Here it is way past my bed time hour. I have been watching The country Music Awards. I always think of E Don with the music of the country. I must say that I think that Reba is a true elfin lady. I wrote a story that I dedicate to Reba because she has a beautiful spirt. It is called,

Reba The Three Legged Frog

REBA, THE THREE LEGGED FROG

Reba was born a tadpole in a bromeliad pool. There, she swam and ate such small insects that happen to fall into the pool, while she grew legs and lungs and lost her tail. She was quickly becoming a green tree frog. She could not remember exactly how she lost her leg. It was probably snipped off by some bird who happened to be drinking out of the little pool of water in the bromeliad, but really she could not remember ever having another leg. As far back as she could remember, she only had three.

Reba finally lost her tail, and climbed out of the little pool to search for better food. She was high up in the Old Oak Tree. It was night. It had been raining, which frogs love, but she was having a bit of a hard time holding on to the bark of the tree with her three legs. She slid a little and hopped a little until she was on the ground in the tall grass. There were puddles all around from the rain, and she swam in each and every one she came to. The puddles were like lakes compared to her little pool in the bromeliad.

Other tree frogs were in the puddles, too. When they saw Reba, they stared at her missing leg (where her leg would have been if she had four like they did). Some of the other frogs croaked out loud and pointed to her saying, “Look at old Crippled Frog!! She only has THREE legs!” Someone even called her “Stumpy.” Some croaked, “ How can you hop with only three legs?” and laughed at her when she showed them how she could hop.

Reba was very confused. She did not understand why they laughed at her. She hopped almost as good as they did, only a little to one side. It made her feel so very different. It made her feel sad, too. She hopped out of the puddle, and could hear the other frogs laughing at the way she hopped until she was a long way off.

But Reba was a cheerful frog by her nature, and when she could not hear them anymore, she looked at the starlight shining in the drops of rain on the grass and felt glad in her heart to be out in the world. She was looking around for bugs to eat and she happened to look up and saw the light coming from the window of the house. She could see a lot of little bugs flying around the window… millions of little bugs. She decided then and there that she must reach that lighted window. It took her a long time climbing up the hedges that grew by the window, but at last, she made one final hop and landed right on the window pane.

At first, she was a little blinded by the light, but after a while she could see just fine! That was when she noticed a very large golden spider who seemed to be hanging in mid air just about a foot away. Reba had never seen a spider before, but it looked like something to stay away from. So, she moved way over to the other side of the window and sat very still, waiting for some bug to come near enough to catch with her long tongue. It was not long before she had eaten six mosquitoes, three flying ants, and a couple of very small midges. Reba was feeling very good about coming to the lighted window.

All of a sudden, Matilda (who was one of the Banana Spider Republic), said to Reba, “ You only have three legs!”

Reba said, “I know.”

Matilda, as a spider should have had eight legs, but she only had seven. Of course, Reba, never having seen a spider before, did not know this, but Matilda knew that frogs should have four legs. Matilda continued speaking to Reba, saying, “ I want to show you where my secret thread is attached to the window so that you will never touch it. I cannot be responsible for myself if someone touches it. I have to go and get them and wrap them up and hang them up.” Matilda crawled down her secret thread and showed Reba where it was attached to the window pane. Reba thanked her very much and went back to eating bugs. She thought Matilda was very nice, but a little strange. She was glad to know about the secret thread, and made sure she remembered exactly where it was.

It was later in the night, when another visitor came to the window. It was Henry the lizard. He was not much of a color, a little pink, if anything. He had a big scar around the base of his tail. His tail was very short for a lizard’s tail, too. He sauntered up onto the pane of glass and noticed Reba right away. “Hi ya, Toots. How are the buggies tonight?”

Reba had to admit that they were very good, indeed. She had never seen a lizard either, so she came right out and asked, “What are you?”

Henry laughed and said, “I am the famous ‘Henry Lizard.’ Have you never heard of me?”

Reba had to admit that she had not.

“I am the one who had his tail bitten off by that cat (He pointed to Amber Jack) and lived to grow another!”

Reba wished she could grow another leg, and Matilda, who had overheard him, wished she could, too.

