Come in from the storm!

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The Man and the Birds

PAUL HARVEY’S CHRISTMAS STORY; “THE MAN AND THE BIRDS”
By PAUL HARVEY, ABC RADIO
Dec 24, 2004, 01:57

Unable to trace its proper parentage, I have designated this as my Christmas Story of the Man and the Birds. You know, THE Christmas Story, the God born a man in a manger and all that escapes some moderns, mostly, I think, because they seek complex answers to their questions and this one is so utterly simple. So for the cynics and the skeptics and the unconvinced I submit a modern parable.

Now the man to whom I’m going to introduce you was not a scrooge, he was a kind, decent, mostly good man. Generous to his family, upright in his dealings with other men. But he just didn’t believe all that incarnation stuff which the churches proclaim at Christmas Time. It just didn’t make sense and he was too honest to pretend otherwise. He just couldn’t swallow the Jesus Story, about God coming to Earth as a man. “I’m truly sorry to distress you,” he told his wife, “but I’m not going with you to church this Christmas Eve.” He said he’d feel like a hypocrite. That he’d much rather just stay at home, but that he would wait up for them. And so he stayed and they went to the midnight service.

Shortly after the family drove away in the car, snow began to fall. He went to the window to watch the flurries getting heavier and heavier and then went back to his fireside chair and began to read his newspaper. Minutes later he was startled by a thudding sound. Then another, and then another. Sort of a thump or a thud. At first he thought someone must be throwing snowballs against his living room window. But when he went to the front door to investigate he found a flock of birds huddled miserably in the snow. They’d been caught in the storm and, in a desperate search for shelter, had tried to fly through his large landscape window.

Well, he couldn’t let the poor creatures lie there and freeze, so he remembered the barn where his children stabled their pony. That would provide a warm shelter, if he could direct the birds to it. Quickly he put on a coat, galoshes, tramped through the deepening snow to the barn. He opened the doors wide and turned on a light, but the birds did not come in. He figured food would entice them in. So he hurried back to the house, fetched bread crumbs, sprinkled them on the snow, making a trail to the yellow-lighted wide open doorway of the stable. But to his dismay, the birds ignored the bread crumbs, and continued to flap around helplessly in the snow. He tried catching them. He tried shooing them into the barn by walking around them waving his arms. Instead, they scattered in every direction, except into the warm, lighted barn.

And then, he realized, that they were afraid of him. To them, he reasoned, I am a strange and terrifying creature. If only I could think of some way to let them know that they can trust me. That I am not trying to hurt them, but to help them. But how? Because any move he made tended to frighten them, confuse them. They just would not follow. They would not be led or shooed because they feared him. “If only I could be a bird,” he thought to himself, “and mingle with them and speak their language. Then I could tell them not to be afraid. Then I could show them the way to safe, warm …to the safe warm barn. But I would have to be one of them so they could see, and hear and understand.”

At that moment the church bells began to ring. The sound reached his ears above the sounds of the wind. And he stood there listening to the bells – Adeste Fidelis – listening to the bells pealing the glad tidings of Christmas. And he sank to his knees in the snow.

What do you believe?

Boy, I read this quote and thought that we as Mothers, Nanas and Aunts...should have a plaque with this saying on it, hanging somewhere in our homes, so we could see if often!
 How important it is to teach this to your children from a very, very young age!
It will make a huge difference to have them armed with this knowledge, before the world tries to label them.




Love this photo of Kai, at Lauren's wedding this past September. He felt so good about himself that he showed us how he could dance and drink his Apple Cider at the same time. That boy has some real talent!

Miss Audrey thought that Poppa and Aunt Lauren just forgot to ask her to Dance, so she joined right in on the Father/Daughter Dance ...Aunt Lauren didn't mind at all!


 Yes, teaching our children and grandchildren at a young age...to know who they are, reminding them what their worth is, and telling them over and over again ...that there is no one in the world quite like them... is simply the best and most important knowledge for them in the world!
Good night dear friends!

