wisdom for a Wednesday...

thoughts for a Tuesday...

You must live in the present,

launch yourself on every wave,

find your eternity in each moment.

Fools stand on their island of opportunities

and look toward another land.

There is no other land; there is no other life but this.
― Henry David Thoreau

 

I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today.

 I can choose which it shall be.

Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet.

I have just one day, today,

and I'm going to be happy in it.
― Groucho Marx

 

Happiness, not in another place but this place...

not for another hour,

but this hour. 
― Walt Whitman

 

 

 

 

 

home...

Oh! bars don't make a cage,
And a home ain't made by walls;
Build a house upon the sand,
And pretty soon it falls.
But nail some boards together,
Make a window and a door,
Fill it full of loved ones,
And it's home forevermore!

~ How's Inky by Sam Campbell

...food for thought (fft)

food for thought...

...finally!

My youngest daughter recently turned 9 years old.

It was a very special day...but, not as special as she is!

You see, on this birthday she received something that she has been waiting for,

probably for her whole entire life.

She got her own brand-new shiny pink bicycle.

A bicycle that she picked out - all by herself!

A bicycle that (although is WAY too big) is PERFECT for her!

A bicycle that was NOT a hand-me-down or a garage sale purchase.

Nope, a thing all her own and the feeling was priceless!

So, as she rode off for the 1st time, I felt a tug at my heart and a smile on my face.

It was a special day, indeed!

One, I feel, she (and I) will NEVER forget.

me and my shadow...

I still hear you humming, Mama. The color of your song calls me home.

The color of your words saying, "Let her be.

She got a right to be different.

She gonna stumble on herself one of these days.

 Just let the child be."

 And I be, Mama.

~Sonia Sanchez

I had the great joy of spending the entire afternoon, yesterday, with just my oldest daughter.

 Just me and her - her and me.

 A rather rare treat - by why?

Why don't we do this more often - I thought, as the beautiful-sunny-February afternoon swept us away. We need to!

We are!

You see, my daughter is growing up. Her wings are starting to spread.

The time we spend together is important - vital!

I love her so much.

 ...my beautiful daughter of mine.

meow meow...



Woody: "Look Jessie, I know you hate me for leaving,

but I have to go back.

I'm still Andy's toy.

Well, if you knew him,

you'd understand. See, Andy's..."

Jessie: "Let me guess.

Andy's a real special kid, and to him,

 you're his buddy,

his best friend,

and when Andy plays with you it's like...

even though you're not moving,

you feel like you're alive,

 because that's how he sees you." ~ Toy Story 2

          
              ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Every time I hear those lines from Toy Story 2, they remind me of my kids and their special toys. Each of my three kids have had (or still do have) their special stuffed toy lovey. But, as they are getting older, their once most-important-thing-in-this-world is not-so-much that, anymore....well except for Meow Meow, that is!


Meow Meow....where do I even start with you?!

 I was walking past the stairway this morning and found my youngest daughters "lovey" perched between the stair rails. Just sitting there; almost like she was just waiting for her mama to come back home from school.  Meow Meow has been a part of my daughters life from almost the time she was born. Almost! Rumor has it that she used to belong to oldest daughter, once upon a time, and was snatched up by youngest daughter! Now, I don't recall this, nor does it really matter at this point in time. All I know is that she has become a constant part of this family and I don't see that changing anytime in the near future.

I can fondly remember my own special lovey, from when I was a girl. I had a Holly Hobby doll that lived, breathed, cried, and slept with me....always! This doll had originally came with beautiful yellow yarn hair and a floral outfit, with matching bonnet.

I can also fondly remember one of our family dogs using Holly as a chew toy from time to time! Her pretty fabric face had been chewed on and her yellow yarn hair completely digested. Towards the end of Holly's life, her pint-sized body (arms and legs -with torso in between) were the only original parts that survived the canine torture days. Her dress and bonnet were a thing of the past- along with her brown tear-soiled face. It was sad, really, looking back now. I have no idea what Holly's final demise was. She is no longer with me: I have no idea how my Mom put her out of her misery. She was loved, though. Loved as much as any little girl could possibly love a piece of stuffed fabric, that somehow came magically alive in my imagination.

So, back to Meow Meow.

