Into the Light

Christmas is not just a time for festivity and merry making. It is more than that. It is a time for the contemplation of eternal things. The Christmas spirit is a spirit of giving and forgiving.” J. C. Penney


~*~*~*~



Celtic Woman - O Holy Night (2020 Version) - YouTube


O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the dear Savior's birth
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Till he appeared and the Spirit felt its worth
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

Fall on your knees
Oh, hear the angel voices
O night divine, the night when Christ was born
O night divine
O night, O night divine

Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother
And in his name all oppression shall cease
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we
With all our hearts we praise His holy name
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we
O night, O Holy Night, O night divine
O night, O Holy Night, O night divine



~*~*~*~


Decorating Tip


For a simple but beautiful centerpiece, set three or five candles of different heights in the middle of the table on a tray, then surround the bases of the candles with seasonal items. Cuttings from your Christmas tree, or from evergreen trimmings in your yard are a great first layer. Then apples, glass ornaments turned hanger side down, pine cones, nuts, wire star garland, leftover ribbon.


*


Wreaths aren't just for front doors. Add a really pretty one to a plain wall or wind tinsel around a frame, attach some tree decorations and hang it somewhere that doesn't usually get decorated like a bathroom or garage.


~*~*~*~


My grandson, Lucas, has figured prominently in many of my Christmas stories. He is one of our 11 adored grandchildren. Lucas joined our family when he was almost 1 year of age. He brought with him many challenges. Lucas is afraid of a LOT of things: loud noises, bees, sunflowers, thunder, lightning, costumes and the dark, to name a few. When he was about 3, Gina and her family joined us for Christmas. Lucas was fascinated by our tree. We turned the lights on and he carefully reached out, touched the closest bulb and said, “Light, Pomma.” He went from one bulb to another, touching them and saying, “Light, Pomma.” At 8, the fear of the dark is not as strong in Lucas as it was at 3, but he still fears the darkness. I fear the dark, too, not so much the absence of light that is there in the quiet of the night, but the darkness that occurs when sadness and confusion fills our world. Lucas and I have both learned that light is good. Daylight enables us to see the real world, with all of its beauty. An even more important source of light comes from the Son of God. As I’ve walked along my path this month, I’ve read the four gospels and completed reading the book of Acts. My life is filled with light, the light of Christ. When Lucas was young, he loved to be sang to at night. His favorite bedtime songs were the songs about Jesus Christ. He went to sleep every night filled with the light of Christ. Walking this path has helped me walk every day in His light as I’ve increased my know ledge of his life. There is a song I love called “Miracles”. This song by Shawna Edwards says “Jesus is a God of miracles. Nothing is at all impossible to Him. But I know this: Of all His miracles, the most incredible must be the miracle that rescues me." ~~ Marilee


The Miracle (A Song for all Christians - by Shawna Edwards) - YouTube


~*~*~*~




A Christmas Prayer
Robert Louis Stevenson

Loving Father,
Help us to remember the birth of Jesus
that we may share in the song of the angels,
the gladness of the shepherds,
and the worship of the wise men.

Close the door of hate and
open the door of love all over the world.
Let kindness come with every gift and
good desires with every greeting.

Deliver us from evil by the blessing
which Christ brings, and teach us to
be merry with clear hearts.

May the Christmas morning make us happy
to be Thy children, and the Christmas evening
bring us to our beds with grateful thoughts,
forgiving and forgiven, for Jesus' sake.
Amen




THE MOST PRECIOUS GIFT

by Alice Smith

"Hurry up! We’ve got to get to Nanny’’s house." The children were happy and excited as we started off toward my mother-in-law’’s, a 45 minute drive down the coast.


This particular Christmas Eve was cold and misty, the traffic bumper to bumper. My husband edged our car into the passing lane of the four-lane highway, which was bisected by a median strip. The visibility became increasingly limited; feeling anxious, I looked back at the children sitting calmly in the back seat. They were more precious to me than anything in the world.

