One More for the Season

I love you, Matt!

Merry Christmas! (And travel-log)

Merry Christmas! We certainly got a white one this year!

I didn't get all the stories posted, but I don't think anyone really cared. Christmas arrangements, temple arrangements, and travel logistics just took over my time. This week didn't work out exactly the way we had planned, but it has been good. Christmas is getting more focus than it started out having. I was preoccupied with our plans to go to the Columbia River temple the weekend AFTER Christmas and getting my mom ready for her first trip to the temple. With dementia, that can be daunting. (And I am talking about her AND mine!!) I was loosing focus.

As the weather worsened and forecasts looked like more of the same - or worse; gathering our family together from three states grew less and less possible, safely. I picked the date originally because it would be a time when I would have part of my family there already. I was trying to avoid creating another trip out for those in Utah. Trying to save traveling expenses when they already have education expenses. They have been so wonderful in trying to visit so often before my son-in-law starts medical school.

The final straw came when their pre-planned trip (since July) became impossible. Portland airport has had great difficulty this year. When NASA says you have snow problem you really have a snow problem. Check out this satellite photo. Oregon became the recipient of our worse snow-bearing storm in 40 years. PDX started shutting down Friday, resulting in cancelled flights. Sunday they closed entirely. Monday, our kids' flight from Salt Lake was one of the casualty's.

The only reasonable thing to do was to re-schedule for sealing for a more realistic (and less stressful) time. Which we did. And I was peaceful about doing. My Redhot was very emotional about the cancellation and I understood that. I was actually surprised how calm and peaceful I felt as I made all the calls and cancellations necessary.

Tuesday we started packing to still make the trip to Vancouver. Opening my closet door and seeing my new temple dress and new "after sealing dress," brought an unexpected reaction. I had a "melt-down." I forgot how my system deals with stress. I an great in an emergency - a REAL emergency. I just switch into this "let's handle current situations" mode and take care of essentials without much problem. LATER - I fall apart. I just forgot, or didn't really consider that there might be more going on than I realized. I didn't see it coming. And it wasn't pretty. (Poor Tom. I thank the Lord every day for him. How he keeps from taking me out when I have mood swings and ADHD moments is beyond me. )

I finally realized what I was feeling. How important this trip was to us. We have been working towards being sealed for about six years. We had made two trips on icy roads into Portland in the weeks before Christmas, to get his temple clothing. Due to the traveling conditions, those were major events. We made a nail-biting drive into Philomath the Sunday before Christmas so that all three of us could get our temple recommends signed by the Stake president. We had done everything we needed to. And we weren't going to be able to go. I had gotten an answer to my prayers concerning the trip. My answer (and I DID make note of the lack of detail I received) was "Everything will be fine." I WAS peaceful. I knew things were in His hands. We just weren't going on December 27th. Once I realized how disappointed I was and was able to grieve a little, things were fine.

We drove up to Vancouver Tuesday. as we had planned. The weather and roads weren't what had planned. Quite an adventure once we reached Salem/Wilsonville area. It had been the hardest hit. It took us two hours to travel 20 miles. I called Jared at one point (we had promised updates, but time was going faster than distance covered). He laughed at how little change there was in our progress and asked if we were walking. I told him no - if I were walking, I would be making better time. We were literally traveling 3-4 miles per hour - which is certainly better than just sitting there. It wasn't parking lot conditions, for which I WAS grateful.

Here you see the several thousand in front of us.

Some places the ice on the road was three to four inches think. It was like driving on a glacier...including the melting-runoff creeks cut into the carpet of ice. Not only was it like "four-wheeling" in regard to the bumps and snow-chain created potholes, we had to ford frozen stream beds. The worst conditions were driven in the dark, of course. But as the sunset, I took a shot of the several thousand behind us, as well. I wish I could have counted HOW many semi-trucks were on the road between Salem and Vancouver. I've never seen so many!

Traveling was pretty sporty. I learned some new driving skills. IF you are traveling a few cars behind a semi-truck on an icy road, and you see that truck slow down, and then start swaying back and forth and up and down - SLOW down. It has reached a really think, rough patch of ice. And it's chains aren't cutting into the icy. And it's going to be at LEAST that bad for you when you get to where he is. I also learned that traveling very slowly for a LONG time makes people crazy. At one point, I found myself traveling in FOUR lanes of traffic - on a highway that only had THREE lanes. Folks just created their OWN lanes, using the right and left shoulders. And I'm not talking about the occasional ya-who who tries to pass you on the right or the left shoulder. This was four lanes of traffic, including semi's who just decided the original construction plan wasn't working out and decided to improvise. SCARY!

