Chicken Soup

[HisDaughter]

The Window Through Which We Look


A young couple moves into a new neighborhood.

The next morning while they are eating breakfast,

The young woman sees her neighbor hanging the wash outside.

"That laundry is not very clean", she said.

"She doesn't know how to wash correctly.

Perhaps she needs better laundry soap."

Her husband looked on, but remained silent.

Every time her neighbor would hang her wash to dry,

The young woman would make the same comments.

About one month later, the woman was surprised to see a

Nice clean wash on the line and said to her husband:

"Look, she has learned how to wash correctly.

 I wonder who taught her this."

The husband said, "I got up early this morning and

Cleaned our windows."


And so it is with life. What we see when watching others

Depends on the purity of the window through which we look.

                 

[HisDaughter]

A father wanted to read a magazine but was being bothered by his little girl, Shelby. She wanted to know what the United States looked like. Finally, he tore a sheet out of his new magazine on which was printed the map of the country. Tearing it into small pieces, he gave it to Shelby and said, "Go into the other room and see if you can put this together. This will show you our whole country today.”

After a few minutes, Shelby returned and handed him the map, correctly fitted and taped together. The father was surprised and asked how she had finished so quickly. 'Oh,' she said, 'on the other side of the paper is a picture of Jesus. When I got all of Jesus back where He belonged, then our country just came together.'

[HisDaughter]

"Are You God's Wife?"

An eye witness account from New York City...On a cold day in December, some years ago:

A little boy, about 10-years-old, was standing before a shoe store on the roadway, barefooted, peering through the window, and shivering with cold.

A lady approached the young boy and said, 'My, but you're in such deep thought staring in that window!'

'I was asking God to give me a pair of shoes,' was the boy's reply.

The lady took him by the hand, went into the store, and asked the clerk to get half a dozen pairs of socks for the boy. She then asked if he could give her a basin of water and a towel. He quickly brought them to her.

She took the little fellow to the back part of the store and, removing her gloves, knelt down, washed his little feet, and dried them with the towel.

By this time, the clerk had returned with the socks. Placing a pair upon the boy's feet, she purchased him a pair of shoes.

She tied up the remaining pairs of socks and gave them to him.. She patted him on the head and said, 'No doubt, you will be more comfortable now.'

As she turned to go, the astonished kid caught her by the hand, and looking up into her face, with tears in his eyes, asked her.

'Are you God's wife?'

[HisDaughter]

Now That's God

It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dry season that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through.

Every day, my husband and his brothers would go about the arduous process of trying to get water to the fields. Lately this process had involved taking a truck to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water. But severe rationing had cut everyone off.

If we didn’t see some rain soon...we would lose everything.

It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes. I was in the kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers when I saw my six-year-old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn't walking with the usual carefree abandon of a youth but with a serious purpose. I could only see his back. He was obviously walking with a great effort ... trying to be as still as possible. Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running out again, toward the house.

I went back to making sandwiches; thinking that whatever task he had been doing was completed. Moments later, however, he was once again walking in that slow purposeful stride toward the woods. This activity went on for an hour: walking carefully to the woods, running back to the house.

Finally I couldn't take it any longer and I crept out of the house and followed him on his journey (being very careful not to be seen...as he was obviously doing important work and didn't need his Mommy checking up on him). He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked, being very careful not to spill the water he held in them ... maybe two or three tablespoons were held in his tiny hands. I sneaked close as he went into the woods. Branches and thorns slapped his little face, but he did not try to avoid them. He had a much higher purpose. As I leaned in to spy on him, I saw the most amazing site.

Several large deer loomed in front of him. Billy walked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get away. A huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But the buck did not threaten him...he didn't even move as Billy knelt down. And I saw a tiny fawn lying on the ground; obviously suffering from dehydration and heat exhaustion, lift its head with great effort to lap up the water cupped in my beautiful boy's hand. When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I hid behind a tree.

I followed him back to the house to a spigot to which we had shut off the water. Billy opened it all the way up and a small trickle began to creep out. He knelt there, letting the drip, drip slowly fill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little back. And it came clear to me: The trouble he had gotten into for playing with the hose the week before. The lecture he had received about the importance of not wasting water. The reason he didn't ask me to help him. It took almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands. When he stood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him.

