SFPNN Special Edition –
Join us on-line at: http://www.sfpnn.com/
________________________________________________________________
Thanks to everyone who contributed to today’s Special Edition 2007 Christmas
Issue!
Take your time as you read through and savor each of the stories. It may require more than one sitting but I hope you’ll feel the spirit of Christmas in all of its diversity as you read through this year’s Christmas Special Edition.
I encourage you to share this issue with your friends and family.
May you and yours be blessed this magical season and throughout the year ahead. Merry Christmas one and all!
With Much Love and Gratitude,
Sir Froggie’s Positive News Network
________________________________________________________________
Today’s Special Edition is much longer
than usual. Should you find any of the
text truncated or that it’s too difficult to read in e-mail format please use
the following link to view it on-line:
http://www.sfpnn.com/PNNs/Special2007/ps121407.htm
The following is an index of the stories
What Would Santa Do? - by Joseph Walker
Santa?! – by Ashley Zapot
Blessing on the Eve of Christmas Eve – by Larry Hogan
The First Christmas Gift
Getting Into the Spirit of Christmas – by Jackie Headland
Christmas Love – by Linda Leach Johannessen
12 Days
– by Straight No Chaser
It Is Always the Season – by Ellie Braun-Haley
Ripples We Make – by Ellie Braun-Haley
Christmas Adventure with Grandma
Peace of Earth? – by Joseph Walker
Christmas Season Movie – by Make A Difference.com
The Christmas Hitchhiker – by Joan Wester
Christmas with Louise
Letting 2008 Know Who’s Boss – by Joseph Walker
________________________________________________________________
— Thanks to author, Joseph Walker
WHAT WOULD SANTA DO?
By Joseph Walker
It was late
Christmas Eve, and Chris was finally making his nightly fatherly rounds.
Thankfully,
the children were . . . you know . . . the whole “nestled all snug in their
beds” thing. And while Chris couldn’t
vouch for any dancing sugarplums – visionary or otherwise – the children did
seem sweetly, blissfully content.
Even Blizzard
seemed unusually peaceful. Blizzard was
8-year-old Steven’s white speckled hamster, and he was usually still scampering
around his little glass house when Chris came in to turn out the lights and
tuck Steven in bed. But on this
Christmas Eve, Blizzard was just . . . you know . . . sitting there. Well, actually, laying there. Awkwardly. Motionless. Really, really motionless.
Like he was asleep. Like he was in a coma. Like he was . . .
Suddenly that
particular Christmas Eve took a decidedly Dickensian turn: “Blizzard was
dead. There was no doubt whatever about
that . . . Old Blizzard was dead as a door-nail.”
And Chris
wasn’t sure what to do about it.
“All I could
think of was Steven waking up on Christmas morning, horrified to discover his
cold, dead pet,” Chris said. “I didn’t
want to have that happen. And yet I knew
he would notice if Blizzard wasn’t there in the morning. So the hamster couldn’t just . . .
disappear.”
Unfortunately,
there isn’t a chapter in the Parent’s Handbook for “What to do When Your
Child’s Hamster Dies on Christmas Eve.”
Chris searched his heart for an appropriate response.
“And then I
had the strangest thought,” Chris said.
“For some reason I asked myself something I had never asked myself
before: What would Santa do?”
A course of
action immediately became clear to Chris.
He carefully retrieved Blizzard’s body – may he rest in peace – and
replaced it with a handwritten note.
“Dear Steven,”
the note read. “Before I left the
presents under your tree and treats in your stocking I checked to make sure you
were asleep. Unfortunately, I noticed
that Blizzard had gone to hamster heaven.
Don’t worry – I’ll pick out a new hamster tomorrow and send it to
you. You’ve been a very good boy. You deserve a very special hamster. Love, Santa.”
On Christmas
morning Steven burst into his parents’ room with his note from Santa. He was excited. Then he was sad. Then he was excited again. The day after Christmas a new hamster arrived
– just like Santa promised – and Steven was delighted. So, evidently, was Rudolph (well, what else
are you going to name a Christmas hamster with a red nose?).
And Steven’s
dad was grateful that he could figure out what Santa would do.
Now, some may
feel that the “what would Santa do?” approach is a tad irreverent – especially
since it features a character whose very existence is . . . shall we say
“controversial”? By no means am I
suggesting that we deflect focus from the Real, True Hero of Christmas, whose
birth we commemorate during this wonderful season. But what would be wrong with occasionally
trying to do what Santa would do?
