Santa Claus:

"Best of wishes for your merry Christmases
and your happy New Years, your long lives and your true prosperities."
          — Charles Dickens

Christmas Gifts
to give yourself:

Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.

Memorize your favorite poem.

Don't believe all you hear, spend all you have, or loaf all you want.

When you say, "I love you," mean it.

When you say, "I'm sorry," look the person in the eye.

Believe in love at first sight.

Love deeply and passionately. You may get hurt, but it's the only way to live life completely.

Don't judge people by their relatives, or by the life they were born into.

Call your mother.

Say, "bless you" when you hear someone sneeze.

Don't let a little dispute injure a great friendship.

Smile when picking up the phone. The caller will hear it in your voice.

Spend some time alone.

Open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values.

Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.

Read more books. Television is no substitute.

Trust in God but lock your car.

Do all you can to create a tranquil, harmonious home.

Pray or meditate. There's immeasurable power in it.

Never interrupt when you are being flattered.

Mind your own business.

Go someplace you've never been before.

If you make a lot of money, put it to use helping others while you are living.

Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.

Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.

Live with the knowledge that your character is your destiny.

Approach love and cooking with reckless abandon.

CHRISTMAS - THE DAILY'S

Just a week before Christmas I had a visitor. This is how it happened. I just finished the household chores for the night and was preparing to go to bed when I heard a noise in the front of the house. I opened the door to the front room, and to my surprise, Santa himself stepped out from behind the Christmas tree. He placed his finger over his mouth so I would not cry out.

"What are you doing?" I started to ask him.

The words choked in my throat, as I saw he had tears in his eyes. His usual jolly manner was gone. Gone was the eager boisterous soul we all know. He then answered me with a simple statement, TEACH THE CHILDREN! I was puzzled:

What did he mean? He anticipated my question, and with one quick movement brought forth a miniature toy bag from behind the tree. As I stood there bewildered, Santa said, Teach the Children! Teach them the old meaning of Christmas. The meaning that a now-a-day Christmas has forgotten!

Santa then reached in his bag and pulled out a FIR TREE and placed it on the mantle. Teach the Children that the pure green color of the stately fir tree remains green all year round, depicting the everlasting hope of mankind. All the needles point heavenward, making it a symbol of man's thoughts turning toward heaven.

He again reached into his bag and pulled out a brilliant STAR. Teach the Children that the star was the heavenly sign of promises long ago. God promised a Savior for the world, and the star was the sign of fulfillment of that promise.

He then reached into the bag and pulled out a CANDLE. Teach the Children that the candle symbolizes that Christ is the light of the world, and when we see this great light we are reminded of He who displaces the darkness.

Once again he reached into his bag and then removed a WREATH and placed it on the tree. Teach the Children that the wreath symbolizes the eternal nature of love. Real love never ceases. Love is one continuous round of affection.

He then pulled out from his bag an ornament of HIMSELF. Teach the Children that Santa Claus symbolizes the generosity and good will we feel during the month of December.

He reached in again and pulled out a HOLLY LEAF. Teach the Children the holly plant represents immortality. It represents the crown of thorns worn by our Savior. The red holly berries represent blood shed by Him.

Next he pulled out a GIFT from the bag and said, "Teach the Children that God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son. Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift. Teach the Children that the wise men bowed before the holy babe and presented Him with gold, frankincense, and myrrh. We should give gifts in the same spirit as the wise men."

Santa then reached in his bag and pulled out a CANDY CANE and hung it on the tree. Teach the Children that the candy cane represents the shepherd's crook. The crook on the shepherd's staff helps bring back strayed sheep from the flock. The candy cane is the symbol that we are our brother's keeper.

He reached in again and pulled out an ANGEL. Teach the Children that it was the angels that heralded in the glorious news of the Savior's birth. The angels sang 'Glory to God in the highest, on earth, peace and good will.'

Suddenly I heard a soft twinkling sound, and from his bag he pulled out a BELL. Teach the Children that as the lost sheep are found by the sound of a bell, it should bring people to the fold. The bell symbolizes guidance and return.

Santa looked at the tree and was pleased. He looked back at me and I saw the twinkle was back.

 

 

the true story
Author Unknown

 

I remember my first Christmas party with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"

My grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second cinnamon bun.

"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days.

'Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.

For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.

I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobbie Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.

Bobbie Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out for recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobbie Decker didn't have a cough, and he didn't have a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobbie Decker a coat.

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that. "Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down.

"Yes," I replied shyly. "It's ... for Bobbie." The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons, and write, "To Bobbie, From Santa Claus" on it -- Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobbie Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially one of Santa's helpers.

Grandma parked down the street from Bobbie's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobbie.

Forty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my grandma, in Bobbie Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.

 

I watch with fascination and some apprehension as preparations for yet another Christmas begin. Boxes I know to be filled with glitter and sparkle are lifted down from their resting place in the attic. The accumulated dust of eleven months is brushed away. The old fashioned stand is located and we begin our annual discussion...

"Where shall we put the tree?"

Deep inside myself a seed of discontent is sprouting. How can a year have passed so quickly? And what a year it has been! I'm not looking forward to this! How can I muster the enthusiasm needed to carry off our traditional celebration with grace and good cheer. We laugh about it sometimes, but the old cliché "if mama ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy" holds true here and I'm not certain I want to bear the responsibility of Happy Holidays for All.

Without warning, the ghost of "Christmas Past" hovers above me.

I'm flying backward through the years. I feel: exhaustion from putting way too much energy into a two-day celebration; incredible tension as certain relatives arrive for dinner; panic because we've gone up to our ears in debt buying what everyone "wanted" (I hear my daddy's voice... "for a little tyke, you've got the biggest wanter I've ever seen!"); remorse over an inexplicable confrontation. Then, I see us gathered on Christmas morning, opening carefully wrapped boxes, each containing only a slip of paper with a word or two printed on it. No money for gifts... we've decided to wrap reminders of the gifts we'd been given - good health - a lovely home - loving friends - enough food. There were more gifts to unwrap that year than the year we ended up in debt!

..."and put the tree in front of the window."

I'm snapped back into the moment. The decision of where to put the tree still going on around me, I am transformed. The spirit of Christmas has touched me... again. This year - this December - this season of Advent must be a season of contemplation and peace. We have been given so much!

"Yes! Let's put the tree in front of the window" I reply, "and light it with a million white fairy lights so the entire neighborhood can see and enjoy it with us!

God bless us every one!

Hugs and cookies,

nana ellen