Wednesday, December 31, 2008
A large family living in a rural area is forced to conjure up its own ideas for entertainment. Money was always in short supply, but our creative juices weren't. What one child could not think of, the other could.
Jewell, the sister, older than me, Paul, three years younger, and I, were middle-born children, who thrived by living on the edge. Handy with a saw and hammer, Ralph, an older brother, possessed a genius for creating items from wood. One year it was a raft. The previous winter he had constructed a crude sled, using 2 by 4s as runners. Then he stretched several 1 by 4s across the top and nailed them securely. The 1 by 4s were strategically spaced at four -inch intervals. The completed work resembled a wooden pallet, sturdy, but too heavy to glide on "soft" snow.
That had not discouraged us the previous winter. When the cumbersome sled would not cooperate, we found a discarded wringer-washer lid, unscrewed the knob, and enjoyed ecstatic hours skimming down the steep, wooded hill at a speed that would make a gazelle blush.
But the three of us wanted a vehicle that could transport us together. After all, what good is an adventure if it can't be shared? Hurriedly, we layered on coats, scarves, and toboggan's, to perform the farm chores. We waddled about like over-stuffed penguins in our bundlesome garb. After the chickens and livestock were fed and loads of wood were wheeled to the porch, we found the sled. The trio knew it would meet the criterion when the deep snow crunched beneath our boots and sloshed over the tops, on our way to the slope.
The slope was a steep, wooded hill near our house. Halfway down the incline, a gnarled root jutted out from an oak stump. It served as a ramp to shoot the sled and its occupant up and off "into the wild blue yonder." This made for an exhilartating experience, even if the landing was sometimes rough, and often ended in the shallow creek a the foot of the hill. No worries that particular day since the creek was frozen.
My sister and I pulled the sled to its destination while Paul followed, the washer lid wedged under one arm. We took turns skimming down the hill on the round lid, to pack the snow for our heavy sled. The rush of the wind stung my face as the lid and I hit the root and sailed through the cool, crip air to land softly, and glide to a stop short of the creek. Exhilarating!
After each had take a turn on the circular lid without incident, we thought it safe to climb onto the sled. Eagerly, we boarded the cumbersome vehicle. Paul sat up front, I took the middle, and Jewell gave us a strong hard shove-off and jumped on the back. Downhill we sped faster and faster until the sled struck the massive root. Whoosh! Our sled flew up and we were airborne. Sis and I managed to keep our grip, but Paul shot forward through the air head-first. He thudded to the ground face up, before we swept over him. Jewell and I hung on to the sled for dear life while the speeding demon gained momentum. The only thing we could see between the slats was our brother's terrified eyes as he cried, "Stop! Stop!" But there was nothing we could do except hang on for the duration...and laugh. It shouldn't have been funny, but we shook so hard that we almost fell off the sled.
Finally, we struck the ice-covered creek, skidded a few feet, and came to a screeching halt. We heard a cracking noise before the ice split and the sled upended like the Titanic. Jewell and I pulled the cumbersome object off Paul's battered body, and brushed the snow and ice from his clothes. Since he was near to tears, we tried to look somber. Then Paul started to wail, "I'm ne-v-ver doin' thi-is ag-ai-n-n!"
When giggles erupted, he stammered, "It's no-o-t fun-ny! I'm go-ing back to the h-hou-u-se!" Shivering and soaked, Paul crawled up the hill. After a few slips, he reached the peak of the slippery slope and slogged back toward the warm Morning Stove and a mug of hot cocoa.
A few more rides rides and Jewell and I were exhausted. We called it a day. Tomorrow we would beging again, and who could tell what thrills awaited our daring trio. Or was it now, "our daring duo."?
The cataclysmic sled ride would always be remembered--though a bit differently from Paul's perspective. And though the years have flown, each Christmas our family gathers around the kitchen table after a delicious meal to recount that day with hilarity.
Paul never grasped the humor, but Jewell and I still giggle when we reount our little brother's glazed eyes as he glared up between the boards on the makeshift sled. And it is with amusement each Christmas Day, that we relive the memory of this rare moment in time.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Whether you are one of those people who start early and plan your celebrations in advance or one who waits until at least November to get started - please keep in mind the True meaning of Christmas and Teach your Children......
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 of the front room, and to my surprise, Santa Claus himself stepped out from behind the Christmas tree. He placed his fingers over his mouth so I would not cry out.
“What are you doing?” I started to ask, but the words lodged in my throat as I saw he had tears in his eyes. His usual jolly manner was gone…gone was the eager, boisterous soul we all know.
He then answered with a simple statement of “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 there bewildered, Santa said again, “Teach the children. Teach them the meaning of Christmas…the meanings that Christmas nowadays has forgotten.”
I started to say, “How can I…” when Santa reached into the toy bag and pulled out a shining star.
“Teach the children the star was the heavenly sign of promise long ages ago. God promised a Savior for the world and the star was a sign of the fulfillment of that promise. The countless shining stars at night, one for each man, now show the burning hope of all mankind.” Santa gently laid the star upon the fireplace mantle and drew forth from the bag a red Christmas tree ornament.
“Teach the children red is the first color of Christmas. It was first used by the faithful people to remind them of the blood which was shed for all the people by the Savior. Christ gave His life and shed His blood that every man might have God’s gift of Eternal Life. Red is deep, intense, vivid…it is the greatest color of all. It is the symbol of the gift of God.”
“Teach the children,” he said as he dislodged a small Christmas tree from the depths of the toy bag. He placed it before the mantle and gently hung the red ornament on it. The deep green of the fir tree was a perfect background for the ornament. Here was the second color of Christmas. “The pure green color of the stately fir tree remains green all year round,” he said. “This depicts the everlasting hope of mankind. Green is the youthful, hopeful, abundant color of nature. All needles point Heavenward, symbols of man’s returning thoughts toward Heaven. The great green tree has been man’s best friend. It has sheltered him, warmed him, made beauty for him.”
Suddenly I heard a soft tinkling sound. “Teach the children that as the lost sheep are found by the sound of the bell, it should ring for a man to return to the fold. It means guidance and return. It further signifies that all are precious in the eyes of the Lord.”
As the soft sound of the bell faded into the night, Santa drew forth a candle. He placed it on the mantle and the soft glow from its tiny flame cast a glow about the darkened room. Odd shapes in shadows slowly danced and weaved upon the walls. “Teach the children,” whispered Santa, “that the candle shows man’s thanks for the star of long ago. Its small light is the mirror of starlight. At first candles were placed on the trees. They were like many glowing stars shining against the dark green. The colored lights now take over in remembrance.”