His little eyes just filled with tears. "I'm not wasting," was all he said. As he began his walk, I joined him...with a small pot of water from the kitchen. I let him tend to the fawn. I stayed away. It was his job. I stood on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I have ever known working so hard to save another life. As the tears that rolled down my face began to hit the ground, other drops...and more drops...and more suddenly joined them. I looked up at the sky. It was as if God, himself, was weeping with pride.

Some will probably say that this was all just a huge coincidence. Those miracles don't really exist. That it was bound to rain sometime. And I can't argue with that... I'm not going to try. All I can say is that the rain that came that day saved our farm...just like the actions of one little boy saved another.

I don't know if anyone will read this...but I had to send it out. To honor the memory of my beautiful Billy, who was taken from me much too soon... But not before showing me the true face of God, in a little, sunburned body.

THAT'S GOD

Have you ever been just sitting there and all of a sudden you feel like doing something nice for someone you care for?

THAT'S GOD! He speaks to you through the Holy Spirit

Have you ever been down and out and nobody seems to be around for you to talk to?

THAT'S GOD! He wants you to speak to Him.

Have you ever been thinking about somebody that you haven't seen in a long time and then next thing you know you see them or receive a phone call from them?

THAT'S GOD! There's no such thing as coincidence.

Have you ever received something wonderful that you didn't even ask for, like money in the mail, a debt that had mysteriously been cleared, or a coupon to a department store where you had just seen something you wanted, but couldn't afford.

THAT'S GOD. . He knows the desires of your heart. .

Have you ever been in a situation and you had no clue how it is going to get better, but now you look back on it?

THAT'S GOD! He passes us through tribulation to see a brighter day.

Don't tell GOD how Big your storm is.
Tell the storm how Big your GOD is!

[nChrist]

AMEN!

[HisDaughter]

The Blind Horse

Near my home is a field, with two horses in it.

From a distance, each horse looks like any other horse. But if you stop your car, or are walking by, you will notice something quite amazing....

Looking into the eyes of one horse will disclose that he is blind. His owner has chosen not to have him put down, but has made a good home for him.

This alone is amazing.

If you stand nearby and listen, you will hear the sound of a bell. Looking around for the source of the sound, you will see that it comes from the smaller horse in the field.

Attached to the horse's halter is a small bell. It lets the blind friend know where the other horse is, so he can follow.

As you stand and watch these two friends, you'll see that the horse with the bell is always checking on the blind horse, and that the blind horse will listen for the bell and then slowly walk to where the other horse is, trusting that he will not be led astray.

When the horse with the bell returns to the shelter of the barn each evening, it stops occasionally and looks back, making sure that the blind friend isn't too far behind to hear the bell.

Like the owners of these two horses, God does not throw us away just because we are not perfect or because we have problems or challenges.

He watches over us and even brings others into our lives to help us when we are in need.

Sometimes we are the blind horse being guided by the little ringing bell of those who God places in our lives. Other times we are the guide horse, helping others to find their way....

Good friends are like that ... You may not always see them, but you know they are always there.

Please listen for my bell and I'll listen for yours.

And remember... Be kinder than necessary - Everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

Live simply,
Love generously,
Care deeply,
Speak kindly....
Leave the rest to God

[HisDaughter]

Letter from Jesus about Christmas --
 
It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season. 

How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth, just GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER.
 
Now, having said that ,  let Me go on. If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene   on your own front lawn .  If all My followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.
 
Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: I actually spoke of that one in a teaching, explaining who I am in relation to you and what each of our tasks were. If you have forgotten that one, look up John 15: 1 - 8.
 
If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it:
 
1.   Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.
 
2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.
 
3. Instead of writing the President complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sent out this year, why don't you write and tell him that you'll be praying for him and his family this year. Then follow up... It will be nice hearing from you again.
 
4. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.
 
5 Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.
 
6. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take  his/her  own life this season because  he/she  feel s    so alone and hopeless?  Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile; it could make the difference.
 
7. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn't make so much money on that day they'd close and let their employees spend the day at home with their families
 
8. If you really want to make a difference, support a missionary-- especially one who takes My love and Good News to those who have never heard My name.
 
9. Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them, buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me and they will make the delivery for you.
 