I have no idea how long "the magic" of a little girls imagination will continue.. (well, according to my daughter, Meow Meow will be real forever!) And, you know what; why shouldn't she be?  These are the things that true innocence are made of. The love she gives that toy is real! And, whatever comfort she receives back is priceless...

advice to a younger me...

All of us at some point in our lives have wished that we could write a letter to our younger selves. We have wished we could pass on the wisdom we have learned and help them to avoid some of the pain and struggles that we have gone through. I think that my own advice to the younger me would be quite simple. This is what I would say.

Wake up earlier more often and take the time to watch the sun rising over the hills.     

 Bend down to smell the flowers in the Spring.  

      Swim more in the Summer.   Play in the Fall leaves.   

Make snow angels every Winter.  

 Turn the TV off in the afternoon and go play with your dogs instead. 

    Don’t rush through those Sunday family dinners.

Savor every bite of food and joy in them.

Tell your Mom and Grandma you love them everyday and hug them every chance you can.    

Don’t complain about chopping wood with your Dad. Enjoy every moment you have with him.

   And don’t argue so much with your brothers. Life is too short to spend being miserable.

 Stop being so shy. Other people are just like you inside.

     

Smile more. Laugh a lot. Sing often. They are joy creators.

  Share a kind word every chance you get. Give your inner goodness to everyone.

              Don’t worry about the future. Instead enjoy this day God has given you.

Make the time to play with your young children. One day you will blink and they will be as big as you are.

            

            Quit wishing you were rich in money. Yet. rejoice at being rich in heart.

 Realize that happiness is simple. It is we who are complicated.

        

Know in your heart that God loves you just as you are. Know in your heart that you can love too.

      

Then go out and share your love with the world.

 When you do you will have the joy you have always longed for.

How I wish I could give this advice to the younger me, but I can’t. He probably wouldn’t have listened anyway. Still, it isn’t too late to follow this advice today and that is all that matters.

~ Joseph J. Mazzella ~

the good ol' days

This past April 29th was my 41st birthday. Somehow it seems so much older written down! Over those years life sure has changed. I have seen, done, and experienced many "things" that my children will never be able to. Sure, they will have their own share of "things" to look back on. Time seems to be in "fast-forward" lately. The days quickly bring in a new month, and before you know it, the year (that I could hardly grasp in the first place) is gone.  So, as I still have the ability to remember the past, here it goes.

Looking back over my last 40 years, I can remember (some more fondly and vividly than others) “things” from my past that are only just that, things from the past. Let’s think about these things.




I remember…

-When pictures (the ones that used to be developed on film) had those pretty white borders around it. And, if you got really lucky, the date stamp was on it as well! The picture taker really had to plan their shot, since they couldn’t just “delete” an unwanted photo. Also, the age of Polaroid instant pictures was in its hay day. Who can forget that high-pitched clicking sound and ultra bright flash as the picture was being taken. Also, the waving and fanning of the picture as one anxiously waited for it to “magically appear”!

-LP’s, 45’s and that lovely record player. Remember when the store at the mall was actually called a “record store”? The shelves were lined with oodles and oodles of records. You would have to stand there for infinite amounts of time, flipping through each and every one. Once you brought the ‘lucky one’ home, you would line it all up on the turn-table and follow along with the lyrics as you scanned and memorized every inch of the album jacket/cover. My very 1st record was back in the 1970's. It was Grease. Who didn't love that movie! I can't even begin to tell you how many hours I spent listening to that record and gazing at the record jacket. Miss those days! Now, all you get (if you are lucky) is a hard CD plastic shell with a easily scratchable disc inside. Or, since the birth of iTunes, one click and you have your music, but no fancy album cover to galk at. Sad.

-The corded telephone. The other day, as my ten year old daughter was on the phone, I had a vivid flashback to MY days of ‘phone hogging’. We didn’t have the luxury of call waiting, caller ID, or voice mail back then. Remember that annoying busy tone when you would call someone over and over and over again? The cord in our house would only reach so far. Glory was the day when I actually got my own phone in my room. I honestly think I lived on that phone! Today, with texting, Skype, and email, do people even have a home phone anymore (beside me?)