Santa turned the small Christmas tree lights on and picked up a gift from underneath the tree. He pointed to the large bow and said, “A bow is placed on a present to remind us of the brotherhood of man. We should remember that the bow is tied as men should be tied, all of us together, with the bonds of goodwill toward each other. Goodwill forever is the message of the bow.”
Santa slung his bag over his shoulder and began to reach for the candy cane placed high upon the tree. He unfastened it and reached out toward me with it. “Teach the children that the candy cane represents the shepherd’s crook. The crook on the staff helps bring back the strayed sheep to the flock. The candy cane represents the helping hand we should show at Christmas time. The candy cane is the symbol that we are our brothers’ keepers.
As Santa looked about the room, a feeling of satisfaction shone in his face. He read wonderment in my eyes, and I am sure he sensed my admiration on this night. He reached into his bag and brought forth a holly wreath. He placed it on the door and said, “Please teach the children the wreath symbolizes the eternal nature of love; it never ceases, stops, or ends. It is one continuous round of affection. The wreath does double duty. It is made of many things and in many colors. It should remind us of all the things of Christmas.
Please teach the children.
I did not write this story, have no idea who did but whoever you are - THANK YOU and May God Bless you for reminding the world the true meaning of Christmas.
May you ALL be Blessed in the New Year to Come!
Pamela S Thibodeaux
"Inspirational with an Edge!" (TM)
Sunday, December 28, 2008
As Thanksgiving grew closer this year, he fell into a depression. It would be the first Thanksgiving he hadn't spent with his family. We all felt so bad, but knew it would be in his best interests for him to stick it out, though he talked about quitting. He decided to talk to the Chaplain. What a joy to get a call after he left the Chaplain's office. He said the sun looked so much brighter and he felt as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders. Our prayers had been answered. God had been watching and working in his life.
Then Christmas drew nearer. I worried that he might get depressed again. We all prepared packages to send him for Christmas. My hubby and I hosted a family get-together and I videotaped the festivities. Each person said a special message to Andrew. We also went to church and had members who knew Andrew say a few words on video. We coordinated the mailing so that all our packages arrived on the same day. Andrew called us to thank us and said that he had to change uniforms before going back to work because of the tears of joy at having the scents, tastes, sights and sounds from his family "back home."
Thursday, December 25, 2008
This true story is heartbreaking and tragic...not only for the poorfamily, but for the millions of families all over the world who get socaught up in the business of celebrating the birth of a baby that theyforget all about Him.
I love Christmas and all the wonderfultraditions that go with it, but after hearing this story years ago, Ihave tried my best not to let the traditions overshadow who we arecelebrating. Jesus didn't stay a baby, he grew into a man who laidhis life down for us. The manger story is just the beginning, but onewe should never forget.
In our family we have added the tradition of reading the story ofJesus coming to earth before we open our presents. You don't have todo that, but I encourage us all to not allow Jesus to be smotheredunder the tokens of our celebrating His birth.
Luke 2: 10-12 "But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid. I bringyou good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today inthe town of David a Savior has been born to YOU; he is Christ theLord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped incloths and lying in a manger.'"
Merry Christmas to All!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Ready or Not
I geared up like a general going into battle. I made lists and scanned the sale ads for special buys. I even ordered gifts for out of town relatives so that I could mail them early. I was proud of my efficiency, but something seemed to be missing. Too busy to question what it was, I pushed the nagging sensation from my mind.
Perhaps when we went out as a family to choose our tree, I would get in the mood for Christmas. We took great care in selecting just the right tree. It was tall, full and impressive. We brought it home and worked together to place years of homemade decorations, tinsel, garland and lights on the branches. We plugged in the lights and admired the effect. As I closed up the empty ornament boxes, I felt relieved that this major task had been completed. As the days sped by, I hurried to finish the extra baking and cleaning that always seemed to be a part of the holidays. Each night, as I unplugged the lights on the tree, I counted down another day less to accomplish my tasks.
Too soon, the Sunday before Christmas arrived. I settled down for the sermon, still thinking of several gifts I had yet to buy. My distracted thoughts were brought into focus by the recounting of how Jesus' disciples were gently reprimanded for their lack of perspective.Matthew 26:7 describes how a woman came to Jesus with an alabaster jar of expensive perfume which she pouredon His head. When the disciples saw this, they were outraged. They chastised the woman, saying, "This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor" (Matthew 26:9, NIV).
When the two sisters, Mary and Martha, invited Jusus to supper at their house, Jesus,took another opportunity to teach this truth. While Mary sat at Jesus' feet to listen and learn, Martha came to Jesus and said, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her to come help me."
To Martha's request, Jesus replied, "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things; one thing is needful. Mary has chosen the good portion, which shall not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:38-41, RSV).
Was I so busy cooking, cleaning and buying gifts that I was missing the better portion? The shopping, cooking and cleaning I would always have with me. The sermon reminded me that my opportunity to appreciate this Christmas was passing and would never return.I had begun to take Christmas for granted. In a few days the beautiful tree in the living room would be gone. Perhaps other blessins that I took for granted would be absent with the pasing of another year.
Sadly, I had been so set on fulfilling my tasks, I was losing sight of both my blessings and the reason for the celebration. The joy of Christmas was being crowded out by the thousands of tedious chores and obligations that demanded attention. Communion with my husband, children and even God, was becomming lost in the tyrany of accomplishment. But whatever satisfaction I got from my actions could never be worth missing the spiritual blessing of the season.
That evening after supper, I watched my 5-year-old kneel beside our manger and gingerly finger the figures. She was the third generation to enjoy this family treasure. Her fascination brought back emeories of a quiet time when I was childlike in my wonder of Christmas. I left the dishes and sat beside her on the floor to hear her tell me the story of Jesus' birth. And in that quiet time of wonder, as I set aside all other tasks, I regained the joy of Christmas.
Merry Christmas All!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Rose Ross Zediker
Cream Puff Dessert
1 cup of water
1 cup of flour
1/2 cup of margarine
Mix water & margarine, bring to a boil. Add flour all at once. Stir rapidly until mixture forms a ball and leaves side of pan. Remove from heat & cool. Once cool, add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each egg. Spread in ungreased cake pan. Bake at 400 degrees for 30 minutes. Cool completely.