10. Finally, if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine.
 
Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above and get to work; time is short. I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love and remember :

I LOVE YOU,
 
JESUS

[nChrist]

Letter from Jesus about Christmas --
 
It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season. 

How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth, just GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER.
 
Now, having said that ,  let Me go on. If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene   on your own front lawn .  If all My followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.
 
Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: I actually spoke of that one in a teaching, explaining who I am in relation to you and what each of our tasks were. If you have forgotten that one, look up John 15: 1 - 8.
 
If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it:
 
1.   Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.
 
2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.
 
3. Instead of writing the President complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sent out this year, why don't you write and tell him that you'll be praying for him and his family this year. Then follow up... It will be nice hearing from you again.
 
4. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.
 
5 Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.
 
6. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take  his/her  own life this season because  he/she  feel s    so alone and hopeless?  Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile; it could make the difference.
 
7. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn't make so much money on that day they'd close and let their employees spend the day at home with their families
 
8. If you really want to make a difference, support a missionary-- especially one who takes My love and Good News to those who have never heard My name.
 
9. Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them, buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me and they will make the delivery for you.
 
10. Finally, if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine.
 
Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above and get to work; time is short. I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love and remember :

I LOVE YOU,
 
JESUS

AMEN!

[HisDaughter]

This is what Christmas is all about...

Better  bundle up - the goose bumps will freeze you!!  I think I need to read
this every year at Christmas.

Pa never  had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their
means and  then never had enough for the necessities.  But for those who were 
genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors.   It was  from him that
I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not  from receiving.   

It was  Christmas Eve 1881.  I was fifteen years old and feeling like the 
world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to  buy me
the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas.  We did the  chores early that night
for some reason.  I just figured Pa  wanted a little extra time so we could
read in the Bible.       

After  supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the 
fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible.  I was still  feeling
sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much  of a  mood to read
Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled  up again and went
outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already  done all the chores. I
didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy  wallowing in self-pity. 
Soon  Pa came back in.  It was a  cold clear night out and there was ice in his
beard. "Come on, Matt," he  said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I
was really upset then.  Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now
Pa was dragging me  out in the  cold, and for no earthly reason that I could
see.  We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything  else
that needed doing, especially not on a night like this.  But I  knew Pa was not
very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told  them to do something,
so I got up and put my boots  back on and  got my cap, coat, and mittens.  Ma
gave me a mysterious smile as I  opened the door to leave the house. 
Something was up, but I didn't  know what.. 

Outside,  I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the
work  team, already hitched to the big sled  Whatever it was we were going  to
do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job.   I could tell.  We never
hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load.  Pa was already up
on the seat, reins in hand.  I reluctantly  climbed up beside him.  The cold
was already biting at me.  I  wasn't happy.  When I was on, Pa pulled the sled 
around the  house and stopped in front of the woodshed.  He got off and I 
followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said.  "Here, help me."
 The high sideboards!  It had been a  bigger job than I wanted to do with
just the low sideboards on, but  whatever  it was we were going to do would be a
lot bigger with the  high side boards on. 

After  we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came
out  with an armload of wood - the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from 
the mountain, and then all Fall sawing into blocks  and splitting.  What was
he doing?  Finally I said something.  "Pa," I asked,  "what are you doing?" 
You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he  asked. The Widow Jensen lived about
two miles down the road.  Her  husband had died a year or so before and left
her with three children, the  oldest being eight.  Sure, I'd been by, but so
what?       

Yeah," I  said, "Why?" 

"I rode  by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the
 woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt."  That was
all he said and then he turned and went back into  the  woodshed for another
armload of wood. I followed him.  We loaded the  sled so high that I began to
wonder if the horses would be able to pull  it.  Finally, Pa called a halt to
our loading, then we went to the  smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a 
side of bacon. He  handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and
wait.  When  he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right
shoulder and a  smaller sack of something in his left hand. "What's in the little
sack?" I  asked.  Shoes, they're  out of shoes.  Little Jakey just  had gunny
sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile  this morning.  I
got the children a little candy too.  It just  wouldn't be Christmas without a
 little candy."

We rode  the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence.  I tried to 
think through what Pa was doing.  We didn't have much by worldly  standards. 
Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most  of what was left now was
still in the form of logs that I would have  to saw into blocks and split
before we could use it.  We also had  meat and f lour, so we could spare that, but
I knew we didn't have any  money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? 
Really,  why  was he doing any of this?  Widow Jensen had closer neighbors
than us;  it shouldn't have been our concern.

