Quilts at the funeral....

I loved this article, what a tribute to the lady who made all these quilts. By looking at them, you could tell how much she loved each person she gave them to...by all the hundreds of hours that she worked and put into them. And by having them there displayed at her funeral ...you could tell how much they loved her and cherished her incredible gift!
I love making gifts for others!
Night dear friends!

look at the quilts HERE:

Saying my goodbyes... one day at a time!

Yesterday I taught Day 9 of Christmas as Gathering Fabrics, and started my goodbyes to these sweet ladies who have become some dear friends, and so important to me. I tried to stay focused on just teaching. But every time another friend came to the class, I knew that it was important to make sure to let her and each of them know... just how much they have meant to me throughout the years! So it was a bitter/sweet type of day!
I ( along with my sweet granddaugthers and a dear friend ) made a tissue holder for each lady in my class. I hope the ones that couldn't make it yesterday, will be able to make it for at least 1 of the 3 remaining demo classes that I have left. So I can give each of them a personal thank you from me with my number and email on the back...to make sure we keep connected!

Good night dear friends!

This is my Happy place!

Good thing this is my Happy Place, I have been in this room sewing for the past 2 days straight! I am trying hard to get everything ready for Texas and for my other quilting classes. Then I have to get my machines in the shop while I am gone! I am tired already but...oh soooo excited!
Will try to post tomorrrow night! Here are a few things I have been working on!

A silky blanket for my Baby Oakley! Only 6 more days!

Tissue holder, I could make a 100 of these and still need more! There is always someone out there who is struggling or hurting. It's just something little to say " I care, I am praying for you and hang in there"

Another Casserole Carrier! I love these!

Working on scripture bags for some friends!

New bag! Love it!

The projects aren't over yet!. The way I have been non stop sewing, you would think it was December! :) It could be, I've got my Christmas Music cranked up and the fan on HIGH! :)

Good Night dear friends!

A true tribute to Mothers!

According to the National Retail Federation, you and I will drop north of $20 billion on our mothers this week. That’s a lot of flowers, jewelry and spa gift certificates.

Don’t forget the card! Grab one that sings, smells or shares a very special message written by a perfect stranger in his bathrobe in Kansas City. So tender.

Maybe we’ll make a meal, vacuum, do some dishes or get the kids out of her hair for a few hours. You might even run loads of laundry. Unless, like me, you’ve been banned from the washer since the tragic Sharpie incident of 2010. We don’t speak of it.

I get it. We love her. Who doesn’t? You might have heard that my own marvelous Mom won the handmade hot-pot holder for National Mother of the Year so often they finally discontinued the award.

It’s natural, right? We just want to lavish her with things because she’s been lavishing us with love since our first breath. Still, I’m confident 300 feet of shelf-space at Wal-Mart isn’t quite what the mother of Mother’s Day, Anna Jarvis, had in mind.

You remember Jarvis, don’t you? After her mother’s death in 1905, Jarvis wanted a day to honor the tremendous sacrifices of her mother and yours. This passion became a crusade, and, in May of 1908, the first celebration unfolded at a Methodist church in Grafton, West Virginia.

Jarvis encouraged celebrating moms by wearing a white carnation and spending extra time at her side, perhaps by sitting next to her in church. It was a personal celebration of life between children and the one who made life possible in the first place.

The day was a hit, but Jarvis wasn’t done. Her tireless efforts culminated in 1914 with the official declaration of a national Mother’s Day by President Woodrow Wilson.

It was all downhill from there.

Before you could say “overpriced greeting cards,” the holiday slipped into commercialized quicksand. Jarvis was so disappointed with retailers distorting the day, she urged Americans to quit spending money on their Mother’s Day loot. After all that effort, Jarvis spent much of her adult life campaigning to undo the day.

Remarkably, when she died in 1948, she had completely disowned the holiday. If she’d had a Twitter account, it would have been @mothersdayremorse with the hashtag #thestruggleisreal

Thanks to my wife, I feel Anna’s pain.

A few years ago, Kodi lovingly suggested that while flowers were nice on Mother’s Day, and I was welcome to do the dishes, make dinner or buy a bracelet, she’d much rather I do those things on a random Tuesday.

The subtle message was simple and I began paying more attention. Women deserve this everyday, not just on a manufactured holiday meant to lure us to the seasonal gift aisle.

There’s certainly nothing wrong with doing something extra on the second Sunday in May. I’ve been blessed with a wonderful mother, mothers-in-law, sisters and a wife with more patience than Job. Not to mention the other strong women in my life who’ve impacted my journey in eternal ways. They deserve recognition.