Suddenly, it was as if a voice spoke to me saying, "Move over! You’re in the wrong lane," even though I absolutely knew we were not on a two-lane road. I turned to my husband. "Honey, we’re on a two-lane road and you’’e on the wrong side," I said with deadly intensity. "Pull over quick."

He knew, and knew that I knew that we were on a four lane highway. But when I repeated my warning again, he immediately began edging back into the right lane. No sooner had we made it back than cars that had been behind us began careening into the median, anywhere to get out of the passing lane. Horns were blaring, cars pulling off the side of the road. Then we saw why: A car; with its bright lights shining, was racing down the wrong side of the road, the lane we’d been traveling in. My husband and I looked at each other in stunned silence. We could have been involved in a terrible head-on crash.

Extrasensory perception? Maybe. But I choose to think that God sent me a life-saving message.

Our family had a special reason to celebrate the birth of our Savior, Jesus, that memorable Christmas Eve. We had been given the most precious of Christmas gifts––––the gift of life itself.



Do Not Despair

Christmas Eve was a night of song that wrapped itself about you lie a shawl. But it warmed more than your body. It warmed your heart … filled it too, with melody that would last forever.  Beth Streeter Aldrich



~*~*~*~



STAR OF BETHLEHEM
written by Sherri O. Bird
Choral Version by Daniel Carter


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XaiO05bwB0w

lyrics included


The night was long, we traveled far,
at times I looked but could not see the star.
Yet still it shone unveiling then
the way to Bethlehem.

My heart held fear mid puzzled joy,
for I was only a small shepherd boy.
And on a hillside soft and green,
I heard an angel sing.

I saw the midnight sky aflame
with radiant angels bathed in light, holy light.
Bringing word that Christ was born and beckoning to find him,
go and find him.

A sweeter face I neer will see
Than of those loving eyes smiling up at me.
I found a King;
I found a friend that night in Bethlehem.

But life goes on, years beyond one brief night of my youth.
Time clouds my vision of truth, of truth
And tho I stumble and fall I can hear someone call,
"Do not despair, your star is still there."

That Christmas night so long ago has filled my life with love because I
know that he lives now as he did then, a King in Bethlehem,
Whose love never ends. Shine for me again,
Star of Bethlehem.



~*~*~*~



Recipe



Fastest and Best Fudge Ever

4 c. powdered sugar, sifted

2/3 c. unsweetened cocoa

½ t. cinnamon

1/3 c. milk

1 t. vanilla

½ c. margarine or butter, cut into pieces

½ c. chopped pecans or walnuts

Combine powdered sugar, cocoa, and cinnamon in 8-cup glass bowl. Pour in milk and vanilla. Sprinkle margarine over top.

Microwave, uncovered, at High power for 2 minutes. Mix well and pour into aluminum foil lined and greased 8 x 8 x 2" baking pan. Sprinkle pecans over top of fudge and press in lightly. Refrigerate until firm––abt. One hour.



~*~*~*~



I have a song stuck in my mind and my heart today. (Yes, it’s the one the link is to). We sang it in our Christmas Cantata many years ago. I have carried it in my heart ever since. One verse which stands out in my mind from this song about a young shepherd boy who saw the star and heard the angels sing, then saw the Lord:

But life goes on, years beyond one brief night of my youth.
Time clouds my vision of truth, of truth
And tho I stumble and fall I can hear someone call,
"Do not despair, your star is still there."

This weekend, I looked for opportunities to serve, and felt bad because there are many things which I can no longer do. I began to doubt that I could make a difference, then the phrase came to mind “do not despair, your star is still there”. I knew that Jesus would accept my small offering of serving, because he knows the desires of my heart. One of my readers shared this story with me about an act of service which turned out a little different from what they thought would happen.