We  came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as 
quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the  door. 
We knocked.  The door opened a crack and a timid  voice said,  "Who is it?" 
"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my  son, Matt, could we come in for a bit?"     

Widow  Jensen opened the door and let us in.  She had a blanket wrapped 
around her shoulders.  The children were wrapped in another and were  sitting in
front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly  gave off any heat at
all.  Widow Jensen fumbled with a match  and finally lit the lamp. 
   

"We  brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of
flour.  I put the meat on the table.  Then Pa handed her the sack that  had the
shoes in it.  She opened it hesitantly and took the  shoes out one pair at a
time.  There was a pair for her and one  for each of the children - sturdy shoes,
the best, shoes that would last.  I watched her carefully.  She bit her lower
lip to keep it from  trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started 
running down  her cheeks.  She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say   
something,  but it wouldn't come out. 

"We  brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said.  He turned to me and  said,
"Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile.  Let's get that fire  up to size
and heat this place up."  I wasn't the same person when  I went back out to
bring in the wood.  I had a big lump in my  throat and as much as I hate to admit
it, there were tears in my eyes  too.  In my mind I kept seeing those three
kids huddled around the  fireplace and their mother standing there with tears
running  down  her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't
speak. 

cont...

[HisDaughter]

cont...

My  heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before, filled my 
soul.  I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it  had
made so much difference.  I could see we were literally  saving the lives of
these people. 

I  soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared.  The kids 
started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow  Jensen looked
on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face  for a long time.  She
finally turned to us. "God bless you,"  she said. "I know the Lord has sent
you.  The children and I have  been praying that he would send one of his angels
to spare us."   

In  spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up
in  my eyes again.  I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before,  but
after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it  was probably  true.  I was
sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the  earth.  I started
remembering all the times he had gone out of his  way for Ma and me, and many
others.  The list seemed endless as I  thought on it.     

Pa  insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left.  I was amazed 
when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get.  Then I
guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that  the Lord would make sure
he got the right sizes. 

Tears  were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave.
 Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug.  They clung to
him and didn't want us to go.  I could see that  they missed their Pa, and I
was glad that I still had mine.   

At the  door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to
invite you  and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow.  The turkey will 
be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can  get cantankerous  if he
has to eat turkey for too many meals.  We'll be by to get you  about eleven. 
It'll be nice to have some little ones around again.  Matt, here, hasn't been
little for quite a spell."  I was the  youngest.  My two brothers and two
sisters  had all married and  had moved away. 

Widow  Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles.  I don't have to 
say, May the Lord bless you, I know for certain that He will."   
Out on  the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even
 notice the cold.  When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said,  "Matt,
I want you to know something.  Your ma and me have  been  tucking a little
money away here and there all year so we could buy that  rifle for you, but we
didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who  owed me a little money from
years back came by to make things square.  Your ma and me were real excited, 
thinking that now we could  get you that rifle, and I started into town this
morning to do just  that, but on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in
the woodpile with  his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had
to do.  Son, I spent the money  for shoes and a little candy for those 
children. I hope you understand." 

I  understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again.  I understood  very
well, and I was so glad Pa had done it  Now the rifle seemed  very low on my
list of priorities.  Pa had given me a lot more.  He  had given me the look on
Widow Jensen's face and the  radiant smiles of her three children.

For  the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block
 of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt 
riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much  more than a  rifle that
night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.

[nChrist]

BEAUTIFUL! - Thank You!

[HisDaughter]

An Old Fashioned Christmas

The vapor drifted from the hot breath of the two work horses. The harness bells jingled, as their heads bobbed up and down smoothly. We floated along smooth ups and downs, in the undulating landscape, as they pulled the sleigh through the deep snow. Grandma, Grandpa, and I were neatly tucked in a nest of loose hay mounded around us. I was in between them, and well layered against the cold, but that did not stop the frosty air from nipping at my nose and cheeks.