For example,
we know that Santa is jolly. The world
could certainly use more “jolly” these days, don’t you think? Santa is also a giver. Giving is good, isn’t it – especially when
the giver expects so little in return?
Santa works hard all year to reward “nice” – not “naughty.” After watching this year’s antics of sports
stars and pseudo-celebrities, I’m all for that.
As a holiday
figure, Santa represents only good things: happiness, giving, caring, sharing,
loving, motivating – traits that might also be applied
to that real, true Hero we were just talking about. These are all things that He would do.
And, it turns out, it’s what Santa would do, too.
Merry Christmas!
-- © Joseph
Walker
For more from Joseph Walker see his column ValueSpeak
at http://www.sfpnn.com/joseph_walker1.htm
E-mail Joseph at: valuespeak@msn.com
* * *
— Thanks to the Zapot Family
SANTA?!
By Ashley Zapot
http://www.sfpnn.com/PNNs/Special2007/Santa.htm
For an original heart-warming and humorous Christmas Story written by a delightful young girl named Ashley, please use the above link.
Ashley’s story won first place in her school’s writing contest. But it didn’t stop there! Ashley and her Mom convinced their family to “illustrate” her story with live photos! This is a must see and must read!
(But don’t show Grandma & Grandpa Stark or Auntie Tracy ‘til AFTER Christmas. It’s a surprise!)
* * *
—
Dedicated to Pam Hogan
Blessing on the eve of Christmas Eve
By Larry Hogan
On
From the moment Pam returned
home we were blessed with her spirit of light and life. The holidays being a
favorite time of year things happened immediately to encourage me and my three
children. Pam was confined to a wheelchair due to the cancer. But she had been
at the hospital for a week and I was determined to bring her to the dinner
table as long as we were able to share meals. This would be our first dinner
together.
As we sat at our table with the
food prepared, the intimacy of family was strong. I looked at my children and
wife feeling truly blessed to share the meal time and said to Pam, “Sweetheart,
would you say the blessing this evening?” We bowed our heads expecting her
words, but she sang “For health and strength and daily bread we give thee
thanks, O Lord. For health and strength and daily bread we give thee thanks, O
Lord.” “Amen” (spoken).
By the time the word “health”
had come from her mouth, we had all joined in the singing. Pam and I had sung
it with our children from the very start. The girls were then 16 and 13, our
son 9.
Looking back on that moment it has crystallized in my mind. This was the marking of a moment of thankfulness and faith that encourages me still today.
Even with the knowledge of
hospice care in place, cancer that had spread throughout her body, and confinement
to bed and wheelchair, Pam was able in that moment to hope and inspire through
singing a prayer “for health and strength and daily bread, we give thee thanks,
O Lord.” The moment still touches my heart as I reminisce.
- Larry Hogan copyright Dec 2007
* * *
— Thanks to Wanni S.
THE FIRST CHRISTMAS
The First
Christmas Gift
(Or)
http://www.andiesisle.com/thefirstchristmasgift.hs.html
The above link features a very sweet and beautiful video presentation of The
First Christmas Gift.
* * *
— Thanks to
Getting INTO The Spirit Of Christmas
By Jackie Headland
I have always loved the
Christmas season and in particular, the wonderful spirit that it
generates. You know,
that spirit of happiness and friendliness; the one of smiles and helping hands,
Christmas trees and snow, excited children and Christmas carols? That spirit doesn't always come automatically,
but it does come - whenever you're really ready for it.
Here are some inexpensive ways
to open yourself to the spirit of Christmas:
* Be the first to say 'Merry
Christmas!'
* Each day give at least one
sincerely meant compliment to someone – particularly those you find it hard to
compliment.
* Spend a couple of hours with
your kids or grandkids making decorations.
Go on – let your inner child out to play!
* Smile at someone who looks
grumpy. Don't let your feelings get hurt
if they don't smile back – these are the folk who really need the warmth of
your smile.
* Give the bank teller and post
office clerk a box of chocolates.
* Wave to Santa at the shopping
centre.
* Tell your kids or grandkids
what Christmas was like when you were a child.
You might not think things were so different, but they are to a child,
and they love hearing about the things you got up to as a child.
* Tell your kids or grandkids
about the first Christmas you spent with them, the joy you felt at sharing it
with them. Show them photographs of
their first Christmas day they love that!