Never give up on yourself

I love this article by Jason F. Wright. He always seems to make me think, lightens my day or inspires me to be better. Yes, we need more authors like him!
Hope you enjoy this... it is a great one!
Good night dear friends!
YOU CAN READ MORE OF JASON'S ARTICLES HERE:

A seventh-grade student sat at his desk fearing the absolute worst. It was Friday, June 8, 1984. It was also the last day of school before summer vacation.
His knobby knees knocked. His heart raced. His palms were so sweaty, he needed a "wet floor” sign next to his desk.
The 13-year-old had slogged through a challenging year at home and, moments earlier, his homeroom teacher had revealed in dramatic fashion that when the report cards were distributed at the end of class, one would show that someone had failed the seventh grade and would be retained.
Someone in the back of the room asked what the word meant. “In this case,” the teacher announced, “retained means he’s going to repeat the seventh grade.”
The young man sat at his desk and wondered how he would ever tell his parents that their son, a student with a history of good grades, had collapsed and would not advance to the eighth grade with his friends.
He’d qualified for the county science fair earlier that year and placed third among hundreds of entries. He’d won awards for his writing and excelled at band. He’d won speech and history contests. But now he was poised to walk up the driveway carrying a report card that weighed more than he did.
Disclosure: I have not researched this story and it hasn’t been fact-checked. So how do I know it so well? Because this is my story.
I, Jason Wright, failed the seventh grade.
I closed my eyes and with my fingertips traced the carved-in pencil slot on the bottom of the slanted desktop. In that moment, I remembered hearing the news that doctors had discovered a tumor the size of a grapefruit attached to one of my father’s kidneys. In the next moment I wondered whether my father would live to see me graduate — not from high school, but from middle.
The teacher began handing out the report cards and I felt my pulse skip and pop like an old vinyl record. I wiped my hands on my Levis and studied my desk until the report card slid into view. I unwound the red piece of string that held the flap closed and removed the tri-fold piece of canary cardstock. At the top of the paper my eyes immediately found the word written and circled in cherry red magic marker: “Retained."
I quickly folded and returned the paper to its envelope, like a body exhumed and returned to its casket. I fought tears, left for the restroom without permission and gazed at my reflection in the cracked mirror with graffiti scrawled in the corners.
I wondered, “Will my parents still love me?”
A few days after the school year ended, I returned with my mother and father to meet with the principal and discuss my options. We learned I could repeat the year, earn satisfactory grades and advance to the eighth grade. Or, I could attend two classes — math and English — at a local high school’s summer school program. If my grades were acceptable, I would begin the eighth grade as if nothing had ever happened.
The discussion was a short one — I would not be retained.
In the car on the way home, in a word picture framed by enormous love and faith, my parents explained how the summer school commitment would be a sacrifice for our entire family. No doubt it would mean a different sort of summer than I’d hoped for.
While I participated in summer school, my friends went swimming at the local pool. While I studied for math tests, the gang from church went to scout camp. While I wrote essays, my best friend spent a week at Virginia Beach.

I learned a lot from my two teachers that summer. I got better at math and learned to solve problems without the help of Texas Instruments. I got better at writing fiction and wrote a lengthy piece that was read aloud in class on our last day of summer school. I got better at balancing home stress and school responsibilities.
I got A’s.
I learned a lot at home that summer, too. I learned that my parents loved me deeply, even though I’d let school slip. I learned my three older siblings believed I was capable of anything. I learned to take more responsibility for my actions and to look inward at problems and upward to heaven for solutions.
I learned to pray.
I sailed through the next year and did well as my father lived cancer-free until my junior year of high school. When it returned and later claimed his life during the winter break between semesters, I easily remembered the lessons of 1984.
It's summer again and every year I spend some time counting and reflecting on those lessons. I suppose I also count my failures since that heavy report card, and I find there have been many. But, thankfully, I’ve also been blessed with just enough successes like summer school to remind me that I am not defined by the failure, but by the response.
Sometimes I think I hear the voice of that nervous 13-year-old boy reminding me that with faith, love, perseverance and by forgiving myself, I will always be capable of advancing from one trial to the next with straight A's.
He tells me that I am not destined to be retained.
Neither are you.

What do you think of yourself?

 My daughter sent me this you tube video about how women see themselves. It was a very eye opening experience to watch. So often we don't see ourselves ...half as pretty or wonderful as others see us. Does being that critical about ourselves hurt us...it certainly does. Knowing who you are can help that feeling of inner beauty, and also not trying to compare ourselves to others in the world. Yes, after watching this...I realized that I still have a ways to go in this area!
Watch it...you will be enlightened...to say the least!
here:
Good night dear friends!

