Tag Archives: Children

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Genuine Greetings of the Season

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Whenever the media or friends discuss the war on Christmas these thoughts come to mind…….

I often wonder if “political correctness” is blamed for the decline in “Christmas” because Christians avoid looking at themselves and asking if they are teaching “Christmas” or teaching something else. It is easy to get fired up at the “attacks” but much harder to recognize that “Christmas” doesn’t just happen because you buy a tree and make cookies.

I really don’t think the lack of a nativity at the court house or public building will adversely affect my family, but the lack of one in my home certainly will. While it is sad to see public display of the holiday diminish, I do try to keep in mind that it is the traditions we make at home and share with our family and friends that count. I also remind myself that Hollywood’s version of Christmas is a rather new version and that the fundamentals of Christmas count more than how Hollywood defined Christmas to our parents and grandparents.

Whether I say Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, or Season’s Greetings, I am wishing a person the best. Christ is only removed from Christmas when I forget to include him in my life, not when others exclude him from theirs. I would hope I live in such a way that people will still know I am Christian even when I wish them Happy Holidays. If nothing else, I hope they at least see the kindness in me when I wish them happiness.

A wish of cheer, in any form, is the message that carries on even after the lights and the tinsel get packed away for another year. Christ will never be removed from Christmas as long as well-wishers genuinely wish each other glad tidings at least once a year. This is part of the magic of the season; this genuine wish for blessings and cheer to be the companion of others. The Bleak Midwinter is replaced by a White Christmas the moment when a genuine greeting brightens someone’s day.

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Joy to the World or Blue Christmas?

My Christmas Letter for 2012…

Christmas time can be a time of contradiction. Even while we celebrate the joys of the season, we often struggle with melancholy memories of days gone by, of family no longer with us, or of worldly troubles. This is not a new struggle, song writers have written many tunes of longing and wishes for family, home, and peace.

Traditions of the Christmas Season help us hold on to better times; times of our childhood before we became aware of the melancholy struggles so many face each year. Grandma’s chocolate chip cookies still are a prerequisite for me.  While grandma was still alive, I spent time learning to reproduce her cookie. After she passed on, I made it my goal to send cookies each Christmas to my grandfather and close family each year.

As a child, I was under the impression that my mother did not like frosted sugar cookies because she so seldom made them.  Actually she loved them; she just did not like to make the mess. As soon as I learned this, I added frosted sugar cookies to the list of must haves in the Christmas parcels. Just last night we, my husband, children and I, frosted the cookies. Rather than admit to having fun, the boys take the attitude of grouchy bears. It is funny how traditions start, even the tradition of acting grumpy while frosting cookies; a tradition started when mom was able to frost with more flare than dad. It is funny how a fake tantrum by dad years ago aimed at helping the kids accept their limitations has now become the tradition, at least for the men at the table.

Homemade jams and jellies were the constant in my childhood home. Even after my mom stopped making them, grandma kept us supplied. Gifts of jelly have saved many a Christmas when the pocket book was limited but the friends were abundant. Jalapeño Bread soon joined the jelly and is now a favorite as well. My son has taken over the making of the jelly and the bread, but soon his sister will need to step in and not long after that, mom will have to return as the Christmas head chef.

Life does not stand still, and Christmas time reflects the changes of time. Years ago we would send four or five boxes of goodies to family each Christmas, but now we only have one box to prepare. In what seems like a blink of an eye, the family has grown small. Death is part of life but so is marriage and children. One day the family will be back to growing rather than shrinking and Christmas packages will again be numerous.

I really look forward to the Christmases where little pajamas are made by grandma in addition to the adult sized ones being made by mom. These are the visions that dance though my head as I prepare for this Christmas. The dreams of the future coupled with memories of the past make Christmas my favorite time of the year.