But what good is it to spend $20 billion on Mother’s Day and drop our dirty clothes on the floor Monday morning? (Guilty.) Do we fawn over our moms on Sunday and then spend Monday evening watching SportsCenter while she does the dishes? (Awkward pause.) Do we call her on Mother’s Day and then not again until we need something? (Guilty of that, too.)

Women deserve to be held in heavenly esteem every day of the year. We shouldn’t honor and remember them just on a day in May anymore than we would honor and remember Christ simply on a single day in December.

Cherishing and respecting our mothers is an attitude, not just a behavior. Surely it’s a lot more than a $5 greeting card with a dancing monkey.

While we’re at it, the same should be true for our children. I’m more than happy to help them wrap another set of handmade salt and pepper shakers in the shape of potbelly pigs, and I know she would genuinely appreciate the gift, but I’d prefer they honor their mother by responding the first time she asks them to get in the bath, by cleaning up their room and by quickly loading up in the car when it’s time for church.

Want to demonstrate to the women in your world their true value this Sunday? Want them to truly grasp how grateful you are for their influence in your life? Do your part. And remember, they’re divine daughters of God. So, treat them that way — no matter what the calendar says.

Read more of Jason's articles HERE:

Christmas Miracles!

Well, there is only one more sleep till Christmas, and so we are going to go spend it with our granddaughters! Oh we just can't wait till Kai gets here, but know that he is happy and excited to be with his other grandparents and great grandparents....pretty neat!
Loved this story because it reminds me that what we all remember about Christmas Pasts, is usually the love and miracles that happen in our very own families!
Hope you and your families have a wonderful Christmas!

Christmas I remember best: Christmas miracles and blessings!

 

In 1950 our church burned down. Some said Old Walt was careless, letting the wood stove get too hot. We held church in the Riverside gymnasium or in Brother Miles’ new skating rink and dance hall, until our new building was finished. Thankfully, the foundation for our new brick church was already underway.
Our family was in the midst of a personal crisis, also from fire. We were harvesting potatoes near the house when our beloved very smart brother Paul, almost 5, determined he would assist in burning the cottonwood tree stumps piled in the pasture. He got matches from the top shelf of the cupboard, then jiggled the handle of the locked farm tank until he collected gasoline into an old can. About half of it spilled onto his new Levis.
When he struck a match, his gasoline-soaked clothing exploded. Miraculously Paul was able to run to a nearby hydrant and douse the flames, although the steam made his burns worse. The fact his jeans were so new likely helped slow the flames somewhat.
Mother was off on a short errand, and no one was in the house, so with wisdom far beyond his young age, and impossible odds, he made it to the field.
My potato-picking partner and I were working nearest the house so it was our sad duty to render first aid. I saw his torn wet jeans and mildly reproved him, thinking he’d climbed through a barbed wire fence and then fallen into the irrigation ditch instead of going by the road into the field. No, he hadn’t fallen in the ditch, he said in a sad little voice, so unlike his usual boisterous manner, and no, he hadn’t crawled through the fence. He just kept repeating, “I hurt me. I hurt me.” I was 15, and didn’t realize how badly he was hurt, as the poor frantic child in a semi-state of shock danced in pain.
We had no choice but to quit work — a real no-no at harvest time when every minute counted, not only for farmers but also for us with what we could earn.
When I finally realized his new jeans were burned, not torn, I chided him for getting matches, and sternly told him he must never do that again, as I began searching for burn ointment. Thankfully, Mother returned from her errand and knew immediately just how seriously he was hurt. It was a long six miles into Blackfoot, Idaho, to the doctor. We picked no more potatoes that day.
The next weeks were a blur and daily reports from the hospital weren’t good. Mother went alone to Idaho Falls for his first skin graft surgery on Thanksgiving Day. We questioned the holiday timing but appreciated the doctor’s willingness to take the first available opening at the larger hospital. We could only hope the skin graft would be successful.
As Christmas approached, Mother quietly suggested Christmas might be sparse, but since we weren’t used to lavish gifts that didn’t seem so unusual. We’d already pooled our meager harvest earnings for our individual family gifts. It was Mother’s next words I would remember.
“With your sister at BYU plus hospital and doctor expenses, money is tight. You ought to know what kind of man your father is. The bishop brought a sizable check to be ‘used as needed.’ Your dad kept it a few days and then gave it back, telling the bishop to use it for someone in need. It would have meant a better Christmas, but I agree with his choice.”
I’d seen that check for $100 in the cupboard where money was kept from items sold such as a calf or hay, until deposited. It was the bishop’s personal check, not a church check. It felt good to know he understood our difficult times, but felt better knowing we could make it on our own.
I have only one other memory of that Christmas. The doctor was jubilant when one tiny patch of pink new skin formed just below Paul’s knee. Once a small area began to grow, new skin would spread like tiny islands that would eventually connect. It would still be weeks before this energetic little boy would walk, and there would be lifetime scars. Yet we could not know one day he’d place in the top four runners in an Idaho state track meet, but the beginning of healing was our Christmas miracle.
Oh yes, and Old Walt sat in the back row each week in a suit when our new church was done, since he had no chores on Sundays. We learned there are many kinds of miracles.
Found story HERE:

