Faith, Folklore, and Friends

For the past few years, some of us have named the new year coming. 2011 has been the year of laughter. There are many studies that conclude that laughing is good for you physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I have proven them right! Actually, finding things to laugh about is quite easy around here. And if all else fails, there is always Everybody Loves Raymond reruns. I plan to continue this practice of laughing every day just because I like it. Naming 2012 has been a little difficult because there are so many options. Some of my friends have chosen 'joy', 'yes', 'learning', 'travel', to name a few. For me, it will be the year of 'changes'. One major change is coming in February, when Hub will retire after working 42 years at the same place. He is so ready and looking forward to it! There are other potential changes that I can't talk about yet, but just the possibility has created some excitement for us. The verb change means

On January 30, my Christmas 'tree' is lovely, still bearing its ornaments and lights, still radiating with fiber optics. It hasn't shed one needle. It probably never will, because the people who made it used fine machines and glue and paint to construct it, giving it the general shape of a tree. The closest it ever came to a tree was when it was in a box in the back of the truck, coming home from Sam's, when we were driving through Forest Hills. It does not make my house smell like Christmas. It used to be different. As soon as our school dismissed for Christmas break, my lil' ole sister and I went to the woods in search of a Christmas tree. We ambled in woods not our own because we wanted to find something we hadn't seen before. A few times, it is possible we wandered onto government land, but it has been over forty years and we don't fear prosecution at this point. Cedars were the best; they had much thicker foliage than the scraggly lobl

It has been said that when somebody gets married, they are marrying a whole new family. I don't know how accurate that is, but in my case, I got a new brother and two new sisters. The brother was still a teenager, and the sisters, both skinny with long, dark hair, became my new best friends. We are still hanging out together, these forty-two years later. The oldest rambled some, living in the frozen north and the very Hotlanta for a while. The youngest stayed here, briefly living in Muscle Shoals (which is just across the river), but has never left Alabama. For years, we lived within a ten-mile radius, but somehow managed to never see each other. We talked on the phone regularly, but we might go months without actually being in the same room. December, 2008. The three of us managed to get together for lunch at Legends Steakhouse. On that cold Wednesday, we made a goal to meet for lunch every month the next year. It was a goal we set together, but none of us really believed it would

Well, the weather outside is frightful. Cold rain and dreary clouds always make me want to start new projects. Any guesses? Have you ever wondered what would happen if you tried to get the last drop of boiling water out of the kettle to make tea? In my case, the lid fell off and steam attacked my pinkie. Ouch! I'm amazed that the skin on my little finger would stretch that much. It doesn't hurt, but of course, I can't wash the dishes!

It is still Christmas at our house! Horses still decked out. . . A cut-glass ornament that hangs in the entrance. . . . Christmas quilts still on the wall. . . There is some mistletoe under there. . . . Granddaughters can't ride him anymore, but he still comes out at Christmas. . . Loving those hand made ornaments. . . . Musical churches with open doors. . . . . . our 'power off' lantern lighting the wreath. . . and a frig full of leftovers! No way am I ready to end all of this!

Loving Father, Help us remember the birth of Jesus, that we may share in the song of the angels, the gladness of the shepherds and worship of the wise men. Close the door of hate and open the door of love all over the world. Let kindness come with every gift and good desires with every greeting.. Deliver us from evil by the blessing which Christ brings, And teach us to be merry with clear hearts. May Christmas morning make us happy to be thy children, and Christmas evening bring us to our beds with grateful thoughts, forgiving and forgiven, for Jesus’ sake. Amen. ~Robert Louis Stevenson

Did Mary know? Did she wonder? Surely her back was aching as she rode the donkey; maybe caused by travel weariness, maybe the first contractions, faint at the beginning. For months she had known she was the chosen one. She had felt and watched the baby grow inside her. Surely her young skin was riddled with stretch marks, her feet swollen. As she continued mile after mile, Joseph by her side, leading, did she wonder if there would be a resting place for them tonight, if there would be a place of welcome, a warm place? Did she know that this was the last day, the last day the Savior, our blessed Jesus, would reside in her womb? Did she know that by tomorrow, she would be different, the world would be different, all time and eternity would be different because of the baby she carried? Could her heart and mind comprehend anything so glorious? For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

Is there anyone who hasn't stood in the dark, looking up to the expanse above, and wondered? How I wonder what you are.... The Christmas season reminds us of the star of Bethlehem. The bright, incomparable star that was a map for Magi. The star that led the way for traveling wise men in search of a king. Wise men who had studied the heavens, astronomers, who had seen changes and knew something extraordinary was happening. Intelligent men who plotted the paths of stars when my Anglo ancestors were still nomadic because they had not learned how to store food. Men looking for answers. There has been rampant speculation for hundreds of years about the source of the star. Some believe an alignment of planets. Others think it was a comet or supernova. Why is it so hard for some to believe that the star was created specifically for the glorious birth of the Savior? Could the King of glory become human and live among us without 'stirring up' all creation? And God said, "Let th

We never forget where we came from. There is within every living thing an instinct to go home, the place where they began, the place where they belong. We hear stories of lost dogs returning home, worse for wear, after traveling for miles and miles, across rivers and busy interstates, after weeks of being lost. Banding hummingbirds has proven that some return to the same feeders in the spring, after they have wintered in South America, hundreds of miles from the plastic red feeder that feels like home to them. Each year, the swallows return to Capistrano. Pacific salmon return to the stream where their life began. The circle of life sometimes ends where it began, and somehow, we find comfort in that. br /> Some terminal patients, knowing that their days on this earth are few, beg to leave their hospital beds and go home, to their place, to spend their final hours. Wounded soldiers on blood-drenched battlefields write of their desire to just make it home, to be surrounded b

