It's Christmas Eve Honey.
The rest are sleeping as I sit here on my bed watching the snow fall down and knowing if you were here, you would be out on your Massey Fergeson tractor digging everyone out.
As I sit here, I ponder how life led us to a little run-down house in Moose Creek, Alaska where I would lose you. We certainly went on a jouney in our lives didn't we, Honey.
I have been reading a book by George Anderson a medium/author who talks about what spirits have to say about earth life. They say that "falling down" is an important part of living and it is the "falling down" that determines what we are really made of. When we fall down, do we get back up and start again or do we stay down. George Anderson says that when the world pulls the rug out from under your feet and you go down, it is because you were not on the right road in the first place; the road you were meant to travel. So life forces you to get back up and take another route.
I wish God would have just given us a GPS because oh my gosh we kept having the rug pulled out from under us, didn't we. We'd get back up and dust ourselves off and start once again and take off with determination and optimism and "POW!" we'd go down once more. Now, as I think back on it, I find it funny. But by darn Honey, we kept getting up didn't we. We didn't let things keep us down for long.
I guess there were lessons we needed to learn from financially losing everything we worked so hard for---twice. But Honey, now that I look back on it, it wasn't so bad because we were allowed to keep intact those things that were truly important, truly of worth. Our family circle stayed tightly knit. We stuck together like we were bound with super glue. And through it all, we kept our love. Yes, we lost our houses (two of them) but we never once lost our homes. My home was wherever it was that you were and your's was where I was. What a gift we were given.
So as I sit here missing you this Christmas Eve, I want to thank you for the important gifts you gave me each and every Christmas. Thank you for loving me, for being true to me. Thank you for my children and my darling, thank you for my memories.
Merry Christmas Honey.
Far Beyond the 12th of Never.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Saturday, December 22, 2012
The Christmas Star
The Christmas Star
Copyright 1996-Susie Whiting
Once upon a time
so very long ago
there was a little star in heaven
that had just a little glow.
The other stars laughed at him
they said it wasn't right
that he was there in the heaven's sky
when he didn't give much light.
The little star grew so sad
he felt his heart would break in two
so he asked his God in heaven
"Please tell me what to do.
How can I shine more glorious?
How can I grow more light
so I can be important and
light up the heaven's night.
He heard his Father speak to him;
a kind and gentle voice above.
"The secret little star of mine
is to love and love and love."
"Oh God my Father tell me
is that all that I must do?
Then it will be real easy then
I'll just love all as I love you.
Heavenly Father smiled at him
"Don't worry little son
if you love all, as you love me
for you a glorious time will come.
Years and years came and passed
and the little star did love.
His little light grew and grew
he was the brightest star above.
Then one blessed evening
so very long ago,
the little star was chosen
to cast its wondrous glow
over a little town called Bethlehem
above a lowly stall
to proclaim the birth of Christ the Lord
the newborn King of All.
Copyright 1996-Susie Whiting
Once upon a time
so very long ago
there was a little star in heaven
that had just a little glow.
The other stars laughed at him
they said it wasn't right
that he was there in the heaven's sky
when he didn't give much light.
The little star grew so sad
he felt his heart would break in two
so he asked his God in heaven
"Please tell me what to do.
How can I shine more glorious?
How can I grow more light
so I can be important and
light up the heaven's night.
He heard his Father speak to him;
a kind and gentle voice above.
"The secret little star of mine
is to love and love and love."
"Oh God my Father tell me
is that all that I must do?
Then it will be real easy then
I'll just love all as I love you.
Heavenly Father smiled at him
"Don't worry little son
if you love all, as you love me
for you a glorious time will come.
Years and years came and passed
and the little star did love.
His little light grew and grew
he was the brightest star above.
Then one blessed evening
so very long ago,
the little star was chosen
to cast its wondrous glow
over a little town called Bethlehem
above a lowly stall
to proclaim the birth of Christ the Lord
the newborn King of All.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Christmas Peace
Christmas Peace
Copyright 1996 - Susie Whiting
In a little town in Europe
in 1942
Lay a world at war, no peace in store
There was no hope in view.
In a war-torn cottage she lived alone.
Death and grief lay all around.
Her home stood amid the rubble
of a devastated town.
Within her walls two soldiers sat.
Their guns lay by their side.
Nervously they waited.
They were the Allied side.
A table was set before them.
She'd share her meager meal.
It was Christmas Eve. She knew Christ's love
and this would be His will.
A knock, a pound came at her door.