 

The Greatest Gift

My dear sister in law sent this sweet story to me, it won first place in the Women's Day Christmas contest in the 1980's. I spoke in church today and so this is what I began my talk with.

       It was but a few short days until Christmas in 1966.  Two young
elders of the Mormon church walked the streets of Laredo, Texas,
knocking on doors in search of someone who would listen to their
gospel message.  No one, it seemed, in the entire city had time to
hear the teachings of the Savior, so intent were they that the
celebration of His birth should suit their own purposes.

        Filled with discouragement, the two young men turned their
backs to the approaching twilight and began the long walk home.
 Retracing their steps of the afternoon, they came upon a low, wind-
swept riverbank.  Jutting from its brow stood the barest means of a
shelter, constructed of weathered wooden slats and large pieces of
cardboard.  Strangely, they felt moved to go to the door and knock.

        A small, olive-skinned child with tangled black hair and large
dark eyes answered.  Her mother appeared behind her, a short, thin
woman with a tired but warm smile.  In her rich Spanish alto, she
invited the young men to come in and rest awhile.  They were made
welcome and seated on the clean-swept floor.  The little one-room
shanty seemed to be filled with shy, smiling, dark-eyed children.
The mother proudly introduced each of them--eight in all--and each
in turn quickly bobbed his or her head.

        The young men were deeply moved at the extreme poverty they
saw.  No one in the family had shoes, and their clothes were ill-fitting
and in condition beyond mending.  The walls of the little home showed
daylight between the wooden slats, and eight little rolls of bedding
were pressed tightly into the cracks to help keep out the draft until
they were needed for sleeping.  A small round fire pit dug in one corner
marked the kitchen.  An odd assortment of chipped dishes and pots
were stacked beside an old ice chest, and a curtained-off section with
a cracked porcelain tub served as the bathing area.  Except for these
the room was barren.

        The mother told how her husband had gone north to find employ-
ment.   He had written that he had found a job of manual labor
and that it took most of his small wage to pay his board and room.
But, she told the young men, he had managed to save fifty cents to
send them for Christmas, with which she had purchased two boxes
of fruit gelatin.  It was one of the children's favorites and would make
a special treat on Christmas day.

        The next morning, as soon as the local shops opened, the young
men hurried to the dime store and purchased as many crayons, cars,
trucks and little inexpensive toys as they could afford.  Each was
carefully wrapped in brightly colored paper and all were put in a large
grocery bag.  That evening the two young men took their gifts to the
shanty on the riverbank.  When they knocked, the mother swung the
door open wide and invited them in.  They stepped inside and in halting
Spanish explained to the children that they had seen Santa and he had
been in such a hurry, he'd asked if they would deliver his gifts to the
children for him.

        With cries of delight the children scrambled for the bag, spilling
its contents upon the floor and quickly dividing the treasured
packages. Silently the mother's eyes filled with tears of gratitude.
She stepped forward to clasp tightly one of each of the young men's
hands in hers. For long moments she was unable to speak.  Then,
with tears still welling from her eyes, she smiled and said, "no one
ever has been so kind.  You have given us a special gift, the kind of
love that lights Christmas in the heart.  May we also give you a
special gift?"  From the corner of the room she drew out the two
small boxes of fruit gelatin and handed them to the young men.  Then
all eyes were moist.  All knew the true meaning of giving, and none
would ever forget that at Christmas, the greatest gift of all was given.
                                            by Sandra Bateman, American Fork, Utah

The missionaries offered this dear lady the most priceless gift...