Every morning when the sun came over the horizon, Reba left the window and went just below the window sill to keep cool and damp until the next evening came, when she returned to the window to eat bugs. Reba, Matilda, and Henry became the best of friends and not any one of them laughed at the other. They are friends still, and Reba and Matilda never even think about their lost legs anymore. They do not need them to be friends.



Love,

Betty


I posted this story because I thought that one of the production numbers used a Marine who had both legs amputated to promote their song. I did not like it at all.

It is one thing to write a sappy song that you think all of America will tumble over...but I though it in very bad taste to him sit there in the wheel chair while they gyrated on the stage. Call me what you will, it was not music. I imagine they paid him well. Sad, all the same, to take a mans dignity away to sell a sappy song.

Love,
Betty

What a lovely story, Betty. Reminds me a bit of the Isle of Misfit Toys. Reba has such an amazing spirit and I love that they became friends and carved out a little niche for themselves in the world.

Amazing coincidences amaze me...

My wife's name is Reba, and what are her favorite things to collect?

Yep. FROGS!

Another wonderful story that you share with us made me smile. Thank you Betty.

Never tire of reading your stories, Betty.

That's a great story Betty! Thanks for sharing it here. The post script about the marine is sad, but the story is a gem.

Dear Brew,
My daughter collects frogs, too. The thing about frogs is that they are kind of the 'canary' of the enviornment. Their skin is so very sensitive to polution in the air and the water. In this little back woods place that I live, the frogs have become almost non-existant. The polution from the mines, the farms, the little traffic we get, the dumping of anything and everything in the woods where no one sees has taken a toll on the frogs and toads. I wish that I could get the whole of Duette considered a wild life refuge. I wonder what that would take to do.

Love,
Betty

Oh Marie,

It is your fault that I have to post this story.


THE MUSIC OF THE NIGHT AS SUNG BY THE ANIMALS ON THE FARM

Wooffer was humming a song as he trotted off to visit the frogs in the ditch. It was his favorite song. He knew all of the words and the tune almost perfectly. The frogs, however, hated to hear Wooffer sing the songs he made up and told him to be quiet and were very rude about his songs and his singing every time he started to sing. Wooffer was well aware that his singing annoyed the frogs to no end, so this morning, as Wooffer approached the ditch, he had a smirky smile on his face. He crept up to the edge of the water, and then, at the top of his voice he began to sing, “The Music Of The Night.” He could hardly sing it for chuckling to himself about how much it would set the frogs to putting their hands over their ears and groaning! “Oh! Not the singing again!!!”

Wooffer kept on singing all the words and keeping the tune and rhythm perfectly. He had only gotten to the second verse when he noticed that every frog was sitting on the opposite bank and listening very closely, with their mouths wide open. Wooffer continued singing the song, expecting that at any moment they would start croaking and yelling for him to “knock off that terrible noise.”… Not a frog moved! Wooffer finally got to the last part of the song, and sang as loud as he could. Every frog eye on the bank was looking straight at Wooffer.

For a moment, not a croak was heard. Slowly, a little clapping… then a few whistles… and some stamping of the hind feet… and finally Old Bully Frog croaked, “That is our song. How do you come to know it so well? You sang it beautifully, too!?” Wooffer stood there dumbfounded. He had done it as a joke! He could not believe that they knew the song, too.

Wooffer said, “Oh, yeah?! I don’t believe you know the song. If you do, then sing it to me!” So the frogs all sang together and did not miss a word or a note of, “The Music Of The Night,”… and they did it beautifully, too.

The Bully frogs had a better opinion of Wooffer that day, and invited him to come and sing with them anytime… but not the songs he made up… “please.”

The whole rest of the day, Wooffer could not get the song out of his mind. He hummed it, he sang it out loud, he howled it, and la la la-ed it everywhere he went. Naturally, all the other animals on the farm heard him doing one or the other all day. Wooffer did not know, but every one of them knew the song as their favorite song in the whole wide world! They all knew the words and sang it every night! It was not long before Cho Lee had discussed it with Margaret and Reginald, and Margaret and Reginald had discussed it with Basil and Silverthorn, and Basil and Silverthorn had discussed it with Old Agnes… and so on, until the whole farm was talking about how Wooffer knew the song “The Music Of The Night.” They were all amazed! But they were proud of Wooffer too! He never went out at night (except on Christmas Eve) and so they did not know how he could have learned the song. No one EVER sang it in the middle of the day!… But Wooffer had, and they had all heard about the frogs singing it right back.