* Have an informal open house
instead of a formal party. Put out some
food, light the tree, send invitations to all your neighbours
and enjoy the company.
* Offer home made hot chocolate
(keep a pot ready to heat) or a non-alcoholic hot punch to everyone who comes
to your door, especially the postman. I
appreciate my postman so much, he or she trudges through rain, sleet and snow
in winter, and sweltering temperatures in summer to
deliver my mail. Give your postman a
small gift.
* Wear a sprig of holly, a small
ornament or a tartan ribbon on your lapel or in your hair. Our local taxi driver has a very fetching tie
that lights up and plays a Christmas carol; his wife (also a taxi driver) wears
glitzy Christmas earrings that light up.
* Decorate your car - hang an
ornament from the rear view mirror, or hang a wreath on the front bumper.
* Sing 'Jingle Bells' while
cooking dinner.
* Help elderly neighbours, family and friends put up decorations. (Don't forget to help them take them down
again later!)
* Sign your Christmas cards with a red, green,
silver or gold pen.
* Make donations to charities.
* Hug a child.
* Turn off the lights, the TV
and the stereo and sit quietly in the light of the Christmas tree and
appreciate and give thanks for all the good things in your life.
I wish you a very Merry Christmas, and a
Happy, Healthy, Peaceful, Passionate and Successful New Year.
Keep on shining!
Kind regards,
Jackie
"Connect With Your
Abundance" Christmas Message Newsletter
If you'd like to learn more about Jackie,
please feel free to visit her websites:
http://www.jackieheadland.com/
www.hotflashesadventurersclub.com
* * *
— Thanks to author, Linda Leach
Johannessen
Dedicated to Amy
CHRISTMAS LOVE
By
Linda Leach Johannessen
Our family isn't very large and
we don't get together very often. But we
do gather for holiday occasions. One
thing the cousins liked most about Christmas Eve was being at my mother-in-law's
house....better known as Grandma's.
That's where the grandchildren enjoyed our family gatherings best.
Our daughter Amy would bake
cookies and carefully place them in decorative tin cans and give them to her
uncles as an added treat with their present.
Since her passing, the holiday hasn't been the same for any of us, and
it hasn't mattered where we spend Christmas Eve.
Four years ago we spent it at
our house. Since it was going to be here, I decided that maybe I would bake the
cookies Amy used to make. I hadn't baked
anything since she'd passed. Thinking it
might be nice to have a little holiday spirit, I tuned in a radio station
playing Christmas carols and hymns. I
pulled out Amy's cookie sheets and racks and began making the dough.
Just as I began to scoop the
dough onto the cookie sheets, I found myself singing along to Julie Andrew's,
"My
Favorite Things", from the Sound of Music. Amy loved that movie, I thought to
myself. Then it occurred to me that
making cookies was one of Amy's favorite things to do!
I had decorated the fireplace
mantel and placed a small artificial tree on it's
hearth. On the living room coffee table
I had two red Christmas candles in my prettiest candlestick holders. At the
last minute I decided the table needed a little more color. I scrambled around the house looking for
something that would make it look a little more festive. All I could come up with was some potpourri. It was mostly red and green! That'll work! Good enough!! I put some in a round bowl and placed 4 votive
candles in the mix. It looked rather
pretty when it was lit. As desperate as
I was, I didn't have these candles in glass votive holders. They just sat in the potpourri mix! I MUST REMEMBER TO BLOW THEM OUT BEFORE WE
SIT DOWN TO DINNER!
Well, my memory is short term to
say the least, and indeed I forgot.
Goodness knows how much time we sat in the dining room, enjoying dinner,
conversation, coffee and dessert!
When we finally came back into
the living room my heart skipped a beat as I realized I'd forgotten to blow out
those candles!!! Three of the candles
had extinguished themselves as they'd melted all the way down to the bottom of
the bowl. The last candle was still burning strong, upright and hardly
melted. How lucky I was the potpourri
didn't ignite! I quickly blew out the
last candle and hoped the family didn't notice my carelessness.
Our Christmas Eve came to a
conclusion. The rest of the holidays
came and went. I began the task of
putting the decorations away. I picked
up the round bowl with the loose potpourri and attempted to put it back into
the bag that I'd taken it from. However,
a clump had formed when the candle wax melted.
I gave the clump a tap to force it out of the bowl. When I did, the loose potpourri around it
fell to the floor. What was left,
sitting in my hand was the clump. It was formed in the shape of nearly perfect
heart! A potpourri heart! I couldn't have made it any better had I
tried.
