Saturday, January 9, 2010
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Happy 2010 to ALL!!!
Happy New Year
Take 12 fine, full-grown months; see that these are thoroughly cleansed from all old memories of bitterness, hate, and jealousy.
Cut these months into 30 or 31 equal parts. (This batch will keep for one year. Do not attempt to make more than one batch at a time-many people spoil the entire lot in this way.)
Prepare one day at a time as follows:
Into each day, put 12 parts of faith,
11 parts of patience,
10 parts of courage,
9 parts of work
(some people omit this ingredient and spoil the flavor of the rest),
8 parts of hope,
7 parts of fidelity,
6 parts of open-mindedness,
5 parts of kindness,
4 parts of rest
( leaving this out is like leaving the oil out of the salad, "don't do it" ),
3 parts of prayer,
2 parts of meditation,
and 1 well-selected resolution.
If you have no conscientious scruples,
add a teaspoonful of good spirits,
a dash of fun,
a pinch of folly,
a sprinkling of play,
and a heaping cupful of good humor.
Pour love liberally into the whole,
and mix with strength.
Cook thoroughly in a warming heat.
Garnish with a few smiles and a sprig of joy;
then serve with quietness,
unselfishness,
and cheerfulness.
A Happy New Year is a certainty.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Friday, December 25, 2009
A Christmas Story!!
We would be blessed to follow the example of the family represented in the following story. There are so many in need at this time.
Dortha
A Christmas Story
It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas---oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it-overspending...the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma---the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly black.These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears.It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them."Mike loved kids-all kids-and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came.That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church.On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me.His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.For each Christmas, I followed the tradition---one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal it's contents.As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there.You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more. Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad.The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.May we all remember each other, and the Real reason for the season, and His true spirit this year and always. God bless---pass this along to your friends and loved ones.--- Copyright © 1982 Nancy W. Gavin--- Submitted by Edwin G. Whiting
The story first appeared in Woman's Day magazine in 1982. My mom had sent the story in as a contest entry in which she subsequently won first place. Unfortunately, she passed away from cancer two years after the story was published. Our family still keeps the tradition started by her and my father and we have passed it on to our children. Feel free to use the story. It gives me and my sisters great joy to know that it lives on and has hopefully inspired others to reach out in a way that truly honors the spirit of Christmas. --- Kevin Gavin
Dortha
A Christmas Story
It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas---oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it-overspending...the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma---the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly black.These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears.It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them."Mike loved kids-all kids-and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came.That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church.On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me.His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.For each Christmas, I followed the tradition---one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal it's contents.As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there.You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more. Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad.The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.May we all remember each other, and the Real reason for the season, and His true spirit this year and always. God bless---pass this along to your friends and loved ones.--- Copyright © 1982 Nancy W. Gavin--- Submitted by Edwin G. Whiting
The story first appeared in Woman's Day magazine in 1982. My mom had sent the story in as a contest entry in which she subsequently won first place. Unfortunately, she passed away from cancer two years after the story was published. Our family still keeps the tradition started by her and my father and we have passed it on to our children. Feel free to use the story. It gives me and my sisters great joy to know that it lives on and has hopefully inspired others to reach out in a way that truly honors the spirit of Christmas. --- Kevin Gavin
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Christmas Cheer
Christmas Day is coming soon
It won't be long 'til it's here.
People are busy shopping
And planning parties for New Year's.
Santa is sitting in the malls.
He's quite the merry, robust chap
And children of all ages clamor
To climb up in his lap.
People are shopping frantically
For just the perfect presents.
Full of joy their spirits soar;
You can feel the effervescence.
Tiny tots lay down their heads
And visions of candy canes abound.
Mom and Dad hang mistletoe
And sneak a kiss when no one's 'round!
People all over the world
Are praying for unity and peace;
Coming together in the Christmas Spirit
Brotherhood of mankind is what we need.
Christmas Day comes but once a year
It's a favorite time for one and all.
But let's not lose our focus
And forget the babe in a manger stall.
Let's remember whose birth we celebrate
When Christmas arrives this year.
Be sure and wish Jesus "Happy Birthday."
He's the reason for Christmas cheer!
Thursday, December 17, 2009
December Birthdays!!
************
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE IN DECEMBER!!!
Merry Christmas to all!!!
Dortha
Monday, December 14, 2009
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