Category: Christmas

Five Principles of Power Series – The Importance of Anticipation

Christmas at our house was as if the windows of heaven had opened.

There were piles of shiny, colorful goods scattered all through the living room. As the oldest of nine children, I had the privilege of seeing every one of those childhood Christmases. What made it so wonderful wasn’t what was in each pile, but the abundance of goods scattered neatly about. Walking into that living room in the dimness of early morning, the red, green, and orange of the Christmas tree giving a soft glow, was magic.

My parents weren’t wealthy; in fact, I would say that we were in the lower half of the middle class most of the time and slipped even lower on occasion during my growing-up years. Their secret to such extravagance at this one time of year was the Five and Dime, the Dollar store of the past. There might be one long-sought-after item, while the rest was a world of possibilities, of hours of fun that we hadn’t even thought of.

The truth was that the contents of the piles didn’t radically change from year to year, that is, until we entered our teens; but until then, the same things, with a few changes, would be found year after year. We never grew tired of it because it was always about possibilities; it was freshly new. There would be color books, crayons, colored pencils, markers, scissors, glue, glitter, colored paper, pipe cleaners, sequins, paint, and chalk. We would find marbles, gyroscopes, pick-up sticks, etch-a-sketch, magic erase boards, silly putty, paddle balls, board games, and clay, which eventually gave way to playdough. There would be card games, flash cards of every variety, and paper dolls. There were small doll houses with furniture, people, cars, and animals. There were toy soldiers, cowboys and Indians, plastic farm animals with fences and barns, sewing cards, and an occasional kit. And don’t forget the books, lots and lots of delightful books. Things rarely squeaked, talked, boomed, crashed, or moved by themselves. All that had to be provided by us and our infinite imaginations. Those abundant and homely Christmases were a wonderful gift that our parents gave us. We knew what was coming for the most part, but my parents had a way of making it all seem so special.

What made them even more wonderful was the sense of anticipation.

If we want our children to engage with family work, family meals, and family activities, it’s helpful to create a sense of wonder and possibility, to increase the sense of anticipation. This can happen more often when you remember and use the 5 Principles of Power: Structure time and be consistent, remain present, make it special, keep it simple, and plan ahead.

When things you do as a family, even things kids don’t look forward to, such as family work, have a sense of anticipation, they go better. The content of the activity doesn’t have to be amazing or new to have the success my parents had at Christmas. When there is a sense of anticipation, your family will work together better, enjoy each other more, and even do homework with less fussing. : )

Let’s look at family work because I know you are all saying, “No way will this be successful.” : )

Structure time and be Consistent – Let’s say you’ve set Thursday evening for your family to work together and get the basic chores done. Notice I didn’t choose Friday or Saturday. If you have teens, they will be busy. : )

You remain present with your kids. You check on each one over the time you have committed to this family activity. An hour is good. Look in a bedroom door, “Hey, how’s it going?” “Need any help?” “Wow, you’re doing a good job!” “Here, let me help you with that.” Stop by the child doing dishes and rinse a few, while smiling. Check on the one doing the bathroom and wink as you make a funny comment.

Make it special – When you finish the work, serve ice cream cones. Maybe watch a TV show together. Possibly, you sit at the table and tell jokes or play a game. Every family’s different. What does your family love?

Keep it simple – Have chores assigned and rotate them. Everyone knows what they need to do each Thursday.

Plan ahead – Know if there are any school or community activities coming up that could interfere and adjust. Remind everyone the day before, “Remember tomorrow night is Family Work Night. We’re going to have Oreos and milk.”

When you create a feeling of anticipation and are consistent, then even family work can be successful. Remember, nothing is perfect. Some weeks, family work may not be as successful as others, but your consistency, over time, will make a difference.

When you want to engage with a child or your family, ask yourself the question: “How can I create a sense of anticipation by using the five principles of power in this situation?”

Success is possible for any family that learns and uses the five rules.

Peter and the Boy – A True Christmas Story by Lynda Huddleston

My mother had a stroke in February. She wasn’t doing well and was put in hospice. In the ensuing months, she had an astonishing recovery and will be leaving hospice at the end of December. Her current nurse, Laurie, said it’s a joy because it rarely happens.

Our hospice caregivers have been wonderful, and we’ve enjoyed getting to know them. They have made a difference in our lives. This week, we had a visit from Lynda Huddleston, who is the chaplain currently visiting us. She brought a story she had written to read to Mom. It shares a true event that happened at Christmas, when she was working in a care center.

I sat and wept as she read. It was a beautiful example of the gifts we give to others when our hearts have been touched. I asked Lynda if I could share it with you, my readers, and listeners. Thankfully, she said, “Yes.” These will be some of the best moments you spend as we wind down this Christmas season. ENJOY! Merry Christmas.

Peter and the Boy

On the second Friday of the month, in the front room of our assisted living, you could always find music, laughter, and the soft rustle of anticipation—along with most of the ladies leaning in a little closer as Cowboy Andrew began to sing.

Tall beneath his Stetson, with a baritone smooth as molasses, he filled the room with country songs that stirred memories and sometimes tears. Andrew had been part of our calendar long before I joined the staff, and none of us imagined the day would come when he would need us. But when he chose our community for his father, Peter, to spend his last days, we were honored beyond words.

Peter arrived frail and worn from years of illness. When first diagnosed, doctors had given him less than a year to live. Yet when he came to us, he was in his sixth year—still defying the odds. While he was able to enjoy more time with his family during these gifted years, he also endured more than most: the quiet passing of his wife, the dimming of sight in one eye, and the slow betrayal of a once-strong body—the same one that had stood, steady and proud, on countless riverbanks, casting lines beside his boy. Yet through it all, Peter remained fiercely independent—determined to live, and eventually die, on his own terms. Most of us wondered how he had managed to hold on so long, through such battles, but Peter was sure there was something more for him.