The two men jumped up in fear.
She raised her hand and bid them calm.
They would not find trouble here.
As she unlatched her door, two Nazi's stood,
stern but very young.
She bid them enter her humble home.
Would they please lay down their gun?
For it was Christmas Eve and for this night
Christ was commander here.
The world at war was left outside her door.
The four men met and felt no fear.
It was Christmas Eve as four young men
sat their differences aside.
They shared a meal blessed by God's will
and each felt peace that night.
They slept the four, upon her floor
and as the morn brought Christmas light,
shook hands and bid a sad farewell
they were friends not foe in fight.
"Twas Christmas Eve not so long ago
that the spirit of Christ reigned true.
God grand us all the peace that lived
in that cottage in '42.
Copyright 1996 - Susie Whiting
In a little town in Europe
in 1942
Lay a world at war, no peace in store
There was no hope in view.
In a war-torn cottage she lived alone.
Death and grief lay all around.
Her home stood amid the rubble
of a devastated town.
Within her walls two soldiers sat.
Their guns lay by their side.
Nervously they waited.
They were the Allied side.
A table was set before them.
She'd share her meager meal.
It was Christmas Eve. She knew Christ's love
and this would be His will.
A knock, a pound came at her door.
The two men jumped up in fear.
She raised her hand and bid them calm.
They would not find trouble here.
As she unlatched her door, two Nazi's stood,
stern but very young.
She bid them enter her humble home.
Would they please lay down their gun?
For it was Christmas Eve and for this night
Christ was commander here.
The world at war was left outside her door.
The four men met and felt no fear.
It was Christmas Eve as four young men
sat their differences aside.
They shared a meal blessed by God's will
and each felt peace that night.
They slept the four, upon her floor
and as the morn brought Christmas light,
shook hands and bid a sad farewell
they were friends not foe in fight.
"Twas Christmas Eve not so long ago
that the spirit of Christ reigned true.
God grand us all the peace that lived
in that cottage in '42.
A Letter to Danny - December 21, 2012
Hi Honey:
This morning is one of those times that I'm not coping very well. Strange how that is. I go through the motions of living, and then all of a sudden missing you is so strong I almost become immobile. I woke this morning missing just feeling your arms around me. How I would love to have you hold me. It is one of those things I could never have realized I would miss so much...a hug.
When you held me, I wasn't alone in this world. You and I could face anything...together. I can't feel your arms around me now. I close my eyes and I try to recapture those times. At the door in the morning as you left to go to work and you would put your arms around me. Sitting next to you on the couch watching TV and you would put your arm around me. I can even hear you say to me "Come over here and hold me for a minute." It was important to you too wasn't it Honey. Your arms are gone now. I can't walk into them and feel them enclose me as my cheek laid against your chest and the smell of your Old Spice created memories in my mind.
I wish there was a way to recapture all the hugs; store them in a box and take one out everyday and wrap it around me like a warm blanket. "If wishes were fishes we'd all have a fry."
I miss you Honey.
I love you
Far Beyond the 12th of Never.
This morning is one of those times that I'm not coping very well. Strange how that is. I go through the motions of living, and then all of a sudden missing you is so strong I almost become immobile. I woke this morning missing just feeling your arms around me. How I would love to have you hold me. It is one of those things I could never have realized I would miss so much...a hug.
When you held me, I wasn't alone in this world. You and I could face anything...together. I can't feel your arms around me now. I close my eyes and I try to recapture those times. At the door in the morning as you left to go to work and you would put your arms around me. Sitting next to you on the couch watching TV and you would put your arm around me. I can even hear you say to me "Come over here and hold me for a minute." It was important to you too wasn't it Honey. Your arms are gone now. I can't walk into them and feel them enclose me as my cheek laid against your chest and the smell of your Old Spice created memories in my mind.
I wish there was a way to recapture all the hugs; store them in a box and take one out everyday and wrap it around me like a warm blanket. "If wishes were fishes we'd all have a fry."
I miss you Honey.
I love you
Far Beyond the 12th of Never.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Jakob
Jakob
Copyright 1996 - Susie Whiting
His name was Jakob, forever crippled he'd been,
the son of a widow who worked in the inn.
As darkenss crept in, the roof would his bed keep
and the heavens would hear as he fell off to sleep.
"If it be not much trouble, it would bring me much joy,
if you could just make me a normal boy."
"Jakob, awake!" He heard the voice say.
"Jakob arise! Go fluff up the hay
Jakob, awake!" He heard the voice call.