2-3oz packages of instant vanilla pudding
4 cups of milk
1-8 oz package of cream cheese
1 large carton of Cool Whip
Mix pudding & milk, blend in cream cheese. Spread onto crust. Top with Cool Whip. Chill
I was wrong. They were all ordinary people with extraordinary problems, just like me. We were all thrust into a living nightmare due to circumstances beyond our control. I met doctors, nurses, teachers and paramedics, all with some type of eye disease that had or was robbing them blind. Many had the added burden of facing marital problems because a spouse could not accept the pending blindness. Through this program, we formed an unbreakable bond. We laughed and we cried. Together, we faced an incredible journey filled with endless challenge and heart-wrenching pain. Words can never describe the feeling of being fitted for a white cane, the fear of being in the onslaught of traffic without sight, traveling the long and bitter road from denial to acceptance.
As fate would have it, I was at the program during Christmas that year. We pitched in and had a party, all of us taking part in the celebration. In a huge kitchen, we made cookies and appetizers. But through it all, there was a silent humming that echoed off the walls…depression. For the most part, this was the first Christmas we were facing without vision. Some broke down, others lost their tempers and stormed out of the room, unable to cope with the dark depression and feeling of being segregated and alienated. But then something happened. One woman stood and walked over to the pianist and began singing like an angel, “Oh Holy Night.”
The result was miraculous. Her melodic voice sliced through the depression. When the song ended, there was a moment of silence where you could truly hear a pin drop. And then the applause rose to the heavens, bringing the house down in glorious exultation. Nothing will ever compare to the sheer beauty of that moment. Every time I hear O’ Holy Night, I tear up and remember a time in my life when what didn’t kill me made me stronger.
Oh Holy Night!
Oh Holy Night!
The Stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth!
Long lay the world and sin in error pining
Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!
Fall on your knees
Oh hear the angel voices
Oh night divine
Oh night when Christ was born
Oh night divine
Oh night divine
Led by the light of faith serenely beaming
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand
So led by a star so brightly gleaming
Here come the wise men from Orient land
The King of Kings lay thus in lowly manger
In all our trials born to be our friend
Truly He taught us to love one another
His law is love and His gospel is peace
Change shall He break for the slave is our brother
And in His name all oppression shall cease
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy name.
Monday, December 22, 2008
The twenty-fifth day of December in the 5,099th year of the creation of the world from the time in the beginning when God created the heaven and the earth, the 2,957th year after the flood, the 2,015th year from the birth of Abraham, the 1,510th year from Moses and the going forth of the people of Israel from Egypt, the 1,032nd year from David's being anointed king, and the 65th week according to the prophecy of Daniel and the 194th Olympiad, the 752nd year from the foundation of the city of Rome, the 42nd year of the reign of Octavius Augustus, the whole world being at peace, in the sixth age of the world, Jesus Christ, the Eternal God and the Son of the Eternal Father willing to consecrate the world by his most merciful coming, being conceived by the Holy Spirit and nine months having passed since his conception, was born in Bethlehem of Judea of the Virgin Mary being made man, the nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ according to the flesh.
I pray you all have a blessed Christmas holiday. As my Christmas gift to you, I will give a complimentary copy of my short story, Forever from Paris, to anyone who comments on this post. It's not a Christmas story, but it is a story of hope amid tradgedy--and isn't that what Christmas is all about: Hope. :)
Sunday, December 21, 2008
My father-in-law loved Christmas. He was known for saying that he tried to live as if it were Christmas every day. He meant that he tried to live with the joy and generosity that seem so abundant at Christmas. I do believe he succeeded at that, too. These days he's spending Christmas with Jesus, and I'm sure, enjoying every minute of it, but we still miss him and my mother-in-law as well.
He was also very proud of his Danish heritage and we observed some of the Danish traditions when celebrating Christmas with my in-laws. One of the traditions was to pull the Christmas tree out into the center of the room. Then we'd form a circle around it, join hands and sing Christmas carols while dancing around the tree.
The children loved the tradition of the "nut gift." After Christmas dinner, everyone received a dish of pudding. If we were going for authenticity we would have had rice pudding, but my mother-in-law always made chocolate. Good call on her part, in my opinion.
One of the dishes of pudding has a nut hidden in it. Whoever gets the nut receives a special gift. Usually the gift is candy or cookies. Once the gift was a beautiful and fragrant eucalyptus wreath.
I'm told that in Denmark, the nut game was played before the meal. During tough times, this caused guests to fill up on cheap rice pudding, allowing the hostess to get by with less of the expensive foods, like stuffed goose.
Whatever your family's traditions are, I hope you will have the opportunity to enjoy this Christmas and remember the awesome blessing we celebrate.
Kara Lynn Russell
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Christmas isn't just about opening presents on Christmas Eve. When I was a little girl my mother started a tradition of having Christmas stockings to open on Christmas morning. She didn't want us to feel like Christmas was "over". So she filled our stockings with candy, small toys, and lots of love.
Both my brother and I have continued this tradition. I introduced it to my husband and later to my son-in-law. There is something about watching others open their small gifts, eat their candy or drink their hot chocolate that come out of those stockings that touches my heart.
Does your family do Christmas stockings? If so, what do you normally find them?
Friday, December 19, 2008
When God sent His Son to be born in a manger.
Angels rejoiced as they welcomed His birth,
Shouted, "Glory to God, and to men, peace on earth."
The "Light of the World" He was destined to be,
As He broke sin's bonds to set captives free.
He bore our infirmities, carried our sorrow,
Filled us with joy and a promise of tomorrow.
How could we question God's boundless love,
Who gave us His precious gift from above?
His light scatters darkness to show us the way,
So we might see clearly that He is our stay.
As you enter this season, remember Christ's birth.
For God sent His Son to a desolate earth.
Keep Him alive in your celebrations,
Jesus is our only hope for the nations.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Our small town in Arizona has a unique tradition that is over 50 years
old now. We put on a Christmas Pageant each December. This pageant is
a live reanactment of Jesus' birth. Everyone is welcome to be a part
of it, and everyone is welcome to attend. We do it in the desert,
which our pastor believes is very similar to the place where Jesus was
born. High school students make up most of the cast, and local
ranchers bring in animals. Mary is usually riding a donkey into the
scene and the shepard boys are herding sheep and occasionally, the
goats start wandering into the audience looking for food. In past
years, the Three Wise Men showed up with camels in tow. The chorus is
made up of anyone who wants to share their voice. It really is an
inspiring, spiritaul and magical tradition not to be missed.
