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IF THEY COULD TALK
by James "PoppyK" Kisner
If only Christmas trees could talk, what stories we would hear.
The artificial ones I mean, we use from year to year.
The ones that we have kept so long that we bought years ago.
I have a little tree like that and I can''t let it go.
I bought it when my kids were young, I really got a deal.
I got it when the artificial trees were looking real.
We always got a real live tree before these trees came out,
But when I saw this Christmas tree I knew there was no doubt.
My kids are grown and married now and are not here with me,
And each and every year I say, "that''s it for this old tree,"
But I just cannot throw it out and start with something new,
I think of all the history that the little tree''s been through.
I sit and watch that little tree when I am all alone,
And think of all the happy times when all my kids were home.
The many years and all the presents under that old tree,
And if that little tree could talk what stories there would be.
The stories of so many Christmas mornings before light,
After all the kids had finally gone to sleep that night.
The family gathered all around before they even dressed,
And if that little tree could talk, which story would be best?
That little tree was so involved at Christmas through the years,
The years that were so joyous and also the ones with tears.
That little tree was decorated when my grandma died,
And it was there that Christmas when we got the news and cried.
My mother gazed upon that tree before she passed away,
And as I watch the little tree I think of her today.
So many things I think about when she was here with me,
So many stories of her could be told by that old tree.
Many times she sat there while the kids opened their toys,
Being so excited with them sharing in their joys.
Never would she miss a chance to see them Christmas morn,
And started spoiling all of them the minute they were born.
My wife and mother of my children trimmed that little tree,
And she made sure the lights and trim were perfect as could be.
She was taken from us at an early age in life,
But, oh the stories that the tree could tell about my wife.
These are just the memories the tree and I both share,
The first ones that just come to mind when it is sitting there.
They were mostly happy times as was the life we led,
The little tree and I don''t dwell we always forge ahead.
So now we make more Christmas memories each and every year,
And as the grandkids come around the little tree is here.
Every Christmas it gets older, but then so do I.
I guess that I will keep the little tree until I die.
We''ve been together for so long and share such history,
I guess there''s nothing that I have that means so much to me.
Then every year I think of pitching it, but then I balk,
And every year I think I wish this little tree could talk.
We have a lot of memories and there''s many more to come,
We have to look at where we''re going not where we came from.
Many people have a tree as this poem speaks about,
And after Christmas just like me, you just can''t throw it out.
-- James "PoppyK" Kisner <PoppyK1 @ aol.com>
Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

BOO BOO''S CHRISTMAS
by Bob Shaw
Growing up on a small farm in the 40''s and 50''s was pretty rough.
We were poor, but didn''t know it because everyone else was in just
about the same position. We had an old four room house with cracks in the
walls. Some mornings, I''d wake up with snow that had blown in on the bed.
The old coal stove in the kitchen was pretty warm as long as you
stayed within a few feet of it. One of my chores was to take out the
klinkers and fill the driveway to keep it from sinking. I can remember
getting up in the morning and using the dipper to break through the ice in
the water bucket to wash my face, then go to the old wooden ice box for a
glass of fresh milk right from the cow! (Doesn''t taste like that today.
Progress, I guess.)
Dad came home from work one day with a special surprise -- a baby squirrel.
He''d found it on the ground close to the old pick up truck, and
figured it had fallen out of its nest. When he told me it had fallen, I
named him Boo Boo.
Dad always said he must have landed on his head because he was the
craziest varmint he''d ever seen. We nursed him with an old baby bottle,
and it wasn''t long before he was growing like a weed. Later, Boo Boo would
sit on my lap at the dinner table and let me feed him while I pretended to
eat. And Mom pretended not to see.
Just a few days before Christmas, we were playing hide and seek. When
Boo Boo ran under the bed, I followed him and came out with an amazing
discovery -- a brand new ball bat, glove and baseball!
I dragged my new treasures into the kitchen and exclaimed, "Look what
I found!" While Dad patiently explained that Santa was running behind, and
left those things a few days early, I started bawling and said I wanted my
presents NOW.
Christmas morning finally came around, and I unwrapped my new present
-- a lump of coal. But that was OK. Grandma got me a toy truck to haul it
in.
There''s several furry friends waiting for me at a place called The
Rainbow Bridge. I hope one of them is a little gray squirrel, named Boo
Boo.
-- Bob Shaw <CapeRabbit @ semo.net>
Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