From Sandy
I'll never forget the year I delivered a package for a relative. We were visiting my sister and she told me about a family that lived nearby for whom they had prepared a Christmas package. The father in the family was unemployed and they were really struggling. My sister's family decided to take all of the money they would have spent on their own Christmas and provide for this family. She didn't want them to know who the gift was from though and trusted me - a total stranger to the area to deliver the items. My dh and I loaded the food and gifts into our car and headed for the address. After several wrong turns, we found the small home and carried the boxes of gifts to the porch, then rang the doorbell. A tired, sad looking young woman answered the door. As she looked at the boxes and saw they contained food, she began to cry, their cupboards were truly bare. The house was cold because they only heated it enough to keep the pipes from freezing. There was no money for more heat. I noticed that she had taken wrapping paper and cut the shape of a Christmas tree out and taped it to the wall. There were three small gifts under the "tree" which looked like candy bars wrapped up. This mother was trying. Over and over through her tears she kept repeating that she didn't know anyone cared... Then, just as were leaving, she asked once again who the wonderful person was who had done all this for a "single mom" and her family. A single mom? What did she mean? With that we realized we had taken the gifts to the wrong house. We didn't know what to do...there was no way we could take those gifts back. We told her that God knew her needs and to thank him. -That the giver hadn't been sure of sizes, so if anything didn't fit to exchange things for the correct sizes at the local Kmart. My husband pulled out his wallet and gave her money for the power bill, then walked over and turned the heat up and told her that no one should be cold at Christmas. We returned to my sister's not knowing what she'd say or do and told her family what happened. They were stunned, but decided that the gifts had gone to the right people all along, people who needed to know that someone cared. The original family in their neighborhood received many gifts from other people that Christmas. Their stockings were full-and so of course were the stockings of the little family God led us to.

I know that the Lord will lead us to do good. He loves us, all of us.

That Christmas night so long ago has filled my life with love because I know that he lives now as he did then, a King in Bethlehem, Whose love never ends. Shine for me again, Star of Bethlehem.



~*~*~*~



This Christmas
From The Editors of McCall's Magazine 1959

This Christmas, mend a quarrel.
Seek out a forgotten friend.
Dismiss suspicion, and replace it with trust.
Write a love letter. Share some treasure.
Give a soft answer. Encourage youth.
Manifest your loyalty in word and deed.
Keep a promise. Find the time.
Forgo a grudge. Forgive an enemy.
Listen. Apologize if you were wrong. Try to understand.
Flout envy. Examine your demands on others.
Think first of someone else. Appreciate.
Be kind; be gentle. Laugh a little. Laugh a little more.
Deserve confidence. Take up arms against malice.
Decry complacency. Express your gratitude.
Go to church. Welcome a stranger.
Gladden the heart of a child.
Take pleasure in the beauty and wonder of the earth.
Speak your love. Speak it again. Speak it still once again.

Christmas is celebration, and there is no celebration
that compares with the realization of its true meaning -
with the sudden stirring of the heart that has extended
itself toward the core of life. Then, only then,
is it possible to grasp the significance of the first Christmas -
to savor in the inward ear the wild, sweet music of the angel choir;
to envision the star-struck sky, and glimpse,
behind the eyelids the ray of light that fell athwart
a darkened path and changed the world.


Brotherhood

 



Christmas brings out the best in people. We see the Christmas spirit evident in people's thoughtfulness, courtesy, and graciousness to one another.



~*~*~*~

Little Gretchen and the Wooden Shoe

By Elizabeth Harrison

Once upon a time, so long ago that everybody has forgotten the date, in a city in the north of Europe, with such a hard name that nobody can ever remember it, there was a little seven-year-old boy named Wolff, whose parents were dead, who lived with a cross and stingy old aunt, who never thought of kissing him more than once a year and
who sighed deeply whenever she gave him a bowlful of soup.

But the poor little fellow had such a sweet nature that in spite of everything, he loved the old woman, although he was terribly afraid of her and could never look at her ugly old face without shivering.

As this aunt of little Wolff was known to have a house of her own and an old woollen stocking full of gold, she had not dared to send the boy to a charity school; but, in order to get a reduction in the price, she had so wrangled with the master of the school, to which little Wolff finally went, that this bad man, vexed at having a pupil so poorly dressed and paying so little, often punished him unjustly, and even prejudiced his companions against him, so that the three boys, all sons of rich parents, made a drudge and laughing stock of the little fellow.