A great example to us all!

All my life I was surrounded by people who served others. It was taught in our home by my parents, and I was taught in at church each Sunday. I know personally no matter how hard life is, if I stop thinking about myself and serve someone else...even in a small, small way....I feel better! I am grateful for the examples of so many who show me how to serve every day. Even our children and Grandchildren.
Don't believe it? Then try it yourself! When you are down, hurt, sad, or lonely...take a minute and think of anyone that could use your help, or whose life is much worse than yours ( and there always is ). When you stop and do this and then act upon that impression, immediately ...your life starts looking a bit better and you  feel better!
Service... is vital in our lives!
Thanks to all of you who have touched my life through SERVICE!
Good night dear friends!
 

 

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping." To this day, especially in times of "disaster," I remember my mother's words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world." Fred "Mister" Rogers
 

“Play is often talked about as if it were a relief from serious learning. But for children play is serious learning. Play is really the work of childhood.”

- Fred Rogers

Every girl is a Princess!

Someone sent me this sweet youtube video about every girl being a Princess, you can watch it here:
Can you imagine what you life would be like ...if we all could remember this!!!! What a different life we
 would have. I have glimpses of it often, but there are days... that I forget!
So let's all keep this link close at hand and watch it on those tough days!
Have a great one dear friends!

What Christmas can be about for kids!

Like the movie on Miracle on 34th Street.... I believe! It was perfect when Lee brought me home this wooden sign, for an early Christmas gift the other day!

It made me think of all the ways Christmas can be wonderful for our kids. I love this video that you can watch ...

HERE:
It is a great reminder on what Christmas can be like for our kids. In a world where it is GET,GET,GET...I think we can instill in them the desire to GIVE,GIVE,GIVE!  One tradition that Angie and I have done since she was old enough to understand, is to make and buy gifts to take to the homeless. There are quite a few stores that have drop off boxes, and they take and deliver them to the kids in need. It makes my heart feel good to see how excited Angie gets to make and wrap these gifts to look beautiful for the little kids that have so much less than her. I hope that Jenny will be able to start that tradition soon, and  even Kai when he gets older. I love Christmas, I love the feeling in the air! Yes, this home truly believes!
Good night dear friends!

“Christmas magic is silent. You don't hear it---you feel it, you know it, you believe it.”

― Kevin Alan Milne, The Paper Bag Christmas

To all my children

My heart has still been hurting all day! I read this quote, and thought this is exactly what I would tell all my children and grandchildren to remember! Good night dear friends!

Dare to dream!

Jeff and I watched the other night a movie called The Mighty Macs
It was based on an incredible true story of 1971-22.  Cathy Rush is a women ahead of her time and she is about to embark on an adventure of a life time. It truly was a ...Cinderella of Women's basketball.
We enjoyed it a lot and it was rated G, yes G! When is the last time you have even heard of a G rated movie for the family? Not very often. Go ahead and check it out and read more about it here:


"She dared to dream. They dared to Believe! "

Anyway check it out... I love these types of movies! Good night dear friends!

The Abundant Life

I read an article the other day about living the Abundant Life.

I thought I would share it with you,  this isn’t the complete article but I put the reference at the bottom in case you want to read it.
It was of course, talking about the goals and resolutions we make for the new year. The author offers the ABC’s for the abundant life. It is really good.
Good night dear friends!

A…is for Positive Attitude!

So much in life depends on our attitude. The way we choose to see things and respond to others makes all the difference.  To do the best we can and then to choose to be happy about our circumstances, whatever they may be, can bring peace and contentment. Charles Swindoll- author, educator, and Christian pastor—said; “Attitude, to me, is more important than the past,…than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do.  It is more important than appearance, giftedness, or skill. It will make or break a company, a church, a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day.”
We can’t direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails. For maximum happiness, peace, and contentment, may we choose a positive attitude.

B…is for Believe!

It is for believe—in yourself, in those around you, and in eternal principles. Be honest with yourself, with others, and with your Heavenly Father. Thomas Fuller, an English churchman and historian who lived in the 17th century, penned this truth; “He does not believe that does not live according to his belief.” Don’t limit yourself and don’t let others convince you that you are limited in what you can do. Believe in yourself and then live so as to reach your possibilities.  You can achieve what you believe you can. Trust and believe and have faith.