We had finished the morning feeding of the cattle. A process that consisted of harnessing a team to a large tandem runner sleigh, with a hay rack on it. Next we would take the sleigh to one of the hay stacks on the ranch, and load it with loose stacked hay. Back in those days, we did not bail the hay, it was stacked loose, and was loaded using pitch forks. At 4 years old, I was too young to wield a pitch fork, but I could climb the stack and watch. My Grandpa would stab pitchforks into the side of the stack to use as ladder steps to the top, then he would carefully guide me up the makeshift ladder. I loved sitting up there, listening to him tell stories, and gently talking to the horses to keep them calm, and in place. After he was finished pitching a big load of hay onto the rack, we would slide off the stack, down into the fresh piled hay. Next came my favorite part of the feeding, I would get to hold the reins, and Grandpa would pitch the hay off, to the cattle in the field.

It was a rarity for Grandma to accompany Grandpa and I, but today was a special day. The sun was shining making the snow and frost on the trees glisten like a crystal forest. We were making our way along the wooded path to find something special, something that would mark this time of year indelibly in my mind forever. The hand saw and axe were a clue to the object of our quest. Have you guessed it? Yes, we were going to cut our Christmas tree.

Grandpa knew exactly which one to get, a well formed blue spruce that would fit in the corner of our log cabin. Grandpa pointed to the tree, about 60 yards deep into the thicket of trees. The snow was far too deep for Grandma and I, so we sat in the warm hay, as Grandpa made the hike to the tree. He cleared most of the snow from around the base, then trimmed off some of the lower limbs. These would later make a garland over the door. Next his sharp axe made quick work of chopping down the tree. Each swing freed more snow from the heavily laden branches, and covered Grandpa, with the light dry powder. Grandpa soon made his way back to the sleigh, with a huge grin, and a beautiful tree. He tossed the tree onto the back of the hay rack and climbed on.

When we got back to the cabin, we stood the tree in the corner, and it dripped snow, slush, and water onto the well worn wood plank floor. The smell of fresh pine, along with homemade bread, and hot chocolate filled the air. Christmas was just a few days away.

We didn’t decorate the tree, that was Santa’s job. The decorations were put out on Christmas eve, and when Santa came, he would put them all up. He sure was a busy guy, back then.

We had a Sears Catalog, and I had been allowed to pick one item for Santa to bring. I had scoured the toy section a hundred times, trying to decide on what I would request. A red crane truck, with an operating bucket, and wrecking ball was my final choice. After dictating a letter to Santa, I remember being worried that we would not be able to get through the heavy snow laden roads, and into town, so my letter to the North Pole could be mailed.

When Christmas morning came, Santa had indeed received my letter, and granted my request. I loved that crane, and I don’t think it was out of my site for the entire day.

During that time of their lives, my grandparents were poor. We lived at a level of poverty, that few ever get to experience. The land provided our living. A huge garden in the summer, filled a root cellar, for the winter. Beans, flour, coffee, sugar and a few other necessities were about all that they bought, the rest of our food, we raised or hunted. Grandma could prepare the most wonderful meals, from a couple of cottontail rabbits, homemade bread, homemade butter, and a few potatoes. Everything was prepared with an old wood burning oven.  Few people today, have had the immeasurable pleasure of smelling bread baking accompanied by the smell of burning pine, cottonwood, and aspen.

Back then, all I could think about was how much I enjoyed that single “store bought” gift, but today, I think about the love and sacrifice that my grandparents must have had, too give me such an extravagent gift.  We were poor, and my grandfather was at the beginning of a prolonged health battle, but we were happy. From my perspective, a mountain of gifts would have been forgotten long ago, but the simple joys of spending time together doing simple things will last forever.

Merry Christmas, may your family experience the joy of the season, and not get lost in the hustle, bustle, and modern expectations.

Shane McKenna

(Shane is a friend of mine on Facebook)

[HisDaughter]

 One day a man saw an old lady, stranded on the side of the road, but even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her.
 
 Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe; he looked poor and hungry
 
 He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill which only fears can put in you.
 
 He said, 'I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan Anderson.'
 
 Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt.
 
 As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid.
 
 Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk. The lady asked how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Bryan never thought twice about being paid.. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty, who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way
 
 He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and Bryan added, 'And think of me.'
 
 He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.
 
 A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan.
 
 After the lady finished her meal, she paid with a hundred dollar bill. The waitress quickly went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, but the old lady had slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. The waitress wondered where the lady could be. Then she noticed something written on the napkin.
 