"Jakob away and prepare thee a stall."
He opened his eyes to find no one around.
He picked up his crutch and struggled to ground.
He heard beautiful music--soft in the air
and followed its song 'til a manger was there.
He did what was told by the voice in the night
and prepared he the manger 'til all was just right.
He heard someone coming. He slipped out out away.
The man carried the woman and set her down in the hay.
and in only a while he heard the sweet lullaby
as she sang in response to her baby's first cry.
Then up in the heavens he heard angels sing
in praise of the birth of a Heavenly King.
Shepherds bore witness, wisemen adored
as they brought in fine gifts to give the new Lord.
Jakob gazed on and caught Mary's eye.
"Come closer my son. You've no need to be shy.
Come close here beside me. Would you like to see too?
Come see my baby. He'd love to see you."
She drew back the blanket from the Babe's holy face.
Jakob leaned down and kissed the cheek 'neath the lace.
Jakob loved the wee babe as he loved not before.
He knew he'd never be able to love any more.
A tear found his eye and then fell to his cheek.
He whispered to Mary in a voice frail and weak.
"I own not a gift to give to your Child."
He continued to whisper in a tone meek and mild.
"I own not a thing, not even a toy.
All I own is a crutch of a not normal boy."
Then Mary replied "Your crutch will be fine.
Remember dear Jakob in our Father's own time,
All will rejoice and all will find joy
that they too were loved by a not normal boy."
Jakob laid his crutch down, kissed the Christ Child once more
and found himself normal as he ran t'ward the door.
Copyright 1996 - Susie Whiting
His name was Jakob, forever crippled he'd been,
the son of a widow who worked in the inn.
As darkenss crept in, the roof would his bed keep
and the heavens would hear as he fell off to sleep.
"If it be not much trouble, it would bring me much joy,
if you could just make me a normal boy."
"Jakob, awake!" He heard the voice say.
"Jakob arise! Go fluff up the hay
Jakob, awake!" He heard the voice call.
"Jakob away and prepare thee a stall."
He opened his eyes to find no one around.
He picked up his crutch and struggled to ground.
He heard beautiful music--soft in the air
and followed its song 'til a manger was there.
He did what was told by the voice in the night
and prepared he the manger 'til all was just right.
He heard someone coming. He slipped out out away.
The man carried the woman and set her down in the hay.
and in only a while he heard the sweet lullaby
as she sang in response to her baby's first cry.
Then up in the heavens he heard angels sing
in praise of the birth of a Heavenly King.
Shepherds bore witness, wisemen adored
as they brought in fine gifts to give the new Lord.
Jakob gazed on and caught Mary's eye.
"Come closer my son. You've no need to be shy.
Come close here beside me. Would you like to see too?
Come see my baby. He'd love to see you."
She drew back the blanket from the Babe's holy face.
Jakob leaned down and kissed the cheek 'neath the lace.
Jakob loved the wee babe as he loved not before.
He knew he'd never be able to love any more.
A tear found his eye and then fell to his cheek.
He whispered to Mary in a voice frail and weak.
"I own not a gift to give to your Child."
He continued to whisper in a tone meek and mild.
"I own not a thing, not even a toy.
All I own is a crutch of a not normal boy."
Then Mary replied "Your crutch will be fine.
Remember dear Jakob in our Father's own time,
All will rejoice and all will find joy
that they too were loved by a not normal boy."
Jakob laid his crutch down, kissed the Christ Child once more
and found himself normal as he ran t'ward the door.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Christmas Lyllaby
Christmas Lullaby
Copyright 1995 - Susie Whiting
The cold December wind blew
as she lay there in her bed.
A new born babe lay bundled
in a wood crate by her head.
A teardrop fell as she gazed
beyon her window sill
to a small white cross she'd placed with love
upon a windy hill.
With fevered brow, she closed her eyes
and the heavens heard her prayer;
that Jesus bless her baby
lying silent by her there.
She wasn’t asking for herself
but in His wisdom please
bless her newborn infant
upon this Christmas Eve.
Savior grant it not be time
for her to be called home,
for if it was her new born babe
would be cold and left alone.
She closed her eyes, she dreamed, she thought
of a lady dressed in white;
A white as pure as heaven
her face full of Heaven’s light.
She sang the babe a lullaby
In an angel’s voice it seemed.
It must just be the fever.
She slept. ‘Twas just a dream.
Again she woke, again she saw
the lady dressed in white.
