Christmas Memories

Is there an event around which more memories are centered than Christmas? A look through the photo albums I've kept over the years and I find more pictures were taken on Christmas or around Christmas than any other time of the year.

Christmas is always a reminder of the childhood years, of Santa arriving on a fire truck, by helicopter, and even of the community program in a small Idaho town when a dozen young farmers and ranchers hefted Santa's sled on their shoulders to carry it and the jolly elf into the school gym. It brings memories of little brown paper sacks filled with peanuts, hard candy, and a single chocolate; if we were lucky there was an orange in the bag too. There was always an orange in the toe of my stocking Christmas morning! Remember all of the Santas and Christmas trees we colored as children, then ohed and ahed over similar masterpieces our children and grandchildren produced.

Even for someone as tone deaf as me, Christmas memories include music. Christmas carols are some of the first music I really heard. Over the years I've attended a lot of choir and band Christmas concerts with my children and grandchildren; I love hearing and singing (even if I can't carry a tune) Christmas carols at church, and each CD I play brings back special memories like the year our high school choir provided the music for the Baptist Church's Christmas service because their pastor was our choir director and he needed a choir. (We used to be able to do things like that).

There was the first Christmas as a married couple, a Christmas when we were so poor I painted a Christmas tree on our front room window because we didn't have any money to buy a tree, the Christmas we received a darling baby girl, all those Christmases when our children were growing up and we were playing Santa and trying to teach them that Christmas meant more than presents, the Christmas pageants where our children, then our grandchildren presented the story from St. Luke, and of course the time our cat climbed the Christmas tree and tipped it over.

Christmas is a time to build golden memories of giving. Coins dropped in a Salvation Army bucket, playing secret Santa, an anonymous check, coats and blankets donated to a shelter, a bag of groceries for someone who needs it, a sidewalk shoveled, a few hours of free babysitting, a telephone call to someone who is lonely, and the list goes on and on. Rich or poor we can give something.

Good memories are one of life's greatest pleasures and so I'm wishing all of our V-Formation readers a Christmas filled with warm memories to treasure throughout all your days.

 

 

 

Gifts that can't be wrapped.

When you read the list of authors on the side of this blog, my name is there. But when you read the blog posts, you don't see my name very often. That's because I've been a huge slacker and haven't been posting when it's my turn. And instead of getting in trouble, or getting sent to the back of the formation, like I deserve, these wonderful ladies just gather me in and forgive me, unconditionally.
Oscar Wilde said: "To give and not expect return, that is what lies at the heart of love."
During this Christmas season I hope we will think about these two wonderful gifts we can give. The gift of "Unconditional Love" and the gift of "Forgiveness."

A Gift from Hawaii

On the theme of Hawaii, from Lynn, give yourself a gift today and listen to this lovely and original arrangement of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," by Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwo'ole. He died in 1997 at the age of 38 and 10,000 people attended his funeral. This clip shows a very joyous celebration of his life. This song may be familiar to those who watch more TV or see more movies than I do, as it's been used in the soundtrack for more than a few movies.

http://vimeo.com/8578344

Gifts

I've been given the privilege of speaking at our Christmas Sacrament service on Gifts. Of course I'm assigned to do my version of President Monson's talk of a few years ago on the gifts we've been given, but I've been thinking of other gifts that we can give.

Some years at Christmas when my kids were little, we'd put a basket on the fireplace and when someone did a good deed or performed a service for someone else, they'd put a note in the basket as a gift to the Savior: "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these...." Then on Christmas Eve we'd read each note and remember with warmth - and some humor - the good deeds that had been done.

And some years the family would think about it all month, then on Christmas Eve we would write a note - a pledge - put it in a little box and tie it with a ribbon. Then each little box would go in the Christmas basket as gifts to be given to the Savior during the year. We each kept a note to remind ourselves what we were doing as our gift to the Savior that year.

This year, given President Monson's emphasis on service and my upcoming talk on gifts, I decided I wanted to give a gift of service every day in December to someone - somewhere. Of course, that is very easy to do when we have a retirement center in our ward, and several people who have just come out of the hospital with various problems. Those obvious persons will be the recipient of acts of service, but I want to delve deeper than that. I want to find people who don't expect anything. People hidden away in their lonely little world who need acts of love, especially at this time of year. I'd even thought about not counting acts of service to family members, but decided against that. They need them as much as others.

I have a terrible time sitting down to write little notes to people who have done something nice, or who need a lift, or some kind of thank you. If I can send a quick e-mail, I'm good with that, but that can't count as a gift of service. It is too easy. And who wants to keep things like that on their computer to read again and again - if they like it?

Yesterday I printed address labels for my Hawaiian sister(the one I take care of all her medical stuff) and took them to her for her Christmas cards. Today I made a goodie to take to a man who just got out of the hospital (in fact, two men in our ward!) Tomorrow I volunteered to take the shift of a sister at the Family History Center while she recuperates from a medical procedure she had this week. That is a special sacrifice as it is a Saturday morning I could really use at home. Those are the best gifts - ones that you sacrifice to give. I need to come up with something special for Sunday for another sister who just came home from the hospital.

Then my challenge will begin - finding something special, different, unique - some kind of service that will be meaningful - a gift of love - and then finding people to give that gift to that really need it.