We tended to his basic needs at first, waiting quietly, expecting little. But as the days passed and fall deepened, the air turning cooler outside our windows, Peter seemed to gather strength along with the season. Soon, his voice grew lighter, his appetite returned, and his one special request—Diet Pepsi on ice—became a daily ritual.

Even from his bed, his presence still filled the room. A former Air Force officer and instructor, his frame carried quiet authority. We introduced him to the other gentlemen, and before long, his room became a favorite gathering spot. They swapped stories of hunting and fishing, shared memories of service, and laughed over old times. With Andrew beside him, the bond of father and son was plain to see.

Peter never asked for much, but he welcomed the company. We carried coffee hours into his room, complete with cookies—which he enjoyed with such delight that we suspected they meant as much to him as the conversations. Day by day, he taught us the beauty of savoring small gifts.

As December came and we realized Peter would most likely not see another holiday season, we began to look for ways to include him in the festivities. One particular evening, a storm was blowing hard across town. Snow fell thick and heavy, and for a time, we weren’t sure if our visitors would make it. But slowly, car after car pulled in, headlights glowing through the snow, doors flying open as laughing, joyful teenagers poured into our building, brushing snow from their coats.

They were a large local youth group of thirty—too many for one area—so we divided them into six smaller groups. Each rotated through different areas of the building where residents were eagerly waiting—some sang carols, some shared holiday messages, and others told stories about their favorite ornaments. Peter’s room was one of the stops, and I had gathered the men of the building there, along with Peter and his son Andrew.

Before bringing each group to Peter, I paused with them in the hallway. With his permission, I explained what they would see: Peter’s illness showed—he was thin and frail—but he was also very much alive and eager for their company. I told them this would most likely be his last holiday season, and that their presence here, on a cold December night, was a gift beyond measure.

One of the groups was a circle of boys around fourteen or fifteen. Each had brought along a favorite ornament, their faces lighting up as they told the stories behind them. One boy, about fourteen, carried a homemade gingerbread ornament he had made years before. He laughed as he told how every Christmas he had to fight his brothers to keep them from eating it, his voice animated as he relived the battles and the triumph of seeing it hung on the tree each year.

As I watched each group enter and then leave Peter’s room, I was overwhelmed and moved at the understanding on their faces of the significance of those moments. What began as a simple holiday visit was transforming into something sacred, a memory none of us would ever forget.

A night of routine activity was becoming magical.

As the last rotation wrapped up, we gathered everyone, residents and youth, into the front room. All of the residents were sitting in a large circle with the youth surrounding them. As we thanked them all for the stories and treats, we decided to sing a few Christmas carols before they left. The beauty of their voices—young and old, all singing together—filled the room with holiday joy and spirit; overwhelming and touching.

As we were singing, I felt a tug at my shirt. I turned to see the young boy with the gingerbread ornament motioning for me to join him in the dining room. With tears on his face, he asked if it would be okay for him to give his ornament to Peter. The ornament he had fought for years to protect, he now wanted—no, needed—to give to Peter.

I stood watching as he placed the ornament in Peter’s hands, and saw the smile on Peter’s face as he realized how deeply the boy’s heart had been touched in giving him this gift. I was reminded how powerful a simple gesture can be.

Peter hadn’t defied the odds and stayed longer for himself, or because he feared letting go. He had lived a full and good life and was at peace with where he was going. There was simply one more purpose to fulfill.

Peter was here for the boy. To leave a mark that would outlast his own days. To show him, in a way words never could, that a single moment of kindness can echo for a lifetime.

I have no doubt in my heart that this young boy was changed that night—and someday will touch someone else’s heart with the story of Peter and the Boy.

Written by Lynda Huddleston.

Thank you, Lynda, for letting me share.

Lynda is a certified End of Life doula and chaplain for Primrose Homecare and Hospice. The picture is of her and the original gingerbread boy.

How Being Inspired Transforms the Quality and Effectiveness of Our Education

Inspiration To Become A Cake Decorator

When I was in ninth grade, I moved to Salt Lake City. I was intimidated by the size of the building, the number of students, and how challenging the work was. My grades dropped into the bucket. It was a long year!

At Easter, I noticed a beautiful sugar egg in the home economics room. It was the upcoming project. I asked if the ninth graders were going to do it, only to find that it was reserved for the Juniors and Seniors. I knew I would never get to make one because we moved too often.

I wanted to make that egg. I asked the teacher if I could please have a copy of the directions. She gave them to me. I had been INSPIRED, and the teacher had responded.

I had none of the hard materials needed for the project. So, I improvised. Instead of a plastic egg mold, I used an empty Leggs nylon container. Instead of pastry bags, I used bread sacks with a hole cut in a corner. Instead of plastic bunnies and chicks, I used hand-drawn figures. My mom had those eggs for years. They were terrible! I was happy with them and thought they were beautiful. This initial inspiration and desire began a 50+ year love affair with cake decorating.

One of the most enjoyable things I did with this decorating spark was teach thousands of children and adults to make gingerbread houses. My family and I gave hundreds away to homeless shelters and community centers. I taught all my children and grandchildren to make them. Every year, I helped my kids help their friends make gingerbread houses in their school classes. I’ll bet you can tell this became a family tradition. In fact, just this Saturday, Jodie went to Maggie’s special needs class, and they all made a gingerbread house.

Just Before Christmas Essay Competition

I am sharing this story of my fascination with decorating because in 2010, I hosted a Just Before Christmas Essay Competition. The prize was a kit so the family could do this wonderful activity.