All this is so I will remember. I've mentioned before that I'm trying this as a journal substitute. I don't think we will forget Christmas, 2008 anytime soon. Those of us familiar with Oregon and it's heavy snow storms know what comes next. Snow doesn't last all winter here. It will warm up and it will melt. The coastal rivers will flood.

I wouldn't plan on visiting Tillamook in the next few weeks.

Christmas Tag

Welcome to the Christmas edition of getting to know your friends.

Okay, here's what you're supposed to do, & try not to be a SCROOGE! Copy this entire post & paste onto your own new post! Change all the answers so they apply to you. Then tag a bunch of people you know....Tis the Season to be NICE!



1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? I like wrapping paper . I have made my own.

2. Real tree or Artificial? Real - love the smell! Hate the mess...

3. When do you put up the tree? We haven't had a tree for two or three years - hmmm...

4. When do you take the tree down? Well, since we haven't put one up...

5. Do you like Egg Nog? Love homemade, not store bought.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? Probably my Tiny Tears doll, or the green rocking chair I kept until I was almost 50.

7. Hardest person to buy for? My mom. Definitely my mom.

8. Easiest person to buy for? The grand kids - and the most fun

9. Do you have a nativity scene? Several - I LOVE nativity sets! Sent little ones to my big grand kids this year.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards? You are supposed to send Christmas cards?

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Doesn't apply - never had a bad one.

12. Favorite Christmas Movie? "It's a wonderful life" w/Jimmy Stewart. And "A Christmas Carol" with George C. Scott

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? I believe in Christmas all year long. I give when there is a need. I don't wait for December.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? I don't think so.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Cookies - absolutely. Sugar, snicker doodles, Mexican wedding cookies

16. Lights on the tree? The more the better - multi-colored

17. Favorite Christmas song? "O Holy Night"

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? I like both. Probably traveling better than staying home.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? Nope! Won;t even try.

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Star


21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Open Christmas morning.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? The idea that you have to buy buy buy to make everyone happy on Christmas and I hate that Jesus has been mostly forgotten and Santa Claus has taken over and the fact that most Christmas cards don't say Christmas....I could go on and on.

23. Favorite ornament theme or color? I don't really go for the colors themes. I like tree like we had when the kids were little, an eclectic blend of homemade, Hallmark, and holiday emblems.

24. Favorite Christmas dinner? One that is spent with family, love & laughter. The food doesn't matter.

25. What do you want for Christmas this year? Time with my family.

Day Nine - Funny, Funny Mother!

See Mother.
See Mother laugh.
Mother is happy.
Mother is happy about Christmas.
Mother has many plans.
Mother has many plans for Christmas.
Mother is organized.
Mother smiles all the time.
Funny, funny Mother!



See Mother.
See Mother smile.
Mother is happy.
The shopping is all done.
See the children watch TV.
Watch children, watch.
See the children change their minds.
See them ask Santa for different toys.
Look! Look!
Mother is not smiling.
Funny, funny Mother!



See Mother.
See Mother sew.
Mother will make dresses.
Mother will make robes.
Mother will make shirts.
See Mother put the zipper in wrong.
See Mother sew the dress on the wrong side.
See Mother cut the skirt too short.
See Mother put the materials away until January.
Look! Look!
See Mother take a tranquilizer.
Funny, funny Mother!

See Mother.
See Mother buy raisins and nuts.
See Mother buy candied pineapple
and powdered sugar.
See Mother buy flour, dates, pecans,
brown sugar, bananas and spices.
Look! Look!


Mother is mixing everything together.
See the children press out cookies.
See the flour on their elbows.
See the cookies burn.
See the cake fall.
See the children pull taffy.
See Mother pull her hair.
See Mother clean the kitchen
with the garden hose.
Funny, funny Mother!

See Mother.
See Mother wrap presents.
See Mother look for the end
On the Scotch tape roll.
See Mother bite her fingernails.
See Mother go.
See Mother go to the store ten times in one hour.
Go Mother, go.
See Mother go faster.
Run, Mother, run!

See Mother trim the tree.
See Mother have a party.
See Mother make popcorn.
See Mother wash the walls.
See Mother scrub the rug.
See Mother tear up organized plan.
See Mother forget gift for Uncle Harold.
See Mother get hives.
Go, Mother, go!
See the faraway look in Mother's eyes.
Mother has become disorganized.
Mother has become disoriented.
Funny, funny Mother!

It is finally Christmas morning.
See the happy family.
See Father smile.
Father is happy.
Smile, Father, smile.
Father loves fruitcake.
Father loves Christmas pudding.
Father loves all his new neckties.
Look! Look!
See the happy children.
See the children's new toys.
Santa was very good to the children.
The children will remember this Christmas.