The poor little one was thus as wretched as a child could be and used to hide himself in corners to weep
whenever Christmas time came.

It was the schoolmaster’s custom to take all his pupils to the midnight mass on Christmas Eve,
and to bring them home again afterward.

Now, as the winter this year was very bitter, and as heavy snow had been falling for several days, all the boys came well bundled up in warm clothes, with fur caps pulled over their ears, padded jackets, gloves and knitted mittens, and strong, thick-soled boots. Only little Wolff presented himself shivering in the poor clothes he used to wear both weekdays and Sundays and having on his feet only thin socks in heavy wooden shoes.

His naughty companions noticing his sad face and awkward appearance, made many jokes at his expense; but the little fellow was so busy blowing on his fingers, and was suffering so much with chilblains, that he took no notice of them.
So the band of youngsters, walking two and two behind the master, started for the church.

It was pleasant in the church, which was brilliant with lighted candles; and the boys excited by the warmth took advantage of the music of the choir and the organ to chatter among themselves in low tones. They bragged about the fun that was awaiting them at home. The mayor’s son had seen, just before starting off, an immense goose ready stuffed and dressed for cooking. At the alderman’s home there was a little pine-tree with branches laden down with oranges, sweets, and toys. And the lawyer’s cook had put on her cap with such care, as she never thought of taking unless she was expecting something very good!

Then they talked, too, of all that the Christ-Child was going to bring them, of all he was going to put in their shoes which, you might be sure, they would take good care to leave in the chimney place before going to bed; and the eyes of these little urchins, as lively as a cage of mice, were sparkling in advance over the joy they would have when they awoke in the morning and saw the pink bag full of sugar-plums, the little lead soldiers ranged in companies in their boxes, the menageries smelling of varnished wood, and the magnificent jumping-jacks in purple and tinsel.

Alas! Little Wolff knew by experience that his old miser of an aunt would send him to bed supperless, but, with childlike faith and certain of having been, all the year, as good and industrious as possible, he hoped that the Christ-Child would not forget him, and so he, too, planned to place his wooden shoes in good time in the fireplace.

Midnight mass over, the worshippers departed, eager for their fun, and the band of pupils always walking two and two, and following the teacher, left the church.

Now, in the porch and seated on a stone bench set in the niche of a painted arch, a child was sleeping, a child in a white woollen garment, but with his little feet bare, in spite of the cold. He was not a beggar, for his garment was white and new, and near him on the floor was a bundle of carpenter’s tools.

In the clear light of the stars, his face, with its closed eyes, shone with an expression of divine sweetness, and his long, curling, blond locks seemed to form a halo about his brow. But his little child’s feet,
made blue by the cold of this bitter December night, were pitiful to see!

The boys so well clothed for the winter weather passed by quite indifferent to the unknown child; several of them, sons of the notables of the town, however, cast on the vagabond looks in which could be read all the scorn of the rich for the poor, of the well-fed for the hungry.

But little Wolff, coming last out of the church, stopped, deeply touched, before the beautiful sleeping child.

“Oh, dear!” said the little fellow to himself, “this is frightful! This poor little one has no shoes and stockings in this bad weather, and, what is still worse, he has not even a wooden shoe to leave near him to-night while he sleeps,
into which the little Christ-Child can put something good to soothe his misery.”

And carried away by his loving heart, Wolff drew the wooden shoe from his right foot, laid it down before the sleeping child, and, as best he could, sometimes hopping, sometimes limping with his sock wet by the snow,
he went home to his aunt.

“Look at the good-for-nothing!” cried the old woman, full of wrath at the sight of the shoeless boy.
“What have you done with your shoe, you little villain?”

Little Wolff did not know how to lie, so, although trembling with terror when he saw the rage of the old shrew,
he tried to relate his adventure.

