescent, which has been
Worn on the haughty bosom of a queen.

No more it sinks and rises in unrest
To the soft music of her heathen breast;
No barbarous chief shall bow before it more,
No turban'd slave shall envy and adore.

I place beside this relic of the Sun
A Cross of cedar brought from Lebanon,
Once borne, perchance, by some pale monk who trod
The desert to Jerusalem — and his God!

Here do they lie, two symbols of two creeds,
Each meaning something to our human needs;
Both stained with blood, and sacred made by faith,
By tears and prayers, and martyrdom and death.

That for the Moslem is, but this for me!
The waning Crescent lacks divinity:
It gives me dreams of battles, and the woes
Of women shut in dim seraglios.

But when this Cross of simple wood I see,
The Star of Bethlehem shines again for me,
And glorious visions break upon my gloom —
The patient Christ, and Mary at the tomb.

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The Easter Message

 THE EASTER MESSAGE  by Charles E. Hesselgrave

       Less than a century ago there were growing up in some of the cultured Christian homes of New England many children who later realized with regret that during their childhood days they had never known the symbolism or ever heard the name of Easter. Yet no more significant, spontaneous, or universally attractive festival has ever been instituted than that which celebrates the return of spring, the budding of leaves and flowers, and the triumphant hope that eternally beckons forward the human race.
       Older than Christianity and deeply rooted in the love of life itself, the spirit of Easter finds its most perfect expression in the Resurrection story of Jesus, There is, indeed, good cheer in the sight of flowers lifting their faces once more toward the sunlight, after the frosts and storms of winter have spent their force. The swelling seeds and changing tints of green give promise of the coming harvests and assure us of nature's ready response to our physical needs. The songs of the birds and the humming of the bees remind us of the rising tide of life that surrounds us and through countless channels is rushing onward with the pulse beat of recurring years. In all this stir of creative energy, this bursting of winter's fetters and the renewal of life's struggle for undisputed supremacy, we feel a kindling interest and secret joy, which carry us outside the old limitations and broaden the horizons of our purposes and hopes.
       But did the springtime come and go with no other message of inspiration, the world of mankind would grow old and weary and discouraged with its toil and disappointment, its wasting wars and ceaseless oppressions, its heroic attempts and saddening failures, and the oft recurring sight of its shining ideals cast to the earth and trampled upon by the gross feet of selfishness and indifference. Humanity knows but too well its own weakness and defects. Memory as well as science reminds us that one spring is like another, that man's life too is but a coming and a going, as the budding spring bursts into summer and comes at last to rest beneath winter's snow. But Easter adds the everlasting crown to man's hope and inspiration in the Resurrection story. Therein we pass from intimations of nature into the realm of human struggle and aspiration where the organizing forces of life surge to and fro with tragic consequence and man more often questions the worth of the final result.
       Back to the Gospel source go those whose faith in human possibilities and courage for unmeasured tasks must needs be renewed in some life giving stream. Not only in the buds and blossoms may we see the victory of life, but also in the story of Calvary and the Garden, where we find goodness and righteousness eternally triumphant over villainy and injustice, non-resistence over aggression, humility over pride, holiness over sin, love over hate. We are assured that though evil may hold the reins for a season, dominion and power belong ultimately to justice and right. How- ever complete may be the temporary defeat of truth, error shall not always abide.
       Easter proclaims that man shall overcome all his foes, including death itself. His pathway may lead him through the sorrows of Gethsemane, the pain and darkness of Calvary, nevertheless his winter of distress will yet turn to the spring of delight, defeat will be forgotten in the joy of final victory, and the life of the spirit will rise in glory from the shadows of the grave. 

Traditionally dyed eggs, the an ancient symbol of new life.

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An Easter Song

The Tomb IS Empty!

 AN EASTER SONG by Susan Coolidge

A song of sunshine through the rain,
Of spring across the snow,
A balm to heal the hurts of pain,
A peace surpassing woe.
Lift up your heads, ye sorrowing ones,
And be ye glad of heart.
For Calvary and Easter Day,
Earth's saddest day and gladdest day.
Were just one day apart!

With shudder of despair and loss
The world's deep heart was wrung.
As lifted high upon his cross
The Lord of Glory hung,
When rocks were rent, ghostly forms
Stole forth in street and mart ;
But Calvary and Easter day.
Earth's blackest day and whitest day,
Were just one day apart !  