See Mother.
Mother is slumped in a chair.
Mother is crying uncontrollably.
Mother does not look well.
Mother has ugly dark circles under her bloodshot eyes.
Everyone helps Mother to her bed.
See Mother sleep quietly under heavy sedation.
See Mother smile.
Funny, funny Mother!

Day Eight - The Red Envelope

This is my favorite Christmas story of all time. It is too long to post. No one will take the time to read it. I have read it to my kids. One year when I was asked what I wanted for Christmas, I told them I wanted them to find someone for whom they could do something that year. The gift I wanted was a red envelope from each of them telling me of their experience.

As I mentioned when I started posting about Christmas, I don't like the commercial Christmas. I don't need much that I haven't gotten already. There are so many in the world who have so incredibly less - and are more humble and grateful than we. I wanted my kids to learn that the joy of Christmas is service and letting someone who feels alone know that they aren't. I think they have.

One year I told them that all I wanted was a letter in which they wrote about their testimony of the gospel. I still have those letters. I may have to do that again. They have grown. And so have their testimonies.

This year I DID give Chrissy a list of some material items. But I also told her that all we REALLY want this year is to have all of them at the temple with us. Doing that will be difficult, I know, since it so far away and the weather is always iffy. That is what I will treasure. It's been such a long time coming. That would be a Christmas present that would last for eternity! So far, it looks like I will have them there - God willing and weather holding. It has been YEARS since we have ALL been together at one time and place. That is Christmas to me.

Day Seven - The White Box

The White Box

One December we gathered our family together for a family meeting. We asked our 11-year-old how it would be if on his birthday the family members gave presents to everyone but him. He didn’t like that idea at all. We went on to ask if there was a holiday when we gave gifts to others but not to the person whose birthday we were celebrating. It didn’t take the children long to realize we were talking about Christmas. That year, however, we wanted to make Christmas more meaningful by giving gifts to the Savior, whose birthday we were celebrating.

Three-year-old Laralyn headed to her room and returned carrying her favorite doll. “Daddy, could I give my dolly to Jesus?” she asked. We explained that the Savior knew of her willingness to give her most prized possession and that he would want her to take care of the dolly for him. She was delighted and said, “I love giving gifts to Jesus!”

By now our older children had become more reflective. What could they give to the Savior? We discussed what he would want. We talked about how he had paid for our sins and wanted us to give them up. We talked about how he would want us to give of ourselves through service and sharing our talents. Gifts could also include being more obedient in such areas as journal writing, scripture reading, and keeping the commandments.

We put a little white box on the fireplace mantle and asked our family members to write their gifts on slips of paper and place the slips in the box. Then we explained that on Christmas morning, before all of the gifts were opened, we would have family prayer and then share with each other the gifts we were giving to the Savior for the coming year.

As the years have come and gone, the tradition of the white box has helped our family focus on the real meaning of Christmas and on our love and gratitude for the Savior.

(Ensign, December 1997, pages 58-59)

From the Oregon deep-freeze...

Can you guess what this is?

A close-up of the crystals on my car's window this morning! I've seen frost before, but never seen anything as pretty as this. Here's a bigger shot: (Please note that the interior of my car is CLEAN!! Matt would be proud...)

The temperature never got above freezing today on our trip to Portland. The average was 23 degrees. Beautifully clear - just flippin' cold! We drove through Lincoln City and then through the Van Duzer Corridor. It is a 12-mile stretch of old-growth timber maintained as a state forest. It is a beautiful drive in any season, but our favorites are fall and winter. Here's evidence of why.



I love having the evergreens "flocked" naturally. It feels so much more like Christmas this year. Last year I was opening presents Christmas morning, still waiting to feel that rush of Christmas-y excitement. It never came. I'm glad this year is different.



Pray the weather is good enough for us to get into Philomath to meet with the Stake President Sunday. He still has to sign our recommends. Even with good weather today, the three-hour drive to the temple took almost four and a half hours! The roads were so icy we could only travel about 30-35 miles an hour. Keep us in your prayers - if you read this.

Day Six - The Legend of the Christmas Spider

The Legend of the Christmas Spider

Once upon a time, long ago, a gentle mother was busily cleaning the house for the most wonderful day of the year... the day on which the Christ Child came to bless the house. Not a speck of dust was left. Even the spiders had been banished from their cozy corner in the ceiling to avoid the housewife’s cleaning. They finally fled to the farthest corner of the attic.