The topic was The Inspiration Connection: How Being Inspired Transforms the Quality and Effectiveness of Our Education. The winner was a friend of mine who lived in Nevada. Her boys were older teens. I sent the kit, and they all had a fabulous time making their houses.

Jody Jarvis was a homeschool mom. However, her beautiful essay applies to all families regardless of how you choose to educate your kids. It applies to school subjects and anything we want to inspire our kids to learn or participate in. When decorating came into my life, I was inspired. Jody shares a great example of how inspiring her kids and being an example increased their desire to learn and participate in a family activity.

All these years later, Jody lives just a couple of miles from my home. I have visited her and recently attended a big family event. It was fun, and one of the things that got me to reread her winning essay. Enjoy.

The Inspiration Connection: How Being Inspired Transforms the Quality and Effectiveness of Our Education

by Jody Jarvis

When educational experiences are required, the result is bored students, who daydream, who memorize the minimum required, and forget it the next day. For the student, the learning experience seems to drag on forever (“Are we done yet?”), and minutes seem like an eternity. For the teacher, it seems like pulling teeth just to get the student to participate.

When educational experiences are inspired, the result is excited students who focus on the activity with zeal, who go above and beyond the expected, and remember it the rest of their lives. For the student, the learning experience seems to fly by (Are we done already?!), hours seem like mere minutes. For the teacher, it feels as if the student is pulling them along instead of the other way around, or that the student is hot on their heels and the race to the finish could be won by either participant – them or the student.

Recently, I had an experience in both scenarios. My kids and I participated in an online class and had to read several classic books. Two stood out. One was called Mythology by Hamilton. While the stories themselves can be considered classic, our family’s opinion of this rendition was not great. It was dry reading, and we had to push ourselves to even try. None of us finished the book, with me having read the least of the three of us. We did it only because it was part of the class, but it seemed to drag on “FOREVER!!” We tried to read the minimum required, but couldn’t even pull that off. Our attention, as we read, was on other things, and so, for the most part, I do not think we will remember much of what we read.

The other story was a different experience altogether. It was called Elantris by Brandon Sanderson. We couldn’t read it fast enough. We couldn’t put it down. Since we read separately to mark our books with our personal ah-ha’s and underline our favorite lines, I was ahead of the boys in the story. When I got to the exciting parts, I would exclaim over the storyline or hint that something amazing was coming up. But I wouldn’t tell them what it was. “You have to read it yourself!” I would say. I didn’t want to spoil it for them. They tried their best to catch up to where I was. There came a time when none of us could put the book down; we just had to see how it turned out.

To get my kids (and me) to read the first book, we had to remind each other, set aside time each day, remind each other that it was part of a class assignment, and remind each other again of our need to read it. In other words – require. To get them to read the second book, all I had to do was give them a taste of how much I was enjoying it, to add a little mystery and suspense, and be the example. In other words – inspire!

What did we learn from the first book? Not much, really. Maybe a tiny bit about the Greek Gods and how depraved they were, but not much else, and I am sure we will forget whatever it was we did get out of it in a matter of weeks, perhaps.

What did we learn from the second book? Tons! We learned about different leadership styles, we learned that a leader must continue even when it gets hard, and we learned about compassion, strategy, love, and loyalty.

The difference was partly the books we read (one was very dry, the other exciting and thrilling). But I also believe that my example as a parent played a huge part. I lost interest in the Mythology book. I decided I needed to work on other things (convincing myself that since I wasn’t a true member of the class, I didn’t need to finish the reading). How might this have played out differently if I had put more effort into learning about Mythology with my kids? How might it have been different if I were excited to read the book, read it ahead of them, and enticed them with hints of what was to come in the next chapters? I was excited by Elantris, and my enthusiasm pulled my kids along. When they were asked which was their favorite book in the class, they both said Elantris. Least favorite? I’ll leave it to you to guess, but I bet you already know.

Now, what should I inspire them

about next…?

A Children’s Christmas Play – Enjoying Kids Being Kids

A fun Christmas season activity is watching children perform Christmas plays. When Maggie was five and Jack was three, they had the opportunity to be in a play depicting the First Christmas. All the actors were under eleven, and many were under five years old. Maggie has severe cerebral palsy, which posed challenges; fortunately for her, Cindie Walker, her best friend, was the director. Maggie needed to be placed in a stander to participate in an upright position, without her wheelchair. Cindy had spent a great deal of time with Maggie and wasn’t put off by what was required to work with her. In fact, the beauty of this director was that she wasn’t put off by working with any of the children, no matter how young. She had a vision that I loved. It wasn’t about the outcome, but about how everyone would feel when it was over.

I know you’ll get a kick out of how this play went, what it took to bring it about, the outcome of everyone’s efforts, and the blessing it was for those who performed and watched. I know you’ll love the photos. I also know that it will prompt you to reflect on how you interact with children when things get messy. Enjoy every delightful minute of my long-ago experience. Merry Christmas! As always, there will be a lesson at the end. : )

The First Practice

One of the angels wanted to look like a pirate. He was desperate to look like a pirate and was insistent! All the angels were taking off their halos because they itched. The angel who was supposed to say, “Follow the star”, felt it was more important to say, “Point to the star.” That was his plan come play night.

The Roman soldier kept pulling on his robe and saying, “I look silly.” Mary kept losing her headpiece. Maggie, my granddaughter with cerebral palsy, was supposed to wear a headpiece. That was not going to work at all. She was supposed to say, “We are afraid”. She said it the best she could, as her ability to speak was minimal, and she said it with a huge smile. She couldn’t find it in herself to look afraid. Many small shepherds were wandering about, trying to figure out where they were supposed to be.

This is what it’s like working with children, especially young or special needs children. You can pull out your hair or feel joy at the experience you’re giving them.