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I would be remiss in my ramblings if I didn’t also include mention of the joys of Christmas present.  There is such a wonderful quality about the time spent with one’s children, time keeping up the traditions of their youth. Sewing the pajamas and Christmas clothing with your daughter or baking holiday treats with your son are truly blessed moments, but the best tradition is decorating the tree. Each year we gather together to unwrap the ornament collection, reminiscing on when each ornament was received and remarking on our favorites. Over the years the kids have grown older and taller and need no assistance reaching the highest branches. During this same passage of time, my husband and I have grown to resemble Mr. and Mrs. Clause a bit more. This was not my husband’s desire but a reality I don’t mind at all, at least not in December.  So in honor of our growing resemblance to the jolly North Pole couple, we (meaning me) have decided to begin sending Christmas greetings once again.

Our wish to you during this Christmas Season is that you will always find the comfort of the Savior in your lives, and that His presence will help you through the melancholy as well as the joys of life.

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Relief and Sorrow

A brief glance at the morning news feed indicated another tragedy but no details, so work resumed and ignorance was bliss.  A return to Facebook a few hours later revealed the missing details of a terrible tragedy.  My first desperate thought was of a friend who lived in Connecticut, a friend with small children. With breath caught in my chest, I quickly checked her profile, bursting into relief filled tears as I read her post declaring the safety of her family. She declared their safety with the simple statement, “I want to go pick up my children from school and hug them right now.”

As I was consumed with great relief another emotion tore at me – sorrow.  Sorrow for the families who could not hug their children, not today or ever again in this lifetime.  I felt so wretched with these conflicting emotions and sought comfort through hugging my own children. Truthfully, I think they hugged me for they are young and strong and I was so weak from shock and sorrow.

It does not take much for fatigue to overwhelm me.  Sorrow certainly brings on fatigue.  As I sought the solace of a nap, I prayed that upon awaking I would feel a measure of peace return.  This picture greeted me as I returned to the world and left the protection of slumbers solitude behind. While I ache deeply for the parents who cannot hug their children, I feel peace knowing the children, young or old, are in His embrace.Hug

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Music of the Season – Seeking Joy

Now that Halloween is over I can listen to Holiday Music again. (I say Holiday because I love Winter Music as well as Christmas Music.)

I figure the more happy music I listen to the more of the ugliness of the world I can tune out. Not ignore the world, but just buffer myself from it.

I believe completely in being informed, reading and researching and learning, but I also believe I must actively seek joy rather than waiting for someone find it for me.

Happiness does not come from ignorance, but from knowledge. Knowledge is not always pleasant, but understanding is the first step to doing something, making a change.

Winter Music, Holiday Music and Christmas Music simply makes the doing so much more fun. Whether it is service for others or simply cleaning my own house, the quest for joy can be just a melody away.

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Why I write…

Why do we write in blogs, journals, or memoirs? Is it because we like to see our ideas take shape, or think our messages are profound or revolutionary? Or do we simply write with the hope that they will have value today or tomorrow, have value to or for someone we will probably never meet?

A few weeks ago, a professor asked the question of why should we study history, but the real question, for me at least, is why do we write history? Why do we write our own history in our blogs, journals, and memoirs, a written record of our thoughts and actions? I think we write for three reasons. The first, we hope we are interesting and hope our activities will be of interest to others. The second, we hope that by writing our experiences down, we will learn lessons from our experiences and maybe others will learn from us as well. Third, we do not want to forget our experiences or be forgotten.

These are all valid reasons to write, but a great man taught me one other reason to write. He taught me that we can serve others through our writing, through our research, and through our records. Not just through the lessons or experiences we share, but through the lives of others we preserve through written record.

This great man, great to me at least, passed away two days ago. He had dedicated his retired years to gathering and recording history; specifically the history of his ancestors. Through his work, volumes of information became available to his relatives and to the public. He was never famous and never sought fame, but in certain circles, he was well known and well loved. Most of the histories he wrote were the histories of others, but upon his family’s request he wrote of his own youth and of his experiences as a World War Two POW. When he wrote of his journey in life, it was not to gain fame or attention, but simply to leave a record; a humble record of a man who spent his life serving. Through his life, he served his family, his faith, and his nation.

He set the bar high for those of us who follow, but in doing so he taught us the value of service and the blessings that service brings to our fellow man, to our family, and to ourselves. For in blessing others, he was truly blessed; in loving others he was loved in return.