-Pen pals and other hand-written letters. When I was in middle school I had a pen pal in Germany. We met through one of those teeny-bop type magazines. Both her and I LOVED Duran Duran and we wrote (hand written letters on actual paper, with actual stamps, and an actual mail person delivering it) each other. It is a shame that nowadays “the letter” is almost considered a thing of the past. Sad really. Penmanship is going down the tube as is the art of letter writing.

-AM/FM radio. My first experience of a radio was when I was a little kid. The family went to a Christmas party at the Moose Lodge that my dad belonged to. Each child received a gift and mine was a tiny transistor radio. I felt like I struck gold! I took that bad-boy to my “secret place” (up in the branches of the big weeping willow tree in my backyard). There, I would turn that radio on and there my love of music was born. That transistor made way for a Walkman and after that the portable CD player/radio. Now, the teeny tiny iPod is all that is “cool”, but not in my book.

- Actual paper books. I can fondly remember those "library days" when I was a kid. Those were the days that I would have to race through the house trying to find my borrowed library books that needed to be taken back to the library. Those were also the days that I can spend browsing aisle after colorful aisle of endless rows of books. I was, and still am, drawn to a catchy-fun looking book cover. A good illustrated book is priceless in my eyes. Sadly though, with all this new technology, "the book" is being shelved and forgotten about. I, for one, am not taking lightly the new 'readers' out there. I still need to feel the pages of a book in my hands. I need to flip actual paper pages. The library is truly a forgotten gem.

walk to God

I found this story in the magazine my kids get called Take Out. It really has a lot of meaning.

                                                                      

 ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

A man came to this teacher and said: "Teacher, when I was a child I felt very close to God. Now that I am older, it seems as if God has left me, or perhaps it is I who have left. In either case, I feel far away from God. I am not sure what to do."

The teacher answered him: "When you teach a child to walk, at first you stand very close. The child can only take one step, and then you must catch him. But, as he grows, you move farther and farther away, so that he can walk to you. God has not abandoned you. Like a good parent, God has moved farther away, but is still close by, waiting for you. Now you must learn to walk to God."

how do I love thee...

Love doesn't make the world go round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile.
Franklin P. Jones

It is February 14, Valentine's Day. For some people the day is all about roses and candy. But, for others, it is just another "Hallmark" holiday..one that card companies just gobble up. My thoughts on the day fall somewhere between in a subtle mix of the two. I have heard that the oldest recorded greeting card is from the 1400's... a paper Valentine. Still to this day, 2011, it is a favorite for me in this household!

Just this morning my eleven year old son came up to me in the kitchen. He threw a colored heart folded in half on the counter where I was standing. He quickly started to walk away. No words spoken. I immediately opened the heart to find a beautifully decorated Valentine! Inside in neatly handwritten letters read, "Happy Valentine's Day. Have a great day. Love, Andriejus" I made a huge fuss: ran up to him and gave him a giant hug and kiss. I gushed about how beautiful it was, as he gave me a half-worked smile, knowing he felt pleased and appreciated. That handmade card was a special thing for me. They always have been and they always will!

My youngest two daughters had already given me their Valentines. We were recently at a restaurant eating when a nice, older lady approached our table. She invited the girls up to a table she had set up with all sorts of papers, stickers, and other various crafty do-dads. She told the girls they can each make their mother a special Valentine. They, of course, jumped at this! In a few minutes time I was presented, table-side, with two very beautiful crafted Valentines. Similar, yet very different with each girls own personal style. The Valentine's featured colorful papers, doilies, and a center-piece made from gluing down a foil-wrapped chocolate heart. Both girls were so proud as they presented me with their masterpieces! I got a bit teary-eyed as I saw the love that was poured onto those paper hearts. I began to think ahead to those days when my kids will no longer be kids. The paper Valentine's will come fewer and farther between. I relish in these years while I can. They are special times and I will always treasure these little handmade love notes, forever.

alaska bound

To the lover of wilderness, Alaska is one of the most wonderful countries in the world. ~John Muir
Have you ever had a dream as a young child? One that you may have even wrote down in a journal, complete with hand-scrawled pictures drawn with pencil? Well, I have and it is only finger-tips away from becoming reality!