But the miserly old creature only burst into a frightful fit of laughter.

“Aha! So my young gentleman strips himself for the beggars. Aha! My young gentleman breaks his pair of shoes for a bare-foot! Here is something new, forsooth. Very well, since it is this way, I shall put the only shoe that is left into the chimney-place, and I’ll answer for it that the Christ-Child will put in something tonight to beat you with in the morning!
And you will have only a crust of bread and water to-morrow. And we shall see if the next time,
you will be giving your shoes to the first vagabond that happens along.”

And the wicked woman having boxed the ears of the poor little fellow, made him climb up into the loft
where he had his wretched cubbyhole.

Desolate, the child went to bed in the dark and soon fell asleep, but his pillow was wet with tears.

But behold! The next morning when the old woman, awakened early by the cold, went downstairs, oh, wonder of wonders, she saw the big chimney filled with shining toys, bags of magnificent bonbons, and riches of every sort, and standing out in front of all this treasure, was the right wooden shoe which the boy had given to the little vagabond, yes, and beside it, the one which she had placed in the chimney to hold the bunch of switches.

As little Wolff, attracted by the cries of his aunt, stood in an ecstasy of childish delight before the splendid Christmas gifts, shouts of laughter were heard outside. The woman and child ran out to see what all this meant, and behold!  All the gossips of the town were standing around the public fountain. What could have happened? Oh, a most ridiculous and extraordinary thing!

The children of the richest men in the town, whom their parents had planned to surprise with the most beautiful presents had found only switches in their shoes!

Then the old woman and the child thinking of all the riches in their chimney were filled with fear. But suddenly they saw the priest appear, his countenance full of astonishment. Just above the bench placed near the door of the church, in the very spot where, the night before, a child in a white garment and with bare feet, in spite of the cold, had rested his lovely head,
the priest had found a circlet of gold imbedded in the old stones.

Then, they all crossed themselves devoutly, perceiving that this beautiful sleeping child with the carpenter’s tools had been Jesus of Nazareth himself, who had come back for one hour just as he had been when he used to work in the home of his parents; and reverently they bowed before this miracle,which the good God had done to reward the faith and the love of a little child.

Love Jesus

 


Christmas begins

When the song of angels is stilled,

When the star in the sky is gone

When the Kings and princes are departed

When the shepherds are back with their flocks

The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost

To Heal the broken

To feed the hungry

To release the prisoner

To rebuild peace among brothers

To make music for all to hear.


~*~*~*~


Do You Have Room?

Performed by One Voice Children's Choir

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u0tn-VdgU_k

They journeyed far, a weary pair,
They sought for shelter from the cold night air.
Some place where she could lay her head,
Where she could give her Babe a quiet bed.
Was there no room?  No corner there?
In all the town a spot someone could share?
Was there no soul come to their aid?
A stable bare was where the family stayed.

Do you have room for the Savior?
And do you seek Him anew?
Have you a place for the one who lived and died for you?
Are you as humble as a shepherd boy,
Or as wise as men of old?
Would you have come that night?
Would you have sought the light?
Do you have room?

A star arose, a wondrous light
A sign from God this was the Holy Night
And yet so few would go to see
The babe who came to rescue you and me.
This child divine is now a King
The gift of life to all the world He brings
And all mankind, He saves from doom
but on that night for Him there was no room

Do you have room for the Savior?
And do you seek Him anew?
Have you a place for the one who lived and died for you?
Are you as humble as a shepherd bo,
Or as wise as men of old?
Would you have come that night?
Would you have sought the light?
Do you have room?

Will you come tonight?
Will you seek the light?
Do you have room?



~*~*~*~



Almond Joy/Mounds Center

2/3 c. Sweetened condensed Milk (5 oz.)

2 c. powdered sugar

1 t. vanilla extract

12-14 oz. shredded coconut

1 pkg. Roasted almonds (optional)

Bring all ingredients to room temperature. In a small bowl mix together the vanilla and condensed milk. Add the powdered sugar ½½ c. at a time, blend until smooth. Add the coconut, blend until evenly distributed. Spread in a 8 x 8" pan. Chill. Cut into segments for dipping. Press a roasted almond onto the top of each segment if desired.

