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
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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.