You see, when I was younger, for some reason, I had wanted to go to Alaska. Why? I have NO idea! My parents never talked of going there. I have never known anyone who had gone there. I just, for some reason, loved the idea of the vast land, brilliant nature, and plentiful wildlife, that inhibits our great 49th state..or the "last frontier" of Alaska.
Throughout the years I have been reminded time and time again of how my longing to visit this state has not dimmed down by any means. It was not until a couple of years ago that my family and I were on the Mackinac bridge, somewhere between the upper and lower peninsulas of Michigan, that the feeling of "wanting to visit Alaska" came rushing back! We spotted a rather large RV, emblazoned with all sorts of hand-written signs all over it. It appeared to be a family from Alaska that was traveling around the country. They even had a website made, just for this family's traveling adventures. I tried looking up that website not too long ago and it no longer is around. Just the sight, though, of that Alaska license plate stirred up my longing-to-visit feeling all over.
Well, this year my "Alaska dream" is becoming a reality! My sister-in-law just so happens to work for Alaska Airlines and we are getting a chance of a lifetime to visit this coming summer. Upon doing research, though, this state is bigger and mightier than I once suspected. The travel guides and vast internet information is completely overwhelming! The possibilities are truly endless as far as the"what's" and "where's" are concerned.
The first order of business was trying to figure out when we are going. Late August was decided. Next, where and what we wanted to do. I asked each family member "what" they would like to see and do once we get there. Things range from: gold mining, dog mushing, kayaking, whale watching. We know we are flying into and out of Anchorage. As far as all the "in betweens", it is completely up in the air! Musts are: Denali and Mt. McKinley (the highest peak in North America), Fairbanks, the North Pole (yes, really!), Palmer (for the Alaska State Fair), Seward (whale watching).
We have also decided that renting a small RV is the route we want to take. After adding up the cost of a rental car, hotel/motels, 3-meals-a-day at restaurants, it was a more economical choice. Neither of us have ever drove a RV before, so this should be interesting! The plan now is to secure reservations for various activities: bus ride through Denali, date to dog mush, etc. Since I am not a real "planner", this task is the hardest part of me. Since we will be in Alaska in "high tourist season" I have read that this is a "must".
So with much to still do, I look forward to a week of "living the dream!" Until then I guess I have to come back down to reality.

the man

"Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God's kindness: kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile."
~Mother Teresa

It never ceases to amaze me how it is sometimes the unexpected, random encounters with strangers that teach me the greatest lessons. I had one of those so-called meetings yesterday, and of all places in a Meijer grocery store.

Usually when I go grocery shopping I am the type of person that likes to go in, zone people out, and get my mission accomplished. I am not there to graze for hours. I am not there to chit-chat and "hope" to run into a ton of acquaintances. The quicker the better for me. It is not that I am "anti-people", it is just I have had my share of odd strangers approach me with uncomfortable comments and I just choose to bypass that. But, not yesterday.

I was in the hardware area of the store. I was looking for one of those orange poles that one uses to stick in the snow, to let the snowplow know where "not" to plow! I found them and was putting one in my cart when I could hear someone approaching me from behind. My initial thought was to quickly finish what I was doing and get the heck out of there, before the stranger could fully emerge. Too late! I could hear the sound of shuffling feet, and a distorted voice talking, saying something, to me! It was at this moment I knew I had a choice. I could either be rude and say nothing and walk away. Or, I could stay there and be kind, listening to what was to come next. Well, I had just come from mass at church, so I chose the latter.

I turned my head to hear a man. He was short and a bit stocky. His mouth was twisted, disfigured from some sort of issue. I had to move in a bit to hear what he was saying. He was laughing and asked me if I was looking for a sweater!! (Huh??) Caught completely off guard, I answered back "no" , and told him how I was needing one of those orange sticks so I don't get stuck in the snow. We started a conversation on the topic. His reply was muffled by his hearty laugh. He proceeded to tell me how he was just kidding and he just wanted to make me laugh, which he did! He said, "See! I made you laugh! That is all I wanted to do." He then went on to say, "if my wife was here, OH! She would be jabbing me in the ribs and telling me to stop! She always believes I joke around too much and bother people. " And then he added! "But, she can't be here now, because she passed away." The conversation came to an end and the old man continued on his way, shuffling his feet and slowly pushing his cart. He then added with a cheerful laugh, "have a great day, young lady! I am glad I could make you smile", and he disappeared down an aisle. I offered the same back to him, but at the same time was choked up by what had just occurred.