It is an ancient profession, this job of being a shepherd. Someone has to tend the sheep. Someone has to keep the flock together; to chase away the predators. They have to keep the little lambs from wandering off and getting lost. They have to keep moving sheep to different pastures, searching for fresh grass. In the days when believers read Isaiah and waited for the promise, there were many shepherds. The job sometimes fell to single men who had no family responsibilities, who could stay with the sheep day and night. They moved about with the sheep, living in tents or wagons. Being a shepherd was a cold, lonely job with little to eat and none of the comforts of home. Throughout time, God has used shepherds for his purpose. Before he became the Father of Nations, Abraham tended sheep. Jacob and Isaac were shepherds. Moses spent his time in exile tending sheep. David, who had God's heart, was with his flock when he was called to service. Then the day came. The

Some of you have asked for these recipes. I'm glad you enjoyed them. Banana Pudding was a delicious dessert my Mama made, but she had to stir the pudding and beat the meringue for the longest time. This one is much easier. Creamy Banana Pudding 1 (14 ounce) can condensed milk (not evaporated milk!) 1 1/2 cup cold water 1 (4 serving size) package instant vanilla pudding mix 2 cups whipped cream 1 (12 ounce) box vanilla wafers 3 or 4 bananas Combine sweetened condensed milk, water, and pudding mix; mix well. Chill 5 minutes. Fold in whipped cream. Put a layer of vanilla wafers on the bottom of your bowl. Top with a third of the bananas and pudding mix. Repeat vanilla wafers, bananas, and pudding mix layer twice, ending with pudding mix. Garnish with crushed vanilla wafers. Keep refrigerated. Make this several hours or even the day before your guests arrive. I make this in a trifle bowl and put extra vanilla wafers around the sides just to make it pretty. This dessert will make your g

Two little boys, both abandoned shortly after birth, grew up together in the state orphanage. When they were old enough to understand such matters, they were allowed to select a date to celebrate their birthday, because no one knew when the actual date was. The boys, who were as close as biological brothers, picked the same date to celebrate. It was a day when they were special and the focus was on them. Every year, as we are privileged and honored to celebrate the birth of Jesus at Christmas, skeptics say it wasn't really His birthday. Perhaps it wasn't, but that is entirely irrelevant. It is a day set aside to focus, to remember, to share in honor of the greatest gift ever given. I love Christmas. Everything I do during the season, whether it is cooking or wrapping or decorating or visiting, I do because of the gift of that baby, my Savior, who made a feeding trough into a King's throne and changed the world forever. Matthew 25:40 constantly reminds me that whatever you d

The little Baptist congregation in the place I grew up had a loud, out-of-tune upright piano and someone to play it most of the time. Some congregations were not so blessed, and sang their hymns a cappella, whether it was a part of their doctrine or not. Hymnals were printed with shaped notes to indicate the different voice parts. The most popular hymnal was titled Sacred Harp , and thus it became known as sacred harp singing (sacred harp referred to the human voice as a musical instrument). Some summers, there would be a singing school at the church where children were taught the parts and how to make hand movements to accompany the music. Sadly, I never attended any of the singing schools, and the first fa so la I learned was in high school chorus. This was in the sixties when The Sound of Music was a popular movie, and one of the songs our choral director selected was Do-Re-Mi . I still haven't learned to move my hands correctly to the music. Sacred harp music is alive and wel

Did y'all miss me? I'm always very busy at the end of the semester, and we spent several days in the Smokies last week. The Sugarlands Visitor Center at the entrance to the Smoky Mountain National Park at Gatlinburg had their Festival of Christmas Past last Saturday. Hub and I spent the day with them. There was so much to do, and all of it was good. There was a whole building with staff and volunteers teaching how to make traditional Christmas ornaments. Here, I'm learning to make an angel from rags. This table was full of natural greenery to make wreaths from. There was holly, pine cones, cedar, sumac seed heads, nandina seeds and foliage, ivy, and much, much more. I tied mine together with ivy vines, so everything on my wreath was natural. I plan to go on a scavenger hunt next week to make some fresh ones for Christmas day. This fellow liked his so much, he decided to wear it for all of us to see! Isn't this beautiful? I had never thought of using ivy in my Christ

Y'all know I love recycling. I learned to do it when it was a necessity, not a popular 'green' thing to do. So I'm at my favorite store, the Loaves and Fishes thrift shop, when I see a buggy full of assorted Christmas balls someone had donated. I loved them instantly. I bought four bags full for a grand total of six dollars. A friend had told me about a Christmas wreath made from these balls, so I went to Pintrest.com and learned how to do them. I had all those pretty balls and hot glue. I did not have the energy to go to Hobby Lobby or JoAnn's to get the Styrofoam wreath to glue them to. Hub goes to the garage and cuts a 12" square of shipping Styrofoam, then cut the inside out to make a square wreath form. After spreading newspaper over the card table, I began to glue the largest balls to the outside and inside of the wreath. Then, I glued some on the top. I used smaller balls to fill in so you couldn't see the Styrofoam. This was so fun that I forgot to