This pageant is very near and dear to my heart. When my son was an
infant, he played the baby Jesus. That weekend was amazing. For years,
the pageant coordinators had used a doll. On this year, a hush came
over the audience when they realized that Jesus was a real baby. I can
still remember the excitement and awe in a little girl's voice as she
announced it to the whole crowd. This year, he's old enough to be cast
as a shepard. And in a few years, my daughter will be able to be an
In it's entire history, the pageant has only been cancelled twice.
Once when my daughter was an infant so she couldn't have her chance as
Jesus, and last year because of torrential rain. Our wish is that God
keeps smiling down on us so that we may continue to this incredible
tradition for many years to come so that all can experience the
awesomeness of Jesus' birth.
So what kind of Christmas traditions do you have?
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
When I married, I wanted to continue the same tradition for my family. My husband was a Christmas morning present opener but I convinced him by Christmas Eve of our first year that the twenty-fourth was the appointed day. It is also a very special time, just for the immediate family. There is no extended family or friends, just us surrounded with memories and love.
After my girls’ arrived, the institution was maintained with their own special additions. They are now adults and have yet to start their own families but they have added their own traditions for Christmas Eve. One of them gets to put baby Jesus in the manger and they keep that straight from year because I’ve long since lost track. They have to have exactly the same amount of gifts from us, which I didn’t figure out that was a “has to be” once they were grown and it has sent me scrambling late in the shopping season to keep things even.
And in the custom set forth by my father many years ago, we each fill our plates with “whatever” and enjoy the real meaning of the season.
Monday, December 15, 2008
The first year I participated in the Sharing Tree, my angel was an elderly woman, a 90-year-old shut in. The first problem I encountered was trying to figure out precisely what a shut in was. After doing a little research, I learned a shut in is a person who is unable to leave the house. I also learned my angel was in a nursing home and hated Christmas because she had no one to share it with. The nursing home was relatively close to where I lived, so I asked if it would be all right if I delivered it in person. I thought it would be a nice gesture to show her someone out there cared. The staff thought it a marvelous idea and said it would make her day. But that still presented the problem of what to buy a 90-year-old shut in.
She’d have no need for a warm scarf or a pair of gloves. And clothes were out of the question since I didn’t know her size. A toasty pair of slippers might be nice, but again. HMM. What size? There were books, stories of inspiration. But what if she had cataracts? Or maybe she didn’t like to read. What to do? Out of options, I decided on a Christmas coffee mug filled with chocolate candy. Pleased with myself, off I went to meet my angel on Christmas Eve.
The elderly woman sat upright in bed, all dressed up in a pink bathrobe. She was all smiles, her cheeks glowing with excitement. I introduced myself and extended my hand. Nothing. My heart sank. Slowly but surely, I realized she had no use of her arms. And here I was, ready to hand her a coffee cup filled with candy.
Asking God for guidance, I briefly panicked. But within a few seconds, it became obvious it wasn’t the gift that mattered to the woman, my angel. She wasn’t a child waiting for Santa. She was a woman waiting for a visitor, a friend, someone to share Christmas with. I set the gift down and said nothing. Then I recalled something the nurse had said when I told her I was coming for a visit. She said the lady was an angel, a patient who never gave the staff any trouble. She said if she was guilty of anything, it was her love of sweets. Then it occurred to me. The nurses probably fed her.
Unwrapping the gift, I showed it to her. Her bright blue eyes lit up, spotting the chocolates. Not wanting to go against any nursing home rules, I wagged my finger and told her she’d just have to wait until Christmas morning before she could open the candy. She smiled, a girlish giggle escaping her lips.
I left the nursing home feeling like I’d just visited an angel. She taught me a valuable lesson. It’s not the gift that matters. It’s showing that you care. We are all God’s angels. Let’s spread the cheer this Christmas.
In this season of giving and good cheer, I've a message for all to hear!
Good news and glad tidings sent to all men, for a Savior was born in the town of Bethlehem.
Christ the Lord came down to earth, born in a manger, from holy to lowly by birth.
Throughout His life He chose to live right, to be and example of God's power and might.
To die on a cross in just a few years, but never FEAR!
For in victory He rose from that awful grave.
To give Life to all those He came to save.
So in this time of giving and season of cheer...Remember, Christ is to be praised all through the year.
MERRY CHRISTMAS and Happy New Year!
Pamela S Thibodeaux
"Inspirational with an Edge!" (TM)
Friday, December 12, 2008
2 ½ cups flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
¼ tsp salt
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup margarine
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup brown sugar, firmly packed
1 tsp vanilla extract
Preheat oven to 350. Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt and set aside.
In large bowl with electric mixer beat peanut butter and margarine until smooth. Beat in sugars, then eggs and vanilla until blended. Add flour mixture.
Shape dough into 1 inch balls. On ungreased baking sheets, arrange balls 2 inches apart. With fork dipped in sugar gently flatten cookie and press crisscross pattern into top.
Bake 12 minutes or until lightly golden. Cool on wire rack, store in tightly covered container. Makes 6 dozen small cookies; 3 dozen large
Thursday, December 11, 2008
As a writer I’ve found a way to do just that. I’ve written poems for new parents, anniversary, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day and Christmas.
You may be thinking that’s nice, but how do you give these poems as a gift?
The poem for new parents, color in pink and blue, add clipart, personalize, and put in a pretty frame and you have a wall plaque. Same goes for the anniversary, Mother’s Day or Father’s day poems – use a pretty font, add clipart, print on nice paper and frame.
But what about Christmas?
Make tree ornaments!
Create a document with 4 copies of the poem in red and green font on page one and a cute Christmas picture on page two – which is printed on the back. Laminate the pages and cut each individual poem out. You can use special scissors, Christmas cookie cutters (the large ones), or just your imagination to design each one. Lace, ribbon, colored pipe cleaners, tiny boxes, and stickers make cute accessories. And of course, you’ll need a small hole-puncher to add the hook.
Simple, inexpensive and a gift that will be treasured by family and friends for years to come!
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
To search each crevice in each family's house.
With a plan to spoil the season's good cheer,
He whispered grumblings in everyone's ear.
He devised and schemed in evil mirth
To steal Christmas away from all the earth.
He approached the Creator to get permission.
If the Grouch won his debate, he would set off on his mission.
