The Fragrance of Her Life

(written in honor of my gram's birthday, February 13th)

Recently I've become acutely aware of how closely my memories of my grandmother are tied to my sense of smell. Some of the memories are intentional; when I miss her most, all I have to do is start baking. The smell of chocolate chip cookies or bread baking conjures up pleasant memories of many days spent underfoot in the corner of Gram's kitchen, where I hovered at her elbow, begging for my chance to stir the Thanksgiving gravy or beat the egg whites for her amazing Austrian dumplings.

The most pleasant memories, however, are the ones I bump into quite unexpectedly. Take, for instance, Irish Spring soap. Just a whiff takes me back to wash day at Gram's house. My favorite part was helping run the fresh, clean, one-hundred percent cotton sheets through the mangle, an old-fashioned ironing contraption. The mangle squeaked and moaned as the sheets were pulled inch by inch over the hot steamy roller arm. Once the last bit of sheet had passed through, you quickly pulled the freshly pressed sheet out, folded it once more and repeated the process. Gram then carefully tucked the sheets away in a drawer amid a bar or two of Irish Spring soap. On a hot summer night, nothing brings on a restful sleep like a cool, crisply creased cotton sheet and the fresh smell of Irish Spring soap.

Then there's furniture polish. Although it emerges less frequently at my house, when it does, it brings to mind many Saturday mornings spent cleaning Gram's house. Dusting was my favorite chore. Each and every knick-knack had special meaning to me. As I fingered the old books on the shelves, my love of the classics grew. The model frigate inspired dreams of faraway places. The little china girl with the poodle dog set my heart on having my own dog someday. Even the fine china and crystal had an impact on me, as I began to dream about the day I would host family gatherings and cook the holiday dinners.

More memories come to mind as I pass through the cosmetics section of a department store. Usually a kiss and hug from Gram left a bit of Hollywood Extra cold cream on your cheek. It was her standard makeup and gave her warm Italian skin a bit of a shiny glow. But on special occasions, she donned her Estee Lauder Private Collection fragrance. I can still picture her, dressed to the nines and decked out in her fur coat, ready to take my mother, sister and me to the Nutcracker ballet one year. As we stood in line, the sweet fragrance of her perfume filled the air and my girlish heart swelled with pride to have such a classy lady for my gram.

So many wonderful scents – so many precious memories. I realize now my Gram's entire life was a fragrance that delighted and refreshed all who knew her. Since her passing, I've become especially sensitive to scent. The slightest whiff of lilac blossoms in spring or a baby freshly powdered after its bath remind me to stop and enjoy all the loveliness around me, and remember a beautiful life whose fragrance still lingers with me.

My Lenten Journey

Thinking back over the years I am amazed to see how God has used the season of Lent in my life, even though my observance of it has been mostly as a bystander:

• I observed smudges on people’s foreheads, and in ignorance pointed them out! Oops. (They were merely Ash Wednesday ashes.)
• I observed friends declaring what they were giving up for Lent. And felt a sense of secret chagrin that for that many weeks, I couldn’t share home-baked treats or lattes with them, not wanting to offend or tempt them.
• I observed my own sense of self-righteousness, sometimes proclaiming almost proudly that I didn’t observe Lent. Didn’t need to.
• I observed a personal lack of understanding of the biblical practice of fasting. I felt God challenge me to privately “give up” something as a reminder to pray for my friends during this season.
• I observed God at work in my heart, asking me to be open to seeing things afresh, stripped of preconceived notions about how things should look.
• I observed others observing Lent – not merely as a meaningless ritual or requirement for righteousness but as a season of letting go in order to grasp more tightly to things of God.
• I observed a growing curiosity about this tradition that is not specifically mentioned in the Bible and yet contains so many biblical elements.

Lent for me has been a strange but beautiful journey over the past fourteen years, one I didn’t even realize I was on. But for these reasons and more, I’m excited to embrace it more fully this year, and all that God has to teach me through it.

Hand in Hand

When I was a child, my sister and I often played in the nearby creek that ran under the road down from my gram's house in the country. We fancied ourselves fishermen, squatting on the shallow banks and swooping empty tin cans through the icy cold water, hoping to come up with a few minnows. Or we'd patiently watch for crayfish to poke their scary little pinchers out of their muddy homes and try to dig them up and fling them into the same tin cans. Oh yes, we were the fearless ones, steadying each other as we stepped, hopscotch-fashion, over the smooth stones, headed for the deeper waters and hopefully better fishing. Proud little adventurers in the great outdoors.

