NIFTY FIFTY

Fifty years ago today my family of three became a family of four.  Yes, I got a baby sister.  I guess if I'm totally honest I will admit that the memory that first comes to mind about that period of time is that snow was on the ground when my daddy and I went to pick up The Sister and my mother from the hospital.   I also vaguely remember that my eight year old self was sick with some childhood disease, maybe chickenpox or measles or some spotty disease like that.   Yes, fifty years ago there was a white Christmas!

After the white Christmas was melted and gone, I rather enjoyed having a baby sister, I would guess.  At various times, I remind The Sister that she really had it made.  As we both got older, she did not have to do a lot of the "pastor service projects" on Sundays with The Parents as I always had to do.  I was old enough to stay home with her and take care of her and even eventually drive her around to fun places.  Places like concerts at Six Flags and such as that.  She had a live in "young" chauffeur and baby sitter.

The Sister and I were and remain different, yet alike.  You might not know that The Sister LOVES shoes.  Really LOVES shoes.  As the two of us age, it's kind of funny how we grow more alike.  An experience with shoes is a good example of the different yet alike personalities.  As the older, more "arthritic" one, I am interested in shoes that feel good on my feet the same at bedtime as they felt when they were put on in the early morning.  I found such shoes.  They are pretty ugly but I really don't care about that as long as they don't hurt.  Imagine my surprise one day when The Sister called and asked me about those ugly shoes, saying she needed a pair that felt good.  Uh huh.  The other day I was reminded of this as The Sister, The Mother, and I had a celebratory birthday lunch.  I wore my ugly shoes and alas, so did The Sister wear hers.  The difference--mine are plain ugly black, hers are vivid ugly multi-colored!

My sister is most loved by many.   She loves her husband, son, and daughter immensely.  She loves her Lord even more.   She loves children.  She loves sports.  She's a good friend.  She can sing.  Well.  She can cook.  She can bake.  Very well.  And she likes doing it.

In celebration of The Sister's milestone birthday, I thought you would enjoy a short pictorial.  I could have made it a long pictorial but face it, tis the season to be busy and scanning old pictures is a time consuming event.  Plus I didn't have any of the time between young and "older".  They would really have entertained had I had them.  So instead, I decided to focus on "sister" photographs that I had.  Enjoy.

Posing with our Granny on the Sister's first Easter....or maybe I should say that I pose and The Sister sleeps.

As The Sister got a bit older she learned the art of "The Wave".  I'm thinking the camera person would say to wave as it showed up in various photos like this one with our Mema.

The next couple show hairband hairstyles popular with my age group.  It looks like it was someone's birthday, too.

Waving in front of the gray Rambler station wagon.....a child's dream ride....

Vacations......

I learned to sew in high school home economics and liked it.  I made all our clothes.  They matched.  On purpose. And we wore them.  Willingly.  I was constantly sewing and we were constantly getting new clothes.  Back then we thought we were stylin' and profilin'.  Now maybe we look at photos, we think not so much.  

The Sister has an infectious laugh and good sense of humor most days.

So happy birthday, Sister!  Hope you see fifty more!  Nifty!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS!

Nine.  9.  N-I-N-E.  A single digit.  That’s how many days it is until Christmas is here.  When someone tells you that the older you get, the faster time passes, BELIEVE them.  It is the truth.  Where has time gone?  The last few weeks, time and life seems to have overtaken me.  Busy, busy, busy.   I have no wrapped gifts under my tree.  I usually have it ALL done by now. 

My little Sunday School class of two and three year olds celebrated the season last Sunday with a “Happy Birthday, Jesus!” party and invited their parents to be our guests.  We had our regular routine of attendance star application, a time of getting rid of wiggles, a song (Happy birthday to you, dear Jesus), our prayer, lesson, gifts, food….just a fun Sunday School time.  These kids are such a blessing to me every Sunday morning.  Here’s a visual of our Sunday class time.

Tonight I was reflecting as I was writing a couple of last minute cards.  I chose to send these folks the same cards I sent to my Sunday School children—a card with characters from “A Charlie Brown Christmas”.  Let me tell you that there are a lot of things I love about Christmas—even when I’m busy.  There’s nothing sweeter than  children’s little voices singing “Away in a manger, no crib for a bed.  The little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head…”  Jerks my tears every time.  Another thing that gets me is in the “Charlie Brown Christmas” when Charlie Brown (isn’t it funny that he’s never just Charlie, but always Charlie Brown?) asks “Doesn’t anyone know what Christmas is about?”  And then shepherd Linus begins to speak.  When he quotes the “Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people...for unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior which is Christ the Lord”,  I get all teary-eyed again.  Every.  Single.  Time. 

Each Sunday since Thanksgiving, I’ve taught my little class the Christmas story.  I figure with little ones, repetition is good and after all, it is Christmas.    Shucks, sometimes adults need repetition.  To help the story come alive, the past two Sundays I’ve used my child’s nativity.  The children "help" tell the story with "hands-on" experience.

As I put the Joseph and Mary in place in the stable, I thought about them as parents.  They both had to be somewhat scared, I would think.  But with the fear of the unknown and circumstances came trust in what the angel had said and what God had promised.  Youngsters they were.  Becoming parents to God’s own son.  Amazing.   I would think that when they were in that stable and Jesus was lying in that manger, there had to be such a spirit-filled warmth like no other.  The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay. 

