Tuesday, December 19, 2017

Christmas Always & Christmas Treasures (excerpt)

Christmas “Presents”!
 
 
                               Bells jingle
                               Snowflakes tingle
Star bright
Silent night
                                                                                                       Rustic stable
                                                                                                       Communion table
                               Choir sing
                               Jesus king
Wise men
Praise Him
                                                                                                       Winter scape
                                                                                                       Redemption take
                               Season cold
                               Faith so bold
Children listen
Snow glisten
                                                                                                       Mary blessed
                                                                                                       Christmas guest
                               Trespass forgive
                               Passion live
Innocent kiss
Eternal bliss
                                                                                                       Family love
                                                                                                       Heaven above
                               Body bread
Savior fed
Blood wine
Redeemer find
                                                                                                            Trinity night
                                                                                                            Glorious sight
                                    Tree delight
                                    Crystal bright
Christmas “Presence”
Life’s quintessence
                                                                                                            Latin mass
                                                                                                            Merry Christ-mas!
 
Amen!

 
Plus:
 
 
Christmas Love
 
Matthew says that Jesus fed five thousand with five loaves of bread and two fishes after blessing the food; He walked on the water; Jesus healed the sick. (Matthew 14)
To: Our precious Zachariah Tyler-(Handsome Z. Tyler---My Hero);
       Our treasured Lauren Victoria-(Little Professor---L.V. “Luvy);
       Our delightful Alexandria Elizabeth-(Curly locks---Lexli Lu);
       Our enchanting Anna Marie-(Blondie Annie Rie---Our “pistol”):
You all are priceless in our heart. The proclamation of the Bible is: Fear not! Follow Me!
Our prayer is that your gonfalon, crusade banner, simply be: Faith! Family! Freedom!
Live faith! All goodness is God; in God all things are possible. Dream without limit, live that reality through the Father’s authority, Jesus’ blessings, the Holy Spirit Grace. Fear not to dream, only fear to dream too small. Pursue pure values in God and---Persevere! You can do anything you decide and you do not ever have to do anything you choose not to do. Decisions made on Christian values are based in virtue and will always ring true. You are “in” the world by virtue of birth; you might become “of” the world by choice. Constant running in pursuit of happiness does not make a full life; it brings emptiness. Materialism is the fulfillment of vacant hope; it bears no lasting value. You are virtuous: kind, considerate, loving, generous. In a word: Holy! Faith be your credo; wear it proudly!
The importance of family is self-evident. You have a mother and father who love you dearly, a sibling who adores you, a grandmother who loves you as her own children and me, who wants to be just like each of you when (if) I ever grow up. Your aunt and uncle and cousins love you dearly. Our extended family and all your friends see the goodness within you. Everybody loves you. Your future is assured; your soul mate awaits; we know you search for someone like yourself; God will send each, in time. You all have looks, superior intelligence, the world by the tail. Go out there and take your rightful reward; you deserve it and God wills it. Bless you!
Freedom is as necessary to this recipe for happiness as is the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit to the Trinity of the Deity. Free will is the icing on the cake of life and that dessert is: Oh! So sweet! If the important decisions are grounded in faith. You are always free to choose. Do so wisely and the outcome will invariably praise, honor and glorify God. In my life, everything is simple; do what is right and it all works out. God will provide.
Finally, love is the ingredient that makes all of this possible. Ever wonder whether you love someone? If everything you do is for the benefit of that person, everything, without question, then you understand true love. Love is pure in its intent. It is given, bestowed. It requires no reply, no response, no reciprocation, no acceptance. I love people who do not even know that I exist. Love is mine to give so long as it is given without condition. God loves you like that. Conditional love is deceitful narcissism, a poorly designed lie for the grandeur of the perpetrator with no benefit to the recipient. Love is pure! Always!
“Christmas Love!” to you all, each and every day of the year! Amen!
 
Love, Bapa & Nanny-2010
 
 
Plus:
 
 
Seek---Truth!
 
