Seeds of a First Flight

 “Jesus said, “The kingdom of God is like a man who scatters seeds on the ground. He sleeps at night and is awake during the day. The seeds sprout and grow, although the man doesn’t know how. The ground produces grain by itself. First the green blade appears, then the head, then the head full of grain. As soon as the grain is ready, he cuts it with a sickle, because harvest time has come.” – Mark 4:26-28

This summer we took a short trip to my hometown for my 45th High School Reunion.  We extended the trip by one night taking the long way home in order to make a few more memory stops from my childhood.
seedsOne of those stops was in  Phillipsburg,  Kansas.  Normally, Phillipsburg was the town we headed north to in order to join Highway 36 east bound to visit my maternal grandparent’s farm located in Jewell County.
However, there was one formative visit to Phillipsburg that planted a seed from which a harvest continues to this day.  It was where I took my first airplane ride.
I do not know the exact year, but I was somewhere around the age of eight.  Other details are foggy as well, but I do recall that 30 minute introductory plane rides at the Phillipsburg Municipal Airport  were in progress on that day.  It  was a precursor to the present day Young Eagles type program aimed at perspective pilots.
It may have been a “penny a pound” fee which was common at that time, or free.  Daddy was involved with the Experimental Aircraft Association (EAA) and Civil Air Patrol (CAP) around this time, so these organizations may have been the sponsors for the day. But, what I do know is that I was with Daddy and we were going for an airplane ride.
I remember a lot of folks having a good time, standing in line and Daddy and I climbing into a Cessna 172.  To be honest I didn’t know one from the other, but I do remember it was a high wing aircraft because I could see down clearly.  I rode in the back seat and daddy in the front on the right.

Seeds Work Without Much Awareness

The day was pleasant, not too cold or hot or windy.  A blue sky, cloudless Kansas day.  Interestingly. I don’t I remember the take-off or landing, just the way the Kansas landscape looked from up there:  all checker-boarded and green.
The Tarmac at Phillipsburg Municipal Airport – Seeds Planted here.

I remember the hum of the engine, daddy looking around and talking with the pilot and how utterly free it felt, but not much else.  Not:

  • getting out the the plane,
  • the 30 minute ride home with dad,
  • nor ever talking about it again.

But, something happened that day.  A seed was planted.  A seed that was watered almost by chance along the way: more rides with dad in the aircoupe,

All just stuff we just did.  Hanging out as father and daughter.

Seeds Grow to Unexpected Harvests

I never set out to become an air traffic controller (now retired), private pilot or airplane hangar owner.  I now see these as harvests of that seed planted in the early 60s at a small municipal airport in Kansas.
They are not only personally fulfilling but have been opportunities to serve others.  To be a part in safe flights for countless travelers, contributing to our national defense, providing a bit of joy by giving airplane rides myself, and providing a place for other pilots to keep their planes in a secure place.
It is sobering to me to think that a seed with so few details attached to it could have such impact.

Your Stonebridge Journey is formed by seeds planted in your life.  You get to choose which seeds to water, cultivate, harvest or pluck up.  Some should be discarded, but many are there waiting to be recognized and nurtured so they can come to fullness.

There are seeds in your life that are waiting to become full harvests.  Some of these are ready for reaping, some have yet to sprout.  With a bit of reflection, you will be amazed!

What one thing you are doing or have today that you recognize the seed  from which it came?  Please post your story in the comments below.

I am a former air traffic controller, pilot, Aircoupe owner, married 42 years to a great guy. We live in a 125+ year old historic Victorian, enjoy cats, vintage anything, precious friends. My passion is Giving Lost Stories A Voice – Giving Found Materials Fresh Form and Purpose!

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