Of course, the intent behind the whole exercise is to come closer to my Savior and appreciate more fully the magnificent gifts that He has given me. Hopefully, I will be better able to speak on gifts at Christmas.

She Named the Turkey!

Our daughter decided she wanted to cook the major part of the Thanksgiving feast this year: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes; she even took on the veggie tray. (Those outside the United States will probably not understand the importance of "the veggie tray")

This would be her first attempt at a meal that makes even seasoned cook's knees wobble. Yet, I had every confidence that she would do a great job. (She's very smart) Besides, I was thrilled to not be cooking. After 37 or 38 years of slaving over the Pilgrim feast didn't I deserve a little break? Truthfully I do remember going to my Dad's for a few Turkey days, my niece's one year, and Disneyland for another where we ate some sort of weird turkey dinner in an Irish pub.

Anyway, back to my daughter. The adventure began weeks before Turkey Day. She went online to look up stuffing recipes. She watched episode after episode of The Food Network. She debated fresh turkey vrs. frozen turkey, or whether to stuff the turkey or not to stuff the turkey.

Thanksgiving morning arrived and I was feeling very grateful for my darling daughter. And, as if she knew I was thinking about her, she called.

"Mom?" (a slight panic in the voice)
"Good morning!"
"Mom, this turkey looks gross. Is it suppose to look gross like that?"
"Yes, it's just fine. You're just used to seeing it all brown and yummy. Just clean it well and put it in the roaster. It'll look terrific in about four hours. Did you remember to take out the giblets?"
"Yes. What's in that little white bag, anyway?"
"Well...heart, liver..."
"Stop! Don't tell me! I'm just going to throw that away!"
"Yea, good idea."

Twenty minutes later she called again.

"Mom." (a sad tone in the voice)
"Yes?"
"Do you think Fred had a good life?"
"Fred?"
"Fred, the turkey."
"You named the turkey?"
"Yes. Do you think he had a good life?"
"I think he was a noble creature who served his purpose."
"Really?"
"Really. If it makes you feel better say a little Native American prayer of Thanksgiving for his sacrifice."
"That's a good idea. Thanks, Mom."
"You're welcome."
"See you at 3:30."
"Looking forward to it."
"Don't forget the green bean casserole."
"I won't. I love you. Oh, and just a little advise."
"Yes."
"If you do the turkey next year..."
"Yes?"
"Don't give it a name."

Let it Snow!

Last night about six inches of snow fell, and so this morning the schools are closed and the children are outside throwing snowballs at the neighbours' kids and building armies of snowmen. Forecasters are saying that the snow will last for about another week.

I had quite a busy week ahead before this. Tuesday night was Young Women in Excellence at our Stake Centre half-an-hour away on the outskirts of London. On Wednesday night the local Faith Forum – a group of the leaders of all the churches and religious and community groups in the area – was to be meeting in our chapel for the first time and I was doing the refreshments. Thursday was my eldest daughter’s riding lesson, and on Friday I was supposed to be attending my regular blood donation session.

But we Brits are rubbish at snow and seem to get taken by surprise by it every year. There is never enough grit for the roads, and I had never heard of snow chains for cars until I read about them in Twilight. I’ve no idea whether it is possible to buy them here, but we don’t have any so the car isn’t going anywhere and thus neither am I.

I already know that Young Women in Excellence and the Faith Forum are both postponed. We can’t get to the riding school five miles away and whilst I could walk to my blood donation venue (only 1 mile) I think the National Blood Service staff will tell me I shouldn’t walk back after donating, so it’s probably rather pointless.

So all plans for the week are cancelled, which is rather nice in a funny sort of way. Suddenly I have lots of wonderful free time and I’m quite giddy with the choice of things I might do with it, stuck in the warm safety of my home. Writing comes out top. I’m only 20,000 words from completing my epic fantasy novel, there’s another fan fiction competition to enter, and I need to tie together a few loose floating scenes from my attempt at chick-lit. I absolutely love writing and there’s really nothing I would rather do than snuggle under a duvet with my laptop.

Unless it’s snuggling down with a laptop and a cake. I had already bought the refreshments for the postponed meeting, you see, and they won’t keep…

I Survived NaNoWriMo!

So about a month ago, I was challenged by a family member to participate in this year's NaNoWriMo In a nutshell, this is a writing challenge. One has to commit to writing 50,000 words in one month's time. Wow!!! I've dabbled in the writing world before, but I'm not sure I've ever written 50,000 words in 30 days---until now. I'm proud to share that as of this afternoon, I have indeed completed this remarkable feat. (You may hold the applause for later.) ;) [Kidding!]

I have to say this challenge was just that---a challenge! And yet it was a refreshing way to break through writer's block. I used a storyline that has been rattling around in my head for a couple of years. Now it's finally down on paper . . . actually typed up on a word processor on my laptop, but I digress. True, it needs a bit of polishing and such, but it has morphed into a workable manuscript, complete with a plot-line.

Would I have completed the story without this little nudge from NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month)? I'm not sure. All I know is despite all of this past month's adventures, which included feeding 23 people for Thanksgiving dinner, I squeaked in under the wire to finish. What a feeling of accomplishment. Even if this story never succeeds in getting published, what a rush to know I completed what I had pledged to do.

Will I tackle this challenge next year? That remains to be seen, but at this point in time I wouldn't be at all surprised. After all, my future bestseller will possibly be in need of a sequel. ;)