I literally stood there for a minute and had to hold back my tears. I realized at that moment that by just taking the time, a few precious minutes out of my rushed day, I made someones life a bit more complete. As random and simple as it was, it changed something in me. I was saddened by this man's lose of a spouse, how he has to be alone now. But, I was in awe of his sense of happiness and continued efforts to make others (strangers) smile and bring joy to them.

The rest of my day was focused on "that man" and my new life lesson.

no one will ever know...

No One Will Ever Know

By Janet Seever

Karen, Judy, and I were the last ones back in the schoolroom after lunch. We put our metal lunch boxes on the shelf above the coat hooks, which were mostly empty. All of the other sixth graders were already outside, playing marbles or hopscotch or jumping rope, since it was a pleasant spring day.

"Look what I found this morning in the storage cupboard when I was getting out some art supplies for Mrs. Eiffler." With a conspiratorial grin on her face, Karen held up a wooden box filled with short pieces of chalk in every color of the rainbow.

"Wow! What fun it would be to write on the chalkboard while everyone is outside." Judy's eyes twinkled with anticipation.

"But Mrs. Eiffler doesn't want us writing on the chalkboard," I responded, already feeling guilty, although we had not yet done a thing.

"Don't be such a 'fraidy cat', Janet. No one will ever know," Karen, reaching into the box and drawing out a piece of chalk.

"Right. Everyone is outside, so we're safe. No one will tell on us." Judy was already drawing a house with sure strokes.

I reluctantly joined my friends in the artwork, wanting to be part of what was going on, but afraid of being caught. I knew well that we were breaking not one, but two class rules. The second rule was that no one was allowed to stay inside at noon without a written excuse from home if the weather was nice.

Trying various colors, we drew houses, trees and three-dimensional boxes. It was fun! All the time we were watching the clock, knowing that our fun would be over if anyone walked into the room.

Then Judy had an idea. "We're all right-handed. Let's see who can write their name the best using their left hand."

Judy and Karen picked up their chalk and started writing. I chose a white piece from the box and wrote my name. The handwriting was a bit shaky, but no one would doubt that it said "Janet."

I think Judy is the winner, "said Karen. "Hers is the best."

"We'd better get this board cleared off before Mrs. Eiffler comes back," said Judy, eying the clock. She picked up an eraser and began erasing our handiwork from the board.

Everything came off...but my name!

In disbelief, I looked at the chalk I held in my sweaty hand. On closer examination, it wasn't chalk at all. I had picked up a small piece of white color crayon which was mixed with the pieces of chalk.

My stomach churned and my knees felt weak. What would Mrs. Eiffler do with me?

My mother had a saying: "Fools names and fools faces always appear in public places." I never fully understood what it mean before. Now I did! I was a fool, and there was my name in crayon to prove it. And the teacher would be returning soon.

"Quick, let's get some wet paper towels," said Judy, springing into action.

After vigorous rubbing, my name still remained.

"I think I saw a can of cleanser by the sink in the coat room," I said as I raced to find it. Precious minutes were ticking away.

We rubbed and my name came off all right, but in the process of removing it, we left an abrasion on the chalkboard.

Listening for footsteps coming down the hall, we dried the scrubbed area as much as we could with more paper towels and fanned it with a book to remove every tell-tall trace of wetness.

We were just slipped into our desks as the bell rang and the other students began entering the room. The teacher in soon afterward.

Mrs. Eiffler never asked about the abrasion and maybe never noticed it. But I did. Every time I walked past the marred surface of the chalkboard, I remembered. Oh, how I remembered.

The lesson I learned that day is one I never forgot, even though over forty years have passed since the event. "No one will ever know" is never true. Even if no one else found out, Jesus knew and I knew. Sometimes living with a guilty conscience is punishment enough.

yes, Virginia

Recently, I asked my 11 year old son to make up his Christmas wish list. Looking at me with a half-smile, he proceeded to ask me, "Mom! Just tell me! There is no Santa, right?" With a tug at my heart-strings, I gave my usual response, "those who believe, receive!" I left it at that.
Just the other day, though, the old familiar, "Yes, Virginia.." letter came to mind. I found it and I think I am going to print it out and share it with my son.
Never stop believing!