He filed a complaint and prepared his case,
Stated his arguments, and started to pace,
To and fro in front of God's Throne,
His raspy voice a wearisome drone.
God granted his request, but it would quickly be stayed
If the Grouch found just one who gave thanks while he prayed.
Smirking and sneering, he left with a nod
And laughed at how easy it was to fool God.
Not a moment to waste, he sped through the city
Invaded each home, decorated so pretty.
He lurked in the shadows and watched as each said,
"I am so weary. I must get to bed."
Folks were too busy, so much on each mind
That time with the Father was so hard to find.
The Grouch slinked through each bedroom delighted, amazed.
Not one took time to offer up praise.
Dauntless and smug, He boasted to himself,
"My case has been won, and with so much time left.
One more stop and it will be in the bag,
Then I will bombard heaven to gloat and to brag."
He glided through town on that cold winter's night
Wait! A movement through a window caught the Grouch's sight.
He slithered inside. Oh what could this be?
A tiny child, hands clasped, down on his knees?
Thanking the Father for Jesus' birth,
Saying, "Good will to all and peace on the earth."
As the child whispered, "God bless everyone,"
The Grouch knew his cas would never be won.
Enraged and furious, he yanked out his hair,
Stamped away shrieking, "It's not fair! It's not fair!"
The Creator smiled down, said, "You do not understand.
Salvation exists because Christmas began.
"I longed to show each soul its true worth
So Jesus was born on desolate earth.
And as a result of My gift from above,
Christmas is eternal, and so is My love."
Authors note: I hope you enjoyed it. Five years ago--two weeks before Christmas--I awoke with the first two stanzas on my mind. As the day lengthened, so did the poem.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
With the frigid weather and the snow falling outdoors, it is beginning to look a lot like Christmas. At my house, we begin our Christmas Eve dinner by breaking wafers with each guest seated at the table. Not only is this said to bring good luck, but it is our way of sharing what we have with one another.
What makes Christmas special to me is the traditions passed on from generation to generation, instilling in me a strong sense of hearth and home. After the breaking of the wafers, the well wishes and cheers, and the feast prepared by many hands, we reminisce over coffee and dessert. Sooner or later, one of us will bring up the good old days when we were kids and put up our train set in the basement, our own little Santa village.
It all started on Thanksgiving weekend, the entire family trooping downstairs like little elves, each with a designated task. My dad and brother put up the platform, carefully nailing the track down, hammering away like Santa’s helpers. My sister and I were in charge of going through box after box of houses, telephone poles, street lamps and tunnels, dusting them off and making them shine for “Light up” night.
After a few hours, the insatiable aroma of sugar cookies wafted from the kitchen, and before long, Mom brought down a platter of the oven-fresh cookies, our family dog hot on her heels. We’d dust off our hands, turn off the lights and watch our little village come to life while sipping on hot cocoa and holiday treats.
A week or so before Christmas, the freshly cut tree went up, filling the house with the heady scent of pine. We strung popcorn and trimmed the plump tree with bright lights and shiny ornaments, icicles and the angel tree top. The Nativity Set was placed below the tree, the cardboard lid staying closed until Christmas morning when the Christ child was exposed, along with the Holy Family, The Three Wise Men and manger animals. Before we opened our gifts, we’d kneel down and wish the Baby Jesus a Merry Christmas.
One Christmas Day, we went to my aunts for dinner. To our amazement, she brought out a birthday cake with no candles. Her entire family sang “Happy Birthday Dear Jesus, Happy Birthday to you.”
This memory has burned a lasting imprint in my brain, one I often reflect on when holiday stress gets the best of me. How easy it is to get caught up in the madness of the season, the shopping, the baking, the business. Year after year, the true meaning of Christmas is lost in the shuffle.
I’d like to start a new tradition this year in honor of my aunt. In these trying times, let’s find it in our hearts to remember why Our Savior was born—to lead us to the perfect light.
“Happy Birthday Dear Jesus, Happy Birthday to you!”
Have a comment? Please leave one.
My favorite will win a prize—to be announced on Christmas Eve. Wishing you a wonderful and blessed Christmas.
TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL
COMING FROM THE WILD ROSE PRESS
JANUARY 7, 2009
THE CLADDAGH RING
COMING FROM THE WILD ROSE PRESS
FEBRUARY 25, 2009
COMING FROM THE WILD ROSE PRESS
MARCH 18, 2009
Sunday, December 7, 2008
2 cups flour
½ tsp salt
1 tsp ground cloves
1 tsp ginger
1 tsp cinnamon
3 tsp baking soda
¾ cup soft vegetable shorting
1 cup granulated sugar
¼ cup light molasses.
Heat oven to 350
Sift flour with salt, cloves, ginger, cinnamon and baking soda.
In large bowl with electric mixer at medium speed, cream shortening until light and fluffy, gradually adding sugar. Blend in egg and molasses. Stir in flour mixture until well blended.
Shape dough into 1 ½ inch balls, roll in granulated sugar. Place 3 inches apart on ungreased cookie sheets. Flatten with fingers; sprinkle more sugar on top.
Bake 8 – 10 minutes.
Cool and store in tightly covered container. Makes 18
Saturday, December 6, 2008
White Rose Author, Cindy K Green is hosting a White Christmas Jubilee over at her blog!
Here are the details:
Come one, Come all to a special Christmas Book Giveaway Event!
December 8th to the 14th -- 14 Authors ~ 14 Holiday Book Giveaways
Monday, December 8th – Rose Ross Zediker & Jan Scarbrough
Tuesday, December 9th – Pamela Thibodeaux & Linda Swift
Wednesday, December 10th – Cindy K. Green & Sarita Leone
Thursday, December 11th – Kara Lynn Russell & Anna Kathryn Lanier
Friday, December 12th – Marianne Arkins & Stacey Joy Netzel
Saturday, December 13th – Nan Jacobs & Teri Wilson
Sunday, December 14th – Stacy Dawn & Carla Rossi
Also: Your favorite White Rose Authors are celebrating Christmas all month long right here on the White Roses in Bloom Blog!
Free Books, Holiday Recipes, and Excerpts to warm you to the tips of your toes.
Make sure to pop in everyday for a chance to win. There will be lots going on everyday--all day long.
Who knows, you may even receive a gift for posting a comment :-)
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Baking for the holidays is a tradition in most homes, so that's why I incorporated it into the story in Through The Eyes of Love. Today I'd like to share a recipe passed down from my Grandma Ross. This is an easy and quick recipe that requires no cooking or baking so it's great for little hands to help with!