Emily Freeman explains it best like this...
"There is a moment of epiphany after the soul had doubted all it knows, when it begins to reach out for solid answers and firm ground. This moment is defined by one emotion that sustains and creates a desire for change. Before faith or knowledge is found, before joy or happiness is experienced, before the healing begins, one emotion starts to stir from deep within the depths of despair.
It is HOPE!

It was hope that the missionaries shared on that visit to this Mother of eight, hope that life could get better, that people still care and that God had not forgotten her and her family.
Now with this HOPE she stands a far greater chance of being open to hear the message of Peace that these two young missionaries had to offer.

Gerald Lund said...
"As long as we have hope,
we have direction,
the energy to move,
and the map to move by.
We have a hundred alternatives,
a thousand paths and infinity of dreams."

This is the Season of Hope for all of us.

It is a time to become better acquainted with our Savior Jesus Christ.

In 2 Nephi 25:26 we read "we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ...that our children may know to what source they may look"

Now, just 3 days before Christmas ...can we truly say that we talk about Christ, do we rejoice in Christ and do we preach and teach about Christ, to our families?

What type of LEGACY of truth are we leaving for our family?

Do we trust that the Savior will guide our lives the right way?

Brother Jeffrey R. Holland said it best when he said of the Savior " He knows the way, because He is the way!

I love the Christmas Song MARY, DID YOU KNOW? written in 1984 by lyrics by Mark Lowry and Buddy Greene

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 have kissed the face of God?
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?

I am not sure if Mary truly understood all that would be required of her and of her Son,  but I do think she was ready to accept whatever Heavenly Father asked.  In Luke 1 : 38 she replied to the Angel ..."Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it unto me according to thy word."

Will our posterity say that we were full of HOPE, that we were faithful and ready to follow the Savior?

I believe that what these two missionaries saw and experienced on their mission that Christmas night, will never be forgotten. It will be part of their Legacy.

. Christ referred to the Gospel as... The Good News

How blessed we are this Christmas Season to have this Good news in our lives. May we be more willing to share it with those around us this Christmas season and always, so that they can have what the Savior explained in John 10 :10.. ..."I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly"

Christmas Jar 2013

Today was a fun day because our son Lee got to fly to Texas and visit with Brad, Krystal and Kai. How grateful I am that my kids love their brother and sisters soooo much! That's what I always dreamed of for my family when I grew up. No matter what, they are always there for each other and that is exactly the way it should be.
Also John, Amy and girls came to church with us today and so that is always a neat experience to have some family there. Tonight we went to Bellevue to a Festival of the Nativity, it was amazing.... it told all about it here  www.bellevuenativity.com, some friends went with us, and I just kept saying I had no idea how much there was there for everyone of every age. It was neat to see Nativities that were from countries all over the world, to hear the Christmas choirs, and to once again be reminded of the life of the Savior and the true purpose for the season.
Speaking of trying to be more Christlike this holiday season, reminds me to share with you what the girls and I did yesterday when they were on their Sleep Over.
A few years ago I read the book CHRISTMAS JARS by Jason F. Wright, what a wonderful Christmas story and now it has become our family tradition each year. We get a mason jar and collect our change all year long. Then at Christmas time, we count out the money and decide who we think could use our Christmas Jar of money or what gifts we could buy with it. Angie and I have been doing this tradition for a couple of years and she remembers a couple of them, I think this is the first year that Jenny really understood enough and was excited for it.
So we got the jar down.






Then Poppa ( Jeff  ) helped the girls divide up the money and make money charts and helped each one count their pile of money. It was cute to see how excited they got!

 Then came the fun part of buying and wrapping the gifts. They asked that they not be completely wrapped, so they would know which kids they would need to give them too. So we added cute ribbons and tags with the size and age of the child it would fit. The girls decided that they would get things that they themselves would love. So since there are 3 girls in their family, they got gifts for 3 little girls their ages. We found warm blankets, matching Christmas pajamas, a toy and of course their favorite...a stuffed animal. I was so proud of them not asking to keep anything for themselves, but being excited for kids that wouldn't have much... if anything for Christmas.
After everything was wrapped and ready to go, we took them to a local store that was doing a Toy Drive and they got to put all the packages under a tree that they had there. The girls kept talking about all the other presents were under the tree, and how good those kids were going to feel on Christmas morning.
I know it is a little thing, but I hope to continue this tradition and soon add Kai and Audrey in on the fun. I love the sweet hearts that little kids have, and I pray that they will remember this tradition their whole life, and especially how it made them feel! Doing what Christ would do if He were here, that is truly what the Christmas spirit is all about!
Good night dear friends!

