As a word of caution, today’s blog deals with grief and loss.

~~~*~~*~~~

“The joy of brightening other lives, bearing each others’ burdens, easing each other’s loads and supplanting empty hearts and lives with generous gifts becomes for us the magic of the holidays.” — W.C. Jones

~~~*~~*~~~

John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

~~~*~~*~~~

7 can soup from Debbie M.

1 can (15 ounces) black beans, drained and rinsed

1 can (15 ounces) pinto beans, drained and rinsed

1 can (14.5 ounces) petite diced tomatoes

1 can (15 ounces) sweet corn, drained

1 can (12.5 ounces) chicken breast, drained & flaked (I tried this, but used leftover chicken instead of canned)

1 large can (28 ounces) green enchilada sauce

1 can (14 ounces) chicken broth

1 packet taco seasoning

1/2 teaspoon cumin

1/2 teaspoon chili powder

1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

Toppings:• Shredded cheese• Tortilla chips• Lime wedges

Combine all the ingredients into a large pot and boil over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat and let simmer for 20-25 minutes. Serve warm with shredded cheese, tortilla chips, and lime wedges, if desired

~~~*~~*~~~

TRADITION

Remember those around you who have experienced a loss of some kind this past year, loss of a spouse, a job, a friend, a pet. 

Sometimes we avoid people who are grieving. We don’t know what to say. We don’t feel comfortable. How can we wish them a “Merry Christmas?” How can we help? What if I say something wrong? Those are all valid concerns. There is never a good time for grief and loss and there is no “right” way to grieve. There are things which we can do to help people feel less alone. Let them cry whenever they want, no questions asked. Be there with a hug. Talk to them about their loved one. Use their loved one’s name. They need to know their loved one is remembered. Share a memory, a picture. Invite your friend to your holiday activities but make sure they know that if they can’t come, you understand and it’s all right. Let’s imagine they come to your get together and seem to be okay, but then they start crying. Find a quiet place for them, let them know that you care, and that’s it fine. Don’t tell them not to cry or that it’s time to move on. Grief takes as long as it takes. I had a friend who died of cancer. She wanted to talk to someone about her fears and concerns, but didn’t want to burden her children or make them feel sad. She talked to me. My daughter’s father-in-law is dying of cancer. This will be his last Christmas. My daughter doesn’t want to talk about death or cancer. It hurts. Another friend’s daughter is going through a messy divorce. My friend is full of anger for her daughter and for the death of her dreams. I'm not a trained counselor, but I worked with hospice for 20 years and learned a lot about coping with grief. 