Creamy Chocolate Pie
1 small box of instant chocolate pudding
1 cup of milk
Mix together with whisk until thick. Add 1 1/2 cups whipped topping(lite doesn't work well). Pour into premade graham cracker crust. Top with the remaining whipping topping and sprinkle with chopped nuts.
I hope you enjoy this pie as much as my family has over the years.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
It's time to get out the tinsel and the mistletoe because the White Roses in Bloom are ready to celebrate Christmas! Watch for special posts all through the month in which your favorite White Rose authors share stories, tips, recipes and more to help you get ready for Christmas. You won't want to miss it. It will be much more relaxing than a trip to the mall.
Come back often this month to join in the celebration!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Gratitude is a choice, just like faith and believing is a choice and sometimes it behooves us to meditate on the blessings in our lives every day! Even when things seem to be at their absolute worst, there is always something to be grateful for.
One of the things I’m grateful for in my life is this talent, this gift from God to write. Whether it be through novels, short stories, articles, poems/devotionals or blog posts, I do my best to show my gratitude and to share with you my faith and His goodness.
Here’s a little poem I wrote which encapsulates my feelings about the holiday season:
As we journey through this special time of year
We give Thanks, share Joy, and spread lots of Cheer
Let us keep in mind that life is a gift and offer God praise
And always remember to keep the holidays, Holy Days.
So as you approach this Thanksgiving Day remember to be grateful for every blessing, whether small or large…because God will not give you something else to complain about!
Pamela S Thibodeaux
“Inspirational with an Edge!” ™
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
1.Send kids off to school, husband off to work and go back to bed. Watch TV and surf the internet in peace and comfort.
2.Only get out of bed and get dressed because your mother calls and asks you out to lunch.
3.Ask your husband to make dinner. (Which means take-out!)
4.Gather your family to watch one of your favorite shows because your husband got you the DVD set!
5.Forget the cake! Buy yourself a decadent dessert like Raspberry Cream Cheese Pie (or whatever you like.)
6.Don’t worry about your age. You can’t avoid or skip birthdays so relax and enjoy them.
7.Laugh a lot.
8.Count your blessings.
9.Think about great things to come in the future.
10.Throw yourself a birthday blog party!
My birthday blog party was a great idea because:
1.I got to party in my pajamas.
2.My dear friends said lots of nice things about me.
3.I can print out the things they said and keep them forever.
4.Don’t have to worry about photos that can be used against me later.
5.The party didn’t cost me a thing!
Well, except the cost of the gift basket, but that was optional on my part. I wish I had a gift basket to send to everyone who posted. All of you helped make this the best birthday ever! Cora should be posting the gift basket winner any minute now!
Monday, November 24, 2008
Tomorrow is that landmark birthday for me - forty years old. A few people have asked me if I'm depressed about this or shared how depressing they found turning forty.
I admit to being a little depressed last year when I turned 39. The big 4-O seemed to be looming on the horizon, waiting to crush me. I've thought about it on and off during the year and was sometimes a little blue, but on the whole, I think I'm over it.
After all, what do I have to be depressed about? I have an absolutely great family. I have wonderful friends. I enjoy my job as library director to a small, rural library. I love my home. And I have my writing.
I feel honored to have been published by the Wild Rose Press. As a white rose author I have become very rich. Okay, I'm not talking about royalty checks here. I have become rich with friends and experiences.
I've always wanted to be a writer, from the time I learned to read. One of my oldest memories is of writing comic books with my brother - who is also a writer. The Wild Rose Press made my dream come true. I've been very fortunate to have been able to write and share the stories of my heart, to share my faith within those stories, and to have met my beautiful, amazing friends who are all part of The White Roses in Bloom.
I've spent the last year writing the Orchard Hill Romance series. I am so blessed to have an editor who believed in me enough to take on this project on the basis of one and an half finished stories and a proposal. Orchard Hill belongs to her as much as it does to me. I am also blessed by my family and friends who have encouraged and supported me all year.
This entry was meant to be about birthdays, but I guess it's more about Thanksgiving. Luckily that's later this week, so it fits. Anyway, all these blessings are the reason I'm not depressed about turning forty. Why would I want anything else than the life I already have? (Okay, there are times when I might think otherwise, but down deep, I know I am exactly where I want to be. And more importantly, I think I am where God wants me to be.)
So I won't be shedding any tears over this birthday. Instead, I'm going to celebrate all I can. Stop by my blog today or tomorrow and wish me a happy birthday. If you do, you'll be entered in a drawing for an Orchard Hill gift basket. Please be sure to leave your contact information, so I can notify you if you win.
Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me...
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
This is Cora here in Orchard Hill. Thanksgiving is coming up fast. Before the leftovers are gone we'll be swept up in Christmas preparations - sending cards, buying gifts, the annual quilter's circle Christmas Tea and so on. Before all the activity starts, it would be smart to enjoy the quiet with a good book or two.
Finding Joy, the final story in the Orchard Hill Romance series will be released from The Wild Rose Press tomorrow. Kara sent me a blurb and excerpt to post for you -
Shy, timid Joy Harper, the organist for Orchard Hill Community Church has long been overlooked by Pastor Isaac. Then Pansy Parker announces she’s retiring and Joy is asked to fill in as secretary. With an unusually large number of weddings coming up and the Christmas holidays looming, Joy and Isaac put in a lot of hours together and he discovers a beautiful and caring woman beneath Joy’s reserved façade. Can he convince her that the only gift he wants for Christmas is her heart?
Excerpt (Isaac goes to Joy's house to ask about her filling in for Pansy)
“May I speak with Joy?”
“Certainly.” The woman led him to a room that reminded him of a Victorian parlor. “She’s filling the bird feeders, but I’ll call her in.”
The large window at one end of the room drew Isaac. It had a view of the back yard. There seemed to be plenty of bird feeders to fill. And they must need to be filled often he guessed. It was one busy bird restaurant out there. A broad lawn sloped down and away from the house. There were beds that must have flowers during summer and walks flanked by concrete planters. The lawn was also dotted with mature trees and shrubs, which no doubt, attracted the birds.
Then he saw her. Joy was standing completely still, the sunshine turning her hair to gold. A chickadee flew down to her outstretched hand and took some of the seed she offered. When the tiny ball of fluff took flight, another eagerly took his place.