~*~*~*~


Yesterday, I got semi-sidetracked. Does that ever happen to you? My intention was to contact someone who was alone, who needed to know someone cared about them this Christmas. I planned to ask them about their Christmas memories, and help them remember the good times. Dean and I prepared goodie bags with apples, oranges, grapes, and granola bars and delivered them to various families in the area. We shared memories with many of them. At one home, we talked about the Fisher Price nativity set I own and how much our children enjoyed playing with the pieces when they were young. It’s not out this year, or I should say that it wasn’t out until yesterday. When I got home and looked at the empty spot where it usually sits, I had to put it out. So many memories of playing with my youngest daughter, Gina, and all of our grandchildren flooded back. One memory replayed itself over and over in my mind. Four years ago our grandson Lucas was here. We played with my set. I told Lucas a “service” stressed version of the nativity story. Lucas told me the names of the figurines, and every one of them was “Jesus” - the shepherds, the wise men, and Joseph. Even Mary and the angel were “Jesus”. The last piece was “baby Jesus”. I asked Lucas to tell me the story. He picked up the first wise man and said “serve Jesus”. Then said the same for each figurine, then finally picked up the baby in the manger again and said, “love Jesus”. He got that right! I wish I was a child and could serve through their eyes. This weekend I will concentrate on serving more. ~~ Marilee


~*~*~*~



True Christmas Joy

by Tennett Morrell


'Twas the day before Christmas, a long time ago
And our beautiful earth was all covered with snow;
Down the street with their sleighs came two manly boys,
Who paused at the window to look at the toys.

Already two others were there looking in;
But their faces were sad, and their clothes old and thin.
And the little one said, "is it because we're so poor
That Santa doesn't come to our house anymore ? "

The older one patted his wee brother's head,
And hugged him up closely, as softly he said:
"Oh, maybe he will come tonight, little Tim,
If we ask in our prayers for the Lord to send him!"

The little face smiled, but the boys saw a tear
In the eye of the one who quelled little Tim's fear.
Then slowly and sadly the waifs went their way
To the place they called home, where that night they would pray.

The boys, with their sleighs, followed closely behind,
And neither one spoke, but in each childish mind
A beautiful thought said as plain as could be:
"I
’’’ll share with those poor boys what Santa brings me. "

When the two reached their home, to their father they ran,
And eagerly told him their unselfish plan.
He was proud of his boys, who now felt that same love
That sent our dear Savior from His Home above.

Next morning, still thrilled with their beautiful thought,

They scampered downstairs to see what Santa brought,
And they, with the help of their father and mother,
Selected the presents for Tim and his brother.

And as the first light of dawn came into view
The two went their way with the toys bright and new,

And crept very quietly up to the door
Where they'd seen the boys enter the evening before.

As they hurried back home toward their own Christmas joys,
They could not even dream how the other two boys,
On finding that Santa had really been there,
Sent their joy to the One who had answered their prayer.

That night, when the "Santas" were ready for bed,
With a hand of their father on each curly head,
They knew, as they thought of two poor, happy boys,
What's the truest and choicest of all Christmas joys.

The End


This appears on multiple sites, one of which is True Christmas Joy – All Christmas

 

If you desire to find the true spirit of Christmas and partake of the sweetness of it, let me make this suggestion to you. During the hurry of the festive occasion of this Christmas season, find time to turn your heart to God. Perhaps in the quiet hours, and in a quiet place, and on your knees—alone or with loved ones—give thanks for the good things that have come to you, and ask that His Spirit might dwell in you as you earnestly strive to serve Him and keep His commandments. Howard W. Hunter



~*~*~*~



Let It Be Christmas

performed by Alan Jackson

Let It Be Christmas - YouTube

Let it be Christmas everywhere
In the hearts of all people both near and afar
Christmas everywhere
Feel the love of the season wherever you are
On the small country roads lined with green mistletoe
Big city streets where a thousand lights glow

