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Yevet Tenney

Yevet Tenney has been writing for Progressive Publishing for many years. Her heartfelt, inspirational articles are a favorite with readers.


Some time ago, I taught my husband’s heavy equipment class of high school students how to write a résumé and cover letter and gave them information to prepare them for an interview with a potential employer.

I talked to them about skills, work experience, education and interests. I talked of job portfolios and letters of recommendation.

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In winter, I have often stood in the icicle air and gazed up at the starlit sky. The pinpricks of light shimmer and flicker in the velvet blackness, while their reflections, like millions of candles, dance across the frozen snow.

The whole world sleeps under the warmth of an icy blanket. My soul is filled with indescribable peace as I marvel at the grandeur of it all.

I think of how the snow covered the autumn leaves and the dark, bare ground and how when the snow melts into spring, the world will be transformed into a brilliant green world of new life.

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Outside my window, the world is a glorious panorama of color. The leaves flutter red, yellow and orange in the breeze.

Autumn – what a glorious time of year! The artist of heaven paints the world a majestic array of splendor ... and I complain that winter is coming.

I swoop from room to room, exhorting my children to hurry up, clean up and shut up. I make sure they know exactly what still needs to be done, and what is going to happen if they don’t get it done.

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My parents will be married 69 years on the 12th of March; that’s a record in this modern age of buy and toss, where people talk about love and commitment but the underlying tone is of self-indulgence.

Those folks were made of sterner stuff back then. They were fashioned out of the spirit that led across the ocean in the Mayflower to the Revolutionary War, through the Civil War and into the Great Depression.

Commitment was a tradition and love was an afterthought, back in those days.

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0211pc_tenney_1The store windows are full of red lacy hearts, Cupids with arrows, and boxes of chocolates. It’s time for that wonderful lovers’ day called Valentine’s Day.

I used to hate Valentine’s. It was a day of frustration and emptiness. As a spinster of 38, I hadn’t had much experience with Cupid. My friends got chocolates, flowers, and dates.

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Happy New Year! Throw the confetti. Blow the whistles. Kiss your sweetheart. January 2011 is born.

Who changed the calendar? Who turned the clock ahead while I was sleeping? What happened to 2010? I thought the Grinch had a change of heart. I want to know who the thief is that keeps stealing dates off my calendar.

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