‘Twas the Christmas Eve at last! The tree was decorated and waiting for the children to see it. But the poor spiders were frantic, for they could not see the tree nor be present for the Christ Child’s visit. But the oldest and wisest spider suggested that perhaps they could peep through the crack in the door to see Him. Silently, they crept out of their attic, down the stairs, and across the floor to wait in the crack in the threshold. Suddenly, the door opened a wee bit and quickly the spiders scurried into the room. They must see the tree closely, since their eyes weren’t accustomed to the brightness of the room... so they crept all over the tree, up and down, over every branch and twig and saw every one of the pretty things. At last they satisfied themselves completely of the Christmas Tree’s beauty.

But Alas! Everywhere they went they had left their webs, and when the little Christ Child came to bless the house, he was dismayed. He loved the little spiders, for they were God’s creatures, too. But He knew the mother, who had trimmed the tree for the little children, wouldn’t feel the same, so he touched the webs and they all turned to sparkling, shimmering SILVER and GOLD.

Ever since that time, we have hung tinsel on our Christmas trees; and according to the legend, it has become a custom to include a spider among the decorations on the tree.

*This legend is found in both Germany and the Ukraine.

Day Five: Two Babes in a Manger

Two Babes in a Manger

In 1994, two Americans answered an invitation from the Russian Department of Education to teach morals and ethics (based on biblical principles) in the public schools. They were invited to teach at prisons, businesses, the fire and police departments and a large orphanage. About 100 boys and girls who had been abandoned, abused, and left in the care of a government-run program were in the orphanage. They relate the following story in their own words:

It was nearing the holiday season, 1994, time for our orphans to hear, for the first time, the traditional story of Christmas. We told them about Mary and Joseph arriving in Bethlehem. Finding no room in the inn, the couple went to a stable, where the baby Jesus was born and placed in a manger.
Throughout the story, the children and orphanage staff sat in amazement as they listened. Some sat on the edges of their stools, trying to grasp every word. Completing the story, we gave the children three small pieces of cardboard to make a crude manger. Each child was given a small paper square, cut from yellow napkins I had brought with me. No colored paper was available in the city.
Following instructions, the children tore the paper and carefully laid strips in the manger for straw. Small squares of flannel, cut from a worn-out nightgown an American lady was throwing away as she left Russia, were used for the baby's blanket. A doll-like baby was cut from tan felt we had brought from the United States. The orphans were busy assembling their manger as I walked among them to see if they needed any help.
All went well until I got to one table where little Misha sat. He looked to be about 6 years old and had finished his project. As I looked at the little boy's manger, was startled to see not one, but two babies in the manger. Quickly, I called for the translator to ask the lad why there were two babies in the manger. Crossing his arms in front of him and looking at this completed manger scene, the child began to repeat the story very seriously. For such a young boy, who had only heard the Christmas story once, he related the happenings accurately-until he came to the part where Mary put the baby Jesus in the manger. Then Misha started to ad-lib.
He made up his own ending to the story as he said, "And when Maria laid the baby in the manger, Jesus looked at me and asked me if I had a place to stay. I told him I have no mamma and I have no papa, so I don't have any place to stay. Then Jesus told me I could stay with him. But I told him I couldn't, because I didn't have a gift to give him like everybody else did. But I wanted to stay with Jesus so much, so I thought about what I had that maybe I could use for a gift. I thought maybe if I kept him warm, that would be a good gift. So I asked Jesus, "If I keep you warm, will that be a good enough gift?" And Jesus told me, "If you keep me warm, that will be the best gift anybody ever gave me." "So I got into the manger, and then Jesus looked at me and he told me I could stay with him---for always."
As little Misha finished his story, his eyes brimmed full of tears that splashed down his little cheeks. Putting his hand over his face, his head dropped to the table and his shoulders shook as he sobbed and sobbed. The little orphan had found someone who would never abandon nor abuse him, someone who would stay with him - FOR ALWAYS. I've learned that it's not what you have in your life, but who you have in your life that counts.

Sometimes You Never Know

This month has been full of "different" things. We're getting ready for Christmas. We are preparing to be sealed. We want to have a family "celebration" after that - in a town where we don't live and where we have no family to help set things up. (although, that has actually gone pretty well...) We are dealing with getting Mom ready to go to the temple, as well. I don't know if that is going to be a actual thing that will happen or not. (That is part of the stress.) I am leaving my job to stay home and be a full-time care-giver. (Don't know how that will work out, either...) Things are just kind of stacking up in the corner. I watch the pile grown and chew my lip. My neck starts tightening. My brain is going a million miles a minute. I am tired during the day but unable to sleep at night.

And I wonder - Where is all this coming from? WE ARE GOING TO THE TEMPLE. WE ARE GOING TO BE A FOREVER FAMILY!" Where is all this adversity and distracting stress coming from?? Give me a break! What was I thinking?? I KNOW where it's coming from - and he's not going to steal my joy.