I then realized that Amy had
been with us Christmas Eve. She was
there when I baked the cookies and she quietly left us her love in the bowl of
red and green potpourri.
— © Linda Leach Johannessen
To see a photo of the Potpourri Heart,
Click: http://www.sfpnn.com/PNNs/Special2007/ChristmasLove.jpg
* * *
— Thanks to Gus C. and
12 Days
By Straight No Chaser
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Fe11OlMiz8&feature=related
This is a great performance, with some added humor, of the 12 Days of Christmas. Even if you’re not a fan of the “12 Days of Christmas” song, this performance is with watching.
* * *
— Thanks to author, Ellie Braun-Haley for the following two stories
IT IS ALWAYS THE SEASON
By Ellie Braun-Haley
As I stood amid the hustle and
bustle of shoppers I noticed the lady behind me anxiously glancing at her
watch. “You can go ahead of me,” I told her.
She beamed and as we traded
places she said, “Well, it is the season isn’t it?”
“Pardon me?” I was not sure what
she meant.
“I think Christmas brings out
the best in all of us. Generous and thoughtful gestures seem to more prominent
in this season.” She explained to me.
“I suppose you are right” I
said, “but in my world it is always the season!”
— © Ellie Braun-Haley, author/speaker
* * *
ripples we make
By Ellie Braun-Haley
When some people have a happy
life they look for ways to bring happiness to others. This was the case with a
group of employees in a bank in
Dianne was recovering from an
extremely rough time. She had been a manager for a business in
That December Dianne,
was phoned and asked by a caseworker if she would consider allowing an unnamed
group of employees to provide her with some Christmas gifts. Dianne said that
she would be appreciative of anything they gave her. She was then asked about
her favorite perfume and if she had towels and the clothing sizes of herself
and her toddler. The representative asked her if she could name anything in
particular that she really wanted. Since she did not have a vacuum cleaner,
silverware, teakettle, ironing board or a dozen other items we might consider
basic, it was a simple task to provide answers. Dianne said above all else she
would really like a tea kettle for herself and any kind of toy for the baby
that could come apart and be put back together again.
Gaining insight from this
information, the bank employees made their decisions. They supplied the basics
and then went overboard. All kinds of gifts greeted Dianne and her little girl.
Among them was a lovely tailored new green suit for Dianne.
Months later, I saw the green
suit for the first time and I complimented Dianne on it. Her face lit up with
the memories and good feelings she had toward the employees of a branch of
Canada Trust. She smiled and told me the beautiful story of how she received
it.
The bank employees never met
Dianne, nor did they see the pleasure and joy their gifts brought to this young
woman as a direct result of their actions. They never met Dianne or the baby,
yet their gesture of good will in December of one year was still rippling out
more than a year later affecting Dianne, then me as I heard the story.
Dianne was separated from the
love and support of her family that year by thousands of miles. Now every year
her mother sends out positive thoughts and a prayer of thanksgiving to a group
of Canadians who played Santa Clause to her daughter. Dianne is my daughter.
Our every word, our every action can affect the world around us. Here’s hoping the impression we leave behind is always positive.
— © Ellie Braun-Haley, author/speaker
* * *
— Thanks to Carole,
Christmas Adventure with Grandma
By
A. Nonymous
I remember my first Christmas
adventure with Grandma...I was just a kid.
I remember tearing across town
on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There
is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy
kind, never had been.
I fled to her that day because I
knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I
knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one
of her 'world-famous' cinnamon buns.
I knew they were world-famous,
because Grandma said so. It had to be true!!!!!!
Grandma was home, and the buns
were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything.
She was ready for me. "No
Santa Claus?" She snorted..."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor
has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on
your coat, and let's go."
"Go? Go where,
Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second 'world-famous'
cinnamon bun.
"Where" turned out to
be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that
had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors,
Grandma handed me ten dollars.
That was a bundle in those days.
"Take this money," she said, "and buy something
for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car."
Then she turned and walked out
of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old.
I'd often gone shopping with my
mother, but NEVER had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed
big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.
For a few moments I just stood
there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who
on earth to buy it for.
I thought of everybody I knew:
my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, and the people who
went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of
Bobby Decker.
He was a kid with bad breath and
messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby
Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess
during the winter.
