Happy Thanksgiving!

Oh how I love this photo...maybe it is because of the cute patient face of the little boy or grandson! He looks like he can't wait for Grandma, Aunt or some dear to him, to finish this perfect pie and get it in the oven soon! :)

Here is another cute face, that is excited for her and Nana's pie to get finished. She liked the mixing the best. She would stir then eat some of it, and then stir again! Hope she doesn't have any germs...or at least that the heat of the oven kills the germs ( if there is any ).

My favorite part is to watch her smell the spices and then have her say "Umm...it smells like Christmas!"
My heart is missing my other kids and grandkids. Would love to have them here cooking and sharing with us!

Yet, I realize how blessed I am...there are many, many people out there are lonely or suffeing. Maybe their loved ones have passed away, or live too far away. Or they have suffered a divorice and or illness.
I rememeber well 7 years ago after my mastectomy, it was Thanksgiving. Lee and Lauren were home but we weren't making a Thankgiving Dinner because I was hurting so much from my surgery. Our dear friends brought us dinner from a company. It was so sweet of them to think of us and yet, I was so sad still from my surgery and the fact that everything had changed...and all. I could do was cry when they left! I still was so worried about the future... or if there was going to be a future!
So my heart goes out to all those who may be hurt, lonely, sick or sad this Thanksgiving holiday!



May we all take a moment to stop and say a prayer for all those who's hearts are hurting!
Good Night and Happy Thanksgiving dear friends!

My world has been changed forever!

I have to say that yesterday was a very different Mother's Day. We were by ourselves, we got to see Amy and her family the night before, for Angie's Birthday and so Sunday was very quiet. I read the emails and the texts from my kids and that made me cry...happy tears of course, because I just feel so blessed to be their Mom. Still I was lonely and wishing I could just jump on a plane and go give little Kai a hug and visit with them. But we got to Skype and that helped a ton. Kai even started walking on Mother's Day, and we got to see that too! Thank goodness for the computer! We also were able to Skype with Lee and Lauren also, I didn't feel quite as lonely after that.

Mother's Days are always a bit of emotion for all different reasons for each person. And even for the same person they can be different at different seasons in your life. My Mom has been gone for over 11 years now and still on Mother's Day...I can remember how excited I would get on Mother's Day to give her my homemade gifts (that we made in school ) and to go up front and sing to her in church! I still miss her terribly bad on Mother's Day! I also can remember when the kids were little, I just prayed that I would survive Mother's Day without getting upset or frustrated with them. Then as always they would stand up in front of church and sing their little Mother's Day songs, and my heart would melt. Some Mother's Days I felt a bit of guilt, for not having the relationship that I thought I should have for one or more of my kids at the time. Sometimes I felt guilt because I didn't think I measured up as a Mom ( compared to Other Perfect Mothers out there ), which I finally realized...don't really exist! Wish I would have know that one sooner! :)

But when I read this letter... I thought that certainly was how I felt most of my time as their Mother.

Motherhood is one of the hardest jobs I have ever had, and yet the greatest one I have ever had! I wouldn't trade it for the WORLD!

Feeling our hearts with joy this Christmas!

We have been feeling a little sad this Christmas because Brad and Krystal can’t come to share it with us. Our cousins are far away and well, just because of life…some of our regular traditions are going to have to change some.  We were feeling a bit lonely, especially after the times when our house has been so full and busy on other Christmases. So tonight we received a big blessing. We had a dear friend of ours, who needed a place to stay for the holidays and so…without any notice, we are going to have one more for this wonderful season. I feel we have been blessed, even though we are helping her out. She in turn is helping us out, because we stopped thinking about ourselves and starting thinking of all the things we can do with and for her. All of my kids immediately just started putting things into action, I didn’t have to tell them anything, there was just a need and they automatically began to fill it! How proud I was tonight when my family made this sweet girl feel like…she was a part of our family and was always suppose to spend Christmas with us. It is true, the best way to stop feeling sorry for yourself is to serve someone else! So I have to go because we have lots of preparations to make for Christmas!

We are so grateful for this season of the year. We are thankful for the gift of Jesus Christ in our lives. We truly have relied on His peace and strength many times this past year, how grateful we are for His example to us. We never have to wonder what we need to do, He showed us the way.
Yes, this is the most wonderful time of the year!