These children were in luck. Cindy Walker smiled through the chaos. She gently called the small children back into place. She helped with lines that would never be memorized. She replaced halos, headpieces, and robes, and kept smiling. She didn’t laugh out loud at the silly things the children said and did, even though she wanted to.

She told me it didn’t matter how the play went. No matter what, she wanted parents to smile, children to feel good, and hearts to be touched. For her, perfection wasn’t what mattered. Even reasonably well run wasn’t at the top of her list. She wasn’t worried about what others would think about the result. She wanted every child to have a wonderful time, to feel proud and happy about their efforts, and for the spirit of the season to be abundant and warm.

The Second Practice/Dress Rehearsal

None of the angels, all 3 and under, would wear their costumes. This did not bode well! Joseph and Mary weren’t sure they liked their parts, especially saying, “I’m going to have a baby!” The soldier still felt silly. Headpieces were still falling off, belts were missing, halos still itched, no one remembered where they were supposed to stand, many parts were not memorized, and the little shepherd still smiled when saying, “We are afraid.”

Cindy, bless her heart, was still smiling. She replaced headpieces, reminded children of their lines, and gently called small angels and shepherds into place. Her concern for the children and how they felt was still her top priority. She reminded herself and other adults that this play was about having an experience, learning to do something new, feeling good, and having fun. It wasn’t about perfection.

The Performance

Behind the scenes, chaos reigned; there was noise, lots of it. There were many moms and even more children moving around. Cindy was running madly from one crisis to another, hoping everything would fall reasonably into place.

BEGIN!!!

All the angels wore their costumes. WOW!! All the headpieces stayed on, except for our happy little shepherd, who still smiled broadly as she said, “We are afraid!” Joseph and Mary were still not thrilled.

The little angel who wanted to say “Point to the star” wouldn’t leave his dad’s side and come on stage until all the other angels left the stage, and the shepherds were on their way in. Then he went and sat by the baby Jesus and made happy boy sounds with his plastic cup! (This was my grandson, Jack, age 3.) As the shepherds, wise men, and angels gathered around the baby Jesus, it was a mob, juggling each other for a space, mostly with their backs to the audience.

The audience sang loudly as each carol was introduced. Parents smiled, children felt good, and hearts were touched. Eyes were wet. The play was reasonably well run. Cindie was happy, despite being tired. What mattered had gone perfectly. Every child had a wonderful time. They each experienced something new. They felt proud and happy. The spirit of the season was abundant. Ah, success!

When we work with children, whether in a play, doing a craft, or baking, etc., we need to be prepared for childlike behavior. The more open we are to letting kids be kids and working gently and joyfully with them, the better the outcome will be. We will walk away happy and fulfilled, rather than drained. We won’t mind the mess, the silliness, or what doesn’t go as planned. That was the brilliance of Cindie’s vision. This is what being present with kids looks like.

This is what success looks like.

A Simple and Peaceful Holiday Celebration

In 2011 I wrote a three-part series of articles about a principle that helps families manage better. I must confess it’s a principle I still work on because it isn’t easy to keep. I know the stories and the principle are worth repeating because principles never change and when lived, they impact us for good. I’m compiling the three-part series into one article. That will keep it simple for you. LOL

A Simple and Peaceful Holiday Celebration

I believe that intentionally keeping things simple is a principle that leads to peace. I want to share how my husband, Don, and I used this principle in 2011 to have that peace. We decided we weren’t going to spend any money. You heard right, no money (except for shipping.) We would have to give it some thought to bring it about. Also, we were going to be picky about what events we joined in.

We did well at keeping our decision. We did spend a little over $20 on three children, bought some cookie-making ingredients, and Don cheated and bought me a book. He knows I love books. LOL

How This Decision to Simplify Brought Us Peace

We only went shopping once, for forty minutes. Not shopping was an amazing experience. It gave us more time to be together. We spent time each evening curled up on our sofa reading Christmas stories and drinking hot cocoa. It was wonderful. We didn’t have to fight traffic, or crowds, or worry about accumulating debt. That was very freeing.

We sent our grown children books, which we selected out of our personal library. We choose what would be meaningful to them, would help them in some way, or that they would love reading. Our sons, like their dad, are not readers, but Don loves coffee table books, and we knew the boys would too. We also sent mementos of the past that we felt would bring joy and touch the hearts of our children.

What Happened For Two of Our Sons

We sent Seth a karate gee he wore when he was nine. He told me how fun it was to receive because it still fit. He said, “The legs and sleeves are short, but it fits.” He was in his 30’s at the time. He was glad to know that the gee still existed, and he now had it. He loved the gift.

We sent Andrew a Christmas plaque that had hung in our home since the year he was born. I made it and it was a homely little thing. His sister, Jenny, who roomed with him at the time, said when he opened his gift, his eyes got tearful. He said it was a ‘cool’ present and he thought Jenny was a tad jealous. : )

How Did We Do with the Grands

I worried about how our grandchildren would feel about their gifts. To one family, with four children, we sent ten envelopes, each containing a picture or story and six small pieces of candy. Each story or picture had something to do with the Christmas season and its purpose. It was just paper and a few bits of candy. Yet when I asked Marie what the children thought she replied, “They were so excited.” Aubrey, who was eleven said, “We have the best grandma and grandpa in the whole world”. This from an almost teenager!

The grands all loved whatever they got. It didn’t matter if it was large or small. Not one was disappointed that money hadn’t been spent.

Going the Extra Mile and Not Going

For the 21 years we lived in Laurel, MT. my best friend, Linda Brannon, would bring us a HUGE platter of assorted cookies. Because we had seven children, she didn’t bring a token plate, she brought a platter. It was the highlight of the season for our kids, even though I was a baker. LOL For Linda it was a labor of love, and our children knew she loved our family.