So why do I write, simply put, to emulate in my own way a great man – I write with an attempt to serve others.

A Great-Uncle and a Great Man!

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Saith Me… The Insanity of Illness

Possibly the worst thing about illness (besides the illness itself) is that while you lie in bed you feel as if you can take on the world. Then you stand up and reality sets in reminding you that you feel crappy. To add insult to injury, that is usually when your kids begin laughing at your patheticness and tell you to go back to bed.

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Embracing Identity Through The Written Word

To most of the world, my son seems sullen and distant, but he deeply loves mankind and mourns for their troubles. His sullen appearance is just the outward refection of his deep concerns for the sorrows of man and his passionate desire to assist the downtrodden.

To most of the world, my daughter is sweet and domestic, but she is the ferocious defender the weak. If there is a crusade to join, an injustice to correct, my daughter’s dimples and giggles are quickly replaced by a threatening growl and a merciless strike.

The world seldom sees my children’s true nature, for in their youth they still hide their identity, feeling it offers them protection.  But every so often they let down their guard and the world sees their nature. Often it is through their writings.

Teaching my children to write has been my goal, not simply for the normal communication reasons, but because writing is an outlet for them to freely express their nature. My son has learned to share ideas, life lessons, and words of compassion through writing. My daughter has learned to replace her fists with words. They are young and their skills are still in need of refining, but when their causes are just, their skills show a refinement beyond their age.

My job has not been to give them an identity, but allow them to find and embrace their own.  This week they have both proven they have learned from me, but are not restricted by me. This makes me at peace.

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We Need a Hero

I went to bed last night thinking how sad it is the way people go about fitting in with a crowd, often putting down others to do so.  Popularity is a mighty strong enticement for our youth.  We try to teach them to ‘be themselves’ and not copy the behavior of others.

As adults, do we follow the same advice?  In our attempts to gain the favor of one group, do we feel we must offend someone else?

As youth, our influence on others is often limited, either by locale or by relative anonymity, but our adult influence is often greater than we realize.

It is probably safe to say that we all slip-up time to time by putting down others in order to fit in with a crowd, but do we take the time to rectify our actions?  When we get caught, do we apologize? Do we do the very thing we ask our children to do?  Or do we feel we are justified in our speech or actions more than our children are?

During an election, much will be said that will irritate others.  Much will be said for the shear campaign value of it.  This is, and has been, part of our political culture, but is there a line we cross when we move from putting down our opponent and instead put down our opponent’s followers, the very people we want to represent?

While Mitt Romney is the latest to be called out for this, by no means is he the first to attempt gaining favor of a smaller group of citizens by insulting a larger group. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I am going to conclude that if one of his children or grandchildren acted in a similar manner, he would require them to make amends.  This is probably the greatest reason for my sadness today.  For as a fellow Christian, especially as a fellow Mormon, and certainly as a fellow citizen, I recognize most of us make mistakes such as Romney’s, and most of us struggle to make amends.

The expectation of doing what is right should be an equal expectation placed on all of us, but sometimes I wonder if it is of greater importance for those with a greater audience to hold a higher standard of themselves than they might expect of others.  Making mistakes is part of human nature, but amending one’s mistakes is somewhat divine. It shows greater character and a greater humility.  It should not be seen as a weakness, while often it is labeled as such by detractors.  But these same detractors are the ones who would require we gain their favor by insulting and offending in the first place.

So I went to bed last night feeling sad, but this morning I woke up with a song running through my head, a song that says, “I need a hero!”  Maybe instead of counting the number of mistakes a person makes in their life, we should spend more time evaluating their reaction once they have made a mistake. For a hero is not a perfect person, but is rather a humble person willing to serve others and who attempts to make amends for their mistakes. For while they may often seem to fall short of our standards, they should never fall short of their standards without making amends.

Other YouTube versions of Holding Out For A Hero:

Shrek Version

Tribute for Peace (this one chokes me up, but it is a must see)

If anyone can find a link to the Paramount VHS promo, the romantic one not the violent one, could you please share it with me.