AND in the midst of all this - there comes a single, shining piece of light... my step-son has decided to take the missionary discussions again! He's starting to take steps to change his life.

After teaching the Book of Mormon this year - and especially the last two months - these news was something that really touched me. It reminds me what is really important. It is the worth of us to Heavenly Father. Maybe that seems a little backwards. Shouldn't we be thinking of how much HE means to us - or how much He should? Yes. That's true.

But with my background, of pride and a rebellious spirit, I think more of how much HE cares for us. How many chances we get. How close He is to the wayward soul. How patient He is with the rebel. How endlessly he tries to help us in personal ways to overcome our pride. How He honors our agency, even when it takes down the vilest of paths. Nothing can separate us from His love, except our OWN choice to do so.

And when one repents and returns - all heaven rejoices. We can do no less.

Day Four - Trouble at the Inn

Trouble at the Inn

For years now whenever Christmas pageants are talked about in a certain town in the Midwest, someone is sure to mention the name of Wallace Purling. Wally’s performance in one annual production of the Nativity play has slipped into the realm of a legend. But the old timers who were in the audience that night never tire of recalling exactly what happened.

Wally was nine that year and in the second grade, though he should have been in fourth. Most people in town knew that he had difficulty keeping up. He was big and clumsy, slow in movement and mind. Still, Wally was well liked by the other children in his class, all of whom were smaller than he. Though the boys had trouble hiding their irritation when Wally would ask to play with them in a game in which winning was important.

Most often they would find a way to keep him out, but Wally would hang around anyway- not sulking, just hoping. He was always a helpful boy, a willing and smiling one, and the natural protector, paradoxically, of the underdog. Sometimes if the older boys chased the younger ones away, it would always be Wally who would say, “Can’t they stay? They’re no bother.”

Wally fancied the idea of being a shepherd with a flute in the Christmas Pageant that year, but the play’s director, Miss Lambard, assigned him to a more important role. After all, she reasoned, the Innkeeper did not have too many lines, and Wally’s size would make his refusal of lodging to Joseph more forceful.

And so it happened that the usual large, partisan audience gathered for the town’s yearly extravaganza of crooks and creches, of beards, crowns, halos and a whole stage full of squeaky voices. No one on stage or off was more caught up in the magic of the night than Wallace Purling. They said later that he stood in the wings and watched the performance with such fascination that from time to time Miss Lambard had to make sure he did not wander on stage before his cue.

Then came the time when Joseph appeared, slowly, tenderly guiding Mary to the door of the Inn. Joseph knocked hard on the wooden door set into the painted backdrop. Wally the Innkeeper was there waiting.

“What do you want?” Wally said, swinging the door open with a brusk gesture.

“We seek lodging.”

“Seek it elsewhere.” Wally looked straight ahead, but spoke vigorously. “The Inn is filled.”

“Sir, we have asked everywhere in vain. We have traveled far and are very weary.”

“There is no room in this Inn for you.” Wally looked properly stern.

“Please, good innkeeper, this is my wife, Mary. She is heavy with child and needs a place to rest. Surely you must have some small corner for her. She is so tired.”

Now for the first time, the Innkeeper relaxed his stiff stance and looked down at Mary. With that, there was a long pause. Long enough to make the audience a bit tense with embarrassment.

“No! Be gone!” the prompter whispered form the wings.

“No!” Wally repeated automatically. “Be gone!”

Joseph sadly placed his arm around Mary and Mary laid her head upon her husband’s shoulder and the two of them started to move away. The Innkeeper did not return inside the Inn, however. Wally stood there in the doorway watching the forlorn couple. His mouth was open, his brow creased with concern. His eyes filling unmistakably with tears. And suddenly this Christmas pageant became different from all the others.

“Don’t go Joseph,” Wally cried out. “Bring Mary back.” And Wallace Purling’s face grew into a bright smile. “You can have my room!”

Some people in the town thought the pageant had been ruined. Yet there were others, many others, who considered it the most Christmas of all Christmas pageants they had ever seen.

Snow on the Beach

Somehow it just seems wrong....



Very pretty this morning, but glad I didn't have to drive to work.

Day Three - Christmas Warmth

Christmas Warmth
By Pat Sullivan

My husband, Chuck, and my sister, Lee, are partners in a heating company in Chicago. Lee is the hirer, phone answerer, typist, bookkeeper, and office girl. She will bring hot soup and sandwiches to a crew in an icy basement at three o'clock in the morning, but she is hard-hearted Hanna when it comes to spending company money.