Oh! Perfect single yellow rose in alabaster vase
 
Glimpsed there idyllic peace within eternal dream
Blue-green tempest white crest waves sing life theme
 
Safe harbor from all evil in quite soft His Love embrace
 
Surf modulated soothing lull on beach fine white powder sand
Cadence rhythmic ebb and flow as only His sight planned
 
Strong hand caressing gentle upon stained-shadowed face
 
Sun comfort warm in Easter dye pale blue of heaven above
Sail ocean clouds like wings on pure white holy Dove
 
In Glory should I fortune find His subtle trace
 
Upon sand dune in palm shade panoramic vista view
Absorb reflection focus memories which once I knew
 
Remember Faith returns His love in special case
 
Nature solitude in perfect frame created scene
Why I be privy honored to enjoy sublime serene
 
Quiet slumber reverie through Father, Son and Spirit Grace
 
Each breath and time between is prayer I humbly offer true
Rejoice sweet reverence as others merely suffer through
 
His guiding light sits yonder perch on headland place
 
Glow slowly seek day’s destiny to far west sky
Shine sweetly Spirit life in Hope as creatures try
 
Emulate that Joseph, Mary, Holy Infant Family base
 
 
 
Twilight quickly tags spectacular orange sunset prize
Afore full dark, bright moon in east does rise
 
God’s heaven touched in cherished Freedom pace
 
Myriad blue-white diamond-studded sparkle black velvet abyss
Rest for appointed glorious morning sun, His promised bliss
 
Savor beauty life, allow not to become a destination race
In all God’s gain, the pleasure truly is the chase!
 
Amen!
 
Merry Christmas!



Plus:
 
 
 