 

Motherhood

Every where you go and all around you are sales that are going for Mother's Day. Everyone wants to get the perfect gift for their Mom. I now think differently of what I would like for Mother's Day, than I did when I was a young Mom.

 This is the list I used to want...
- everyone to do their chores with out complaint
-everyone share with each other
-not to fight or back talk for the whole day
-homemade breakfast in bed
-no tattling all day
-make your bed

Now my list would be...
- stay close to the Lord
-make a difference for good in the world
-keep in touch with Dad and I
-strive to stay close and available for each of your family members
-do what it takes to be happy
-remember who you are and live it!

That's a little different now! Now I just am grateful for my family and pray that they are happy and healthy, that is a huge blessing that many Mothers don't even have. So I don't need presents this year for Mother's Day, I am just grateful to be Mom. Good night dear friends!

“It is not until you become a mother that your judgment slowly turns to compassion and understanding.” Erma Bombeck 

Free Gifts!!!

   Why is it that every one stops, looks or listens... when they see, or hear the word FREE?
   My grandmother always told me " That nothing is really free in life, there is always a catch". I think she was talking about the adds you see on TV, or the pop up congratulations on the computer, telling you what you won. So, although it is true that you have to be very cautious when things are said to be free, we need to remember never push the button, say yes or sign anything, until you have read all the fine print and even between the lines.
   But it is refreshing to remember these 8 gifts are really, truly FREE...check it out for yourself! :)

 

EIGHT GIFTS THAT DO NOT COST A CENT!

1. THE GIFT OF LISTENING...
   But you must REALLY listen. No interrupting, no daydreaming, no planning your response. Just listening.
   
2. THE GIFT OF AFFECTION...
   Be generous with appropriate hugs, kisses, pats on the back and holds. Let these small actions demonstrate the love you have for family and friends.
   
3. THE GIFT OF LAUGHTER...
   Clip cartoons. Share articles and funny stories. Your gift will say, "I love to laugh with you."
   
4. THE GIFT OF A WRITTEN NOTE...
   It can be a simple "Thanks for the help" note or a full sonnet. A brief, handwritten note may be remembered for a lifetime, and may even change a life.
   
5. THE GIFT OF A COMPLIMENT...
   A simple and sincere, "You look great in red," "You did a super job" or "That was a wonderful meal" can make someone's day.
   
6. THE GIFT OF A FAVOR...
   Every day, go out of your way to do something kind
   
7. THE GIFT OF SOLITUDE...
   There are times when we want nothing better than to be left alone. Be sensitive to those times and give the gift of solitude to others.
   
8. THE GIFT OF A CHEERFUL DISPOSITION...
   The easiest way to feel good is to extend a kind word to someone, really it's not that hard to say, Hello or Thank You. ~ Unknown

 

"The greatest gift is a portion of thyself."  ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Life is the first gift, love is the second, and understanding the third."   ~ Marge Piercy

"Remember, the greatest gift is not found in a store nor under a tree, but in the hearts of true friends."

Do we notice the thorns or the rose first?

This was a beautiful story. How easy it is to see or talk about the thorns that others have, instead of all their beautiful qualities. What a great reminder, to look paste the thorns, and see the real beauty within! Enjoy!

The Rose With Thorns

A certain man planted a rose and watered it faithfully and before it blossomed, he examined it. He saw the bud that would soon blossom, but noticed thorns upon the stem and he thought, "How can any beautiful flower come from a plant burdened with so many sharp thorns?"

Saddened by this thought, he neglected to water the rose, and before it was ready to bloom, it died.

So it is with many people. Within every soul there is a rose. The God like qualities planted in us at birth growing amid the thorns of our faults. Many of us look at ourselves and see only the thorns, the defects. We despair, thinking that nothing good can possibly come from us. We neglect to water the good within us, and eventually it dies. We never realize our potential.

Some people do not see the rose within themselves; someone else must show it to them. One of the greatest gifts a person can possess is to be able to reach past the thorns and find the rose within others.

This is the characteristic of love--to look at a person and know their true faults. Accepting that person into your life, while recognizing the nobility in their soul. Help them to realize that they can overcome their faults. If we show them the rose, they will conquer their thorns. Only then will they blossom many times over.