C…is for Courage!

Courage becomes a worthwhile and meaningful virtue when it is regarded not so much as a willingness to die manfully but as a determination to live decently.  Ralph Waldo Emerson said: “Whatever you do, you need courage. Whatever course you decide  on, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising that tempt you to believe that your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires some of the same courage that a soldier needs. Peace has its victories, but it takes a brave men and women to win them. “  There will be times when you will be frightened and discouraged. You may feel that you are defeated. The odds of obtaining victory may appear overwhelming.
Courage is required to make an initial thrust toward one’s coveted goal, but even greater courage is called for when one stumbles and must make a second effort to achieve. Have the determination to make the effort, the single-mindedness to work toward a worthy goal, and the courage not only to face the challenges that inevitably come but also to make a second effort, should such be required. “Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says, “I’ll try again tomorrow”.

May we remember these ABCs as we begin our journey into the new year, cultivating a positive attitude, a belief that we can achieve our goals and resolutions, and the courage to face whatever challenges may come our way. Then the abundant life will be ours.

http://www.lds.org/ensign/2012/01/living-the-abundant-life?lang=eng&query=s.+(name%3a"Thomas+S.+Monson")+(publication%3a"Ensign")

Visit from St. Nicholas

This is one of my favorite stories. Some of the words are still too big for my 4 year old granddaughter, but I think she gets the jest of it. One tradition that we started a couple of years ago. I bought these cute felt stuffed Christmas mice, they really are sweet. So the idea is to hide the mice somewhere in my decorations, and see if Angie can find the Christmas mice. She likes looking for them. I went more simple on my decorations this year but still...there is lots to see and look at.
So even if you have heard this story a million times, go ahead and read it to a child and watch it come to life all over!

By: Clement C. Moore

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

"There are three stages of a man's life: He believes in Santa Claus, he doesn't believe in Santa Claus, he is Santa Claus."  ~Unknown

  "Alas! How dreary would be the world if there was no Santa Claus! There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence."  ~Francis P. Church

Believe

I read this quote the other day and thought ...how profound!

“For those who believe, no proof is necessary.

For those who don't believe, no proof is possible.” ~ Stuart Chase

Have you ever woke up in the middle of the night wondering how you could teach or help one of your kids or loved one to believe in something? To Believe in themselves, to Believe in God, to Believe in their potential, or to Believe that things will work out?  Maybe you haven't but I certainly have as a MOM. I feel like my whole life as a mom, has been trying to teach and help my kids understand who they are and what their potential is? You hope that little by little that all those moments will sink in and give them an unbelievable strength and courage to face all the world will throw at them.

On more than one occasion, I have been asked by a younger moms this question " how do I do it all? " My answer to them is a constant reminder to myself, "You can't do it all, you just do the best you can with the Lord's help" The greatest thing you can do for yourself and your family is to stay close enough to the Spirit to be guided on what to say and do." I know that sounds simple, but it's not, especially in today's world.

I read this quote this morning by Kathleen H. Hughes... "AS WE MATURE AND GROW PHYSICALLY , WE NEED TO ENSURE THAT THE DIVINE WITHIN US IS BEING NURTURED. OUR ACTIONS SHOULD INVITE THE SPIRIT TO BE THE PREDOMINENT FORCE IN OUR LIVES."

That is what I want for each of my children, for each of my dear friends who are struggling with problems in life and for MYSELF. Too often I get burdened down with things and forget that I have the potential to change them. Too often I get so busy doing THINGS, that I forget to slow down and get back to the BASICS in my life. When I am too busy in life to say my prayers, read my scriptures, spend time with my family, to tell my friends how much they mean to me, serve others or to take care of myself....then I know that I am on the wrong path and that I have stopped GROWING. I like how Kathleen H. Hughes put it...we need to ensure the divine within us is being nurtured. I looked up the word nurture and here is what it means...

Definition:
cherish means to be fond of, be attached to, while nurture means to bring up, help develop, help grow, or provide with nourishment

So I will try to remember that I am a daughter of God, with limitless potential! I will try to remember to take time out for the things which will nurture me. I will try to remember not to have to PROVE anything to anyone, but to just live my life in a way that hopefully what I believe, will be evident in the way I live my life. And most important ...to pray that my children have all they need to believe in themselves and to live close to the Spirit. To pray that the Spirit will be the predominant force in their lives. That is all that a mother can ask, not proof that everything will work out, but faith that it can... if we make the right choices in life.