Yes, we were mostly fearless - except for the time my sister almost fell headlong into the creek. We were sprawled on the side of the road, dipping our "fishing poles" (tin cans on strings) into the water below. Somehow my sister slipped on the gravel and almost fell into the creek. Somehow I managed to grab her and keep her in the land of the living. Not that the creek was more than a seven or eight foot drop but to a little kid, it must have seemed like Niagara Falls. For days she retold the story of how I saved her life.

Isn't life a bit like playing in that creek? At times, we are the unsteady ones, trying to figure out the next best step. And then we are the steady ones, reaching back to help another traveler navigate where we've already been. Sometimes we are the stumbling ones, taking an unexpected tumble when life throws it's curves. Other times we are the more sure-footed ones, there to lend a rescuing hand. And this reaching forward and reaching back connects us all in a unique way, not unlike the silly chains of paper dolls we used to cut out as kids.

Hand in hand - isn't it the only way to go through life?

A Christmas Memory

I just read that this blogger needs to (among other things) install a lock on her son's bedroom door, and a rush of Christmas memories came to mind.

When we were kids, my mom never bothered to wrap our presents. Which suited us just fine. I mean, let's cut to the chase, right? Instead, she arranged my sister's and my gifts in matching piles on the couch or either side of the Christmas tree, which I think she usually set up on Christmas Eve.

Amazingly, these piles were perfectly symmetrical, mirror images of each other. Personalized bath towels. Matching, sometimes homemade, pajamas. New (also sometimes homemade) dresses - same style, different color. Cowboy outfits, complete with cap guns and holsters - just what every little tomboy wants!

And the dolls. Always the dolls. Every year there was a new doll for each of us, I guess to counter any potential negative effects of the cowboy paraphernalia and Hardy Boy books. Also amazing was the fact that every year I seemed to get the brown-haired doll with the red dress while Debbie got the blond-haired doll with the blue dress. Go figure.

Anyways, these laborious preparations kept Mom up quite late on Christmas eve. Her final touch was to secure the bi-fold doors with a rubber band, to keep little early birds at bay while she recouped from her late night endeavors.

Well, one year I decided to take matters into my own hands. As was (and still is) my habit, I was wide awake at some ridiculous hour. I tiptoed out into the hallway, pushed on the bi-fold doors until there was just enough room to get my little hand through and remove the rubber band. I then proceeded to rearrange the piles of presents a little more to my liking. I knew better than to mess with the personalized towels. My main objective was the doll. I wanted, no I needed - that blond doll with the blue dress. I was tired of red. I can't remember what else I did but after a bit, and perhaps a cereal snack, I somehow managed to secure those bifold doors again and tiptoe back to bed, quite pleased with myself.

On Christmas morning, I acted oh so surprised. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was the blinding light from my dad's 8mm movie camera, but my mom never caught on to my clever antics! Until years later when I revealed my little secret and she confessed to a bit of Christmas morning confusion.

So yes, Sarah. You are wise to install a lock on the little boy's door. Perhaps it should be on the outside though!

My Father's Gift

As a kid, I always looked forward to payday, for often my dad would come home from work with a surprise for my sister and me. A Hershey bar, a ruler or new pencils - these little gifts were ways my dad said "I love you." What kid doesn't delight in getting a gift from her dad?

Now that I'm older, one of the gifts I recognize that my father has bestowed upon me is the gift of patience. I'm generally an impatient person, not so much with others but with myself and the things I do. I want everything now. I want a blooming display of flowers but not the work associated with them. I want my house to be clean and organized and nicely decorated - now. I want to accomplish all my dreams today!

Visions come to mind of my dad and his meticulous patience in everything he does. There's a right way to do things, no matter how long it takes. He puts things away when he's finished with them, wrapping up cords, disposing of the last little bit of trash. And he always allows himself plenty of time to accomplish these tasks. I can hardly ever remember my dad rushing or fretting about things. This beauty of taking his good old time is part of this idea of patience - the idea of making room and time for patience to work.

I'm not doing such a great job here of expressing what I feel and that's possibly because it's something I've only come to realize as of late. But there's a sense of calm that comes over me when I'm doing something and I remember to slow down and take my time. And I think I have my dad to thank for instilling in me this sense of patience. It's just one of the many things I appreciate about him, and I hope I can thank him by living it out.