Joy’s face was alight with happiness, and she looked more like an angel than ever, standing there with birds fluttering all around her. A brilliant red cardinal rested briefly on her shoulder and then flew away again. She laughed, and Isaac’s heart skipped a beat. What was he doing here?
Thanks for reading!
Posted by Kara Lynn Russe
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Christmas is on the horizon, and what a better way to spend it than looking for a boyfriend, right? That's what Heather will have to do if she doesn't want her mother picking one for her.
WANTED: BOYFRIEND FOR CHRISTMAS just released in electronic form (print Feb.) from the Wild Rose Press.
Here is a blurb:
Due to a childhood tragedy, Heather has a hard time dating and keeping a boyfriend. With her thirtieth birthday looming in the near future, her mother is determined to play matchmaker over the Christmas holiday. Not wanting her dating life to fall in the hands of the one who bore her, Heather is determined to find Mr. Right via the Classified ads. Time is short and the race is on. But if she'd slow down and open her heart, she might discover that love has been there all along.
To find out more go HERE.
CONTEST: Purchase WANTED: BOYFRIEND FOR CHRISTMAS and be entered to win a free copy of A GIRL NAMED CHRISTMAS,also from Kimberlee. Just go to her website and list the name of one of the yahoos Heather dated, and you'll be entered to win. Winners announced December 23.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Losing Patience, the eighth story in my Orchard Hill Romance Series was released today from the Wild Rose Press.
Shaun Thiesen’s jealous nature and quick temper drove his wife Patience away. Since then he’s been through counseling with Pastor Isaac and gotten involved with the church. Now he’s just waiting for his second chance. When he learns Patience is visiting her parents for Thanksgiving, he thinks this may be it. In only a few precious days he has to win back his wife, and suddenly the stakes are raised when Patience tells him he’s going to be a father. Can Shaun show convince her they deserve a second chance?
Excerpt - Shaun and Patience's first meeting after their separation
He couldn’t believe how beautiful she was, with her long blonde hair hanging loose and that sweet smile lighting up her face as she walked towards him. She couldn’t be here to tell him she wanted a divorce if she smiled at him like that, could she?
Then his gaze dropped and... He tried to comprehend what he was seeing. Patience, his wife was...going to have a baby. His baby. He was going to be a father. And she hadn’t told him.
A wave of confusion, hurt, betrayal, fear broke over him. A slow burning sensation he knew well surged, pulsing in his temples—anger.
Patience stopped, and her eyes filled with tears. The look on her face made him hesitate. He’d driven her away with his ungovernable temper. If he lost it now, she’d run again. He knew he didn’t want that. But he knew he couldn’t contain his anger either. If he stayed, he would explode. So he turned around and left.
Thanks for reading! Don't forget to stop by my Orchard Hill Blog and find out about my contest this month. Enter to win a gift basket.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Can you believe it's November already? This is a great time of year. I love the cool, crisp feel to the air, the spicy cranberry and pumpkin scents and flavors and the family gathering for Thanksgiving. November is also my birthday month. This year I find myself looking forward to that day with less enthusiasm than usual. Looming ahead is the dreaded Milestone Birthday. One of those that end with a (shudder) zero.
I've looked at this problem from every angle and decided there's no way I can avoid this event. So I might as well celebrate. One of the best things about birthdays is presents. Since I don't think everyone out in cyberspace is going to send me a birthday present, I've decided to give one instead.
In honor of my Orchard Hill Romance series, which will soon be drawing to a close, I created a gift basket. Stop by my Orchard Hill Highlights blog November 24th or 25th to wish me a happy birthday, and you'll be entered in a drawing for my gift basket. Don't forget to leave an email address where I can contact you if you win.
What's in the basket? Stay tuned for more information. Cora will post a picture and a description on the blog next week.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thank you! Thank You! Thank You!
White Roses in Bloom
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Folks, we’re talking BIG here. Apparently, it’s out hunting. Okay, breathe; those Lamaze classes certainly come in handy four years AFTER labor. I contemplated my next move. I could wait it out. NOT! Tarantulas are nocturnal. I could sleep in my not so comfortable car, or I could get out and fight the do I need to reiterate big and hairy spider? In between bouts of irrational musings, I decided to get out of the car and show this arachnid who’s the boss.
Not an easy feat for someone deathly afraid of anything with more than four legs. Stems back to childhood which I refuse to talk about. With husband and children in bed, I had no choice. So spying the offensive creature lying in wait for the unsuspecting dinner (ME) to cross his path, I grab the nearest thing that resembled a pole to shush the thing onto darker, stormier journeys. Now I know why I’ve kept that old broken shower curtain rod by the garage door all these years. I finally could put it to good use.
Let me tell you, Harry was huge. Oh, excuse me...I did tell you this before, but this great brown beast with eight legs was bigger than a breadbox. Hey, it’s my story and I can exaggerate. This particular spider was bigger than the last one I evicted. Harry Jr. must have been the son or daughter old Harry here, but believe me, I wasn’t about to check the sex as I showed it the door. Junior went quietly into the big box. Harry, on the other hand, wouldn’t give up his nice comfy surroundings with abundant food and some semblance of protection without a fight.
Did I mention tarantulas can JUMP? Fascinating as they are to watch each fat, hairy leg stretch and move in a synchronized fashion like those swimmers at the Olympics, this particular one wanted no part of “There’s the door, now stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine and we’ll all be happy” tune. Nope. He kept trying to turn around and crawl back in. And I kept poking him with the metal rod in the direction of the great outdoors. After five minutes, victory was mine.
Which got me to thinking about determination. Harry was determined to stay in my garage. I was MORE determined to evict the huge, hairy beast. The one with the most determination gained the prize. Just as I won in the writing world.
Did I let Harry get the best of me each time he turned around and tried to crawl back into the garage? No. I kept at him, prodding him along. Ergo, did I let each rejection letter end my dreams of being published? No. I kept taking classes and reading articles and honing my craft. But most of all I kept submitting. I kept at it against all odds even when it seemed like I had enough rejection letters to paper my bathroom wall.
Even when Harry lifted his big, fat hairy you-know what at me,– it’s a defense mechanism so I’ve been told – I didn’t let him stop me from my dream of a Tarantula free garage. (or at least the idea that I couldn’t SEE any more of them)
It’s that way with writing, folks. It’s a spider-eat cricket world out there. If you don’t have the guts to keep trying, get out of the way of those authors who will. Because in the long run, all your hard work and determination will pay off. Eventually, I found an editor who got my work. You will, too.