One day about a week before Christmas, all the phones in the office seemed to start ringing at once. There were more broken boilers, burned out fire pots and stuck stack switches than there had ever been before, and the men were working around the clock. I went to help out on the phones, and it was all I could do just to write down the names and addresses of the people without heat.

One woman called in tears. She lived in a very low-income section of Chicago. She had been phoning for several hours, one heating company after another, trying in vain to get a serviceman to fix their broken heater. I took the order and promised that a man would be there within the hour. Then she asked if she could pay a little money each week for the service call, and I looked at Lee and repeated the question. She nodded, and when I told the customer, Mrs. Jenkins, not to worry, she said, “God bless you Miss.”

Lee turned the call over to Chuck, as all of the other men were out. “Bump that other call I gave you; they only have a noisy burner. This is no heat. Better get right on it.”

Chuck left and was gone for several hours. When he came back he told Lee, “Forget
the billing on that one.”

She looked at him. “Since when are we in the charity business?”

Then Chuck told her that Mrs. Jenkins was a widow with seven little children. Her house was clean and bare with very few furnishings. The children were thin and hungry-eyed, wearing patched clothes.

After Chuck had got the heat going, one of the smaller boys had shyly come over to watch him pick up his tools, and Chuck patted him on the head and asked, “What did you tell Santa Claus you wanted for Christmas?” The child looked him right in the eye and answered, “No more Santa Claus, Mama says. No use to ask him for any toys, cause he's dead.”

Lee never said a word, but brusquely handed Chuck another call. We worked, all three of us, most of the night.

The next morning Lee called in to tell us she hadn't heard her alarm and would be late. Chuck seemed strangely happy to hear this and asked one of the men to watch the phones for a while, then hustled me into my coat.

“Can't spend a dime with that woman looking over my shoulder,” he grumbled.

When we pulled up in front of a large toy store, I knew what he was up to. He hummed and whistled while he loaded the shopping cart with dolls, games, trucks, and space ships. Then we headed to the candy store for filled stockings and striped peppermint canes. We drove through thick snowflakes, all the way to the west side, unloaded the piles of presents and rang Mrs. Jenkins doorbell.

In we trotted, behind the whooping children, to find a red-cheeked Lee pinning a Christmas Star of Bethlehem on the top of a fragrant pine tree. Nearby was Mrs. Jenkins, smiling through her tears, as she carefully unpacked a Nativity scene and reverently placed the figures of the holy family on her dining room table.

“Well, don't just stand there, get busy!” Lee said, tossing a box of tinsel to my open-mouthed husband. “What took you so long?”

Day Two - The Christmas Scout

Favorite Stories: The Christmas Scout
by Sam Bogan

In spite of the fun and laughter, 13 yr. old Frank Wilson was not happy. It was true, he had received all the presents he wanted, and he enjoyed the traditional Christmas Eve reunions with relatives for the purpose of exchanging gifts and good wishes..........but Frank was not happy because this was his first Christmas without his brother, Steve, who during the year, had been killed by a reckless driver. Frank missed his brother and the close companionship they had together.

He said good-bye to this relatives, and explained to his parents that he was leaving a little early to see a friend, and from there he could walk home. Since it was cold outside, Frank put on his new plaid jacket. It was his FAVORITE gift. He placed the other presents on his new sled, then headed out, hoping to find the patrol leader of his Boy Scout troop. Frank always felt understood by him.

Tho' rich in wisdom, his leader lived in the Flats, the section of town where most of the poor lived. His patrol leader did odd jobs to help support his family. To Frank's disappointment, his friend was not home.

As Frank hiked down the street toward home, he caught glimpses of trees and decorations in many of the small houses. Then, thru one front window, he glimpsed a shabby room with limp stockings hanging over an empty fireplace. A woman was seated nearby....weeping.

The stockings reminded him of the way he and his brother had always hung theirs side by side. The next morning, they would be bursting with presents. A sudden tho't struck Frank--he had not done his "good deed" for the day. Before the impulse passed, he knocked on the door. "Yes?" the sad voice of a woman asked. Seeing his sled full of gifts, and assuming he was making a collection, she said, "I have no food or gifts for you. I have nothing for my own children."

"That's not why I am here, " Frank replied. "Please choose whatever presents you would like for your children from the sled."

"Why, God bless you!" the amazed woman answered gratefully. She selected some candies, a game, a toy airplane and a puzzle. When she took the Scout flashlight, Frank almost protested. Finally, the stockings were full.

"Won't you tell me your name?" she asked, as Frank was leaving.

"Just call me the Christmas Scout," he replied.

The visit left Frank touched, and with an unexpected flicker of joy in his heart. He understood that his sorrow wasn't the only sorrow in the world.