Our duty in this world is to help others by showing them their roses and not their thorns. Only then can we achieve the love we should feel for each other; only then can we bloom in our own garden.
- Unknown

"Won't you come into the garden?  I would like my roses to see you."  ~Richard Brinsley Sheridan

 

"Helping others' confidence is the greatest gift anyone can give... a sincere,
well deserved compliment has greater purchasing power than money."
- Rev Dale Turner

The Christmas Spirit

The story that I chose for today is... one of the stories from my new Chicken Soup for the Soul Tales & Christmas book, I received for Christmas from one of my dear friends. The story is too long to type, but I will give you the jest of the story and some of the parts that meant a lot to me.
   It was called the LESSONS FROM MY GRANDPARENTS by Beth Cato. The story started out with a mother reminding her daughter while she was home for Christmas, to please go through some of the boxes that her grandmother had set aside for her. Her grandmother was now in a nursing home, but wanted to make sure that some of her favorite things, went to her favorite people. She was surprised to see what her grandmother had passed on to her...her Christmas Santa collection.  Here is what she said about her Grandmother and Christmas. 
   "Her enthusiasm for Christmas rivaled that of any bouncy child. She grabbed Christmas gifts on sale all year long." She encouraged me to start playing traditional carols in June or July.  "Good music is good music all  year long," she said. There's no need to limit to December."
   When I was on summer break, she helped me to start making crafts to give as gifts to my uncles and cousins. More than once, she surprised me with bags of Styrofoam circles and sparkly pom poms. When my grandpa was sick and bedbound, we would sit in nearby chairs and work on little projects while Burl Ives crooned over the sound of the fans and air conditioning.
   Knowing her joy for Christmas, I always bought her Santa figurines. Despite my small allowance, I believed I was giving her something grand. As an adult, I realized the truth.
   "Some of these are outright hideous," I muttered, already sorting through them to make a donate-to-charity pile. "Why did she keep them?" I help up one porcelain Santa Claus with runny mascara and almost nonexistent legs.
   "Because you gave them to her," Mom said.
   My grandma has been widowed almost twenty years now. She needs a walker to get around. Her eyesight is too poor, her hands too shaky to do crafts. But she loves her holiday music and the sight of Santa Claus still makes her squeal. Looking back, I realized how much she and Grandpa taught me about the true spirit of the season.
Now she had gifted me with all of her beloved old Santa Clauses as she prepared for her own death. With my returns home so infrequent, I never knew if I would see her again. Every hug and kiss was precious. She knew I loved her, but beyond that, did she realize how she embodied Christmas for me?

   The story then ends with a letter to her Grandmother, thanking her for all the things that she has taught her and how she hopes to pass all those things on to her children some day. Here is the last sentence of her letter...
   "I'm proud to be your granddaughter. For me,  you'll always be the spirit of Christmas.
Love,
Beth  
 

" A grandparent is a little bit parent, a little bit teacher, and a little bit best friend."   ~ Unknown

"It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air."   ~ W. T. Ellis

"From Home to home, and heart to heart, from one place to another. The warmth and joy of Christmas, brings us closer to each other."      ~Emily Matthews

Teach the Children

Well, I believe that we got everything done tonight like we had plan. Dinner at 5:00 with everyone ( except our Brad and Krystal, who are in Idaho), then Amy played the piano and we practiced some Christmas songs. Then Angie and I went outside and sprinkled Magic Reindeer food on the lawn ( that our dear neighbor gave to us ). Next we put milk and cookies out on our special Christmas plate for Santa, and put it by the fireplace ( and of course some carrots for the Rudolph and the other reindeers ). Then the girls got on their Christmas pajamas. Next, I read the Night before Christmas. Then we got the Fischer Price Nativity down ( see photo below, every Grandmother and Nana, needs one of these! ), and the girls and I put all the pieces out on the table as Jeff ( Poppa ) read the Christmas story out of the book of Luke. That went pretty well, with only a couple of arguments over certain pieces of the nativity. After that, we bundled up and went to a home to do some Christmas caroling, it was fun and I believe the family that we visited enjoyed it ( or at least I hope they did ). Then back to our cars for some  driving around to see Christmas lights, and then the girls were home before bed time at 8:00 p.m. ( Mission accomplished ). It was a neat experience and we were certainly grateful for it.
Well, I am not sure anyone will actually read my blog tonight, being that it is Christmas Eve, put I still wanted to share this neat story with you. I hope you enjoy and that you have a wonderful Christmas! 
Oh no, it is late and I need to head to bed, I think I just heard the jingle bells from Santa's sleigh...gotta go!

True Meaning of Christmas
-Author Unknown
Just a week before Christmas I had a visitor. This is how it happened. I had just finished the household chores for the night and was preparing to go to bed, when I heard a noise in the front of the house. I opened the door to the front room, and to my surprise, Santa himself stepped out from behind the Christmas tree. He placed his finger over his mouth so I would not cry out.