Let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let every heart sing let every bell ring
The story of hope and joy and peace
And let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let anger and fear and hate disappear
Let there be love that lasts through the year
And let it be Christmas
Christmas everywhere

Let it be Christmas everywhere
With the gold and the silver, the green and the red
Christmas everywhere
In the smiles of all children asleep in their beds
In the eyes of young babies their first fallen snow
Elderlys' memories that never grow old

Let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let every heart sing let every bell ring
The story of hope and joy and peace
And let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let anger and fear and hate disappear
Let there be love that lasts through the year
And let it be Christmas
Christmas everywhere

Let it be Christmas everywhere
In the songs that we sing and the gifts that we bring
Christmas everywhere
In what this day means and what we believe
From the sandy white beaches where blue water rolls
Snow covered mountains and valleys below

Let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let every heart sing let every bell ring
The story of hope and joy and peace
And let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let anger and fear and hate disappear
Let there be love that lasts through the year
And let it be Christmas
Christmas everywhere
Christmas everywhere
Christmas everywhere


~*~*~*~


No-Bake Cookie Clusters


1 c. chunks of chocolate chip cookies
1 c. chopped peanut
1 ½ c. semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 ½ c. peanut butter chips

Combine chips and melt over low heat. Immediately add cookie chunks and nuts. Stir until well coated, then drop by spoonfuls onto wax paper lined cookie sheet.


These cookies can be done with any variety of cookies and chips. It’s super easy for little “helpers.”


~*~*~*~


When we first moved into our home in 1990, I loved the space and the light. There were so many windows! I loved it. There was just a few little problems – there was no lawn, no driveway, no basketball hoop, no flowers and no trees! The next spring, we cut globe willow branches from the man camp. We stuck them in a bucket of water and waited for them to root. Every day I would go out and lift a branch to the top of the water to look for root signs. When the day came that I saw the first little buds, I was so excited and wanted to plant them that day! Dean explained to me that we had to let the roots grow and develop. Later that spring, we planted 3 globe willows, as well as fruit trees, flowers, a garden and grass. My home had a yard! One day, I was outside and thought I saw something move. I looked at one of the globe willows, and there was a swallow perched in it. There was life in my trees! We still have 2 of those trees (One blew over in a wind storm) and there are still birds in them. Yesterday, my path took me on a walk to think about Joseph, and I found myself thinking about my husband. They both did whatever it took to protect and care for their families. Joseph worked with his hands and created beautiful things. Dean works with his hands and creates beautiful things. Joseph moved his family to the deserts of Egypt for safety. Dean moved our family from Idaho to the deserts of Utah so that we could be together and he could provide for us. Joseph returned his family to Palestine and established a home in the farming community of Nazareth. He planted any trees they had, plowed their gardens, and provided homes for God’s creatures. He was a man of faith, who listened to the promptings of the spirit. Dean is a man of faith who tries to do God’s will. Joseph was a man of mystery, we know so little about him. Dean is a quiet man, a good man, and to many, a man of mystery. I have a much better image of Joseph in my mind today. I’m grateful for the hard working, devoted man he was. He was a man worthy to raise the son of God.  Let us look for the Joseph's around us, for men of honor and integrity, to whom God is everything.

 Today I am going to call, or text a shut-in and ask them about their favorite Christmas memories.  ~~ Marilee



~*~*~*~


"It will lose its Christmas"
By Bob Perks

It was magic. The day after Thanksgiving always was more exciting than the big day itself.

It was the day they pulled out the Christmas decorations from the attic. The day Christmas really became a reality.

"Do you remember where we keep them?" the father would ask.

"Are you kidding me? I know exactly where they are!" the young boy shouted.

Then, running up the stairs he headed directly to the far corner. Rummaging through some recently added boxes, pushing aside the bags of summer clothes, he dived into the dim, dark recesses of the storage area.