 

“The whole process of raising a family is one of perfecting our own lives. That which we transmit consciously and unconsciously to our children in their rearing in the home and in the community must be the best within us.”  ~Henry D. Moyle

Starting a little early!

When I was a little girl, I remember standing in line for a long time with my mom at the Sears and Roebuck store, to get the chance to see Santa. My mom also had a bad back and I remember her hurting as we stood there for what seemed to be forever before it was my turn. As soon as it was my turn and Santa motioned for me to come up and sit on his lap, I grabbed my mom's leg and began to cry. She did her best to convince me that it was alright but I wouldn't budge, then she reminded me how long we had been waiting for me to go see him ( guilt was her next line of defense) and still that didn't work, I was terrified. Really all I wanted was a candy cane and the neat Santa ring. I never did go up and see him but I remember my mom not being very happy (probably because she was hurting)  but some how I did get the candy cane and that cool Santa ring?

Today Jeff and I took Angie (our 3 year old granddaughter) to see Santa at the Hallmark store. I know it is early, there used to be a day that you didn't see or hear anything about Santa until after Thanksgiving, but that has been long gone. Now don't get me wrong, we love Thanksgiving and my whole house is decorated for it but, like I said before....I wish Christmas was all year long.

As we walked in the store this morning Angie saw Santa standing there and began to talk about the reindeers and presents and then as soon as he motioned for her to come to him, she went behind my leg. We did go over with her long enough to get a photo; but it is me who is beside Santa, not Angie. He showed her the Jingle Bells from the sleigh and a toy that he had, she liked him but definitely at a distance, it was cute and since it brought back those memories of me, I knew to let her keep her distance. We only went for a little bit but it was still fun as grandparents to do something like that. Yes, I do have Christmas music piping through my house and I am already watching Christmas movies but... I guess there could be worse addictions! :)

So enjoy this sweet story and don't forget to continue to BELIEVE IN THE MAGIC!

Why I know there is a Santa Claus - by Robert Fitzgerald

About 20 years ago, I was chosen to be one of Santa’s helpers in a small and rural southern town. I was only about 23 at the time and quite slim. But, with the help of some padding I filled out the costume worn by the big man quite nicely. The day of the Christmas parade arrived and I took up my perch atop the fire truck, with a basket of candy to throw to all Santa’s children lining the street. The parade circled the town and arrived back at the court house where his elves escorted him into his little hut where the towns children could come and pass on their lists of Christmas wishes and I in turn would pass them on to Santa himself in time for his Christmas Eve delivery.

On about the 3rd or 4th day before Christmas, two young ladies came in to the hut with a young man no more than 4 years old. I invited the gentleman to sit with me and proceeded to ask him what he would like to have that year. “Nothing” came his reply and it really set me back! Everybody wanted something. For two weeks I had everyone in town from 2 years old to 22 providing me with lists so long that the total logistics of UPS, the post office and The National Guard would be hard pressed to fill them, let alone one friendly old man pulled in a sleigh by a handful of reindeer!

“Are you sure”, I asked. “There must be something I could get for a fine gentleman like yourself, I pressed.

“No. I just wanted to come and thank you for my new mommy.”

I was stunned! I said you’re welcome, gave him an extra bag of candy and a coloring book and he climbed down from my lap.

He walked outside with one of the ladies and the other stayed behind to explain.

“We are just baby-sitting today. His mother was killed in a car wreck about a year and a half ago. Last Christmas he came here and asked Santa for a new mommy a few months ago his father remarried. As we drove by he saw your little house here by the road and started crying and screaming until we came back, just so he could thank you. Good-bye, Santa.”

I talked to 3 or 4 more children, then closed and locked the door from the inside and fell to my knees, thanking both God and the true Spirit of Santa for giving me this opportunity to see love in a child's eyes. I have never forgotten this experience and tell the story nearly every year. I am now 46 years old and I believe in Santa more now than ever, thanks to that boy. Son, I hope that wherever you are, you have never given up your belief in Santa. I haven’t.

 

'"Christmas, children, is not a date.  It is a state of mind."  ~Mary Ellen Chase

"Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful."  ~Norman Vincent Peale