Eight-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of New York's Sun, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial Sept. 21, 1897. The work of veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church has since become history's most reprinted newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies, and other editorials, and on posters and stamps
"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
"Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
"Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.'
"Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

"VIRGINIA O'HANLON.
"115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET."

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

We worry about what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today. ~Stacia Tauscher

Yesterday I was at the movie theater with my three kids (a pretty rare thing!) I am not a "movie mom". Somehow going to the movies never made it big on my list of "have-to's, should's or must's". But, there was a free family film going on and so to the movies we went! It really didn't even matter that the movie was "ah, not so great", it was just nice to be there, doing something with my kids. As I was sitting next to youngest daughter, she got scared at one point during the movie. She reached over, grabbed my hand and leaned into me. It was then that I had one of those "flash forward" moments. My girl is growing up! As I sat there holding her hand I thought about how, not in the too distant future, she will be going to the movies with her friends, alone! This will make way for "date nights" with boys, and the hand I am now holding will be taken over by someone else she may love. I sat there, in that theater, not really paying too much attention to the story on the screen. But rather, I sat there and pondered how so very quickly life is passing me by! The story on the movie screen would soon come to an end, but my "story" will continue and grow. It's a never ending story, really. I just need to learn to sit back, try to relax, and enjoy the show.

good-bye my FRIEND

Auld Lang Syne

Should old acquaintance be forgot,and never brought to mind ? Should old acquaintance be forgot,and old lang syne ?

For auld lang syne, my dear,for auld lang syne,we'll take a cup of kindness yet,for auld lang syne.

And surely you'll buy your pint cup !and surely I'll buy mine !And we'll take a cup o' kindness yet,for auld lang syne.

We two have run about the slopes,and picked the daisies fine ;But we've wandered many a weary foot,since auld lang syne.

We two have paddled in the stream,from morning sun till dine† ;But seas between us broad have roaredsince auld lang syne.

And there's a hand my trusty friend !And give us a hand o' thine !And we'll take a right good-will draught,for auld lang syne.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

What a ride, 2009 was! What a year. As the last year of this decade comes near to a close, I want to wish you ALL a very blessed, happy, fruitful, abundant, and much love filled 2010.

May you travel much. Explore! Never cease to wander out and find adventure every day of your life. Many memories are created in a simple drive, a walk through the woods, or a stroll on a new-found beach.

Love fully. Make each day a positive, new, happy day. Let love be seen and felt by everyone you meet.

Trust. God has a plan for everyone of us. Trust Him and it shall be revealed, in His time.

Peace!

The Little Boy and the Old Man by Shel Silverstein

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."Said the old man, "I do that too.

"The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants.""I do that too," laughed the little old man.

Said the little boy, "I often cry."The old man nodded, "So do I."

"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seemsGrown-ups don't pay attention to me."

And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand."I know what you mean," said the little old man.

hello again!

As we were putting up the family Christmas tree, pulling out the ga-zillions of ornaments, it was so great to see all the ornaments my mom had bought/saved from me when I was a kid. Every year my mom would buy my sister, brother, and I, a new ornament. She always said that when we got older we would really appreciate them. Now I finally get it!
How simple a thing an ornament really is. Maybe it is colorful glass. Perhaps wood or plastic. String, yarn, or fabric. What struck me though, as I stand and look at my past on that present Christmas tree, is each and every ornament could bring me back to a different time. A different story could be told in the year that ornament was given to me. Or, when I was in kindergarten and I made that silly Santa ornament out of red and white strings. What was once silly is now special. The point is, my mom saved those silly ornaments for me to one day value and truly get the meaning of them. I get it!
Each year on the eve of December 5th, Mikulás Day (St. Nicholas' Day), traditionally celebrated in Czechoslovakia, we would put out our Christmas stockings and if we were good, in the morning they would be filled with candy and other kinds of treats. I don't believe I had ever received a piece of coal! As our children put out their own Christmas stockings for Mikulás Day, they usually will receive candy and treats as well..along with a new Christmas ornament to put on the tree. Our kids have quite a nice collection so far and they enjoy finding them each year as we put the tree up again. It is funny to see the Clifford, Thomas the Tank Engine and all the other childhood characters re-emerge again!
It is never too late to start a new family tradition, I feel. In years from now as your child is standing in front of their own family Christmas tree, how they will be able to look back and reminisce of their own childhood. A truly special childhood, indeed.