No hint or whisper stirred the air
To tell what joy should be;
The sad disciples, grieving there.
Nor help nor hope could see.
Yet all the while the glad, near sun
Made ready its swift dart,
And Calvary and Easter Day,
The darkest day and brightest day,
Were just one day apart !

Oh, when the strife of tongues is loud,
And the heart of hope beats low.
When the prophets prophesy of ill.
And the mourners come and go,
In this sure thought let us abide.
And keep and stay our heart —
That Calvary and Easter Day
Earth's heaviest day and happiest day.
Were but one day apart !

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Craft Old-Fashioned Lantern Silhouettes

Crayon flames glow behind silhouettes of antique lanterns cut from black construction paper.

        These little paper lanterns hang from a black paper chain, decorating our family cupboard during the Fall holidays. The patterns for the flat lanterns are based upon antique tin versions and the crayon colored flames are drawn on separate pieces of white paper that are glued to the back sides of the black paper cut-outs.

       For this craft you will need the following supplies: crayons, white school glue, a white pencil, stapler (optional) white paper, black construction paper, a ruler and a pair of scissors.

Step-by-Step Directions:

1. Cut strips of construction paper 1/2" wide and 5-6 inches long. Loop these inside one another using either white glue or a stapler to tack the ends of each loop shut. Make the paper chain long enough to drape onto a cabinet or to hand across a window.
   
2. Decide what size you want your lanterns to be. Cut out the proper length and width of a black construction paper rectangle. 
3. Fold this rectangle in half lengthwise. 
4. Use a pencil or white crayon to draw your lantern's design, either the left or right side only if you want the pattern to have equal window designs on both sides of the lantern. 
5. Then cut the window design and the outer shape of the lantern out on one half of the pattern. 
6. Unfold the lantern to reveal a pattern that has a symmetrical design.
7. If you want a lantern with an asymmetrical design you will need to draw a silhouette directly on top of a unfolded, rectangular paper to cut away every negative shape slowly and carefully.
8. Color the faux flames of your lantern on bright white paper and glue these paper fires to the backside of your paper lanterns to make these look as though they are lit.
9. Cut an additional construction paper loop to attach the lanterns to your paper chain.
10. Now you can hang up some vintage looking lamps to decorate for Fall or Halloween.
    

Above are the silhouette patterns I cut from black construction paper.

 

Links to Old-Fashioned Lamps:

• A variety of old-styled lanterns and lamps still made by craftsmen
  
• How to make an old tin can lantern

The Snow Storm

 The Snow-Storm
by Anne M. Cooper

It is fun to sit in the window-seat,
When all outdoors is snow and sleet,
For everywhere I look I see
Things that are n't what they seem to be.

The fence-posts, each with a cap of snow,
Look like soldiers all in a row;
While just over there, the kitchen pump
Looks like a rabbit about to jump.

Down by the gate, that tall white ghost
Is really only the hitching-post;
While under the tree, that polar bear
Is only our rustic chair.

A handy little frog craft...

       The only supplies you will need for this craft is: green, white yellow, and red construction paper, scissors, white school glue and a young person's hand to trace around.
       If you are working with students younger than five or six, the craft may be easier to accomplish with green paint and a hand print. But, as you students age, it is more of a challenge for them to trace around his or her hand and cut the shape out with scissors.
       Cut three circle shapes for the eye balls: two from green paper and one from yellow. Then cut the yellow circle in half and glue the two halves to the lower halves of the green circles. This will make your green frog friend look sleepy...
       Cut a larger green oval from construction paper for the frogs mouth. Use a green crayon to make the lips look puffy! Then cut a long red tongue from paper and curl it around your crayon. Uncurl it and glue one tip between the frog's puffy lips.
       Now you can choose to mount this silly looking frog to a bulletin board, or a paper pond scene.

 

More Handy Frog Crafts:

• Frog craft for kids from KROKOTAK
• Funny frogs moving paper toys easy paper crafts by 123 Easy Paper Crafts DIY 
• Paper frog origami by PaperManCraft
  

Seal Lullaby by Rudyard Kipling

 Seal Lullaby
by Rudyard Kipling

Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind
us,
And black are the waters that sparkled so
green.
The moon, o'er the combers, looks down-
ward to find us
At rest in the hollows that rustle between.
Where billow meets billow, there soft be thy
pillow;
Ah, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy
ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark
overtake thee,
Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging
seas.