About a week before Christmas in 2011, Jodie, my oldest daughter, mentioned she felt nostalgic about those cookies. I decided I would recreate the experience for her as a special gift. I took one Saturday and baked up a storm. Then Don and I gifted the cookies to her.

Later she told me this story. Her husband had been feeling a bit down. He didn’t have the Christmas spirit. Both of Doug’s parents are deceased. Jodie said that when the cookies came into their home his entire countenance changed. He became animated, happy, and full of joy. I think it reminded him of his mother and home.

I decided to have another baking day to give more cookies to other families. In the moment of that thought I had a clear impression, “LET IT GO, it isn’t necessary.” I followed that thought and spent the day loving and being present with my family instead.

And What About Mom?

I wanted to do something special for my mom, she was 80 and lived alone. She had everything she needed as far as worldly possessions. Here is what she didn’t have, the sure knowledge that she has done a good job as a parent even though it ought to be obvious to her. But mothers do this, they worry about what they didn’t do and undervalue what they do.

I pondered what to give her. I had an idea I am sure was from God. It was to write her a letter. I even had thoughts about what to say. I sat down and wrote a nice letter. When I prepared to mail it, I felt, “No, it isn’t done.” I STOPPED and thought about it some more. Then I spent the next five hours rewriting the letter. It took a lot longer than I had anticipated. I dug through old papers and found the poems she had written to accompany her gifts to us. For example, one year she sent a HUGE box of homemade caramel corn with this poem.

A Kernel of Love

Sometimes all you can do is not very much

For reasons hard to define.

Yet you’d like to do “oh so many things”

To make everything “just fine”.

This package is all I have to offer

To show how much we care.

But every kernel is a bit of love

And the sweet is the love we share.

May you remember the things we’ve done,

With fondness, with each tasty bite.

And maybe somehow, we can join our souls,

And everything “Will Be Alright”!

by NaVon Cazier

This was one of our children’s favorite gifts that year. I ended the letter with this:

“All the years of my growing up you demonstrated to me how to live gracefully and abundantly no matter what was happening. I think this has been an amazing gift and has made it possible for me to do the same. All I can give you this year Mom, is my love and gratitude for a mother who lived fully despite lots of kids, no money, no car, and you being alone a lot of the time. It has made all the difference in my life. I love you so much. Merry Christmas.”

One Final Story from Our Christmas of Peace Experiment

My father was an educator. He developed a testing device to find learning disabilities in children and spent many years working with them. However, in his heart of hearts, he was a restaurateur. We always had a drive-in or restaurant of some kind.

He was also a preparer, preparing for what might happen in life. He loved storing food, blankets, water, you name it. When he passed away, we had a basement of ‘stuff’ to sift through. One of the things we found was a box of bagged nutmeg. We are talking pounds of nutmeg! After my five sisters took what they wanted I came home with about 40 pounds of the spice.

As we contemplated what we could do to show our friends, neighbors, and church members our appreciation for their friendship over the years we had an idea. We bagged the nutmeg into ¼ pound bags and tied them to four delicious and delightful nutmeg cookie recipes.

As Kate, our one remaining child at home, and I bagged nutmeg, I felt my father was with us, was happy we hadn’t thrown the nutmeg away, and happy that we were putting it to good use. When we had made over 100 gift bags to share, I had about 6 pounds left. Then I had this distinct impression: “Save the rest. You can barter it.” Good grief, that was so my dad. : )

What About the Parties?

We decided not to attend everything that came along. We were going to be picky about where and when we celebrated. We attended Don’s work party, and one church party, went to Temple Square with my youngest daughter’s future in-laws, and spent time in the homes of family. That was it.

I really do believe that keeping things simple brings peace whether we’re talking about family schedules, how we prepare our homes or yards, birthdays, our work, or the gifts we give at Christmas. It’s paramount to remember what is important. Keeping it Simple, is vital to peace of mind, doing what is needed, and making way for good things to come into our lives.

What I am not saying is that we shouldn’t shop, buy gifts, attend parties, or cook for a week, if that is what we are moved to do. What I am saying is that it’s important to avoid unrealistic expectations from ourselves and others. It’s important to avoid needless busyness. It’s important to determine what is most needful and let the rest go.

Because Don and I made an intentional pact To Keep It Simple, we got what we needed and gave our family what they needed. It was a remarkable season. The sense of peace and joy came from doing less and not from doing it all. The whole point of the decision that Don and I made in 2011 was to live the principle of keeping it simple and peaceful. Our intentional efforts paid dividends.

May each of you have a simpler and more peaceful holiday season. I plan to do the same.

Intentionally keeping things simple will help us feel and be more successful.

Christmas Past – A Gift of Charity

I wrote this true short story many decades ago for my parents, for Christmas. I was working on letting them know how much I appreciated all they had given me despite the lacks in my family of origin. Isn’t that how it is in most families. Our parents can only bring to their parenting what they have and they add to their skills as they go. Being the first child, I experienced some of those lacks but as I grew, I also saw my parents grow. Anyway, I wanted them to know how grateful I was.

I posted it on my old website way back in 2011. I can’t believe that ten years have gone by! I wouldn’t have thought to repost it this year except for an unusual happening. I was asked to submit a Christmas story for an anthology, which I did. I submitted this story.

I have to say that it doesn’t match most of the stories in Tis the Season: A Christmas Survival Guide. The stories are not the magical kind we usually read about but are filled with tales of the chaos and sometimes hurt that accompanies the holiday for many. I don’t know why my story was chosen as it is peaceful and loving. It is also the final story in the book. I suppose it was becuase I ended it with ‘Merry Christmas.’ : )

At any rate, it caused me to think again about this family happening and my parents who were doing their very best for me and my siblings. I thought it might bring some treasured Christmas memories to your mind at this season of family and Christ. I hope you enjoy the read, the heart, and the generosity of both parent and child.