Well, there is just one more sleep till Christmas, so good night dear friends!

 

Christmas… that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave a spell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance -- a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved.  ~ Augusta E. Rundel

“Christmas Eve was a night of song that wrapped itself about you like a shawl. But it warmed more than your body. It warmed your heart…filled it, too, with melody that would last forever.”   ~ Bess Streeter Aldrich

“The greatest gift is a portion of thyself.”  ~ Emerson

I love this story!

Of course you have heard me say that that a million times before but…I love this story also! I actually love anything to do with Christmas don’t I?

Hope you enjoy it! Merry Christmas dear friends and good night!

 

Christmas Star

This was my grandmother's first Christmas without grandfather, and we had promised him before he passed away that we would make this her best Christmas ever. When my mom, dad, three sisters and I arrived at her little house in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, we found she had waited up all night for us to arrive from Texas. After we exchanged hugs, my sisters and I ran into the house. It did seem a little empty without grandfather, and we knew it was up to us to make this Christmas special for her.

Grandfather had always said that the Christmas tree was the most important decoration of all. So we immediately set to work on the beautiful artificial tree that was kept stored in grandfather's closet. Although artificial, it was the most genuine looking Douglas fir I had ever seen. Tucked away in the closet with the tree was a spectacular array of ornaments, many of which had been my father's when he was a little boy. As we unwrapped each one, grandmother had a story to go along with it. My mother strung the tree with bright white lights and a red button garland; my sisters and I carefully placed the ornaments on the tree; and finally father was given the honor of lighting the tree.

We stepped back to admire our handiwork. To us, it looked magnificent, as beautiful as the tree in Rockefeller Center. But something was missing.

"Where's your star'" I asked.

The star was my grandmother's favorite part of the tree, for it represented the star of Bethlehem that had led the wise men to the infant Jesus.

"Why, it must be here somewhere," she said, starting to sort through the boxes again. "Your grandfather always packed everything so carefully when he took the tree down."

As we emptied box after box and found no star, my grandmother's eyes filled with tears. This was no ordinary ornament, but an elaborate golden star covered with colored jewels and blue lights that blinked on and off. Moreover, grandfather had given it to grandmother some fifty years ago on their first Christmas together. Now, on her first Christmas without him, the star was gone, too.

"Don't worry, Grandmother," I reassured her. "We'll find it for you."

My sisters and I formed a search party.

"Let's start in on the closet where the ornaments were," Donna said. "Maybe the box just fell down."

That sounded logical, so we climbed on a chair and began to search that tall closet of grandfather's. We found father's old yearbooks and photographs of relatives, Christmas cards from years gone by and party dresses and jewelry boxes, but no star.

We searched under beds and over shelves, inside and outside, until we had exhausted every possibility. We could see grandmother was disappointed, although she tried not to show it.

"We could buy a new star," Kristi offered.

"I'll make you one from construction paper," Karen chimed in.

"No," Grandmother said. "This year, we won't have a star."

By now, it was dark outside, and time for bed, since Santa would soon be here. As we lay in bed, we could hear the sound of snowflakes falling quietly outside.

The next morning, my sisters and I woke up early, as was our habit on Christmas day - first, to see what Santa had left under the tree, and second, to look for the Christmas star in the sky. After a traditional breakfast of apple pancakes, the family sat down together to open presents. Santa had brought me the Easy Bake Oven I wanted, and Donna a Chatty Cathy doll. Karen was thrilled to get the doll buggy she had asked for, and Kristi to get the china tea set. Father was in charge of passing out the presents, so that everyone would have something to open at the same time.

"The last gift is to Grandmother from Grandfather," he said, in a puzzled voice.

"From who'" There was surprise in my grandmother's voice.

"I found that gift in grandfather's closet when we got the tree down," Mother explained. "It was already wrapped so I put it under the tree. I thought it was one of yours."

"Hurry and open it," Karen urged excitedly.

My grandmother shakily opened the box. Her face lit up with joy when she unfolded the tissue paper and pulled out a glorious golden star. There was a note attached. Her voice trembled as she read it aloud:

"Don't be angry with me, dear. I broke your star while
putting up the decorations, and I couldn't bear to tell
you. Thought it was time for a new one. I hope it brings
you as much joy as the first one. Merry Christmas. Love,
Bryant."