Thanks Dad - I love you!

She's A Grand One!

When I was a kid, we were fortunate - oh so fortunate - to live next door to my Gram. She lived across the field from us. My sis and I were always over there. It was not unlike us to run across the field several times a day to borrow a tomato or egg, check out what she was having for dinner or just read the paper, shoot the breeze and visit. (Whatever Gram was having for dinner always seemed better than what we were having!) Over the years she gave us art lessons, serenaded us with her attempts at playing the piano and organ (!) and kept us laughing with her crazy schemes. Chores were a hassle at home but cleaning Gram's house was our pleasure (go figure!)

For these and other reasons, we used to tell our mom she was our "mother" but Gram was our "grand" mother. Of course, most kids everywhere do the same. Grandmas tell you stories while moms tell you to clean your room. Grandmas give you homemade bread with butter and jelly, or fudgsicles before you've had your dinner. Moms give you dinner and make you eat it all, whether you like it or not. Grandmas delight in everything you do; moms - well, they're the mom. They discipline you. Make sure you get to bed on time. Make sure your clothes match. Ensure you get your homework done.

Grandmas are quite grand and ours was a treasure. But after all these years, I've come to realize my mom was quite grand herself. I'm sure I didn't appreciate it then, because she was just doing her job most of the time. But while she was making sure our clothes matched, our manners appropriate and our homework complete, she also made sure we made plenty of memories along the way. The summer before my sophomore year, she had something special planned almost every week, and at the end of that summer, she presented us with a photo album so we'd be able to remember all the fun things we did. She worked for many years at a Christian school so my sister and I could attend there. When I was in college 400 miles from home, many were the times she'd surprise me by visiting for the weekend and taking me and all my roommates out for dinner, or fly me home for a weekend.

Now that I'm older of course, I realize she didn't always have it easy. She stood her ground many times when it meant she wouldn't be popular. Years before my dad came to know Christ, she was committed to raising my sister and I to know and walk with the Lord. Okay, so she did have a strange way of waking us up. She'd come in our rooms, flip on the light and quote a verse from Proverbs about not being lazy! But I'm sure that was only because she'd been up long before, spending time in her Bible and on her knees in prayer - and she longed for us to start our day the same way.

So this is for you, Mom! Happy Mother's Day! Having grandchildren doesn't make you grand - you were that all along! Thanks for just doing your job . . . your girls are rising up and calling you blessed (make that "grand") today!

A Kid and a Kite

Even though fall is my favorite season, of late I've come to realize how much I always enjoyed spring. I think that's because of my dad's enthusiasm for the season. He's the one who made a big deal out of Groundhog Day, and he's also the one who taught me to fly a kite.

When I was in second grade, I entered a kite contest sponsored by the local Lion's Club. I remember entering at school, then going home and telling my dad we needed to make a kite. All the kids were talking about their elaborate designs but my dad and I decided to stick with your basic diamond-shaped kite. In 1972, I was really into black and yellow and the whole Smiley face idea, so we spray-painted the thing black and then spray-painted a big yellow Smiley face in the middle.

Come contest day, I quickly realized my kite was not a thing of beauty, compared to the Chinese dragon kites and box kites the other kids had constructed. My hopes of winning anything were soon dampened, both by the site of all the other kites, and also by the damp chilly weather, a typical Pittsburgh spring day.

Kid after kid attempted to get their clunky masterpieces off the ground without success. At last my turn came. I knew how to fly a kite. I took off running, holding the spool in one hand, and the kite in the other, willing it to catch a breeze . . . and it did. Higher and higher it went, the lone kite in the sky that day. The smiley face had become a smug grin, matching the grin on my dad's face and mine. Our little ole' plain paper kite had won the big one!

Tonight Mike and I took his nephew on his first kite flying adventure. I, the master kite-flyer, took great pride in patiently instructing the youngster in the art of kite-flying. We gave it our best effort but the wind just wouldn't cooperate and we couldn't get it more than 50' high. Nevertheless, it brought back great memories of one of the biggest days in my life as a kid. The day my dad and I won the kite-flying contest!

I still look forward to flying a kite every spring. What about you? Did you fly kites as a kid? Do you ever do it now, as an adult? If you have kids, why not give it a try now that spring is finally here?