Then there were those shepherd guys out on the dark hillside.  Imagine their fear when the angel appeared and told them to “fear not”.   I always thought if I could choose someone to be in this story, it would be a shepherd.  Shepherds there on that hillside, probably poor, dirty, and tired.  Then all of a sudden getting the good news from angels that a Savior is born.  I love it that the shepherds were willing to “go and see” and then to “go and tell others”.   I’ve often said, though, that if I think about it, I have been like those shepherds because years ago as a child, I bowed at an altar and “found the Lord” and accepted him as MY Savior.  I know how those shepherds felt.  Joy.  Great joy that they found the Lord!

With my little class, we also use the wise men but I never think as much about them for one reason or another.  I do think of their gifts.  Costly gifts fit for a king.  Jesus only wants gifts of ourselves.  As I tell my little class, gifts of love, sharing, peace, joy…the list goes on and on.  And, too, I always remember that Jesus is THE gift and brings all those to us who love Him. 

The story of that first Christmas never gets old.  It’s new over and over again, be it December or the middle of July.   And as Linus says, “THAT'S what Christmas is all about!”

I say, "Amen"!

A BEARY GREAT TIME

A few weeks ago, The Husband and I took a short trip to the mountains of Tennessee.  Yes, the Great Smoky Mountains.  For the first time ever on a trip there, we rented a cabin  a short ways up a mountain in Wears Valley.  What a beautiful place!  Our cabin was comfortable and nice, too.

There was a pool table in the loft area.  The Husband and I enjoyed several games of pool.  Or at least we attempted to play several games of pool.  The Husband probably has been fairly successful at pool in the past and he was especially successful at pool on this trip, winning constantly.  I, on the other hand, might have picked up a pool pole maybe once in my lifetime.  I did find it rather fun, though.  I found it such fun that if I were in my young and foolish days, I might say we need a pool table.  However, now that I am old and wise, I’ll enjoy the memories.  

We enjoyed an early morning trip to Cades Cove.  The Husband and I DO love Cades Cove.  He enjoys the wildlife, I enjoy the photography.  Here are some samples of both.

The Husband and I were also able to meet the parents of The Balloon Friend (VBS, June 10, 2013 and Kindred Spirits, September 9, 2013) as it turned out they live and work a mile from our cabin.  That was such a nice meeting and they, like their sweet daughter, are lovely people.

On our return trip home, the route taken was over the mountains.  One can see why they are called the Great Smoky Mountains. 

Our route also took us via the Carolinas and these sights.

We stopped for a wonderful visit with a sweet friend and her husband.  We enjoyed a nice lunch at a good ‘ole boy restaurant  and visit with them.  The visit was even sweeter as it was the first time I had seen my friend since her cancer surgery and chemo.  She looked great, tired easily, but doing pretty well.  I thanked the Lord for that.  That time together was a joy and blessing.

I have saved the unforgettable “vacation” story until my post’s end.  The first day there, we received a call from the cabin realtor that our cabin was ready for us at 2 p.m.  Being a bit away from the cabin, we didn’t arrive there until about 3:15 p.m.  

We immediately noted that the trash can on the front porch was overturned.  The Husband uprighted it, and we unloaded the truck.  After we got inside, The Husband said, “I thought I might not tell you this, but decided maybe I will.  The trash bag inside the trash can was sort of shredded.  I think a bear might have turned it over.”  Well you can understand that I have enjoyed seeing bears on the side of the road of The Great Smoky Mountains in the past and I have enjoyed taking photos of them.  On the road.  From my car.  The thought that a bear might have turned over our trash can didn’t particularly make me warm and fuzzy.  Here’s a photo of the front porch, the front door, and the trash can.

The next morning we left for Cades Cove at 6:00 a.m.  Pitch darkness at 6:00 a.m. in The Great Smoky Mountains.  The Husband had backed the truck in the driveway which made my entrance to the truck on the opposite side of the cabin.  I told him I would not go around without a light.  There might be a bear.  He kind of did that “husband eye roll thing”….you girls know what I mean.   And you are thinking as you read this, “Oh no, there was a bear.”  Well no, luckily there was not a bear.  Or, at least I jumped in so quickly, I didn’t encounter it. 

We returned to the cabin around 2:00 p.m.  I sat in the rocker inside the den by the front porch window, The Husband reclined on the couch.  Watching television, of course, makes me sleepy along with the fact that I had rose very early for the 6 a.m. departure to Cades Cove.   And after all, it was a vacation. I said that I was going to lie down and take a nap.  As I got the bedroom, there was a noise from the porch and The Husband yelled, “Bear!”  There was a black bear at our trash can.  We both ran to the window, looked quickly and the bear scampered over the porch rail and headed down the side of the cabin.  Here’s a photo from the side window—it’s not very good as the camera flash kicked back, but you can see it.  The Husband said looked about 175-200 pounds. 

We hurried to the back deck which was safe but could not see the bear.  After looking again out the side window, we could see the animal trying the neighbor’s bear proof trash cans.  At this point, The Husband opened the door, peeked out to be sure the visitor had not brought friends and started to walk out into the cul-de-sac.   I told him to wait….”since you’re going out, take the camera”….duh.  One must prioritize.  We need a picture.  I quickly changed lenses so there would be the big one on the camera.  I stayed with my feet in the cabin.  If the bear ate The Husband and the camera, someone would need to call for help.  No need in all of us being eaten.  

Now keep in mind,  I take photos.  The Husband does not.  However, he did get another photo of the bear.  The bear was hanging on the outside of the deck rails on the neighbor’s cabin.  The bear was “walking” with his front paws on the deck rail, hanging on as he walked.  Then the bear dropped about 15’ to the ground and scampered off into the woods.  Here’s a photo…the bear is on the right side of the deck—the horizontal black blur you can see. I'm thinking if one could put a ranger hat on the bear, it would resemble "Smoky".  

So yes, another vacation to remember with memories of a different sort.  It was a "beary" great time!