Christmas Past – A Gift of Charity

A true short story, written by Mary Ann Johnson years ago when her children were young, and she was remembering.

black and white photo of little girl smiling — Mary Ann, almost five, see the buttons!

THE HEATER MADE a steady hum as it singed the small bits of pine I had placed on top. I’d never seen a heater like it until we moved into the new house. It was brown, shiny, and huge. It wasn’t as homey as Grandma’s Ben Franklin, but it was warm and didn’t create clinkers, for which I was grateful. The pine was Mother’s idea. She liked the smell the needles gave off as they slowly turned brown.

I was five years old, and Idaho Falls was cold and windy. Inside, it was warm and cozy. There were six of us, and the house was small. I saw it years later and small was a generous word for it. At the time, it seemed perfect.

Christmas was coming, and as always during that season, the sewing machine was humming away. Pieces of black velvet and red taffeta littered the floor. I noticed the buttons first, the most beautiful buttons in the world, shiny white with rhinestone centers. Those buttons were a treasure sewn on a cardboard square. I would have paid at least a quarter for them, a vast sum hidden away in my bank.

But the buttons weren’t for sale. They were going onto elegant dresses that my sisters and I watched take shape until I could hold back my curiosity no longer.

woman smiling picture — NaVon, our mom, a mere 23 years old.

“Mom, are the dresses for us? Can we wear them?”

“No,” she replied.

Who else would they be for?

With patience, mom explained that there was a family who needed help making Christmas special. We had so much, she said. She ticked our blessings off on her fingers. I remember the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I had never had a beautiful dress like that, never a dress with buttons that shone like stars.

As the days passed, the emptiness in my stomach was being filled, for as my mother sewed, she poured into me a feeling of gratitude for blessings received and a spirit of giving. She made me a co-conspirator. I cared for the baby, played quietly, and picked up those lovely scraps so she could continue to sew.

Soon the dresses were finished and gone. The gifts of love had been delivered. Then my mother began pouring charity into the empty place that the actual departure of the dresses left.

“Now girls, when we go to church, you’ll see those dresses on three other little girls. Don’t say a word. We want them to feel happy and proud. This is our special Christmas secret. Remember that it’s important for people to have dignity and be happy.”

We three, Cindy, Shirley, and I, turned our young faces to her and beamed. We trusted the words of our mother. We knew we could keep the secret. I had a feeling of joy in my stomach. Emptiness no longer lingered there.

Christmas night was torture. Every child has felt the pangs of anxiety: will the doll be there, the train, the blocks? Every child has felt the excitement. How can I wait? How can I sleep? Sleep stayed away for a long time.

It was still dark when we raced to Mom and Dad’s room. They arose slowly—too slowly! — finding slippers and waking the baby. Then there was the interminable wait as Dad lit the tree and turned up the heat. Finally, we were free to run pell-mell into an ecstasy that would last all day.

three sisters smiling picture — Shirley Kay, Cindy Lu, Mary Ann

What? I stopped short. There they were among the gifts: those buttons attached to black velvet and red taffeta dresses. What a surprise and joy.

As I sailed into church later that day, I was wearing a prized gift, but the most precious Christmas gift I received that season was carried in my heart: gratitude for what I had, the love of sharing, and charity for others. This gift, given to me by my mother so many Christmases ago, has made all the difference in the quality of my life. Thanks, Mom!

Also, a thank you to my dad, who is now gone. He made wonderful toys with his own hands. We had them for many, many years, and they delighted all nine of us children.

Merry Christmas!

That’s how dad/mom did it, and that’s how I do it!

This season I have been thinking back to Christmases past and the traditions that my parents passed on to me. My parents were masters at making the holiday fantastic and I am in awe of their ability to make something special out of so little.

When I was eight, there were four of us kids and five more to come. But I recall Christmas as being an abundant time. I suspect that for most of those years, the gifts weren’t big or elaborate. I recall very few gifts that I received over the years. Those that were memorable were because they came with sacrifice, but that telling is for another day. The things I remember well were the traditions. From my first Christmas until the last one I spent at home, there were some things you could depend on no matter how tight the budget.

Oranges!

There was always a case of oranges. Fruit was scarce in my home. It was pricy and other than apples we didn’t have a lot. So, a case of oranges was like a case of gold and is one reason I eat oranges in the strange way that I do. My husband always teases me about it. You peel the orange. Then you chew all the white coating off the peel. Then you eat the sections one at a time by nibbling them. Even a case of oranges doesn’t add up to many for each person when you have a big family.

Nuts!

There were always nuts, huge bowls of nuts. Nuts were inexpensive back in the day. There would be a bowl of walnuts and another bowl of mixed nuts. I recall my frustration in trying to crack them. The walnuts were the easiest to manage, but they weren’t my favorite. I LOVED the brazil nuts, and they were the hardest to crack. I got better at it as I aged. I still love brazil nuts.

Pomegranates!

These were harder to come by, but I think most years, my parents managed it. There might be one in your sock. But some years, there would be a bowl full. We learned to love them in our short stint in Red Bluff, CA. Our neighbor had a tree, and it hung over our fence. She would let us pick a few. We loved her and her pomegranates. I was in my sixties before I learned how to peel them, so it wasn’t such a pain. But pain or not, I loved pomegranates.

You could find these same items on my counter every Christmas for the last fifty Christmases. Traditions matter. The good ones and the bad, and every family has both. We need to pay attention to what we are passing down to our kids because, like it or not, they will most likely pass it down to theirs.