So grandmother's tree had a star after all, a star that expressed their everlasting love for one another. It brought my grandfather home for Christmas in each of our hearts and made it our best Christmas ever.

 

“Christmas is the day that holds all time together.”  ~Alexander Smith

“May the spirit of Christmas bring you peace,
The gladness of Christmas give you hope,
The warmth of Christmas grant you love.”
~Author Unknown

My red headed Gingerbreads!

I think it is much easier to work hard on something, when you do it for someone you love. That is probably why I have such a fun time making matching seasonal outfits for the girls. I just finished their Gingerbread outfits ( look below), they really like the skirts they can twirl in. And even though they compete in almost everything, they still like having the matching outfits ( go figure ).

Tonight I am sitting here at home alone. Jeff is gone, Lee is out on a date, Lauren is at work and I have Kenny G Christmas music playing in the background…now doesn’t that just sound like a perfect setting to feel lonely in? I am missing my boy Bradley and his wife Krystal pretty bad, I guess that is normal for Mom’s. They live in California and Krystal is expecting their first baby, and it’s a boy! We can hardly wait till he gets here, still how I wish magically we could all be together for Christmas.  I am missing Lauren and Lee already ( and they aren’t even gone yet ). They keep this house full of laughter and fun, it certainly will be quiet without them here.

This time of year I always think of my Mom and Dad (who have already finished their mission here on earth). Oh how I wish I could just pick up the phone and hear my Mom’s voice, I really miss her. She would have loved meeting these cute little red heads! As for my Dad, we weren’t very close at all, but he taught me to love giving and Christmas, that is one time he was always happy. He gave gifts to everyone, he would start from Thanksgiving on… all the way through Christmas. He and Mom were always making gift baskets for everyone, my Dad had a million friends (guess I inherited that from him ). So the holidays were always special, and living on a farm seemed to make everything even more magical. We had our own sleigh riding hill ( that my Dad had cleared and made just for that ). Actually it was for tubing, it was way to steep for sleds. Still everyone wanted to come tubing at the Johnson’s farm. My Mom would have warm Gingerbread cookies ready with Hot Chocolate for everyone.

As we got older Mom would always call to see how many of her kids could make it home for the Holidays, now I find myself doing the same things. I cry when I hear the song…"I’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS”. Yes, I get very homesick this time of year for my kids, family and friends. So I guess it’s a real good thing that I am going with Jeff and Lauren and Lee  when they head off for college in a couple of weeks. I will stay in Utah while they head off to Idaho, but at least I won’t be here by myself. When we come home to an empty house, at least we will be together.

Many of you who are already Empty Nesters, have shared tips on  how to survive being Empty Nesters and what some of the feelings we will go through, thanks for that advice…it really did help. The truth is though, like everything else…many things we have to just go through (that is where the lessons are learned ), but still it can be tough and I realize that. So thanks for your good advice.

Well, I have got to quit sitting here and thinking to much and get to work, there are lots more gifts to make! Good night dear friends!

 

“Christmas! The very word brings joy to our hearts. No matter how we may dread the rush, the long Christmas lists for gifts and cards to be bought and given, when Christmas Day comes there is still the same warm feeling we had as children, the same warmth that enfolds our hearts and our homes.”     ~Joan Winmill Brown

“Time was with most of us, when Christmas Day, encircling all our limited world like a magic ring, left nothing out for us to miss or seek; bound together all our home enjoyments, affections, and hopes; grouped everything and everyone round the Christmas fire, and make the little picture shining in our bright young eyes, complete.”     ~  Charles Dickens

“Christmas is a time when you get homesick -- even when you're home.”   ~ Carol Nelson

A slice of life!

 

Jean heaved another world-weary sigh. Tucking a strand of shiny black hair behind her ear, she frowned at the teetering tower of Christmas cards waiting to be signed. What was the point? How could she sign only one name? A "couple" required two people, and she was just one.

The legal separation from Don had left her feeling vacant and incomplete. Maybe she would skip the cards this year. And the holiday decorating. Truthfully, even a tree felt like more than she could manage. She had canceled out of the caroling party and the church nativity pageant. Christmas was to be shared, and she had no one to share it with.