"Hey, where are you?" Dad asks. It wasn't really that dark. The boy could be seen perfectly well, but Dad played along with the excitement.

Suddenly, the boy popped out with the big plastic Santa face that always hung in the same spot on the porch just to the left of the front door.

"Ho, Ho Ho!" he said. "Have you been good?" the boy said in the deepest voice he could muster.

Dad just laughed and said, "Come on, we've got a lot to do today." This was it. This was a time held precious in the heart of a boy and through the years burned in the memory of the man he was to become.

One by one the boxes were pulled from the attic. It was amazing how so many things were added every year. This was the Christmas house. There was no mistake that Santa loved stopping here each year. It reminded him of home.

Well, that's what the boy decided anyway.

Lights were hung. Garland draped. Paper cut outs adorned the windows and Christmas designs were carefully stenciled to areas surrounding them.

If you remember stenciling you're probably older than you would like to admit.

Oh yes, don't forget the can of spray snow, too.

"Okay, that's it!" Dad said. "Let's put these back in the box. We won't use them this year."

The boy was stunned.

"What...what are you talking about?" he asked.

"We have too many things. We don't need to put everything up," Dad said.

"But, Dad..."

"Come on, that's enough."

"No, wait. You don't understand. This one goes over there, and that always hangs near the back door in the kitchen," the child said. "Not this year," Dad replied.

He then began to carry one of the boxes up the stairs.

The boy rushed to the bottom of the steps and cried out, "You can't put them back. We have to use them. If you don't use them they'll lose their Christmas!" he said with tears gushing from his eyes. The father surprised to see this reaction, stopped and turned towards the boy.


"What? What are you saying?" he asked.

Sniffling as he wiped the tears away, the boy said in a soft mournful tone, "Once you use something for Christmas you have to always use it. If you don't, it will lose its Christmas. Christmas is magic and everything in it becomes magical," he said.

Dad turned around and came back down the steps. Placing the box on the table, he turned and held his son.

"Okay, okay, I didn't know that. We'll put them up," he assured him. I can't say it is a fact. I can't tell you that it's some old world tradition, but it became one that day and remains so to this very day.

The years past and Christmas was celebrated in the same way. That is until 1972. That was the year that home lost its Christmas. It was June and a few months prior the boy's Mom had suffered what appeared to be a stroke. Later the doctors would discover the previously treated breast cancer had spread. His Mom died that June.

He was now 22 and married. Two weeks after her death a flood destroyed much of the memories in that home.

Thanksgiving was non existent. Christmas still a possibility. That is until Dad declared, "There will be no Christmas in this house!"

The boy and his wife were now living there. As much as he loved his mother he believed that her loss had nothing to do with the celebration of the birth of Christ.

"Dad, we need to at least put up the tree," he said one day just two weeks before December 25th.

"No!" Dad responded  "There will be no Christmas here."

Then standing near him, the boy touched his hand and said, "But they will lose their Christmas."

The smallest, almost unnoticeable smile came to Dad's face.

"I lost my Christmas, too."

There was no Christmas in the house that year. Years later, when he sold the house many of the decorations were tossed away.

I know. I was that boy.

Many Christmases have passed since then. Each filled with love, happiness and incredible memories.

If you are struggling with the idea of Christmas. If you are hurting because of the loss of a loved one, the pressures of finances, or simply can't find Christmas, I ask you to reconsider.

Remember the real reason for it. It is not a party. It is not a package under a tree. It is not thing.

It's a holy day. It is a celebration of the birth of the Christ child. It is your acknowledgement of faith in a God Who loves you.

I promise you this. Even if you hide away in your room that day, even if you don't light a candle, hang an ornament, or sing a song, your heart cannot lose its Christmas.

It is and always will be waiting for you.

"I believe in you!"
Bob Perks copyright 2007


I encourage you to share my stories but I do ask that you keep my name and contact information with my work.

If you would like to receive Bob's Inspirational stories, please visit http://www.IWishYouEnough.com and submit your email address