His mother always wrote a note,
telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker
didn't have a cough; he just didn't have a good warm coat.
I fingered the ten-dollar bill
with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one
that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.
"Is this a Christmas
present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid
my ten dollars down.
"Yes, ma'am," I
replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."
The nice lady smiled at me, as I
told her about how Bobby really needed a good warm winter coat. I didn't get
any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry
Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me
wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons (a little tag fell out of the
coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa
Claus" on it.
Grandma said that Santa ALWAYS
insisted on secrecy!
Then she drove me over to Bobby
Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially,
one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street
from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by
his front walk.
Then Grandma gave me a nudge.
"All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."
I took a deep breath, dashed for
his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew
back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly
in the darkness for the front door to open!!!!
Finally it did, and there stood
Bobby.
Well...
Fifty years haven't dimmed the
thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's
bushes.
That night, I realized that
those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were:
'ridiculous'! Santa WAS alive and well, and WE were on HIS team!!!
I STILL have Grandma's Bible,
with the coat tag tucked inside: $29.95.
May you always have LOVE to share,
HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...
And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!
* * *
— Thanks to author, Joseph Walker, and all those who strive to create Peace.
PEACE ON EARTH?
By Joseph Walker
It was a
crisp, clear December morning. The final remnants of last week’s blustery
snowfall lay scattered in icy patches here and there, crunching when you
stepped on them and melting – oh, so slowly – when you didn’t.
Christmas
decorations, from the tacky to the sublime, were everywhere, and Christmas
music (Anita calls it “spending music”) gently hummed from every speaker in
every store and office building.
It was “that”
time of year again. So . . . why wasn’t I feeling “that” way?
For some
reason the streets and malls seem a little less crowded this year. My
Christmas shopping is almost done. And it’s been fun to watch our
granddaughters – now a year older, and a year wiser to the ways of Christmas –
respond to the lights and the excitement.
But there’s a
bittersweet feeling to the holiday season. My country is at war, and
every other day seems to be proclaimed “the bloodiest” since... well, since the
last bloody day.
And that
changes everything. Suddenly, Longfellow’s words are packed with meaning:
And in despair I bowed by
head:
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”
Then I talked
to Greg, a work associate who is also a long-time member of the U.S. Army Reserve.
Greg’s unit has been called up, which means he’ll be leaving for
“The Army has
been good to me for 21 years, and I really haven’t had to do much in return,”
he told me recently. “I’m not going to start whining and complaining now
that I’m being asked to do the very thing I’ve been trained to do. It’s
my turn to go. It’s my duty. I consider it an honor to serve, I
really do.”
Which is not to say that Greg isn’t feeling some anxiety
over his departure.
“Sure, I’m
nervous – for me and for my family,” he said. “But you know what?
I’m also pretty calm. But it seems to me that if you’re living your life
the best that you can and you’re doing what you think is right you can deal
with pretty much anything.”
“Besides,” he
added, “it’s Christmas! How can anybody be uptight at Christmas?”
Hold it.
Was I missing something? I assumed the season would deepen his hurt and
frustration at the prospect of going off to war. But even though Greg
didn’t relish the idea of being away from his family for the holiday, he found
soothing comfort and peace in the decorations, the lights and the music of the
season.
That’s when it
occurred to me that maybe the concept of “peace on earth, good will toward men”
is more of an attitude than a compilation of current events and
circumstances. Perhaps real peace comes from within, and has more to do
with how we decide to approach the challenges that life thrusts upon us than
the reality of those challenges themselves. With the right attitude, a
bitter winter blizzard becomes water for the garden next spring. Higher
gas prices present an opportunity to get more exercise and save the environment
by doing less driving. A tour of duty in
And Christmas
begins to feel . . . well . . Christmassy
once again.
Till ringing, singing on its
way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men!
-- ©
Joseph Walker
For more from Joseph Walker see his column ValueSpeak
at http://www.sfpnn.com/joseph_walker1.htm
E-mail Joseph at: valuespeak@msn.com
* * *
— Thanks to the Transformations Newsletter at www.changeforgood.com
Christmas season movie
By Make a Difference.com
http://www.christmasseasonmovie.com/2/
The above “movie” runs a full five minutes.
In our fast paced world, five minutes can seem like forever – at first. I encourage you to allow yourself the
pleasure of slowing down long enough to watch the full video and truly
relax. So sit back and enjoy.