The doorbell's insistent ring startled her. Padding to the door in her thick socks, Jean cracked it open against the frigid December night. She peered into the empty darkness of the porch. Instead of a friendly face -- something she could use about now -- she found only a jaunty green gift bag perched on the railing. From whom? she wondered. And why?

Under the bright kitchen light, she pulled out handfuls of shredded gold tinsel, feeling for a gift. Instead, her fingers plucked an envelope from the bottom. Tucked inside was a typed letter. It was a...story?

The little boy was new to the Denmark orphanage, and Christmas was drawing near, Jean read. Already caught up in the tale, she settled into a kitchen chair.

From the other children, he heard tales of a wondrous tree that would appear in the hall on Christmas Eve and of the scores of candles that would light its branches. He heard stories of the mysterious benefactor who made it possible each year.

The little boy's eyes opened wide at the mere thought of all that splendor. The only Christmas tree he had ever seen was through the fogged windows of other people's homes. There was even more, the children insisted. More? Oh, yes! Instead of the orphanage's regular fare of gruel, they would be served fragrant stew and crusty, hot bread that special night.

Last, and best of all, the little boy learned, each of them would receive a holiday treat. He would join the line of children to get his very own....

Jean turned the page. Instead of a continuation, she was startled to read: "Everyone needs to celebrate Christmas, wouldn't you agree? Watch for Part II." She refolded the paper while a faint smile teased the corner of her mouth.

The next day was so busy that Jean forgot all about the story. That evening, she rushed home from work. If she hurried, she'd probably have enough time to decorate the mantle. She pulled out the box of garland, only to drop it when the doorbell rang. Opening the door, she found herself looking at a red gift bag. She reached for it eagerly and pulled out the piece of paper.

...to get his very own orange, Jean read. An orange? That's a treat? she thought incredulously.

An orange! Of his very own? Yes, the others assured him. There would be one apiece. The boy closed his eyes against the wonder of it all. A tree. Candles. A filling meal. And an orange of his very own.

He knew the smell, tangy sweet, but only the smell. He had sniffed oranges at the merchant's stall in the marketplace. Once he had even dared to rub a single finger over the brilliant, pocked skin. He fancied for days that his hand still smelled of orange. But to taste one, to eat one? Heaven.

The story ended abruptly, but Jean didn't mind. She knew more would follow.

The next evening, Jean waited anxiously for the sound of the doorbell. She wasn't disappointed. This time, though, the embossed gold bag was heavier than the others had been. She tore into the envelope resting on top of the tissue paper.

Christmas Eve was all the children had been promised. The piney scent of fir competed with the aroma of lamb stew and homey yeast bread. Scores of candles diffused the room with golden halos. The boy watched in amazement as each child in turn eagerly claimed an orange and politely said "thank you."

The line moved quickly, and he found himself in front of the towering tree and the equally imposing headmaster.

"Too bad, young man, too bad. But the count was in before you arrived. It seems there are no more oranges. Next year. Yes, next year you will receive an orange."

Brokenhearted, the orphan raced up the stairs empty-handed to bury both his face and his tears beneath his pillow.

Wait! This wasn't how she wanted the story to go. Jean felt the boy's pain, his aloneness.

The boy felt a gentle tap on his back. He tried to still his sobs. The tap became more insistent until, at last, he pulled his head from under the pillow.

He smelled it before he saw it. A cloth napkin rested on the mattress. Tucked inside was a peeled orange, tangy sweet. It was made of segments saved from the others. A slice donated from each child. Together they added up to make one whole, complete fruit.

An orange of his very own.

Jean swiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks. From the bottom of the gift bag she pulled out an orange -- a foil-covered chocolate orange--already separated into segments. And for the first time in weeks, she smiled. Really smiled.

She set about making copies of the story, wrapping individual slices of the chocolate orange. There was Mrs. Potter across the street, spending her first Christmas alone in 58 years. There was Melanie down the block, facing her second round of radiation. Her running partner, Jan, single-parenting a difficult teen. Lonely Mr. Bradford losing his eyesight, and Sue, sole care-giver to an aging mother....

A piece from her might help make one whole. -- By Carol McAdoo Rehme

The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to cheer somebody else up.  ~Mark Twain

What a wonderful life I've had!  I only wish I'd realized it sooner.  ~Colette