That Little Whippersnapper and Other Musings

Ever since I was a little girl, my dad promised a quarter or fifty-cents to the first one to see a robin in the spring. Even as an adult, I've still been quick to cash in on that challenge. Well, this year he extended the challenge to my niece and nephews ,and didn't my 9 year old niece B call him already to let him know she'd spotted a robin! The little whippersnapper!

I don't know if there's a runner-up prize or not, but I'm still looking for that robin! Heck, I'm on the lookout for any sign of spring! But today it looks pretty far away - we're under a "freezing rain" alert in my city today. Don't know if I will still be shopping and visiting with my sister as planned.

Speaking of weather alerts on the news, do you ever wonder why they call it "news"? I mean, when you have to hear it five or six times, is it really new? I've seen the same lady now three times saying she hopes the new casinos in our area pay off!

I spent last evening with my parents and some house guests of theirs. They're visiting from Spain and very eager to learn and improve their English. Among other things, we discussed the custom of engagement. In Spain, there's no such thing. The churches have a waiting list for people to get married. Once a couple decides to get married, they head for the church and get their name on the list! I couldn't imagine marriage without several months to prepare; they couldn't fathom the whole engagement ring and waiting period!

They also found it amusing that our cat is diabetic and needs shots several times a day! I guess that is kind of bizarre but I don't find it amusing! She's seventeen years old. I mean, she's a nice enough cat (when she's not hissing at my dog), but how many lives does she get?!

One last thing, and I promise I'm working on a real post soon. Yesterday I made some awesome vegetable soup. Neither Mike nor I really care for beef in our vegetable soup, so this is truly vegetable soup. Here's the recipe in a nutshell, but understand, I really don't measure when making this!

1 large onion, chopped
4-6 stalks celery, chopped
6-7 carrots, peeled and diced
1-2 turnips, peeled and diced
4 cans vegetable broth
1 large & 1 reg. can of stewed tomatoes (or whole tomatoes - you can crush them yourself)
1 large can V-8 juice (I try to use low sodium if I have it)
1/2 - 3/4 cup cooking wine
2 cups savoy cabbage, coarsely chopped
1 cup baby spinach
dried basil, pepper to taste

In a large stockpot, saute onion, celery, carrots and turnips in about 2T olive oil until the onions and celery are tender. Slowly add the broth, tomatoes, V-8 and cooking wine. Bring just to a boil, reduce heat and add cabbage and spinach leaves. Season to taste. Simmer for at least an hour. Enjoy!

This goes really great with homemade bread, unless you've lost the kneading blade for your bread machine!!!

Christmas on the Funny Farm

I know someone did a Christmas memory post and invited everyone to link there, and I obviously missed that one. Nevertheless I wanted to share a few memories of Christmases gone by here.

Although my parents made Christmas wonderful for us as kids, my memories are interspersed with times spent at my Gram's house in the country, that big multi-acre homestead we affectionately called the Funny Farm due to its lack of animals beyond the occasional mouse.

Christmas eve was always spent at my aunt's house, and my parents would get home and get their two anxious little girls to bed and begin assembling toys and arranging our presents in the livingroom. Christmas mornings were spent in front of that ever-so-bright light on my dad's 8mm camera, as he taped his little girls expressing glee at the site before him (or faking it, if I was up several hours prior, rearranging the presents to my benefit - see my previous post here if you want to wise up to what your kids might think of!)

Sometime around noon I guess, we'd don our new turtlenecks and holiday best and head for the country for Christmas with Gram. I swear she must have spent hours making those celebrations almost magical for me and my cousins. There must have been at least twenty-five people crowded into her diningroom and she usually had tables extending into the livingroom as well. After dinner, it was time for presents. But not just presents. One year she had a grab bag and we cousins all pulled numbers out of a bag and got a different gift. I think that was the year I ended up with a $5 bill hidden in an empty wrapping paper tube. Another year she made a pinata and we all took turns swinging at it in the basement, waiting for the candy to spew all over the floor.

When I think about it, the gifts really weren't much. There was the year she gave me and my sister really nice perfume sets. One year it was a Nothing Book - much like a blank journal nowadays. The adults exchanged practical presents such as dishtowels, pot holders and Maxwell House coffee. The men would usually end up sitting around, solving the problems of the world in raised voices, while the women played cards and we kids played with our gifts. It was the togetherness, not to mention the wonderful food, that made the holiday special.