Peace filled her heart. Again she slept
and as the morn brought Christmas light
Her fever gone, her newborn slept.
In his crate he lay so small.
She picked him up to find him wrapped
in the lady’s pure white shawl.
A note was pinned upon it.
She read and began to cry.
For on it were the words
of the lady’s lullaby.
“Hush-a-bye my baby
For on a Christmas morn
In a far-off town called Bethlehem
a wee small babe was born.
Hush a bye my child
in a manger in a stall
a newborn babe was born to man.
A child born to all.
I held his hand when he was born
Searched for him when he was lost
And cried out in a mother’s pain
when they nailed him to the cross.
Hush-a-bye my wee one
No harm will come to you.
My name is Mary of Nazareth
and I loved my baby too.”
Copyright 1995 - Susie Whiting
The cold December wind blew
as she lay there in her bed.
A new born babe lay bundled
in a wood crate by her head.
With fevered brow, she closed her eyes
and the heavens heard her prayer;
that Jesus bless her baby
lying silent by her there.
She wasn’t asking for herself
but in His wisdom please
bless her newborn infant
upon this Christmas Eve.
Savior grant it not be time
for her to be called home,
for if it was her new born babe
would be cold and left alone.
She closed her eyes, she dreamed, she thought
of a lady dressed in white;
A white as pure as heaven
her face full of Heaven’s light.
She sang the babe a lullaby
In an angel’s voice it seemed.
It must just be the fever.
She slept. ‘Twas just a dream.
Again she woke, again she saw
the lady dressed in white.
Peace filled her heart. Again she slept
and as the morn brought Christmas light
Her fever gone, her newborn slept.
In his crate he lay so small.
She picked him up to find him wrapped
in the lady’s pure white shawl.
A note was pinned upon it.
She read and began to cry.
For on it were the words
of the lady’s lullaby.
“Hush-a-bye my baby
For on a Christmas morn
In a far-off town called Bethlehem
a wee small babe was born.
Hush a bye my child
in a manger in a stall
a newborn babe was born to man.
A child born to all.
I held his hand when he was born
Searched for him when he was lost
And cried out in a mother’s pain
when they nailed him to the cross.
Hush-a-bye my wee one
No harm will come to you.
My name is Mary of Nazareth
and I loved my baby too.”
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Christmas Watch
Christmas Watch
Susie Whiting
Copyright 2007
Large snowflakes floated and danced creating a panorama of pristine white; a small breeze twirling them into small tornadoes spinning around the feet of holiday shoppers. Children, bundled warmly, laughed while sailing snowballs towards each other and occasionally towards an innocent passerby.
On the corner, a Santa with a bucket rang his bell in time with the church chimes that pealed through the crystal night. While one offered sanctuary, the other asked for help, but both offered hope.
A cardboard box served as a cover for a man holding a sign. “Homeless. Please Help.” The coffer before him sat empty.
Cars passed by in a never ending parade sending slush upon the walk and occasionally upon the unsuspecting. The street lights sparkled green and red keeping with decorations in every window.
The sounds of carols echoed through the night along with the giggles of the children sledding down the hill of the park.
Had they not all been so busy, being wrapped up in lives of their own making, they might have noticed him. He sat against the building, snuggled close against the steps. His hat was pulled down as far as it could be pulled. His collar stretched up as high as it could stretch. His knees were pulled close to his chest and tucked under the worn coat that concealed his hands and arms. They were all so busy, but so was he. He watched as though an empty sponge, absorbing all that was going on around him.
He watched as the limo pulled up to the curb. The chauffer opened the door as the couple slid from their seats. The gentleman adjusted his top hat and helped the lady to her feet. She lifted her gown to keep it from being soiled. He tucked her had around his arm as they past; as they past the Santa with his bucket and as they passed the homeless in his box.
He watched as the family walked by, weighted down with brightly wrapped packages. They didn’t smile. A small son ran along beside them, crying out his list of what he expected Christmas to bring him and being pacified by his parents that he surely would receive all that he requested. And they passed by the Santa with his bucket, and the homeless with his coffer, and the child on the corner with worn shoes. And he watched.
They were business men. And as they left their office, they talked of all the deals that needed closing. Christmas was such an inconvenience. There was work to be done and there wasn’t enough time. Neither was there enough time to notice the Santa on the Corner, or the homeless with his coffer, or the child with worn shoes, or the old woman without a shawl.