"What are you doing?" I started to ask.
The words choked up in my throat, and I saw that he had tears in his eyes. His usual jolly manner was gone. Gone was the eager, boisterous soul we all know. He then answered me with a simple statement: "TEACH THE CHILDREN!"
I was puzzled, what did he mean?
He anticipated my question, and with one quick movement brought forth a miniature toy bag from behind the tree. As I stood bewildered, Santa said, "Teach the children. Teach them the real meaning of Christmas. The meaning of Christmas that nowadays has been forgotten."

Santa then reached in his bag and pulled out a FIR TREE and placed it before the mantle. Teach the children that the pure green color of the stately fir tree remains green all year round, depicting the everlasting hope of mankind. All the needles point Heavenward, making it a symbol of man's thoughts turning toward Heaven.

He again reached into his bag and pulled out a brilliant STAR. Teach the children that the star was the Heavenly sign of promises long ago. God promised a Savior for the world, and the star was the sign of the fulfillment of His promise.

He then reached into his bag and pulled out a CANDLE. Teach the children that the candle symbolizes that Christ is the light of the world, and when we see this great light, we are reminded of He who displaces the darkness.

Once again he reached into his bag and removed a WREATH and placed it on the tree. Teach the children that the wreath symbolizes the real nature of love Christ showed for us. Real love never ceases. Love is one continuous round of affection.

He then pulled from his bag an ornament of HIMSELF. Teach the children that I, Santa Claus, symbolize the generosity and good will we feel during the month of December.

He then brought out a HOLLY LEAF. Teach the children that the holly plant represents immortality. It represents the crown of thorns worn by our Savior. The red holly berries represent the blood that He shed for us.

Next he pulled from his bag a GIFT and said, "Teach the children that God so loved the world that whoever believes in Him shall have everlasting life." (John 3:16) Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift. Teach the children that the wise men bowed before the Holy Babe and presented Him with gold, frankincense and myrrh. We should always give gifts in the same spirit of the wise men.

Santa then reached in his bag and pulled out a CANDY CANE and hung it on the tree. Teach the children that the candy cane represents the shepherd's crook. The crook on the staff helps to bring strayed sheep back to the flock. The candy cane is the symbol that we are our brother's keeper.

He reached in again and pulled out an ANGEL. Teach the children that it was the angels that heralded the glorious news of the Savior's birth. The angels sang "Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men of good will."

Suddenly I heard a soft tinkling sound, and from his bag he pulled out a BELL. Teach the children that as the lost sheep are found by the sound of the bell, it should bring mankind to the fold. The bell symbolizes guidance and return.
Santa looked around and was pleased. He looked back at me and I saw that the twinkle was back in his eyes. He said, "Remember, TEACH THE CHILDREN the true meaning of Christmas and do not put me in the center for I am but a humble servant of the One that is, and I bow down to worship Him, Our Lord, Our God, and Savior.

 

Kris Kringle: "Oh, but there is. I'm not just a whimsical figure who wears a charming suit and affects a jolly demeanor. You know, I... I... I'm a symbol. I'm a symbol of the human ability to be able to suppress the selfish and hateful tendencies that rule the major part of our lives. If... you can't believe, if you can't accept anything on faith, then you're doomed for a life dominated by doubt."

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!

Well, today was a full day of sewing, sewing and sewing! I know exactly how those elves feel at the North Pole! :) I only have the gifts for the girls ( granddaughters ) to go, of course I am creating them first. Not sure why I can't just follow a pattern, but I find it much more challenging, to create something new ...that no one else has ever made! I made a couple of owl purses, some nesting puppies and monsters, plus a baby and blankets and dolls with blankets...not very big, and definitely not expensive... but made with LOTS of love. I will try and get some photos of them up soon.

After dinner we all went to downtown Bellevue, and stood outside to watch SNOWFLAKE LANE. It starts exactly at 7:00 p.m. each evening, and there were a ton of people there. I mean bodies were just smashed all together, everyone trying to see over each other's head. I like people... but that was almost too much for me :). Angie and Jenny, got to sit on Dad and Poppa's shoulders, so they had the best seats in town. First the toy soldiers come walking down the street, playing their drums and dancing. Then the snow starts, or is suppose too. The snow was so lite this year that you had to look hard to find it ( that was disappointing ). Then there were Sugar Plum fairies, Rudolph, and even a Christmas Mouse walking around and talking to all the children.
It was just fun, having everyone together, and doing something Christmasy.