4   Ole Sam
 
 
     Nanny pulled a kitchen table chair near the stove for her husband to sit at; he did so, appreciative of the considerate gesture and also of the warm comfort. Lexi and Anna quickly claimed a knee and Lauren stood between them. He undid his hood-tie knowing it might be a while before he could escape. A wide smile split his face; he loved every minute of the attention.
     “Tell us about Ole Sam, Bapa,” Lauren began.
     “Yeah,” chimed Annie Rie. “Tell us an Ole Sam story.”
     “Come on, Bapa,” coaxed Lexli Lu. “Tell us the story about Ole Sam.”
     “You girls already know about Ole Sam,” Bapa offered, shaking his head. “You all have met him several times on our summer outings to Silver Creek. You remember?”
     “Not me, Bapa,” came Anna’s objection. “I’m too young to remember.” She purposely fluttered her long blonde eyelashes in an unsuccessful effort to feign innocence.
     Lexi caught on immediately; they would not allow Bapa to escape a fine story so easily.
     “Oh! I’m too young, too,” she cooed in obvious duplicitous chicanery.
     Bapa laughed at their theatrics; Nanny beamed at the manner in which these three dear little “ragamuffins” wrapped their doting grandfather around their little fingers. She loved it.
     Bapa gave his wife a sidelong glance and rolled his eyes, reading her playful mind.
     “And, my dear wife, I just wonder where they learned these female wiles?”
     Nanny exaggerated a shrug of her shoulders as if to say, “Who? Me?”
     “What about you, Miss Lauren? My ‘Little Professor’? Surely you remember?”
     Lauren’s eyes were downcast as she weighed her reply. He had never known her to tell an outright lie---about anything. Ever! The wheels were turning; he patiently waited.
     “Well! Okay. Yeah. I do kind of remember Ole Sam, the Leprechaun Man.”
     “Then,” Bapa teased, “maybe you should tell the story.” He and Nanny laughed.
     “Oh! Bapa!” Lauren said. “Anna and Lexi are too little to recall much about him. We didn’t see him last summer because we missed our annual trip. Remember?”
     She paused; Bapa nodded.
     “Anyway,” his eldest granddaughter continued, “you tell the very best stories.”
     “Yeah!” Came the bobsy twins in practiced unison.
     “Okay,” Bapa relented. “We did miss our picnic last summer. And,” he added, teasing Anna Marie and Miss Lexi, “these two are awfully young.”
     They all laughed; Lexi and Anna gave each other looks of dubious consternation.
     “Ole Sam showed up here about thirty years ago. He was first seen in town shortly after the ten-thirty morning train went through; probably came on a boxcar from the north or east, somewhere. Maybe Chicago? St. Louis? Kansas City? I never asked and he never said.
     “He had an old black and white sheep dog, Mike, a mix of shepherd and, maybe, setter. Sam wore blue wool pants, well-worn in the seat and the knees, held up on his skinny frame by a rope chord, pulled tight at his waist. He had on a faded long sleeved blue shirt, a ragged checkered sport coat and a derby hat covering shaggy, matted, long red-brown hair. Looked like he hadn’t shaved or seen a bath in a long time. Might say the man was a bit rough around the edges.”
     Three pair of wide eyes stared unblinkingly at Bapa.
     “Sheriff  Daniels called me about a day after Sam showed. He said that the widow Abernathy reported a fresh baked apple pie had disappeared from her window sill where she had set it to cool. The law found the empty pie pan licked clean, alongside this little leprechaun of a man in the city park under the bandstand. He was fast asleep. Two empty Coke bottles lay by the glass pie dish; Ole Sam had apparently visited the grocery store, too.”
     Bapa smiled, giving a scandalous glance toward his wife. When she returned his gaze, he said, conspiratorially, “You, my dear, are familiar with that infamous bandstand? Remember?”
     Nanny’s cheeks blushed an ever so slight pinkish hue at his unprovoked teasing, and in front of the children, too! It was behind that very wooden structure in the city park on a warm summer night under a yellow-orange full moon that she had received her first ever romantic kiss. The pleasant memory caused her to smile; she gave a dismissive wave toward him, shaking her head.
     “It is a very nice monument,” she said, gesturing to the three grandchildren surrounding him, “testament to a lot of wonderful things in this blessed life of ours.”
     He laughed and said, simply, “Amen! To that. Dear wife of mine.”
     The girls sensed that they had missed some private joke; Lauren quickly got the story of the Leprechaun man back on track, ignoring Nanny’s obvious seeming consternation.
     “You mean he stole that pie and those sodas?” She inquired, incredulous.
     “Whoa! Now. Little Lady. All the evidence pointed that way, but, fact is, nobody saw him steal anything. Couldn’t even prove he was the one who has consumed the spoils.”
     “Spoils?” inquired Lexi, scrunching up her pretty face in obvious confusion.
     “You mean the food was bad, Bapa?” asked Anna. “Couldn’t the widow Abernathy cook?”
     Bapa laughed. “Oh! She could cook well enough.” He continued, explaining. “‘Spoils’ just means his loot, his prize. What he got for his trouble.”
     “I hope he got thrown in jail for stealing,” Lauren said, nodding her head in judgment.
     “No! ‘Spoils’ means the pie and the sodas he---uh…liberated,” Bapa explained.
     The girls gave one another confused looks; Nanny came to the rescue.
     “Bapa just means Ole Sam took the pie and Coke and ate and drank it and then fell asleep.”
     “Oh!”  Sounded an acceptance of dubious understanding from the attentive trio.
     “Then,” Lauren persisted, “why did the sheriff call you, Bapa?”
     Before the old man could reply, Nanny interrupted. “It seems, dear children, that the whole town is aware that a certain tough old Papa bear has a kind heart and cannot stand to see anyone in trouble.” She gave Bapa a stern, yet forgiving, stare; it was one of the reasons she loved him.
     She continued. “And, Sheriff  Daniels knew full well what had happened and that the vagrant didn’t have a penny of money to his name. So, he called Bapa, knowing that he would take in the stranger, help him get situated and put him on the right path.”