* * *
— Thanks to author Joan Wester Anderson
The Christmas hitchhiker
By Joan Wester
James Raffan
works as a miner in a small town in
“He didn’t have much on, just a
jean jacket and blue jeans,” Jim reports, “and it was so cold that I had to
stop.” The man approached Jim’s car. Possibly mid thirties, dark, curly hair,
and in need of a shave…. “When he got in the car I caught a whiff of booze but
not really overpowering, he kind of struck me as a guy just down on his luck,”
Jim says. The two introduced themselves, and James headed for the next major
town, where he lived. Silence descended for a few minutes; then Jim couldn’t
resist asking the obvious question: “How come you’re out hitchhiking on
Christmas Eve?”
“Well, I had a big fight with my
wife, and I took off,” the man explained. “We just got married here 2 weeks ago
and I guess it was a little much for me, and I ran out on her. But now all I
want to do is be with her on Christmas. I called her and told I was sorry and I
was coming home to be with her. I got no money, so I have to hitch hike.”
“Where is she, where do you need
to get to?” James asked.
“She’s in
“Really, man?” the hitchhiker
turned to him. “Could you do that? I mean, that would be the greatest… of
course I would go home, it would be the best Christmas…her parents are supposed
to be coming in to town to be with her. I could see them again and, you know,
make up for leaving like I did.”
He seemed pretty excited, James
noticed. And---coincidentally----James’ father then owned a small truck stop in
town, which was the Greyhound bus depot for the area. Further, James often
worked late at the truck stop, and had a set of keys.
“We chatted a little bit more,
and eventually pulled into the station,” James says. “I unlocked the door and
we both went in. It didn’t take more than ten minutes to fill out the ticket.
We grabbed some goodies for him to eat while he waited for the bus and headed
back outside. The bus wouldn’t be there for another couple of hours so I took
him over to my old pickup that I kept at the store, so he would have a warm
place to wait for the bus.
“You can run the pickup to keep warm.,” James told him “The express bus should be here at
The stranger smiled. “Thank
you,” he said simply.
“Do you need anything else
before I leave?”
“No, thanks,
Merry Christmas.”
“You too.”
The men shook hands, and James
turned to walk back to the store to lock it up. When he turned around---just a
few seconds later----he noticed that the pickup wasn’t running. Maybe the
hitchhiker was having difficulty starting it. James walked back and looked
inside. There was no one there.
“Initially I was worried,” James
says. “I thought that maybe he had more to drink then I suspected, and he could
die in weather this cold.” But as James began to look around, the wide open
expanse of driveway and buildings, the fresh newly-fallen snow covering
everything, he realized that no one could have disappeared that quickly. And
where were the stranger’s footprints? The snow was still undisturbed, He had
completely vanished.
A few days later, James spoke
with the bus driver on the Winnepeg route. “He told
me that he hadn’t picked anyone up at our stop on Christmas Eve,” James says.
“And the ticket was never used.”
James has no “reasonable”
explanation to offer for this experience. “There were no heavenly hosts openly
proclaiming an unfathomable truth,” he says, “but instead, a kind of
encouragement to continue. Maybe these experiences are God’s way of supporting
us in our choice to believe.”
And may more of us believe this
Christmas than ever before.
For more stories of God’s love, check the WhereAngelsWalk website at www.joanwanderson.com . Look at the Archives page too!
* * *
— Thanks to Chuck S. for helping me track down this lost favorite last year.
Editor’s
Note: This story is not for the faint of heart or
those without a twisted sense of humor!
CHRISTMAS WITH LOUISE
This is an article submitted to a 1999
As a joke, my brother used to
hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill
them. What they say about Santa checking
the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's
kids' stockings were overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.
One year I decided to make his
dream come true. I put on sunglasses and
went in search of an inflatable love doll.
They don't sell those things at Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown.
If you've never been in an X-rated store,
don't go. You'll only confuse
yourself. I was there an hour saying
things like, "What does this do?
You're kidding me! Who would buy
that?" Finally, I made it to the
inflatable doll section.
I wanted to buy a standard,
uncomplicated doll that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I
could use the car pool lane during rush hour.
Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love Dolls come in many different models. The
top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I'd only
seen in a book on animal husbandry. I
settled for Lovable Louise. She was at
the bottom of the price scale. To call
Louise a doll took a huge leap of imagination.
On Christmas Eve and with the
help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life.
My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me
in during the wee morning hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled
the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what
remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray.