So here is my story for the night!
One of my Christmas books that I love is this one...

Here is a brief summary... In the Mitford Snowmen, everyone's favorite characters are filled with holiday spirit. And when a swirling snowfall brings them to Main Street for a snowman building contest, the spirit of competition comes alive as well. Will Father Tim and Uncle Billy's creation win the prize in Mitford's First Annual Snowman Jubilee? Will Percy and J.C. steal the show? And what's that wondrous smell of chocolate in the air? So, come . And let the little town with the big heart bring Christmas joy in this special holiday story.

A few years ago, Hallmark was selling ornaments and gifts that were designed after this book, each year I place my snowman ornament on the tree, I think of this neat little story. Hope you too enjoy it!

"This, the spirit of Christmas, that forever and ever endures. May it leave its richest blessing in the hearts of you and yours."   ~ Unknown

"The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree is the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other. "  ~ Burton Hillis

Little Drummer Boy

I read this neat this neat story from one of the Chicken Soup for the soul book,I began typing it and then right near the last couple of paragraphs, I pushed the wrong button... and it disappeared. Even my kids tried to help me get it back but...it didn't work. So, I am going to share with you another one of my favorite stories Little Drummer Boy. I think this story has been rewritten a  few times, but the jest of it is the same. The little drummer boy shared the talents he had with the little baby Jesus. Reminding us that we just need to give from our heart, to have the most perfect gifts for those around us.

 

Little Drummer Boy
David's mother cooked the food in the kitchen of the inn he grew up in. His father was the innkeeper. His mother cooked the food. David's older sisters cleaned the rooms, and his older brother swept the stable. David loved to sing. He would sing to his mother as she cooked the food. David made up songs and banged on pots and bowls as he sang to her. David's mother smiled at him. "Someday you will sing in the temple, my son," his mother said. David grinned at his mother. "Tem-ple," David said very carefully.
David's father came into the kitchen. "How is my big boy?" David's father asked as he swung David onto his shoulders. "Pum Pum Pum! Tem-ple come!" David sang as he drummed on his father's head with a wooden spoon. David's father smiled as his son kept on drumming. "We must find this boy a drum or my poor head will not survive!" said David's father, with a laugh.
A few years later David got a small drum for his birthday. Soon he was beating rhythms on his drum wherever he went. Pat-a-rum, pat-a-rum, pat-a-rum, David drummed to copy the donkeys on the road. Swish-click-click-tum, swish-click-click-tum, went David's drumming to copy his brother sweeping straw in the stable.
One day David's father said to his family, "We are going to be very busy. Caesar Augustus has ordered a count of all the families in all the towns." "Pum Pum. Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum. I counted six of us!" David sang. "Why does this make us busy?" "Because people will come to Bethlehem to be counted with their families," said David's father. "They will need a place to stay. They will stay with us, and we will be very busy."

David loved to beat his drum to the sound of donkeys strolling along the road.

David's mother cooked more food. David's sisters cleaned the rooms. David's brother swept out the stable and put new hay and pots of water in the stalls. David's father greeted the people as they came into town. Soon the inn was very full. David played his drum and sang his songs for the people.
Late one night there was a knock at the door. David peeked around his father at the young man and his wife, who was on a donkey. They had no room for these people! What could they do? David's father was a kind man. "You can stay in the stable," he said. "It is warm and dry there. I can send food out to you." The young man thanked David's father and walked the donkey to the stable.
David helped his mother carry bread and cheese out to the young couple. His mother told him the woman was going to have a baby soon. The next day there was a lot of excitement. "The young woman who stayed in the stable last night had her baby," David's mother told him. "The baby is the King of Kings, they say!" said David's father.

David gave the gift of song to Baby Jesus.

David could not see the baby because of the crowd around the stable. David stood at the back of the crowd and began to make up a song for the baby: "Come, they told me, our newborn king to see. Our finest gifts we bring to lay before the king. So to honor him when we come."

The crowd began to part when they heard David's beautiful singing: "Baby Jesus, I am a poor boy, too. I have no gift to bring that's fit to give a king. Shall I play for you on my drum?"

David stepped closer to Mary, Joseph, and their son. Baby Jesus smiled at David, reached out, and patted his drum. http://tlc.howstuffworks.com/family/inspirational-christmas-stories13.htm

 

"The only gift is a portion of thyself."  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

"What we are is God's gift to us.  What we become is our gift to God."  ~Eleanor Powell