From New England's Eyes

I’d never been to New Hampshire but in my mind, it would be like inspiration point. After all, nearly 25 years ago, I was beginning a romantic novel which took place in the Maine area but I didn’t know enough about the area to finish. These years later, I was invited, along with another friend whom I’d met through the internet, to visit Maine and New Hampshire. Can you imagine how exciting it must have been when I was able to not only go this far away from home for the first time in over twenty years, but also fly? I’d gotten a bit shy of that venue of travel, and wasn’t sure I wanted to do that. But with the loving support of my husband and others’ prayers, it was clear that I was going. 1

We visited all sorts of attractions, being taken back by the widely stretched scenery and the valleys with enchanting stories which supported their popularity. Margie, at whose home we stayed, took us everywhere- kept us on the go while her close friend, Dottie, was with her and did most of the navigation. Dottie was so knowledgable about everything. Margie already had been here several times, and besides good company, I was beginning to wonder what I had to offer her here in Indiana, comparatively speaking. I mean, except for our tall water towers that mark each city, where else can you see the famous lighthouses with the curious towers that beacon over the beautiful but austere North Eastern Atlantic ocean? 2

Most are not used anymore, and have been taken over by the State or personal property-owners. And except for sport of trout-line fishing on the Green River, how could that compare to watching genuine hump-back whales and dolphins jump out of water?3

There were eye-spectaculars as we were being surrounded by glorius mountains and cave- surrounded ocean coves where inside were carved initials of those visitors who’d been there before or original pilgrims to the new land from England, France and Austrailia. I’d realized that as I stood at the tip of the north eastern part of United States, and knew that there was no more land visible until Europe which would be a good sea-faring few days away! To my way of thinking, I was at the edge of the earth!4

On Maine’s seaports were scads of seafood shacks surrounded by slips of yachts and sailboats. We’d savored the lobster , scallops and fresh clams there, where you are served with one of those funny lobster bibs which icon a restaurant that’s famous for them. Most of the eating places are not ornate in spite of some having more complex design. Folks go out to eat wearing Dockers -dressed down with sandals and khakis, and monogrammed sweatshirts bearing the names of some of the resorts or famous atheletic clubs.5

Driving through the lower mountain areas near the ocean, we saw small tourist villages containing third generation families walking with their friends enjoying the last part of the summer. Large trails of children were carrying their pails and shovels, while parents held their hands and crossed the small bricked roads that bordered the ocean side. 6

I know that the Maine areas are very old, but there’s something extremely virgin about its look. I’m not sure why that is, except that the grasses are so very green, and houses are straight -lined and Shaker inspired. Decked front door areas appeared newly painted and porches were gaily decorated with wooden barrels full of colorful flowers and ivies. The century-year old homes appear to be well maintained to fit that ‘picture postcard look’. 7

On Sunday, we attended what was supposed to be a large church, but to me appeared to look like a brand new country chapel. In fact, I’d observed that most of the churches in the New Hampshire area looked quite a bit alike, being more simple and traditional in the styling - comfortable, with only a small design in the gables and painted shutters to distinguish them from all the others. 8

The people are fresh and sprite as the morning air, friendliness not at first noticeable, but whose worship style appears just as zealous as I knew. They know how to raise hands up and sing joyfully in their praise songs showing familiar dedication. Later, i approached one of the choir members to tell them how much I’d been blessed and I could see that these were very clear-headed people who just needed a little greeting to prompt their warmth to a stranger from the South!9

I have to admit that my favorite place was in the White Mountain area where there was this particularly large stream extending about 80 feet in width and nestled in the crotch of two smaller granite mountains. Once you walk through the cedar pines from off the highway, you’ll see this amazing lazy stream laden with mammoth sized boulders chaotically lined up breaking the currents. One can step off the side of the flattened area and carefully walk on the rocks until in the center of the stream. We saw some folks even jumping off the larger stones and begin swimming-which brings up the temperature of the water. It’s indeed near freezing, since most of the sudsy flows are melted snow masses that have fallen from the tops of the mountains. I surely saw the spontaneous but beautiful art of Godly handiwork in all of this.10

But it was the last event while in White Mountain which supported this celestial view and helped me to connect to our relationship with the Creator. Emerging from the pines that bordered this majestic scene, I heard a gruff but warming voice and matching smiling face of an elderly man. His arms lifted and extended out as if he were the “master of ceremonies” introducing to his 2 beautiful young granddaughters this spectacular place. I heard the aspiring squeals from children who were astonished with the huge scene that probably looked like a pathway for the Jolly Green Giant. I noticed this grandpa looking for those wide eyes and the looks on their faces. It was evident how amused and pleased he was to see he earned a first place in their hearts by presenting this to those whom he obviously treasured as his own! With arms in the air and confident of their joy, he loudly and wittingly announced, “ Hey … do I deliver?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Tears eventually came to me as through my mind’s eye, I saw a human visage of God and the semblance of the Creator and giver. I saw the very personally involved Maker watching us enjoy all this intentionally planned splendor. We would view first hand how He pleases his children so we could see His love and find it easier to make Him first in our lives. With revelation of this sort, it was way too obvious that it was a divine moment. I don’t think I’ll be the same from this happening, nor ever ponder if that’s all of what this New England trip was truly about. For it’s not unlikely that I could almost hear our God after 7 days of creation say to His first human being-
“ See?" He exclaims with overwhelming pride, arms orchestrating the view.
"Do I deliver?” Mary Dianne Grotius Berry 11

12