I went home, and giggled for a couple of hours.
The next morning my brother
called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made
him VERY happy but had left the dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then
come back and bark some more.
We all agreed that Louise should remain in her
panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for
the traditional Christmas dinner.
My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she
walked in the door. "What the heck
is that?" she asked.
My brother quickly explained, "It's a
doll."
"Who would play with something like
that?" Granny snapped.
I had several candidates in mind, but kept my
mouth shut.
"Where are her clothes?" Granny
continued.
"Boy, that turkey sure smells nice Gran" Jay said, to steer her into the dining room.
But Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?"
Again, I could have answered, but why would
I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to
ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny, hang on!"
My
grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said,
"Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?"
I told him she was Jay's friend.
A few
minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be
Grandpa's last Christmas at home.
The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had
died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a
noise like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose, flew
around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa.
The cat
screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through
my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began
administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants.
Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of
the room, and sat in the car.
It was
indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.
Later
in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause
of Louise's collapse. We discovered that
Louise had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.
Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called
duct tape, we restored her to perfect health!
-- Author unknown to us but greatly appreciated!
* * *
— Thanks to author Joseph Walker
LETTING 2008 KNOW WHO’S BOSS
By Joseph Walker
When I think about New Year’s
Eve, I think about pots and pans.
Not for cooking. For banging and clanging
and raising a ruckus.
It was a tradition at our house,
as much a part of our annual New Year’s Eve celebration as the non-alcoholic
“champagne” we drank to toast the New Year (in plastic champagne glasses, of
course) and watching on TV while that big ball came down over Times Square in
New York. Dick Clark would count down
the last seconds of the old year, we would all shout “Happy New Year!” at the
appropriate moment, Mom would make her way around the room kissing everybody
and then we would go outside and pound on pots and pans and make all kinds of
noise.
To be honest, I never cared for
non-alcoholic champagne – my taste always ran more toward Dr Pepper. The magic of the big ball coming down on
Except on New
Year’s Eve.
And that made New Year’s Eve
special, although I wasn’t exactly sure why.
“I don't get it,” I said to Mom
one New Year’s Day. “We don’t go outside
and pound on pots and pans on Christmas Eve or Thanksgiving. We don’t do it on Easter or on
birthdays. The only time we do anything
like it is when we set off fireworks on the Fourth of July, and I know why we
do that. But I don't know why we pound
on pans on New Year’s Eve.”
Mom gave me that why-didn’t-I-stop-after-seven-children
look. As a parent myself, I finally
understand where that look comes from: not having any idea of the answer to the
question. But as anyone who ever played
cards with her knows, Mom was a master bluffer.
“It's an ancient . . . Indian .
. . tradition,” she said, forgetting for a moment that early Native Americans
probably didn’t have many pots or pans upon which to bang. “They believed that every year has its own
spirit, and if you wanted the year to be good you needed to frighten it into
submission from the beginning. So every
New Year the Indians would gather to make all of the noise they could in order
to frighten away evil spirits and motivate good spirits to action.”
That seemed at least as
reasonable to me as flying reindeer, or a rabbit that lays colored chicken
eggs.
“So when we’re out there banging
on pots and pans, we’re actually chasing away evil spirits?” I asked, sucking
it all in like the huge, pre-adolescent sponge that I was.
“Well, yes,” she said. “But mostly, we’re trying to let the new year know who’s in charge.”
And that isn’t such a bad idea,
when you stop and think about it. New
years can be a little scary, filled as they are with hidden traps and unknown
obstacles. Maybe if we set our anxiety
aside and enter the New Year boldly, aggressively, noisily, we’ll convince
ourselves that there’s nothing to fear.
And that we’re in charge – at least for ourselves.
So don’t go gently into 2008. Pound on some pans. Bang on a bucket. Raise a ruckus. The way I see it, even if we don’t scare away
evil spirits, at least we’ll let 2008 know who’s the boss.
And who knows? Maybe we’ll remind ourselves, as well.
-- © Joseph
Walker
For more from Joseph Walker see his column ValueSpeak
at http://www.sfpnn.com/joseph_walker1.htm
E-mail Joseph at: valuespeak@msn.com
* *
* CHECK OUT Joseph Walker's LATest bookS! * * *
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collections:
"Look What Love Has Done:
Five-Minute Messages to Lift Your Spirit."
"How
Can You Mend a Broken Spleen? Home Remedies for an Ailing World."
* * *
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