Once again, there is never a good time for grief and loss. There is no “right” way to grieve. Respect that, and find a way to say “I love you.”  Share with your family what it means to "mourn with those that mourn" and to "comfort those in need of comfort."~~ Marilee

~~~*~~*~~~

I really enjoy reading Bob Perks articles and stories. I hope that you will enjoy this one. ~~ Marilee

"You've got to believe!" By Bob Perks

Bob@BobPerks.com

"Do you think we can save him?" the young boy asked.

"I don't know. He's in bad shape. I don't believe we can," another boy added.

"You've got to believe. We need him. He's important you know," the youngest child said. "He's the Christmas Snowman."

"It'll take some work, but we can do it," the first child replied.

Just a few days before they had worked for hours creating the perfect Christmas snowman. It was a town tradition to have one there in the park for the big day. Warmer temperatures, a little rain and wind had sadly carved away some of the finer points of this work of art. His hat was missing, only one eye remained and his carrot nose apparently made for a tasty lunch for some hungry rabbits.

"But there isn't much snow to work with," another child added.

Much of the snow nearby had melted.

"Look over there, Old man Jeffries yard has plenty of snow. The sun doesn't shine over there," the first child.

"I'm not going there. He's mean."

"Then we'll never get it done!"

The three boys sat quietly on a nearby bench just a few feet away from the snowman.

Suddenly the youngest boy spoke up. "I'll go ask him. I'll go see Old man Jeffries. He can't be that mean!"

The older boys were amazed at his bravery. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Maybe he'll lock you up and you'll miss Christmas," one boy said.

"Oh, go on. It's just snow. What's he going to do with it, anyway?" the youngest replied.

The two boys stayed on the bench and watched as the youngest cut through the trees that separated the park from the man's yard.

The child walked up on the porch and knocked on the door.

In what seemed like an eternity, the old man finally came to the door.

The brave boy's friends jumped to their feet in anticipation. Not so much ready to run to his aid, but ready to run away screaming in fear. There was really nothing to fear at all. The stories of the old man were local tales made up in the minds of children with more imagination than sense.

The door closed and the young boy ran toward his friends.

"Is he coming after us?" one child yelled.

"No, he's coming to help us," the child replied.

"No way!"

"He went to get his coat and a wheel barrel. He has two shovels and will meet us outside in a minute."

The youngest boy ran back to the house while the other two walked slowly, cautiously toward him.

"Come on, you slow pokes," the old man yelled. "We've got some snow man building to do."

One by one they loaded the wheel barrel with as much snow as they could handle. Mr. Jeffries gathered a few pieces of coal for the eyes, a new carrot and an old hat he had in the closet.

"I never thought...well...it's just that I thought you were mean," the oldest boy said.

Mr. Jeffries just laughed at him.

"Why did you want to help us?" the other one asked.

"I have lived in that small house for many years and I have enjoyed watching the neighborhood children build a snowman in this exact spot each year just before Christmas. It's a tradition, you know. I was worried about him this year, too. I watched him crumbling and melting away the last few days. I knew he had to make it for Christmas. I would sneak out late at night each year and keep the other snowmen in shape. No one ever knew it. I'm not supposed to be doing things like this. They tell me I'm too old, but if you didn't fix the snowman I would have tried by myself," he said.

"Well, we did it together," the youngest said.

The four of them stood proudly in front the newest and biggest snowman that town had ever seen.

"Excellent!" Mr. Jeffries said.

"Excellent!" the boys all said in agreement.

"Well, I better get home," one boy said.

"Me too," added another.

"It is Christmas Eve. You better get ready for Santa," Mr. Jeffries added.

Then waving goodbye they all went their separate ways.

In the early afternoon on Christmas Day, the youngest boy headed for the park to meet his friends.

He had a brand new sled and a brand new friend he wanted to share it with. Old man Jeffries.

As he approached the park he could hear sirens. His friends were standing on Mr. Jeffries front porch.

"What's wrong?" the youngest yelled.

"It's old man Jeffries...he needs help!"

"Look out. Clear the way!" the medic screamed.

The three boys stood just outside the door.

"Is he okay?" the young boy asked. "Is he okay?"

There was an odd silence in the room. Mr. Jeffries, barely responding, turned his head toward the boy and smiled.

"I made it till Christmas...just like the snowman," he whispered.

"Do you think we can save him?" one man asked.

"I don't know. He's in bad shape. I don't believe we can."

"You've got to believe. We need him. He's important you know," the young boy said crying.

"He saved the Christmas snowman," he added.

They rushed him away in the ambulance.

It wasn't until later that day that they got the word. Mr. Jeffries had died.

But, there is a magic in Christmas unlike any other day.

It has been twenty five years since that day and until this very Christmas it is an annual event, a competition of sorts, to build the best Christmas Snowman in what has officially become "Old Jeffries Park."

You see, that young boy grew up to be the Mayor.

Ask him how and he'll reply, "You've got to believe!""I believe in you!" Bob Perks

Bob@BobPerks.com copyright 2004 Bob Perks I encourage you to share my stories with your friends but, when copying I ask that you keep my name and contact information attached so that new readers can find their way here. Use of this story for commercial use is prohibited without direct permission from the author.