As we grew into our teens, the big get-togethers dwindled as some of our cousins and aunts moved away. My one favorite aunt, my gram's sister, continued to come. Presents continued to be silly and practical. My sister was becoming an accomplished pianist and we'd look forward to her performing for us after dinner. Then everyone would get in on the act, my Gram and her sisters singing goofy songs or playing Charades.

In 1977, our family spent the entire Christmas week and then some at Gram's, because our house next door burned down and we had no where else to go. My memories that year are mostly of generous church families making sure our family had the basics as we started our lives from scratch. I still have my Bert & Ernie pillowcase I was given back then.

During my college years and my twenties, we continued to spend much of Christmas day at Gram's, but sometime in my thirties, we started gathering at my mom's instead (which was just across the field from Gram's place). When my Gram broke her hip one year, and started feeling the effects of osteoporosis, my husband and brother-in-law would carry her across the field in a chair. I guess it was easier than getting her in and out of a car. The gift-giving seemed to center around Gram too - she was our little queen (she was less than 5' and weighed less than 100 lbs). I usually bought her clothes in the children's department!

Our last Christmas with Gram was back at her house. We gathered in the livingroom that was rarely used anymore, and she gave each of us something from her house. I can't remember what she gave my mom or sister, but she gave me a set of Norman Rockwell teacups, which I'll always cherish.

When the presents have outlived their usefulness, when the bubble bath and Maxwell house coffee are gone, when the chocolate's all been eaten and we've outgrown the toys, we realize what lasts from year to year are the memories we make together. I hope you and your family make some wonderful memories for keeps this year!

So that's why Gram did that (and other holiday observations)!

When I was a kid, I liked running next store to Gram's in the days leading up to Thanksgiving. I just loved being a part of the preparations. In fact, much of what I do now I do just as I learned from her. She would always set the table several days in advance. And in each serving bowl there would be a little slip of paper noting what scrumptious delight would soon fill that dish. Tonight as I set my table for dinner tomorrow, I began to panic. I don't have enough serving dishes! Finally, I grabbed a slip of paper and jotted down a list of items . . . stuffing (1), stuffing (2), sweet potatoes . . . etc. Then I cut them up and placed them in each bowl on the table and it occurred to me - perhaps Gram didn't think she had enough serving dishes either?? Well the other good thing about this is it keeps you from forgetting to put everything you've made on the table. Which is a real bummer after you go to all the time and trouble and then come across it as the guests are leaving!

This year, I'm taking it easy. Bought a pumpkin cheesecake at Costco. I did opt to make homemade rolls. I'd rather bake bread than make dessert. Bought Watkin's Roasted Turkey Gravy mix online and it just came yesterday. No making turkey stock from scratch ahead of time and thawing it the night before and laboring over the pan drippings tomorrow! Just add water, mix and stir! Mostly everything else is made and hiding in the fridge, waiting to go into the oven or microwave tomorrow.

Last night I thought there was no way I was going to pull this one off. I got home from work late as usual and, as usual, was too tired to do much. I usually tell myself to get my cleaning done first, and as a reward for doing so, then I get to cook! Well that just didn't happen this year. And you know what, I still didn't get all the cleaning done. Tomorrow I (we) still need to vacuum, dust and ugh, clean the bathroom! But you know what else? It will get done because that's all I really need to do tomorrow.

So from here on out, I free myself from silly restrictions such as "clean first." It will get done, even at the last minute. And what if a cleaning fairy showed up to surprise me (no, Mom, I'm not hinting here!) and there was nothing for her to do? See, it makes total sense to me - from here on out, leave the cleaning till last. Plus if the food is really good, it won't matter if my ceilings are decorated with cobwebs or if guests can write their names in the dust, right?

And now, really, I am signing off and pausing to reflect on my many blessings - before the mayhem starts tomorrow!

Holiday Meme

Got this great Holiday meme from Stacy at Exceedingly Mundane and thought I'd give it a whirl. By the way, there's lots of great recipes and reading lists at her place - not at all mundane!

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? Neither. I'll take a skim decaf Peppermint Mocha, half the syrup please!

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? Santa doesn't come to our house (no we're not anti-Santa!) - the "Fat Guy" does. The Fat Guy always wraps the presents. And he always sneaks the presents under the tree - never let the other person see you put a gift under the tree!

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? Colored, I think. Although for a few years I was into the white lights, red bow & popcorn them. But whatever color they are, they absolutely must not twinkle!