 There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote: 'You don't owe me anything. I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not let this chain of love end with you.'
 
 Under the napkin were four more $100 bills.
 
 Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the
 Money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard....
 
 She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, 'Everything's going to be all right. I love you, Bryan Anderson'
 
 There is an old saying 'What goes around comes around.

[HisDaughter]

The true story of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer

A guy named Bob May, depressed and broken hearted, stared out his drafty apartment window into the chilling December night. His 4-year-old daughter, Barbara, sat on his lap quietly sobbing.  Bobs wife, Evelyn, was dying of cancer. Little Barbara couldn't understand why her mommy could never come home. Barbara looked up into her dad's eyes and asked, "Why isn't Mommy just like everybody else's Mommy?" Bob's jaw tightened and his eyes welled with tears. Her question brought waves of grief, but also of anger.

It had been the story of Bob's life. Life always had to be different for Bob. Being small when he was a kid, Bob was often bullied by other boys He was too little at the time to compete in sports. He was often called names he'd rather not remember. From childhood, Bob was different and never seemed to fit in. Bob did complete college, married his loving wife and was grateful to get his job as a copywriter at Montgomery Ward during the Great Depression. Then he was blessed with his little girl. But it was all short-lived.

 Evelyn's bout with cancer stripped them of all their savings and now Bob and his daughter were forced to live in a two-room apartment in the Chicago slums. Evelyn died just days before Christmas in 1938. Bob struggled to give hope to his child, for whom he couldn't even afford to buy a Christmas gift. But if he couldn't buy a gift, he was determined a make one - a storybook!

Bob had created an animal character in his own mind and told the animal's story to little Barbara to give her comfort and hope. Again and again Bob told the story, embellishing it more with each telling. Who was the character? What was the story all about?

The story Bob May created was his own autobiography in fable form. The character he created was a misfit outcast like he was. The name of the character? A little reindeer named Rudolph, with a big shiny nose.

 Bob finished the book just in time to give it to his little girl on Christmas Day. But the story doesn't end there. The general manager of Montgomery Ward caught wind of the little storybook and offered Bob May a nominal fee to purchase the rights to print the book. Wards went on to print Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and distribute it to children visiting Santa Claus in their stores. By 1946 Wards had printed and distributed more than six million copies of Rudolph.  That same year, a major publisher wanted to purchase the rights from Wards to print an updated version of the book. In an unprecedented gesture of kindness, the CEO of Wards returned all rights back to Bob May. The book became a best seller. Many toy and marketing deals followed and Bob May, now remarried with a growing family, became wealthy from the story he created to comfort his grieving daughter.

But the story doesn't end there either. Bob's brother-in-law, Johnny Marks, made a song adaptation to Rudolph. Though the song was turned down by such popular vocalists as Bing Crosby and Dinah Shore, it was recorded by the singing cowboy, Gene Autry. "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" was released in 1949 and became a phenomenal success, selling more records than any other Christmas song, with the exception of "White Christmas." The gift of love that Bob May created for his daughter so long ago kept on returning to bless him again and again. And Bob May learned the lesson, just like his dear friend Rudolph, that being different isn't so bad. In fact, being different can be a blessing!

[HisDaughter]

New Year's Resolutions....

•Just for today, I will not sit in my living room all day in my nightdress. Instead, I will move my computer into the bedroom.


•I will no longer waste my time relieving the past, instead I will spend it worrying about the future.


•I will not bore my boss by with the same excuse for taking leaves. I will think of some more excuses.


•I will do less laundry and use more deodorant.


•I will avoid taking a bath whenever possible and conserve more water.


•Assure my lawyer that I will never again show up drunk at a custody hearing.


•I will give up chocolates totally. 100%. Completely. Honestly....


•I will try to figure out why I *really* need nine e-mail addresses.


•I will stop sending e-mails to my wife (husband).


•I resolve to work with neglected children -- my own.


•I will stop sending e-mail, ICQ, Instant Messages and be on the phone at the same time with the same person.


•I will spend less than one hour a day on the Internet. This, of course, will be hard to estimate since I'm not a clock watcher.


•I will read the manual... just as soon as I can find it.


•I will think of a password other than "password."


•I will not tell the same story at every get together.