Gifts

Christmas has my Name on it!

“But he that entereth in by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. To him the porter openeth; and the sheep hear his voice: and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out.” –John 10:2-3   For years I had hung five Christmas stockings along the fireplace mantel. On the large red stocking, that was for my parents, I had carefully knitted “WAYNE” on one side of the cuff, and “AGNES” on the other. Next to it were hanging two small red felt stockings; one said “KAREN” (me) and the other, “JOHN”, my husband. The two large red felt stockings with white cuffs were for our sons. One was marked “BRENT” and the other, “ERIK”. Then came the Christmas that Brent would bring home his new fiancé. She was from Japan and this would be her first Christmas. We were thrilled, but how could we make…

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Grandma’s Peanut Butter Divinity Pinwheels

Spinning hay into gold is an impressive feat, even in the realm of fairytales, but Grandma Smith could spin sugar syrup into fine silver threads, and that was only the beginning. Fluffy white rounds of divinity with a swirl of peanut butter in the center—now that was worth its weight in gold. Every Christmas, Grandma invited a few family members into her small kitchen to help prepare this divine treat. Sometimes this privilege included Aunt Thelma, my mother and me. Even now, as I put on my apron and begin to assemble the ingredients for Grandma’s recipe, it’s as though I have slipped back in time, into my Grandma’s kitchen—a little girl again. ——————— Standing next to Grandma, my head just above stovetop level, I am mesmerized as she lifts the wooden spoon from the clear boiling syrup. “Watch for the silver thread to spin, now,” she explains. “That tells…

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The Angel Under the Bed

I stubbed my toe on an angel this morning. I had smoothed out the blankets as I made the bed, and was fluffing the pillows when I got careless. There is an angel under my bed. He is about five feet tall, counting his “Glory to God In the Highest” banner. He wears a bright blue robe and his face reflects exaltation and joy. I forgot that he was there. My big toe is now various hues of black, blue and purple. So, I am trying to decide what to do with my heavenly messenger. He resides under my bed, covered with a sheet, for ten months out of the year. I pull him out from under the bed in mid-December to proclaim his “Gloria” to all visitors who come through the front door during the Christmas season. He is so magnificent that I also give him sentry duty for…

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Seeing Christmas Clearly: Erik’s Gift

“Oh, there they are; thank Goodness,” I exclaimed. My sons, seven year old Brent and three year old Erik, had just spent several minutes searching the living room for my reading glasses–again. I had already misplaced them once that morning. “I do not have time for this kind of frustration,” I grumbled. With only three days until Christmas, I felt rushed and distracted and I had been careless. So, there we were, again, crawling around on the floor looking for my glasses. We looked under and behind the sofa, including lifting up each cushion. We checked behind the drapes and on the piano. I was heading for the armchair when Erik spotted them. They were poking out from under the pile of wrapping paper, tags, ribbons and bows that were scattered on the floor. “Hooray for Erik! Thank you, thank you,” I told him as I hugged him. “I need…

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