On Santa's Team



My grandma taught me everything about Christmas. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," jeered my sister. "Even dummies know that!"

My grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me.

"No Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second cinnamon bun.

"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days.

"Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobbie Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobbie Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out for recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough; but all we kids knew that Bobbie Decker didn't have a cough, and he didn't have a coat.

I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobbie Decker a coat. I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that. I didn't see a price tag, but ten dollars ought to buy anything. I put the coat and my ten-dollar bill on the counter and pushed them toward the lady behind it.

She looked at the coat, the money, and me. "Is this a Christmas present for someone?" she asked kindly. "Yes," I replied shyly. "It's ... for Bobbie. He's in my class, and he doesn't have a coat." The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons, and write, "To Bobbie, From Santa Claus" on it ... Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy.

Then she drove me over to Bobbie Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobbie's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk.

Suddenly, Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell twice and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobbie. He looked down, looked around, picked up his present, took it inside and closed the door.

Forty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my grandma, in Bobbie Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: Ridiculous!

Santa was alive and well ... AND WE WERE ON HIS TEAM!

Give generously to him and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to.

Deuteronomy 15:10

What Is Love?



1. When my grandma got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandpa does it for her now all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.
Rebecca - age 8

2. When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouths.
Billy - age 4

3. Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.
Kari - age 5

4. Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French Fries without making them give you any of theirs.
Chrissy - age 6
5. Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.
Terri - age 4

6. Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.
Danny - age 7

7. Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My mommy and daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss.
Emily - age 8

8. Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.
Bobby - age 7

9. If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.
Nikka - age 6

10. Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.
Noelle - age 7

11. Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends, even after they know each other so well.
Tommy - age 6

12. My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.
Clare - age 6

13. Love is when mommy sees daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.
Chris - age 7

14. Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.
Mary Ann - age 4

15. When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.
Karen - age 7

16. Love is when mommy sees daddy on the toilet and doesn't think it's gross.
Mark - age 6

17. You really shouldn't say "I LOVE YOU" unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.
Jessica - age 8

And the winner was a 4 year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly man who had just lost his wife. When the child saw the man cry, the little boy went over into the man's yard and climbed on top of the man's lap and just sat there.

When the boy's mother asked him what he'd said to the neighbor, the little boy said, "Nothing, I just helped him cry."

Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy;

without holiness no one will see the Lord.

Hebrews 12:14

GREAT TRUTHS THAT LITTLE CHILDREN HAVE LEARNED

1) No matter how hard you try, you can't baptize cats..


2) When your Mom is mad at your Dad, don't let her brush your hair.


3) If your sister hits you, don't hit her back. They always catch the

second person.


4) Never ask your 3-year old brother to hold a tomato.


5) You can't trust dogs to watch your food.


6) Don't sneeze when someone is cutting your hair.


7) Never hold a Dust-Buster and a cat at the same time.


8) You can't hide a piece of broccoli in a glass of milk.


9) Don't wear polka-dot underwear under white shorts.


10) The best place to be when you're sad is Grandma's lap.


Pass this on to someone who could use a laugh.


Always remember to forget the troubles that pass your way;


BUT NEVER forget the blessings that come each day.



Have a wonderful day with many *smiles*

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."
Matthew 19:14

Love Sees Through a Telescope Not a Microscope



One Christmas morning, little Amy was delighted to find a beautiful golden-haired doll among the presents she unwrapped.  "She's so pretty!"  Amy squealed in excitement as she hugged her new doll.  Then rushing to hug her grandmother, the giver of the doll, she cried, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Amy played with her new doll most of the day, but toward evening she put it down and sought out one of her old dolls.  Amy cradled the tattered and dilapidated old doll in her arms.  Its hair had nearly worn away, its nose was broken, one eye was askew, and an arm was missing. 

"Well, well," Grandma noted, "it seems as though you like that old dolly better."

"I like the beautiful doll you gave me, Grandma," little Amy explained, "but I love this old doll more, because if I didn't love her, no one else would."

We all know the saying, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."  A similar saying might be, "Love is the choice of the beholder."  When we see faults in others, we can choose to look beyond them.  We can choose to love them regardless of their negative attributes, faults, or quirks.

Love endures long and is patient and kind... it takes no account of the evil done to it--pays no attention to a suffered wrong.

1 Corinthians 13: 4,5

Isn't Life Funny?

Not too long ago, I was sharing a story with my sister-in-law about growing up in Kansas.  She comes from a military family so they lived in a lot of places while she was growing up.  My family, on the other hand, lived in the same town all our growing up lives.  My dad grew up on a farm 16 miles west of our little town.  He's never lived anywhere else, except for his time in the army.  It was a great place to grow up with my paternal grandmother close by.  Time spent at Grandma's house was the best!  Her only rules were to love each other and have fun!  I loved her big green recliner where we both could sit, eat popcorn out of her big blue pan, and watch tv in the dark!  Somehow, after school, I could wind up at her office in the court house with the big, big books from the courtroom surrounding us on all the walls, the old adding machine (the grandfather to today's calculators, but WAY more fun!), and the courtroom just across the hall.  How I loved to sit in the judge's leather chair!

My other grandparents lived farther away in southeast Kansas.  My grandpa was a cowboy and my grandma was a music teacher.  Grandma had a studio in which she taught all kinds of music lessons and on several days of the week she traveled around to the other communities and gave the lessons in the students' homes.  She was busy, busy, busy!  Grandpa, by the time I came along, was mostly retired.  He worked nights at the Moose Lodge keeping an eye on things so his days (after he'd slept for a while) were free to be with the grandkids (me).  My days with him were wonderful!  We always had to go check the water in the field for the cattle, but before we went to the pasture Grandpa would stop at the gas station and I got a pop and the pink peppermint candies for the road (all of a couple of miles). Life was good!  After doing our "chores" the time was mine.  A lot of time we sat on the porch swing looking out over the Flint Hills, watching the trains come and go, with his stories of growing up in Kansas.

I loved those days.  I spent many of them over many summers into my adult life there.  We got into trouble with Grandma more than once when she came home to see that our "play" had not been cleaned up.  I loved the rodeos in the summer time where my uncles roped and cousins rode broncs and bulls.  What great fun! 

And just as I was telling my sister-in-law about the rodeos, my brother came in.  He is four years younger than me so his perspective is a little different than mine.  He "hated those rodeos--it was SO hot, and dusty, and boring!!!"  He "would never make his kids go do something like that" (but he'll sit at football and basketball games for days on end and watch his kids). 

Isn't it interesting?  We lived through the same events, but our perceptions were "skewed" by our own personalities, life events, and, probably, birth order.  The thing that I look back on so fondly, he remembers as a horrible event and, yet, it was the same one.  Only our unique "eyes" saw things differently. 

What a great reminder to us all, I think, to try to see things from someone else's point of view.  It's easy to assume that we all see the same thing in the same way.  Stephen R. Covey says, "Seek first to understand, then be understood."  Good advice, I think.