Articles written by Marlane Lillian Mazur


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  • Gardening is great therapy

    Marlane Lillian Mazur|Updated Jul 19, 2016

    "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." So it has been said and I know it to be true. It is how one looks at the simple beauty in almost everything around us. There is so much, I fear I sometimes take it for granted, however, when I look with my spiritual eyes, I am in awe. I am able to find Creator's beauty everywhere, in every season. I pray that I always will cherish the bountiful blessings that are freely given to us by the Creator. During the summer, my heart overflows...

  • "Look to the North" Grandfather said

    Marlane Lillian Mazur|Updated Sep 10, 2015

    Annusik was being taught the tradition of oral story telling by his grandfather, a wise Elder. "I am a story teller of the old ways," said Grandfather. "Listen to what I say. I will teach you what the Elders have taught me from our ancestors who went before them. They were the keepers of this territory of the Great Slave Lake. Elders are very important in the First Nations culture. They have lived longest and gained the most experience and wisdom," Grandfather explained. As...

  • One More Prairie Christmas

    Marlane Lillian Mazur|Updated Dec 2, 2014

    Christmas was the most memorable time during my childhood years on the prairies. It was uncomplicated but valuable, humble but rich. Each one special to our family. Every member made the effort to get 'home for the holidays' and travelled under extremely difficult conditions most of the time. No one had cell phones or road assistance. Somehow they always got through, by the grace of our mothers' hours of prayers, I believe, and another Prairie Christmas would begin. For years...

  • Faith Pruning

    Marlane Lillian Mazur|Updated Oct 12, 2014

    I remember how I helped my mother and loved working in the garden with her as a young child. It gave us time together. As we worked, she always told a story. I guess what I didn't realize then, was the way she was teaching me life's lessons, in parables. All plants need pruning. Sometimes I thought she was wrong when she cut off first blossoms and extra foliage. "Why do you take off the nicest parts?" I continually asked. Her answer was always the same: "Because I love them....

  • "Kanata," Canada's Goose on the Loose

    Marlane Lillian Mazur|Updated May 25, 2014

    Kanata is a Huron word for 'village' or 'settlement. The Hurons first named flocks of geese 'Kanata' because these birds bred close to Indian settlements. 'Kanata' was also the name given to the French settlement of Stadacona, now Quebec City and was conformed to the English name: Canada. That name was given to the geese as well. What came first? The goose's name or the country's name? Today, Canada geese are established from Canada's east coast to west coast, and from Mexico...

  • The Skating Pond

    Marlane Lillian Mazur|Updated Jan 18, 2014

    Autumn would pass, the first snow would fall, We tried to wait patiently for Dad to call: "The pond is frozen! Grab your gear. The skating pond is smooth and clear!" Our skates were sharp and polished like new And Mama pinned mitts on our parkas, too. "Hurray!" We'd shout bundled head to toe Thinking Mama would never let go. So many clothes seemed to get in our way But we hurried to the pond, on a prairie winter day. Dad always stayed near, within sight of us 'Cause he knew...

  • AN OCEAN OF LEAVES

    Marlane Lillian Mazur|Updated Nov 23, 2013

    As an artist, color is everything. Whenever autumn is here, I find it brings me renewed awareness of our Creator all over again. I am in awe at the bounty of colors, from warm earth tones to neon yellows and orange. Creator is the Master artist and I take every opportunity to absorb as much as I can. Every tree lined country road or golden field is a work of His hand. Last year, on a perfect Indian summer day, I was inspired to write this poem as I watched my son and...

  • FISHIN' WITH OUR DAD

    Marlane Lillian Mazur|Updated Sep 28, 2013

    This summer was the best I had I got to go fishin’ with our Dad. Dad put the worm on my hook I didn’t like that so I just never looked. Fished by the lake, side by side Then we went for a long boat ride. Sat by the fire late at night Big yellow moon was shining bright Looked up at the sky, tried counting the stars, Saw the Big Dipper maybe Mars! Sang camping songs, what a fun week! Even watched lightning bugs, play hide and seek. Little sis never made any fuss at all In her sl...

  • SUMMER WIND

    Marlane Lillian Mazur|Updated Sep 28, 2013

    It is early in the morning but already Bright Sun feels hot. I look up at the vast prairie sky. “Thank You, Creator,” I say as Summer Wind blows cool, refreshing air on my neck. I help Mama water the thirsty vegetables in our garden. I wish I could see Summer Wind but it is invisible so I smile knowing it is there. After my chores and breakfast, Mama packs me a lunch, and I ride my bike to my friend’s house. Everything is quiet along our country road. Summer Wind gives me a...

  • A Face in the Crowd

    Marlane Lillian Mazur|Updated May 25, 2013

    I will always remember a beautiful Sunday morning when I drove across the rolling farmlands of Nebraska. For as far as my eye could see, the fields were aglow with blooming sunflowers, set against a vast blue sky. I remember smiling and feeling that I had entered a sanctuary. All were standing in unity, as though worshiping Creator. On my right, a display of bright faces, stretching upwards, focused on their life source—the sun. To my left, the opposite side. I was in their m...

  • A Walk in the Woods

    Marlane Lillian Mazur|Updated Mar 17, 2013

    As soon as the sun shines warm once more I put on my boots and run out the door! Dad yells “Hold on!” I stop and wait. Old Shep barks. Dad opens the gate. The earth is refreshed and springing ahead. God’s waking up everything, out of its bed. After the rain on a path through the forest, Hear the birds singing! A springtime chorus! The geese are returning, soaring high. I hear lambs, in their pen nearby. Spider web’s lace is holding rain drops That sparkle and glisten through...

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