4. Do you hang mistletoe? No. And I feel quite good about this, since I recently learned the origins of the misteltoe plant: Origins of its name - The common name of the plant is derived from the ancient belief that mistletoe was propagated from bird droppings. This belief was related to the then-accepted principle that life could spring spontaneously from dung. It was observed in ancient times that mistletoe would often appear on a branch or twig where birds had left droppings. "Mistel" is the Anglo-Saxon word for "dung," and "tan" is the word for "twig". So, mistletoe means "dung-on-a-twig". So hey, if you want to kiss your sweetie under bird dung, be my guest!!!

5. When do you put your decorations up? Whenever I get around to it. It's not a priority. I start with the tablecloth and kitchen stuff the week after Thanksgiving. If I have it all up a week before Christmas, I feel good. (And maybe treat myself to Starbucks!) One year I was still making decorations on Christmas eve! The goal is to get them down as quickly as possible afterwards - ideally by New Year's. One year my sister and I left our tree up until Valentine's Day!

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)? Hmmm. This is hard. My gram used to make lamb at Christmas sometimes, and that's probably my favorite. Nowadays, I prefer Thanksgiving dinner - turkey, cranberry sauce and stuffing - to most of what I get at Christmas.

7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child: Wellll . . . I was always the investigative type of child. I just had to try and figure things out. My mom never wrapped our presents, instead she'd put them in the livingroom on Christmas eve after my sister and I went to bed. We each had our own beautifully color-coordinated arranged array of presents - matching of course. A doll for each of us. Pajamas. Etc. Once I figured out how they got there, I started getting up early Christmas morning and going out and switching gifts around. I wanted the blonde-haired doll this year. Or that Nancy Drew book. I was very quiet and very good at it because my mom never realized this was going on until I told her about it years later! Poor mom - she was always second-guessing herself on Christmas morning and chalking it up to the late night!

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? When I found the boxes from the life-sized dolls in the gameroom one year. Those dolls were a little freaky too - they were about 36" high!

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? My husband and I always do. And we go to my dad's side of the family on Christmas Eve and that always used to involve a gift exchange too.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree? The last few years it's been with raffia bows and a wooden bead garland I made myself. But Mike hinted last year that he prefers the shinier stuff - he likes those old-fashioned glass-blown ornaments so I've been collecting them and will try something new this year. I thought about doing two trees - NOT!

11. Snow! Love it or Dread it? Love it when I'm inside with nowhere to go and a fire in the woodstove!

12. Can you ice skate? Yes. I have a rather unique style I developed myself. I hang on to the side of the rink and try to avoid falling down (I'm paranoid of falling, for some reason) or getting knocked over by some little three-year old Olympic-champion in the making! (I hate ice skating, really!)

13. Do you remember your favorite gift? When I was a kid, my gram bought my sister and I each a perfume and powder set. Really nice stuff - Elizabeth Arden or something. But the most useful gift has to be the set of good knives my parents got me one year.

14. What’s the most important thing about the Holidays for you? Gotta ditto Stacy here: Being with family and remembering the reason we celebrate Christmas in the first place.

15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert? Hands down, give me a shortbread cookie or two!

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? Mike and I give each other a nice card every year. That's the first thing we open on Christmas morning. We always date the back and write a silly note there. I put them away with the Christmas decorations each year and we read through them again the following year as I put up the decorations. Big deal huh?

17. What tops your tree? A little cornhusk angel we bought at a craft fair the week before we got married.

18. Which do you prefer giving or Receiving? Giving.

19. What is your favorite Christmas Song? All time favorite has to be The Carpenter's Christmas Album. But last year I bought myself a new CD and the music really spoke to my heart. I can't wait to start playing it this year.

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum?? Yuck and Yum. I hate sticky old candy canes that have been hanging on the tree for too many years. I like a candy-cane in my hot chocolate though!

Open tag here: if you want, share on your blog and post a comment here so I can go check out how you celebrate Christmas!

Answered Prayer: All in God's Time

My dad trusted Christ in 1995, when my mom had cancer. We had prayed 20 years for his salvation. Since then, he has attended church faithfully, shared his experience with others but that's about it. He never did like to read. He sits next to me in SS, and likes the teacher, but much of it is over his head because he lacks the foundation (but that's where he likes to go).

Recently their neighbors were saved and asked my mom to do a Bible study with them, and my dad agreed to join them. She's been doing their assignment with him each week. Today she got up and found his Bible out on the table. He had done the study on his own!