Before he left the Flats, he had given away the rest of his gifts. His plaid jacket had gone to a shivering boy. Now, Frank trudged toward home, cold and uneasy. How could he explain to his parents that he had given his presents away?

"Where are your presents, son? asked his father as Frank entered the house. "I gave them away," he answered in a small voice.

"The airplane from Aunt Susan? Your new coat from Grandma? Your flashlight?? We tho't you were happy with your gifts."

"I was......very happy," Frank said quietly.

"But, Frank, how could you be so impulsive?" his mother asked. "How will we explain to the relatives who spent so much time and gave so much love shopping for you?"

His father was firm. "You made your choice, Frank. We cannot afford any more presents."

With his brother gone, and his family disappointed in him, Frank suddenly felt dreadfully alone. He had not expected a reward for his generosity, for he knew that a good deed always should be its own reward. It would be tarnished otherwise. So he did not want his gifts back. However, he wondered if he would ever again recapture joy in his life. He tho't he had this evening....but it had been fleeting. He thought of his brother.....and sobbed himself to sleep.

The next morning, he came downstairs to find his parents listening to Christmas music on the radio. Then the announcer spoke:

"Merry Christmas, everyone! The nicest Christmas story we have this morning comes from the Flats. A crippled boy down there has a new sled this morning left at his house by an anonymous teenage boy. Another youngster has a fine plaid jacket, and several families report that their children were made happy last night by gifts from a teenage lad who simply called himself the 'Christmas Scout'. No one could identify him, but the children of the Flats claim that the Christmas Scout was a personal representative of old Santa Claus himself.

Frank felt his father's arms go around his shoulders, and he saw his mother smiling thru her tears.

"Why didn't you tell us, son? We didn't understand. We are so proud of you."

The carols came over the air again, filling the room with music--"Praises sing to God the King, and peace on Earth goodwill to men."

Deuteronomy 15:7-8 tells us: "If there are poor among you in one of the towns of the land the Lord your God is giving you, do not be selfish or greedy toward them. But give freely to them, and freely lend them whatever they need."

Twelve Days of Christmas - Day One

When we were living in Victorville, our family was treated one year to something called "The Twelve Days of Christmas." For twelve days leading up to Christmas, we received an anonymous gift every evening. Each gift had a small note, verse or story that reinforced the TRUE meaning of Christmas. On the twelfth night, our "elves" revealed themselves.

It was a great treat for my kids and I. It became one of our favorite Christmas traditions. We had fun finding what we would leave and how we could tie it to the Savior. We had fun taking turns doing the "ding-dong-ditch" drop of the present and trying to get away from the front door being unnoticed. If there were no hiding places, we camouflaged the "dropper" so he/she would not be recognized.

One time the family we picked lived on a cul-de-sac. There was no way to hide the car or be unseen as we retreated. So, we parked a distance away and had one of my skinny little kids don a bulky knit cap and puffy big down jacket. Running away, they looked as big as a teenager! We totally fooled them that year! It was SO fun!

As a result of this tradition, I have a collection of stories and verses. I can tie almost ANY object to a gospel principle. I have decided that since there are twelve days left until Christmas, I want to share twelve of my favorites.

Here we go:

Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family. The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion's guest room. Instead the angels were given a space in the cold basement. As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it. When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied, "Things aren't always what they seem."

The next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife. After sharing what little food they had, the couple let the angels sleep in their bed, where they could have a good night's rest. When the sun came up the next morning the angels found the farmer and his wife in tears. Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole income, laid dead in the field.

The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel, "How could you have let this happen? The first man had everything, yet you helped him," he accused. "The second family had little but was willing to share everything and you let their cow die."

"Things aren't always what they seem," the older angel replied. "When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn't find it. Then last night as we slept in the farmer's bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I told him to take the cow instead. Things aren't always what they seem."

Sometimes this is exactly what happens when things don't turn out the way we think they should. If you have faith in God, just trust that every outcome is always to your advantage.

"And we know that in all things God is working for the good of those who love Him" Romans 8:28.

True Christmas Spirit

The material, commercial Christmas is not something I enjoy.

I have been remembering some of the Christmases of our past. The most warming memories come from times when we had little money. Times when we had to give of ourselves rather than from our pocket book. I know this Christmas will be hard for a lot of people, but if my family's experience is any indicator, it could be one of the most memorable.

The Christmas the kids mention the most is one in Yreka, when I was on welfare as a single mom of four. Our family had been through a huge trama and truly were "the walking wounded." I had no money to get anything special for them for Christmas. But though the generousity of others (especially my then-boyfriend, Tom), they did have Santa gifts. I put together a scrapbook for each of them that year. I took my collection of family pictures and sorted them out into a chronological order. I made sure each child had some pictures from each year of their live.