I am reading and implementing the book A Complaint Free World: The 21 Day challenge that will change your life. In it, Will Bowen said, “I can remember my dad in the kitchen. Whenever he cooked, he took a dishtowel and draped it over his left shoulder; he called it his ‘left shoulder cooking towel’… Today whenever I am in the kitchen, you will always find me with my own ‘left shoulder cooking towel.’ And it’s never on the right shoulder, always the left. That’s how dad did it, and that’s how I do it. Perhaps my dad had seen his father do this and was following after him – who knows?

All I know is that I picked it up from him. He never sought to instill this idiosyncrasy in me, but his behavior did so. And I know that, whether I intend to or not, I’m passing along things to all the time.”

How we ‘are’ and how we ‘respond’ can become traditions and habits for our children. We want to pass on what will be remembered with fondness, and that will improve our children’s lives. The beginning of a new year is a good time to check in on our ‘way of being’ and determine if there is ONE thing we may want to change before it becomes a tradition or a habit for our kids. Remember only work on ONE thing at a time.

You can find four steps to making permanent changes in your way of being HERE.

Share your family traditions. We would all love to hear them. Then share this article with those you love and care about. : )

Christmas Dresses – A True Story

A true short story, written by Mary Ann Johnson years ago when her children were young and she was remembering

Christmases past.

The heater made a steady hum as it singed the small bits of pine I had placed on top. I’d never seen one like it until we moved into the new house. It was brown, shiny, and huge. It wasn’t as homey as Grandma’s Ben Franklin, but it was warm and didn’t create clinkers, for which I was grateful. The pine was mother’s idea. She liked the smell the needles gave off as they slowly turned brown.

Mary Ann Johnson, age five. Pay attention to the buttons!

I was five years old and Idaho Falls was cold and windy. Inside it was warm and cozy. There were six of us and the house was small. I saw it years later and small was a generous word for it. At the time it seemed perfect.

Christmas was coming and as it always did during that season, the sewing machine was humming away. Pieces of black velvet and red taffeta littered the floor. I noticed the buttons first; the most beautiful buttons in the world, shiny white with rhinestone centers. Those buttons were a treasure sewn on a cardboard square. I would have paid at least a quarter for them, a vast sum hidden away in my bank.

But the buttons weren’t for sale. They were going onto elegant dresses that my sisters and I watched take shape until I could hold back my curiosity no longer. “Mom, are the dresses for us? Can we wear them?” “No”, she replied. Who else would they be for?

With patience, she explained that there was a family who needed help making Christmas special. We had so much she said. She ticked our blessings off on her fingers. I remember the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I had never had a beautiful dress like that, never a dress with buttons that shone like stars.

As the days passed, the emptiness in my stomach was being filled, for as my mother sewed, she poured into me a feeling of gratitude for blessings received and a spirit of giving. She made me a co-conspirator. I cared for the baby, played quietly and picked up those lovely scraps so she could continue to sew.

Soon the dresses were finished and gone. The gifts of love had been delivered. Then my mother began pouring charity into the empty place that the actual departure of the dresses left. “Now girls, when we go to church, you’ll see those dresses on three other little girls. Don’t say a word. We want them to feel happy and proud. This is our special Christmas secret. Remember that it’s important for people to have dignity and be happy.”

We three, Cindy, Shirley and I turned our young faces to her and beamed. We trusted the words of our mother. We knew we could keep the secret. I had a feeling of joy in my stomach. Emptiness no longer lingered there.

Christmas night was torture. Every child has felt the pangs of anxiety; will the doll be there, the train, the blocks? Every child has felt the excitement; how can I wait; how can I sleep? Sleep stayed away for a long time.

It was still dark when we raced to mom and dad’s room. They arose slowly – too slowly! finding slippers and waking the baby. Then there was the interminable wait as dad lit the tree and turned up the heat. Finally, we were free to run pell-mell into an ecstasy that would last all day.

What? I stopped short. There they were those buttons attached to a black velvet and red taffeta dress. What a surprise and joy.

As I sailed into church later that day, I was wearing a prized gift but the most precious Christmas gift I received that season was carried in my heart; gratitude for what I had, the love of sharing and charity for others. This gift, given to me by my mother so many Christmases ago has made all the difference in the quality of my life. Thanks, mom!!

Also, a thank you to my dad who is now gone. He made wonderful toys with his own two hands. We had them for many, many, years and they delighted all nine of us children.

Merry Christmas.

A Gift for You – The Week Before Christmas Packet

Christmas is just around the corner.

It’s a joyous holiday celebrated around the world by both Christians and non-Christians. It’s a time to celebrate family, friendships and for Christians, Christ. It’s filled with parties, gift-giving, food, and fun. BUT it can be exhausting!

If you’re like me, you’ve had Christmases that when all was said and done, felt disappointing. Oh, the gifts were good, and you got everything on your to-do list done but something was missing. After a few decades of thinking about that after-Christmas feeling, I know what it is for me. I didn’t spend enough downtime with my family, I failed to connect heart to heart and laugh to laugh. I was just too busy.

When I pinned this down for myself, I thought, “I bet I’m not the only person out there who feels this way.” So, I compiled a packet of simple, inexpensive and family-centered activities to help myself and others spend some quality time together at Christmas. I combed the Internet and gathered information and links so you wouldn’t have to. You can print the PDF HERE.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to spend five, six or even seven quiet evenings with just you and your family celebrating this remarkably joyous season? I’m with you, it would. We can make that happen by cleaning out our calendar and making a commitment to do it.

When I first put this together I tried it out. I had a few of my grands over and we did two of the activities. We made donut snowmen and donut reindeer. We learned that frosting and candies do not stick on powdered donuts very easily! We learned that if you don’t keep an eye on them, the noses will disappear from the snowmen’s faces. (Jack was that you?)