     Bapa continued the narrative. “Daniels brought him out here and asked me to look after him. We talked a little and I liked his manner and invited him to stay for supper. He said he’d be obliged but would accept only if I let him do some chores to pay his way.
     “I gave him a bar of homemade lye soap and pointed him toward the creek. While he cleaned up, Nanny got out some of my old clothes from way back when I was a lot younger and some thinner. I took them to the creek and gave them to Ole Sam. I brought him an old razor, too. He looked downright handsome when he came to the back porch for dinner. He shucked the old clothes; everything except that dusty old derby hat. He wore it like his own personal prized trademark. Still hangs in his cabin and he wears it when he’s home.
     “Kept rubbing his old boots on the back of his pants legs, trying to get some of the dust off. He couldn’t do much about the deep scuffs and the gash of a hole on the left toe. Nanny gave him a pair of my old work shoes; they were a little big, but he didn’t complain none. He ate hearty and had two helpings of dessert. He slept on the hay bales in the barn loft.
     “Next morning, I went out to call him for breakfast. He met me half way across the back yard with the egg basket full to the top. He had already fed all the animals, too.”
     Bapa got a far-off, pleasant look in his eyes, as though he were reliving the event.
     Finally, he continued. “Sam stayed with us for a couple of weeks. Worked real hard and knew how to do everything. We patched the barn roof after a storm and he walked around up there like he was on flat ground. Said he had served a stint in Her Majesty’s Royal Navy and had gotten used to heights and unsteady footing, climbing masts and swinging around on yardarms.
     “He left one morning after eating and went up the mountain; he was gone three days.”
     Nanny brought Bapa a cup of tea; he took several sips and removed his parka, gathering his thoughts before continuing the story; the tree girls waited patiently.
     “When he came back, the old sheep dog, Mike, wasn’t with him. After a while he said the mutt had died up there on the mountain and Sam had buried him. He allowed how he had found just the perfect place for a cabin and had already laid out the corner stones. Asked if he could borrow an ax so he could fell some trees and build himself a lodging.
     “I told him I owed him some money and pushed some bills toward him, but he shook his head and politely refused. Said that Nanny and I had treated him real well and that we didn’t owe him anything. He allowed that our kindness had been payment enough and that he was grateful.”
     After another sip of tea, Bapa added, “Ole Sam has some pride. A man’s kind of pride.
     “I gave him an ax and some tools and loaned him Rufe, my old mule, to carry his supplies up the mountain. He left at daybreak the next day. Before he broke trail, he looked down at the ground, somewhat embarrassed, when he asked if I still held some of that cash I had offered him. When I told him it was still his money, he said to give ten dollars to the widow Abernathy for the pie and to say that he was powerful sorry that he had acted so rashly. He added to tell her that it had been the best pie he had ever eaten. Said to give five dollars to the storekeeper and apologize to him, also. Then, he said to tell the law that he was sorry for any trouble he might have caused and that he had paid his debt.” Bapa paused, smiling. “He has some pride---and…class!”
     Then, “I told him I knew the spot he described for his homestead and that I’d be up to visit after the fall harvest and that I’d gather the mule then and bring him some winter supplies.”
     The girls waited while Bapa finished his cup.
     “And that’s how the Christmas trip got started?” Lauren wanted to know.
     “Was that it, Bapa?” Anna Marie persisted.
     “Yeah, Bapa. Was that the beginning of the yearly trek?” Lexi inquired, proud of her use of the new word.
     Bapa laughed. “Christmas trip? Yearly trek?” He paused. Then, “Wow! Nanny. These girls are pretty advanced in word usage for their age. That’s quite a vocabulary.”
     “Aw, Bapa,” came Lexli Lu, “we go to school, you know.”
     Bapa and Nanny laughed; Lauren and Annie joined in; Lexi giggled at her own joke.
     “Yes,” Bapa said, “and you all sure do learn well, too.” He tickled Lexi.
     Lauren could have corrected her grandfather’s improper usage of the adverb as she had learned the difference between “good” and “well” when used in a sentence. The rule was that “well” referred to one’s health and “good” to one’s ability. She gave Nanny a knowing glance which was returned with a smile. The child was very intelligent; yet, she practiced a saintly portion of respect for one so young. There was more to keen knowledge than any conceited display of erudite intelligence; patience for the Golden Rule tempered raw learning to allow it to be honed into cutting edge politeness. These children possessed sterling characteristics and qualities pointing to greatness; the ingredient necessary to make such lucky people adorable, sorely lacking in some, was, simply, an innate humble nature.
     “So,” Bapa concluded, “that’s the story of our Ole Sam. He lives up there on the mountain with his two dogs. He hunts and fishes and does some trapping, tends a garden, keeps chickens and ducks and a couple of porkers. He cuts and splits firewood for the city folk. In the summer he comes down and helps with baling hay and other farm chores. It’s a good life for someone with a temperament like his.”
     Nanny detected a hint of forlorn envy in her husband as he finished his narrative.
     “Not so good as your life?” she intoned, smiling. “You sounded, almost…wistful.”
     He stood and hugged her tightly, kissing her soft cheek.
     “There isn’t anybody I would ever trade my life with.” He looked into her eyes.
     “Yes. I know,” she acknowledged, smiling, kissing his cheek.



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