Two weeks had passed since the “joke” Wooffer had tried to pull on the frogs, and all the animals knew that a very special day was coming. It would be Wooffer’s mom’s birthday in a few days. They all talked and wondered what special thing they could do to make her happy on her birthday. They finally had a meeting under the Old Oak Tree to decide what they could do to make a very special old lady be glad to have another birthday. Wooffer was there and so were all the animals of the farm. It was Ho Chi’s idea that they all sing, “The Music Of The Night,” for Wooffer’s mom on her birthday. Wooffer was very surprised that they all knew the song, and he was overjoyed that they wanted to sing it for his mom, because he knew it was her favorite song, too. So, they all practiced it together every day in the middle of the broom weeds, so no one could see or hear them, and so that it would be a big surprise.

The “special day” finally came, and the animals all waited until dark.

They had all worked hard to push a chair under the Old Oak Tree for Wooffer’s mom to sit on, and when everything was ready, Wooffer brought his mom out and she sat in the special chair. Wooffer and Ho Chi and Margaret and Basil and all the other animals started to sing. Wooffer’s mom closed her eyes, and listened to “The Music Of The Night.” It was the best concert she had ever heard. And when it was over, she thanked everyone personally, with tears of joy in her eyes.

All the animals had tears of joy in their eyes, too, and as they all went home to bed, they were glad in their hearts that Wooffer’s mom loved them and they loved her, too. Wooffer was happy, too, because she was his very own mom, but his mom was happiest of all because Wooffer and all the animals loved her enough to sing “The Music Of The Night” just for her.

Love,

Betty

Me too, Marie! Betty's stories have a beauty all their own, just like her.

I am on a spiral to get it all out. The Stories, that is.

Good, God! The heart doctor on Wednesday.. He has no idea of lifel I wonder if I will live past. Thank you all for the kindness. I wonder if heart doctors know what your heart (spirit) has been looking forward to. Do they just do their stuff and never the mind of your real life and spirit. I hope that all of our spirits have an after the doctors stuff.

I know that everyone gets over your passing after a time. Well, maybe not yours, but mine will hurt my children and my David will stare off into space for a while. Then some young chic will come and smile on him and tell him he still looks good for his age and that she is really into younger men. He will flutter like a butterfly and dance on her eyelashes with blinking and his own kind of flutter. Ahhha. She will be 45 with a boob job and a good line.

I will be looking down from wherever I get to go and smile for his happiness. Life is too short!

God bless us everyone.

Love,
Betty

I have not been posting, but in Betty's case I will make an exception to that. I sent her this in a private message, but I wanted everyone here to know how much of a treasure I believe this woman to be. I am posting my message to her for all of you to read, and hopefully to join together and send our voices up to ask that God watch over her, and over her doctor.

_____________________________________________


I have somehow withstood a massive heart attack, several smaller ones and an angioplasty, been bled out by an ulcer, lived through quadruple heart bypass surgery, and then there was the recent (last September) heart attack and the surgery to put in the stint. That I am alive is a miracle, but then, that's the way God operates, isn't it? Through miracles. If you need one tomorrow, I'm sure he will see fit to send one down to you. I do know that the world needs your gentle voice, and t'would be a vastly poorer place to live without you and your amazing stories gracing it. God is on your side, and so am I. Not that I can do anything except ask God to watch over you, but rest assured that I will do that this very night.

Don Harpe

Good grief, Betty! I have evidently missed something. I had no idea you were ailing. My payers are with you, whatever the problem may be. Don, with his usual eloquence, has said it very well.

Betty, I'm praying, too. And, sending you gentle vibes for a calm spirit. You are an amazing woman and I have loved, loved, loved reading your stories. You are a gift to many and I hope you can feel God's loving arms surrounding you.

Betty,

I, too, love your wonderful stories and will be praying for all to be well with you today and many more years to follow.

Love,

Helen

I can't match Don's record, but I also had a heart attack and now have what they call heart failure, which I previously thought meant you were dead. Don't worry, Betty, those heart doctors are pretty good. That 45-year-old with the boob job is going to have to wait for many more years.