Deck the Halls and other Traditions

Every year after the Christmas decorations are up and the tree is glistening in all its glory, I play my favorite CD that was purchased at a Christmas pageant called “Child of the Promise” written and produced by Michael & Stormie Omartian. My husband also purchased an album because we were not yet married, and we each wanted our own copy.

Hearing Bible verses sung by Donna Summer, Steven Curtis Chapman, Vince Gill, Amy Grant, and Michael W. Smith, to name a few, really gets me in the mood for Christmas.

After my divorce from my children’s father, and the scattering of my children to the far corners of the U.S; I was left feeling shattered and broken. I had always loved this Holy holiday, but after this I could barely deal with Christmas. When the last two were gone, I stopped decorating altogether. It brought back too many precious, but painful memories.

It wasn’t until I met my current husband 16 years ago that I finally began to celebrate Christmas in baby steps. 

My dear husband helped me to heal. He stood by me, cared for me, and restored my faith in myself and in my God.

I remembered those long ago years when I filled up the empty spaces in my heart with work and good deeds. I Decked the Halls to excess, and cooked up a storm for friends and family. I started so many new traditions each year that I could hardly keep up with them. So in looking for a topic for this blog, I decided to forewarn you: beware of what you start. It has to be done each year (others will demand it), and what you add makes your annual job get bigger and bigger.

My traditions started with the making and decorating of a Gingerbread House. Of course, the children plastered the house and yard with so many candies that the roof became top heavy, but that was part of its charm. After Christmas, they looked forward to smashing the house and eating the candy-covered pieces. I also rolled out gingerbread men for ornaments at the same time.

Then there was the making of doughnuts for our Christmas morning breakfast. I prepared cake doughnuts and risen ones that were frosted and sprinkled with coconut, slivered almonds and candy. I served these with slices of orange for nutrition and home-made eggnog. We never worried about salmonella back then. I guess we were either lucky or blessed.

I also baked various cookies and arranged platters for some of our friends. One couple said it was the prettiest tray of cookies they had ever seen. Of course, their praise gave me incentive to widen my list and bake some more. I also loved to make mini poppy-seed cakes for gifts and family, and special breads like stollen, and muffin sized cherry cheese cakes.

We lived in Kansas City and had incorporated local menus into our holiday traditions.  Barbecued brisket was a favorite, along with the usual trimmings, cheesy potatoes, green beans cooked with ham bits and onions, fresh whole cranberry relish, crab dip and a shrimp cocktail that was made to be drunk in a cup. I cooked so much that in my “old age” I cannot even bear to read a recipe let alone cook one.

Now I’m apt to buy some or most of our traditional meals unless my husband decides to cook his favorite stuffing for a turkey. He does almost all of our cooking, anyway. Whenever I risk a foray into the kitchen my nerves start to frazzle and all the work I did in the past comes barreling back like a bad dream rather than a cause for rejoicing.

But the most important parts of our family traditions have stayed with me. After our Christmas Eve banquet, we’d gather together dressed in our robes and towels and read from the Bible re-creating a live Nativity Scene. 

I can still see the number of new babies in our household that played the part of baby Jesus over the years. A child would progress from baby Jesus to angel, and then to Shepherd. The older ones played Joseph and Mary.

When I listen to “Child of the Promise” it brings those images back, in a good way. There are times when I wish I could have my children all with me once again. I loved the hours spent rocking in their grandfather’s old chair. Drying tears, comforting sorrows, bandaging skinned knees and all the other motherly services performed of which I never grew weary. Each task was special in my heart. 

Imagine rocking the Christ Child?  I treasure the words to my favorite Carol “Mary did you know.”

Mary, did you know
That your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Mary, did you know
That your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know
That your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you've delivered
Will soon deliver you

Mary, did you know
That your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?
Mary, did you know
That your baby boy will calm a storm with His hand?
Did you know
That your baby boy has walked where angels trod?
And when you kiss your little baby
You've kissed the face of God

Mary, did you know?
The blind will see
The deaf will hear
And the dead will live again
The lame will leap
The dumb will speak
The praises of the Lamb

Mary, did you know
That your baby boy is Lord of all creation?
Mary, did you know
That your baby boy will one day rule the nations?
Did you know
That your baby boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?
This sleeping child you're holding
Is the Great I Am

Oh Mary did you know?

An old favorite by Kenny Rogers and Winona Judd

A more modern version with Pentatonix:  

Howdy, ya’ll, from Texas – Hot Dog!

Beautiful mosaic -- San Antonio, Texas

The party’s over and now I must get back to work. I had a wonderful time in Texas with my girls and their families. I’ll share a few photos with you in this blog. I still haven’t decided which direction I want to take my writing and artwork from here, but have a few possibilities in mind.