So that’s my story and I’m sticking to it, until tomorrow night that is when Harry, the gargantuan beast, lifts the garage door by himself and crawls back in, or I receive another one of those SASE’s containing a “Thanks but no thanks” form letter. As before, I’ll be ready. I’ll pull out that long pole or log onto my computer again and start the process all over again.
Monday, October 27, 2008
It seems these days if you write one book, you inevitably will write a sequel. What is this desire authors have with sequels, trilogies or even huge sagas? Is it really reader demand that fuels this phenomenon or are we authors just not ready to say goodbye to our characters?
I’m just as guilty as the rest as I’ve a romantic suspense series of which I am in the middle of writing the third installment and having more fun with these characters than ever before. Now I’ve started work on a sequel to my Inspirational, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Your Wedding.
My motivations? Most often when I write a sequel it is because it has been requested. Readers and reviewers both have asked me to write a sequel to A Funny Thing. Just recently, a storyline came to me. The sequel starts two and a half years after the end of the first novel and it will focus on Alice Steele—the younger sister of the hero from A Funny Thing. Don’t worry Randy and Kari will show up too.
Here is an excerpt of
“Hey brother,” called
Unfortunately, Randy was in no mood. He turned and looked at her with annoyance. “Does Mother need me to do…something? I need something to do.”
“What’s wrong with you, Randy? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this distracted. Didn’t your date with Kari go off well?”
“It went great; Kari was great.” He tried to maintain an easygoing expression, but irritability had slipped into his tone and he knew it.
“Okay, now when are you going to tell me the truth,” she asked, her eyes sharply assessed his face.
Randy lay back on the bed next to her and took in a deep breath. “The date really did go well. We had a lot of fun together.”
“Did you kiss her?” she whispered in his ear.
“You did. I can see it in your eyes…You love her!”
Randy sat up, too. “You sure know how to jump to conclusions.”
His sister flashed him a knowing smile. “Okay, you’re right,” he finally admitted. “I did kiss
her, and I…I do love her. But when it came down to it the other night, I panicked and fled like a coward.
She must hate me now.”
“Randy, if she really is the one for you then she won’t hate you. She’s probably just confused and possibly mortified. You better let me take over from here on out.”
If you haven't read A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Your Wedding, it is available at The Wild Rose Press. In e-book format, it is also at Fictionwise. Also available in print at Amazon & Barnes and Noble.
To read the entire 1st chapter visit my website.
My short Inspirational story, Relationship Rescue, was recently reviewed by author, Victoria Pitts-Caine. To read the review, please stop by her website.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
I try to ignore the news these days. I honestly don't want to know that our economy is collapsing, listen to the presidential candidates sling insults at each other, or hear about the latest attack on an innocent person. But it's impossible to avoid hearing about or being effected by the world we live in. Our world is growing increasingly wicked and unless you are Pollyanna you probably have felt afraid, depressed, and worried.
We don't need to be afraid. The Lord is with us. He has promised to lift, guide, protect, and bless us if we will but turn our hearts to Him.
Genesis 26:24 - "Fear not, for I am with thee." We don't need to fear. The Lord is on our side.
1 John 4:18 - "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear." Don't you love that line? The Lord's love is perfect love. It can cast out our fear if we will trust in him.
Matthew 21:21-22 - "If ye have faith, and doubt not . . . it shall be done. And all things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive." The Savior is speaking to all of us here. Please get on your knees and turn to him in prayer. Our great country can be preserved if we will but recognize and thank the source of our blessings.
I testify to all of you that miracles have not ceased. The Lord loves each of you and is waiting to bless you. All you have to do is turn to him. I believe that through our faith and obedience we will be blessed and will not need to fear.
May the Lord bless and keep all of you,
Friday, October 24, 2008
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Harmony Solberg is happy with her quiet, orderly existence. Then Joseph Velasquez and his brood of noisy children, teenagers move next door, shattering her peace. Against her will, she’s drawn into the children’s lives. Soon she’s sewing Halloween costumes and helping out with the church’s fall harvest party. Harmony realizes that she’d rather have a loud, chaotic life with Joseph and family than go back to her lonely old life but Joseph doesn’t seem to think she’s cut out for it. Will she be able to convince him, with a few tricks and maybe a treat or two?
True Love Never Runs Smoothly
Hope was very nice about the whole thing, considering that Joseph just showed up on her doorstep with Harmony that evening. Her eyes grew big when she opened the door and saw her brother with an overnight bag in one hand. With his other hand, he was holding onto the arm of a clearly outraged Harmony.
“Can Harmony stay with you tonight?” he asked abruptly.
“Um…sure.” She took a step back and motioned them inside. “Come in. Oliver and I were just watching a movie.”
Harmony glared at Joseph. “You see, she’s busy. I’ll be fine at my house.”
“Ignore her,” Joseph ordered his sister. “She needs a place to stay for the night, and she won’t stay at my house.”
Hope’s mouth dropped open and her gaze went back and forth between them. She obviously wanted to say something but was at a loss.
Oliver stuck his head out of the living room and said, “Hi Joseph, Harmony.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, Oliver,” said Harmony, with a scorching glance at Joseph. “But I wasn’t given much choice.”
“Is…is there a problem at Harmony’s?” asked Hope, a bit timidly.
“Yes,” replied Joseph at exactly the same time that Harmony said “No.”
Hope and Oliver exchanged looks. “Which is it?” Oliver ventured.
Harmony’s eyes narrowed and she pointed at Joseph. “The only problem is that my bathroom no longer has a door.”
Joseph’s face darkened further, which Harmony thought a remarkable feat. “If you had come out when I asked you, I wouldn’t have had to take it off the hinges.”
Monday, October 6, 2008
I am but a small part in the vastness. If my existence were to be weighed out, it would be meager to that in the scale pan opposite mine, the one holding the expanse of the universe.
My candle in the darkness will burn for a mere second between the beginning and end of things. But within me there is a purpose, a passion, and a reason to exist. I did not create this ability but it is my responsibility to nurture it.
To whom much is given, much is expected. - Luke 12:48. Therefore I feel I’m compelled to be a writer and share my beliefs through what I write. If the flow back doesn’t equal the flow from me then it isn’t I who is at a loss. I’ve done what I intended to do.
Victoria Pitts Caine