Across the street, the small café was closing. She took off her apron and counted her tips. It had been a slow day. She would have to get more hours in next week if she were to make her rent. As she turned the sign from “Opened” to “Closed” she noticed them. The Santa on the Corner, the homeless in the box, the child with worn shoes, the old woman without a shawl, and the man sitting at the bottom of the steps in the ragged coat.
The wind blew snowflakes into her eyes as she closed the café door behind her. Horns honked their disturbance as she crossed the slushy street.
She dropped a portion of her tips into the bucket of the Santa. “I wish it could be more.” She whispered.
To the homeless she handed a warm meal in a paper bag and thanked him as he said “God bless you.”
She traded her shoes for the shoes of the child, amazed that they seemed to wear the same size.
She wrapped her own sweater around the shoulders of the old woman.
But when she approached the steps where the man and been sitting, she found only a coat lying in the snow. She picked it up, amazed at the warmth escaping it.
As she reached her hand into the pocket she found her fingers clasped around a tiny wooden manger and a tiny wooden cross wrapped in a note that said: “For I was hungry and you gave me food; I was weary and you gave me rest; I was naked and you clothed me”.
May we all celebrate this Christmas Season, each with the knowledge of who is watching. For it is through the seeing of others, that we find Christ.
Susie Whiting
Copyright 2007
Large snowflakes floated and danced creating a panorama of pristine white; a small breeze twirling them into small tornadoes spinning around the feet of holiday shoppers. Children, bundled warmly, laughed while sailing snowballs towards each other and occasionally towards an innocent passerby.
On the corner, a Santa with a bucket rang his bell in time with the church chimes that pealed through the crystal night. While one offered sanctuary, the other asked for help, but both offered hope.
A cardboard box served as a cover for a man holding a sign. “Homeless. Please Help.” The coffer before him sat empty.
Cars passed by in a never ending parade sending slush upon the walk and occasionally upon the unsuspecting. The street lights sparkled green and red keeping with decorations in every window.
The sounds of carols echoed through the night along with the giggles of the children sledding down the hill of the park.
Had they not all been so busy, being wrapped up in lives of their own making, they might have noticed him. He sat against the building, snuggled close against the steps. His hat was pulled down as far as it could be pulled. His collar stretched up as high as it could stretch. His knees were pulled close to his chest and tucked under the worn coat that concealed his hands and arms. They were all so busy, but so was he. He watched as though an empty sponge, absorbing all that was going on around him.
He watched as the limo pulled up to the curb. The chauffer opened the door as the couple slid from their seats. The gentleman adjusted his top hat and helped the lady to her feet. She lifted her gown to keep it from being soiled. He tucked her had around his arm as they past; as they past the Santa with his bucket and as they passed the homeless in his box.
He watched as the family walked by, weighted down with brightly wrapped packages. They didn’t smile. A small son ran along beside them, crying out his list of what he expected Christmas to bring him and being pacified by his parents that he surely would receive all that he requested. And they passed by the Santa with his bucket, and the homeless with his coffer, and the child on the corner with worn shoes. And he watched.
They were business men. And as they left their office, they talked of all the deals that needed closing. Christmas was such an inconvenience. There was work to be done and there wasn’t enough time. Neither was there enough time to notice the Santa on the Corner, or the homeless with his coffer, or the child with worn shoes, or the old woman without a shawl.
Across the street, the small café was closing. She took off her apron and counted her tips. It had been a slow day. She would have to get more hours in next week if she were to make her rent. As she turned the sign from “Opened” to “Closed” she noticed them. The Santa on the Corner, the homeless in the box, the child with worn shoes, the old woman without a shawl, and the man sitting at the bottom of the steps in the ragged coat.
The wind blew snowflakes into her eyes as she closed the café door behind her. Horns honked their disturbance as she crossed the slushy street.
She dropped a portion of her tips into the bucket of the Santa. “I wish it could be more.” She whispered.
To the homeless she handed a warm meal in a paper bag and thanked him as he said “God bless you.”
She traded her shoes for the shoes of the child, amazed that they seemed to wear the same size.
She wrapped her own sweater around the shoulders of the old woman.
But when she approached the steps where the man and been sitting, she found only a coat lying in the snow. She picked it up, amazed at the warmth escaping it.
As she reached her hand into the pocket she found her fingers clasped around a tiny wooden manger and a tiny wooden cross wrapped in a note that said: “For I was hungry and you gave me food; I was weary and you gave me rest; I was naked and you clothed me”.
May we all celebrate this Christmas Season, each with the knowledge of who is watching. For it is through the seeing of others, that we find Christ.
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