As Dorothy said in Oz, “There’s no place like home.” It’s always good to get back to your own bed and closet. Bending over a suitcase and rummaging through your clothes each day is wearing after awhile. Getting back to your own T.V. shows and news is like putting on a familiar pair of slippers; not red glass ones, but slouchy worn ones.

Amelia playing the piano for grandma.

Not to say we didn’t have a grand time. So good to see my loved ones, and glad to renew our affection and appreciation for their husbands and dear grandchildren. I told my girls not to worry about “showing us around;” that we'd come to see them.

Sadly they all must work and so were gone most of the day. In Houston, we played games and giggled a lot. Mark is a VP at NPR and Holly is part of a Christian homeschooling team that works much like a private school does. Although teaching was winding up, there were planning and organizing meetings to attend. We did our best to either tag along or see them in between their busy lives.

Paula and Holly, my two Texas girls.

Nathan and Bella

Holly drove us to see her sister in San Antonio. Paula was still teaching classes and organizing an art show that we were fortunate to attend. Her sister helped her hang the artwork while Paula was teaching. It was a wonderful show, and I was so proud of my girls.

I met many of the art students who seemed to dearly love their teacher. Some of these students had never seen an art show, let alone participate in one. 

Most of the students in Paula's classes are Hispanic. Four of the student’s were selected to enter their artwork in a state competition. They were so proud!

We drove into San Antonio one day to experience “River Walk” and to see the “Alamo.” Well worth the trip. We ate in a fantastic restaurant and listened to a live Mariachi Band. Rainbow colored umbrellas housed tables at the many cafe's along either side of the river. Tour boats flowed in the channel and passengers waved to us as we walked.

Flowers were growing or hanging everywhere. My spirit was lifted at every turn. We did not actually go inside the Alamo, but sat on a stone wall and watched people come and go as we rested our feet.

Tyler, Nathan, me and grandpa Dick

The week went by so quickly! Since I have six children, it is usually two or three years sometimes more before I’ll see them again. We couldn’t live further apart. Their dad and I traveled and worked in many different parts of the country, and now our children do the same.

Our next trip we will be back to Atlanta in June for my son’s wedding (Chris). We stayed with them when they invited us for Thanksgiving last November. Georgia is one of our favorite places. We may even return via Savannah for its relaxing charm and good food. We will be driving up rather than flying, which gives us more time to enjoy the ambiance.

I hope ya'll have a wonderful summer. Take time to “smell the roses” and allow yourself to be inspired.

The Alamo

When we drove back, we had to change routes because of this flooding. Texas has been inundated with rain.

Enjoy Each Blessed Moment and make Happy Memories

Greetings from Florida.

Join me to the tune of “Sleigh Bells Ring.”

Seagulls sing, are you list’nin’?
At the beach, surf is glist’nin’,
A beautiful sight, a sunset tonight,
Walkin’ in a winter wonderland.

Stored away are the snow skis,
Here we stay in our short sleeves,
You sing a new song, “This is where we belong!”
Livin’ in a winter wonderland.

In the yard, we can trim a palm tree,
Then pretend to shovel lots of snow,
You’ll say, “Do you miss it?”, I’ll say, “No ma’am,”
“I feel younger by the minute don’t you know.”

Later on we’ll conspire,
And grill some shrimp on the fire,
The plans we have made include sun and shade,
Walkin’ in a winter wonderland.
News Press, McGregor ©1993
(and thanks to my friend, Junie)

(My sister's festive house)

(Oak trees get a glimmer of Christmas in Florida) 

As we celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah and other religious and spiritual celebrations we need to be more respectful of each other’s customs and traditions. These practices are what make families strong and nations great. They are the threads that weave through society and hold people together. Our differences should not divide us, but create pattern, texture and variation.

Small people and small minds create walls. Character builds bridges. Character and empathy brought the Berlin wall down. Hatred diminishes, engulfs and finally destroys.

“I found that by forgiving them (the Nazis), I held the ultimate power and the pain stopped.” From “Finding Rebecca” by Eoin Dempsey (great book!)

Grace and forgiveness brought God’s son to earth in the form of a babe to bring salvation to mankind if they would but believe.

"Mother and Child" brush drawing in oil (My beautiful daughter Holly with her first daughter.)

Hatred nailed Jesus Christ to the cross denying His divinity but fulfilling prophecy found in Isaiah 53 and Zechariah that the Messiah would be born in a little town of Bethlehem. And “He would be called wonderful, counselor, the everlasting Father the Prince of Peace.”

Even non-believers get caught up in the spirit of the “Season of Giving.” For one blessed night commemorating the eve of His birth brotherly love is felt and experienced. Wars are often paused. Sickness is healed. The chains of hatred and sin are broken as people around the world worship His Holy name.

Palm trees wrapped in lights.

Sadly we’re in a political season of mud-slinging and division. This quote from George Orwell over 50 years ago still holds true. We’d do well to remember it.

