Letter from the Editor

A winter poem ushers us into the season

Dear Reader,

Welcome to the first issue of The Redbud Hyphen! For many years we have published each month on our website as The Redbud Post. We’re still there in archives, but from this point forward, we will be posting here on Substack. 

It’s new for everyone!

We are also moving to seasonal themes. The plan is to post several pieces each week on that theme. We start, of course, in winter. According to Punxsutawney Phil, we’ll be here for just a few more weeks (hang in there, northerners!). I’ve given our writers a lot of leeway in how they cover this theme of winter. Whatever it evokes in them can come out in their writing.

Apparently, winter evokes poetry, because two of the pieces we have for you this week are lovely wintry poems. Since I live in Florida, where winter comes for a visit every few days or so December through February, my take on the season is a little different. 

Here are my thoughts:

As I sit and write, a YouTube video depicting a snowy night and a blazing fire in a stone fireplace (AI generated, of course, because what isn’t these days) plays on my TV. It’s sunny and 59º outside. To some, I realize this is very spring-like weather, but I’m wearing leggings and a sweater—although my feet are bare—because by this afternoon, it will be in the 70s and too warm for my cozy clothes.

I bought a winter coat last month for a trip I’ll be taking in a couple of weeks to Connecticut for work. The trip was originally canceled, but I kept the coat thinking maybe someday I’ll experience winter, and it’s better to be prepared. Good thing, because now I’ll need it.

When we retire, my husband and I are seriously considering moving back to where he was raised, in the mountains of North Carolina. I’ve been in Florida for more than 30 years, and I was raised in California. Winter means something very different for me. 

I hope I’ll be ready. 

Life’s like that. We never know when a sudden storm might blow in. When we might face winter in our souls.  We don’t have forecasts for those kinds of storms. We don’t actually know how bad it’s going to be. 

Is my soul ready for such a storm?

Jesus said in this world we will have trials. But have peace, he has overcome the world.

Thanks for joining us in our new space. We warmly invite your comments!

Blessings as you read,

Editor in Chief

Stephanie Reeves is a senior content producer for Guideposts and serves as the Editor in Chief of the Redbud Hyphen. She lives in Orlando, Fla., with her family of three 20-something kids, an adorable grandson, and her husband of 33 years.

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Sleds: What To Do With Yesterday

By

Cheryl Grey Bostrom

           

You, child, first came to me

sledding on water

from the hill of my belly,

the water in your blood

drawn through me from

a well in the field.

So when snow came, 

born of water, 

I wondered if 

you had flown home

to say hello.

Then the flurry of you 

took shape and

your fresh powder skin

covered yesterday.

I retrieved your storeroom sled

and lay downhill,

occiput anterior,

racing the slick track until

at the bottom,

at rest,

I pressed my cheek against

your lovely heart,

as close to you

and as happy

as I could

possibly be.