Hi there!

I hope everyone had a bountiful, blessed Thanksgiving Holiday and that you found new, innovative ways to use that last shred of turkey!  You know, quite frankly, I have never thought turkeys received the honor and dignity they deserve!  Especially those who were not granted a pardon.  How would we feel if we were only presented once or twice, maybe thrice, each year?  Bummer!  Turkeys definitely need to be “outed” and given a place at the table much more often and not just on their expected days of debut!

Speaking of turkeys, I loved the little blurb I read recently from a youngster who proclaimed: “I didn’t like the turkey, but I loved what he ate!”  Think on that one for a while.  I’m so glad that us girls raised in the South do side dish stuffing/dressing!  I do not stuff turkeys because I do not know how to adequately stuff a turkey or any other bird!  That technique was not among the things my  mother taught me.  Other than with apples, onions, oranges, that sort of non-creative thing, but I always admire and drool over the turkeys in the pictures which exude such obviously mouth-watering stuffing, baked to perfection!  Maybe I still have time to work on this art form!

So, it’s December and the city of Lancaster is all aglow with its Christmas decorations and it is truly looking like Christmas!  On Main Street there are also lovely red flags that flap in the wind and proudly say “Merry Christmas!”  Our home is also looking "Christmasy". Our very special friend, Stacy Story, who we claim as our adopted daughter (with her mother’s permission!) was thoughtful enough to help decorate our Christmas tree this year and the mantel, as well!  Both look stunning and definitely make a statement.  She knows how to light up a room in lots of ways!  It was fun having someone to share this fun time with!  Not to be excluded, Bill did his part, of course.  A year or so ago we invested in a pre-lit tree (I’m hooked!), so he carefully removed the tree from its resting place in the outside closet, tucked the branches in their rightful spots, plugged the extension cord into the outlet, and shesham!  (That might not be a real word, but you get the drift!)  Every little bulb burned as brightly as last year! Can’t be said that he did not have a part in this fun activity!  Yep, he had done his part, for which I am thankful!  To complete the festive day Stacy helped me wrap some gifts, so the poor tree doesn’t look so bare at its bottom! Thanks, Stacy!

December brings so many special moments!  For starters, Bill and I got in the real Christmas spirit the first week!  For four days we went to Samaritan’s Purse Operation Christmas Child center in Charlotte, along with several from our church.  There we worked with the shoeboxes!  Thousands and thousands of them!  Our jobs ranged from inspecting the contents of individual boxes, to removing contributions, to taping the boxes, to arranging them in large cartons according to boy/girl, age, etc., readying them for shipment to the various countries.  They will all go by freight liner trucks, by planes, by boats, and finally by carts, burros, and various other means of transport, ultimately reaching those children who are waiting for what might be their only gift!  I believe the center in Charlotte alone expected to ship 1.8 million boxes!  The deliveries are coordinated with missions organizations throughout the world.

December 3 was my birthday!  And, not only MY birthday, but it is also the birthday of my daughter-in-love, Merritt!  A quick thank-you to Art, who reinstated my Blog for another year as part of my birthday present!  So it's his fault that you are stuck with me for another year!

Then the Christmas cards started to arrive!  We so enjoy taking a moment to reflect on the wonderful friends who take the time to think of us.  The photos each year are always very special and bring about the “I can’t believe how they’ve grown!” exclamations!  To our delight, this year’s Christmas card from Beth and Tim Lee had pictures of Macy and Maryanna in the snow!  It seldom snows in Amite, Louisiana, but they had eight (8) inches recently!  Many cards are from friends that go way, way back, further than I’m willing – or able – to recall.  We so appreciate each of them.  The joy of remembering the special times that continue to bond us together is, well, impossible to explain, but most of you will know exactly what I mean.

Today – December 20 – brought a very unexpected but delightful telephone call!  Barbara Bearden was on the line!  Barbara is one of those rare people who come into our lives, leaves a permanent footprint, and we are never the same.  Barbara’s life has touched countless individuals over these many years and this blog could never contain a fraction of her accomplishments nor describe our gratitude for our friendship.  Her dear husband, Don, was our minister of music in Kentwood in the 1960s.  That’s when our friendship began.  Don was a student at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary when First Baptist Kentwood called him as our minister of music.  Soon thereafter, Don and Barbara (a Florida girl!) were married, and together they ministered to the hearts of folks everywhere and anywhere they saw a need.  Barbara was a registered nurse, and her sphere of influence certainly was not limited to this vocation.  Don earned his doctorate at Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge, and from Louisiana Don and Barbara moved to Mars Hill, NC, where Don was on staff at the college there; later on to Winston Salem where he once again was minister of music in a Baptist church there.  Don’s life was cut short in a tragic accident, a result of the actions of a drunken driver.  Few deaths have impacted our lives to the extent that Don’s has.  Barbara now lives in Savannah, Georgia, where she enjoys living in the historic district, walking to many of her favorite places, and volunteering her time, still ministering to those who are hurting physically and emotionally.  Thanks, Barbara, for getting in touch after so many years of our having lost contact with each other! What a wonderful Christmas gift! We are richer because of Don and Barbara Bearden.

By the way, if you are looking for a good, quick Christmas read, I recommend Glenn Beck’s, The Christmas Sweater.  I think you will like it.

I pray that you will have a blessed Christmas; that you will capture the true meaning of the Christ child who came to be our Savior!  On Christmas Eve, we will enjoy having Art and his family and we'll have some sadness, too, that we cannot also be with Andy and his family.  Maybe next year.

 In closing, the following well-known story is long, but is a good read and always warms my heart!  I hope it will warm yours, too:

The Man and the Birds

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

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


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

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

At that moment the church bells began to ring. The sound reached his ears above the sounds of the wind. And he stood there listening to the bells - Adeste Fidelis - listening to the bells pealing the glad tidings of Christmas. And he sank to his knees in the snow.  -- Author Unknown -- (Shared by Paul Harvey on his radio show)