“Political language . . . is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.” George Orwell

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Hanukkah everybody! Have a blessed season.

A Christmas Wedding takes my Holiday Plans into Overdrive

"Saguaro Cactus"

My tail is dragging; how about yours? Sooo hard to get back to work after the holidays; and, of course, another celebration is looming ahead.

I’ve been on the fly, literally. We had company on Christmas day, and the next morning, we flew out for my grandson’s wedding in Phoenix, Arizona. I had jet lag the whole time we were there. Couldn’t sleep in the full-sized bed (no tossing and turning allowed!) and kept awake by strange and unfamiliar noises.

A fallen cactus, petrifying; illustrates how pourus they are

On the return flight, Sunday, I simply couldn’t keep my eyes open. I spent the whole flight bobbing my head and snapping my neck whenever my mouth began to sag. Our flight had a layover in Indianapolis and left an hour late because of a freezing rain. The warmth that greeted us when we stepped off the plane in Fort Myers was a huge welcome home.

"Joshua Tree" and desert terrain

I once lived in Phoenix, so I was eager to return and find out what I’d missed. Couldn’t believe the changes that had taken place! The city had gone from a sleepy, Mexican hacienda-like atmosphere to a thriving metropolis with super highways and luxury accommodations. Still, the desert’s resounding voice spoke volumes about constancy, permanency, and the wisdom of the ages.

Saguaro cacti, the sentinels of the desert, reminded us of our eternal nature and the timeless quality of our existence. I photographed Joshua Trees, prickly pear cactus, and the unusual vegetation and trees that grow in spite of the intense heat of summer. For we Floridians, the evening temperatures seemed frigid; plunging from a daytime high of 74 and then back to 46 degrees overnight.

My fourth child was born in Phoenix. This was her first time back since she was three years old. One of our family pleasures was to take walks on the desert floor in late January and February when the cacti were in bloom. Colorful splotches of pink, yellow, and red were masterfully dotted over the terrain with a Master’s brush. The sand underfoot became a velvet cover of green that would burn off by mid March.

There is magic in the desert. Silence is broken only by the chirp of a bird or the monotone humming of bees. There is space. The vastness of the land spreads endlessly before you and as far as the eye can see making you feel small and insignificant in return; a good place to put your life in perspective. Problems seem minuscule in comparison.

I wish we’d spent more time there. When I made the reservations, I was thinking in “wedding” terms only. Now I wish we had stuffed in a few extra days for sightseeing and pleasure. As always, hind sight is more valuable than making snap judgments. I hope your holidays were well spent and enjoyed. In the meantime, Happy New Year everyone!

"another Joshua Tree"

"prickly pear" cactus

Site of a family hike; all the way up to the rock ridges and the top!

Halloween Fun may turn into Halloween Horror

 When my children were younger; we had a large, legal filing box filled with costumes. Each year new costumes were added after every holiday. There were Halloween costumes, wigs, noses, and masks; and there were school play costumes, patriotic costumes from neighborhood Fourth of July parades, and pilgrim’s costumes to celebrate our two son’s birthdays that fell during the Thanksgiving holiday.

This box grew more popular each year as the number of costumes grew. The neighborhood kids loved them as much as my own children. The costumes were used year round, even in the summer when the kids wanted to play “dress-up.” Photographs over the years have documented the fun they had.

Most of the costumes were homemade; and many of them were easy to make. We had Indian costumes complete with moccasins and feathers. Colonial costumes in red white and blue, and a British Beefeater complete with a fur-topped hat that was once worn when it was in style.

My favorite costume that every toddler in the family wore was an old white pillow case that draped over the child and fell to the ankles. Ears were tied with string to make floppy rabbit ears. A face was a round circle so the child’s face could smile through. A cotton tail was glued on the back in the appropriate spot.

This costume was harmless and funny back in the days when mom and dad took turns walking their children through friendly neighborhoods. I miss those days. Rarely do I see children in our neighborhood on Halloween. Most of them attend costume parties at their churches or schools, or the local shopping mall where store owners distribute candy. It’s a dangerous world we live in.

In today’s world, some of those imaginary goblins and monsters are real, preying on the innocent and unsuspecting. Every few weeks, a small child disappears from our neighborhoods, sometimes even plucked from their own beds while the family sleeps. We must find a way to stop this atrocity. Our children are not only the future of the world; they are our pride and joy. Each one is precious!

Evil is real. Satanic powers are real. If we are to protect the future and our children, we must find ways to eradicate evil, rather than celebrate it! 

Everyone loves being scared or pretending to be afraid of Horror shows and Haunted Houses. But does it really end there? Even here in Fort Myers there is a Zombie Festival this weekend where people dress up in gore, win prizes, and drag their half-dead bodies through the streets. Hundreds of people look forward to participating in it, but it’s not my “cup of tea.” I only hope the influence of that evening will not reap negative consequences.

Have a safe Halloween everyone.