I had written a letter to each child at the point that I had learned I was pregnant. It welcomed them and let them know my feelings about their addition to our family. I tried to keep a diary of the pregnancy, but that didn't always happen. But they each had something to let them know that I had been looking forward to them being a part of my life. I included that into the scrapbook.

That was my gift to my kids that year. It turned out better than I ever thought it would. I just wanted to have SOME thing to give them.

That was also the year that they remember because there was a homeless man living in that small town. Their family had been shattered. They had lost their home, their car, their dad, their friends. They had lost aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents. They had lost security, and trust, and dreams of their future. But here was someone who had less then them. And they reached out to him. They felt whole enough to want to give and share. They had compassion for HIS needs.

It was a wonderful lesson to me. I had cried before the holiday because I felt so poor. I remember telling Samara that I thought I would have to cancel Christmas. And this little fourth grade girl, 10 years old, told me, "You can't cancel Christmas. Christmas isn't about presents. It's Jesus birthday. You can't cancel that." Out of the mouths of babes. Maybe it was the first REAL Christmas I ever had.

We got games and toys from my parents and Tom. We played together that whole Christmas school vacation time. Their first day back to school, I cried after they left. I felt rich in their presence. The apartment without them seems bleak and void. Such was the love they bought into my life. And still do.

What were the gifts of that Christmas? It was the time we spent together. It was the communication we shared. It was the feelings we let out and acknowledged. It was the knowledge that the 25th of December celebrated the birth of the Savior of the world. It was learning that we had much to give - to others and to each other. It was learning that that we DID have each other. It's about what we have been given eternally.

Another Week, Another Day Out

We have been taking one day a week to just get out and spend time together. We do errands and whatever and throw a little "date" meal into the event. It been two weeks so far. It's only a few hours but it really helps our attitude and stamina. Our outing this week was to the enchanting village of Newport - again.
We planned on going to the Bay front to one of Tom's favorite places - Shirley's for breakfast. (And Chrissy and Matt - you need to know this...) We found the door locked and a note of the door. They have closed and are re-locating to the greater Portland area. They are moving near the Columbia River to be closer to family. No more Shirley's in Newport. Which left us wondering where we were going to eat.

We decided to try a place Tom has never been. He was so crest-fallen over the demise of Shirley's that he would have gone to McDonald's, I think. He was in shock. I took him (and myself) to the Hallmark Motel and Georgie's Grill. It's always been good. Tom has just never been there.

They made eggs the way he like them. You have NO idea how RARE that is. He has one standard that he measures every breakfast by. That is Molly's Cafe in San Bernardino, CA. It is without equal - so far. Every omelet or scrambled is rated with the disclaimer, "but it's not Molly's." This time - it was very, very close. Alleluia!

It looked like this: He had added everything possible to those eggs.



My was called a "coastal stuffed."


It's a seafood "omelet" stuffed in a sourdough bowl and topped with hollandaise sauce.

This was our view:

Fun day. Okay, Chrissy. Let's see those cookies.

Raccoon #3

Our weather has been AMAZING! Last year by this time, we had a record-breaking storm with hurricane-force winds for two days. Last year - to this point - we had gotten a FOOT more rain than we've had this year. And the sunsets - here's an image from last night.

This morning we have a four-legged captive. Meet raccoon number three. This one is bigger than the first one, but not as big as the second one. Mean, though. He growled and lunged as I took the picture. Raccoon are NOT cute! They are MEAN and destructive.

Another Year

Had an interview with our branch president the Sunday. I am still going to be teaching Gospel Doctrine. This really is like my chance to "graduate" from Institute. I joined the church my senior year and didn't go to seminary and only took a couple Institute classes during my college years. I have a hard time realizing I have been doing this for three years already. I don't know about my class, but I have certainly gotten an education! It has blessed my life so much.

I know some people have said that it is the hardest calling, that they would rather be put in the nursery than teach this class. I know I would, but I like little ones. I do know that it is REALLY hard to get substitutes for the Sundays I have family commitments. People look at me with the same expression I get when I know I HAVE to go to the dentist. I've had one sweet sister beg me not to ask. She offered to clean my house, wash my car, weed my yard - just please don't ask her to sub for me. It's not THAT bad. The teacher gets all the blessings. Truly. I have gotten so many blessings. So many insights and direction.

Church history - wow. I'm going to be reading a lot.

Raccoon Update

There were three new traps placed out Monday. The only thing we caught was a blue jay! No photos upcoming on that....