We learned that working on the floor is perfect, as the mess is right where you can sit in it easily! We learned that cutting pretzels for antlers is not as easy as it looks and if you don’t do it right you have ears. Reindeer look very funny with ear-shaped antlers. We learned that we love working together and that the whole project only took about 20 minutes. Then we ate!

Here’s to spending time as a family, calming the craziness, celebrating together and gearing up for a fabulous 2020. You can print the PDF HERE.

With holiday wishes for joy,
Mary Ann Johnson

Why not share this with someone

you care about. : )

Help Kids Give Christmas from the Heart

Kids LOVE making Christmas gifts. Helping them can seem overwhelming during this very busy season. However, with a bit of thought and time, you can help your children give gifts from the heart.

When I had two children left at home, ages five and eleven, we decided to make Christmas gifts. We had set some guidelines:

They had to be usable and worth giving
They couldn’t cost a lot of money
The child had to be able to make it with minimal help

This was before every home had a computer! What I had instead was a butter-colored, six drawer file cabinet which was filled with things I had collected over a lifetime of teaching children. We searched through files marked Christmas, gifts, sewing, patterns, and so forth until we found the perfect items.

My son, who was eleven, chose to make footstools for his grandparents and dad. I took him to the lumber yard, and he asked scraps and they gave them to him. I took him to the local upholstery shop, and he asked for scraps which they gave to him. In other words, I let my children choose the gifts, helped them gather the supplies for the gifts and then assisted when they needed me in making the gifts. But these gifts really did come from them.

The following ideas are simple, inexpensive and your children will need minimal help. But the satisfaction of giving a gift from the heart will be priceless.

Gifts Kids Can Make for Christmas

1. Make a book for a toddler. Get a small photo album and have your older child print pictures from the Internet or they can draw simple objects. Glue the picture to a piece of heavy paper or poster board which has been cut to fit. Label the item, write a short sentence or paragraph for a story.
2. Write a story for a parent or grandparent. Buy a small notebook with unlined paper or put some plain paper into a folder. Have your child write a story and then illustrate it. If your child is new to writing, you can write their story for them on the pages they have illustrated. Part of the fun with younger children is helping them come up with a story while you write. This can make for wonderfully funny and warm moments together. My Kate, when she was small, wrote two stories that I still have. One was called The Golden Tear and was a fantasy. The other was called “Glass Is Not Cement” a hilarious story of a real experience that she had. (She used an aquarium for a step stool!)
3. Another great gift idea that an older child can make is a Quiet Book. We have made these, and they are just plain fun. This also works well as a project for a whole family. Each member of the family makes one page for the book. Here is a wonderful site that has some darling free templates.
4. Bookmarks. Over the years we have made many, many bookmarks. If you google bookmarks for kids to make and hit images, you will find more ideas than you can shake a stick at! Here is one easy idea.
5. Decorated Wooden Spoon. Here is a gift that I saw on TJEDMUSE, suggested by Debbie. I thought it was a wonderful idea. When I was young, about 11 or 12, I got a wood-burning kit for Christmas and I loved it. Choose a wooden kitchen implement such as a spoon or rolling pin. Use the wood burner to inscribe an inspirational word or picture. If you choose something like a spoon you can turn it into a great wall decoration by adding ribbon and silk flowers to the handle and then hot gluing a hanger on the back of the handle.

6. One year we made corn/rice warmers for our friends. I still have mine. I store it under the head of my bed for cold nights. I just pop it into the microwave for a minute and voila warmth. Because I had children making these, they were very simple. We cut squares from flannel about 9X9. We sewed up three and ½ sides filled them with feed corn which I bought. Rice works just as well. Then we hand sewed the opening shut. I was able to teach my kids how to use the sewing machine and how to sew with a needle and thread. Just a note – When I was teaching my 5-year-old to use the sewing machine I stood behind her and ran the pedal with my foot. I helped her push the material through the feed dog and keep it straight. It worked well and as far as she was concerned, she had done the sewing!

7. Old Fashioned Sugar Cookies. I know, I know, everyone gets cookied to death at Christmas. However, my children loved making them. This is a whole afternoon project or two short afternoons. Kids make the cookie dough, roll it out, bake the cookies and then decorate them. The recipe that I am giving you is very old and uses far more flour than sugar, so they are perfect for frosting. When kids are frosting cookies, it is a messy business and never looks beautiful the way you would do it. But please, don’t help them too much or fix their cookies. What we like to do is let the cookies sit for a couple of hours uncovered so the frosting crusts up a bit. Then we put them in freezer bags and write “A Christmas Gift for New Year’s Eve – please freeze” on the bag. Add a bow and maybe a couple of hot chocolate packets. What a great gift!

Old Fashioned Sugar Cookies
2 c sugar 7 c flour
1 c shortening ½ tsp salt
2 eggs 1 tsp soda
1 tsp vanilla ½ c evaporated milk (plain milk works but canned makes the flavor so yummy!)

Cream the sugar and shortening. Add eggs, vanilla, salt, and soda. Mix well. Add flour and milk alternately. I always end up mixing with my hands. It works so much better! The dough must be just stiff enough to roll out and handle nicely. Flour your table before you roll it out. It also helps to dip your cutter into the flour before cutting the dough. Bake at 375 degrees for about 8-10 minutes. The longer baked, the crisper, the shorter baked, softer.

Merry Christmas and

happy gift making. : )

By the way, if you love candy, frosting and graham crackers why not tackle a village of small gingerbread houses. It is a fabulous family activity? It’s fun and the way I help kids do it, it’s as easy as pie!! Sounds too hard? Try making a passel of old fashioned gingerbread men. They are delicious and simple.