NO BOOTS FOR CHRISTMAS
by James "PoppyK" Kisner
No longer does he sit and paw my leg on Sunday morning,
When I am writing and he sneaks in my room without warning.
No longer does he beg me to get up and let him out,
No longer does he sit and look at me as if to pout.
He doesn''t sit and wait for me to pull into the drive,
And I had never understood how he knew when it was five.
He no more jumps into my bed and snuggles next to me,
And no more does he lick my fingers, biting tenderly.
No more does he jump upon me when I''m in my chair,
Curling up around my knees as I''m reclining there.
No more does he put his head under my finger tips,
And no more does he chew on them with tender little nips.
He will never sit and beg to see what''s on my plate,
And he will never wake me up again so I''m not late.
I will never feel his nose again against my face,
While I''m sleeping, on my pillow, in his favorite place.
So as I sit and me***ate at Christmas time this Eve,
I won''t have to let him out so he can take his leave.
I won''t have to watch the door to see if he is back,
I won''t have to wipe his feet before he leaves a track.
Strange how you can get attached to animals like that,
But Boots my cat for all these years will not be coming back.
He died last month from injuries he got from who knows where,
I found him in the bushes barely clinging to life there.
So there''s no Boots this Christmas to paw lights upon the tree,
There''s no Boots this Christmas he is just a memory.
No chasing balls of Christmas paper all around the room,
No teasing him to run and hide behind the kitchen broom.
I always said that darned old cat was nothing but a pain,
But I would love to have that nuisance back here once again.
Even though he was a pain and irritated me,
I''d love to see his four white paws swiping at the tree.
But time moves on and so do we and nothing we can do,
Can ever change the way things are there''s always something new.
So that''s what''s new this Christmas I have lost my "Boots" the cat,
I wish you Merry Christmas "Boots" wherever you are at.
-- James "PoppyK" Kisner <PoppyK1 @ aol.com>
Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

THE FUNNY THINGS KIDS SAY
Kathie, the mother of three, overheard her sons talking. Her
6-year-old said he was going to ask Santa for a case of Beyblades (a new
kind of toy). His 8-year-old brother asked, "Will you share them with me?"
The 6-year-old said, "No, ask for your own." The 8-year-old replied,
"I''ve been so bad this year I''ll be lucky if I get anything." The
6-year-old came back with, "Well, you have been bad every year and you
always got stuff!" -- Kathie Rosset of Chilliwack B.C. Canada
Each year Charlie sets up a nativity scene on a table inside their
house and as a symbolic gesture they do not add baby Jesus until Christmas
day. One day Calista, 4, was sitting midway up the stairs looking down at
the nativity scene.
"Daddy?" she said. "Jesus isn''t born yet?"
"That''s right. He won''t be here until Christmas day."
"And then he''ll be born?"
"That''s right, Honey."
After a pause she said, "He''s already born at the Lapio''s!" (Their
neighbors two houses down have a nativity scene, with baby Jesus, in their
front yard.)
Charlie says, "Keeping up with the neighbors just hit a new level!"
-- Charlie Ramsdale of Flower Mound, Texas
Barbie, 2, woke up from her nap to see large balls of snow coming
down outside -- a rare sight in Clackamas, Oregon. Barbie blinked her eyes
a few times and said, "Look, Daddy, POPCORN!" -- Barbara Gocus
(grandmother of Barbie) of Clackamas, Oregon
Sarah, 10, still believed in Santa Claus. However, her brother Tim,
8, had decided that Santa couldn''t possibly be real. Sarah decided she
would visit Santa and tell him both her and Tim''s list for Christmas.
However, the Santa must have thought Sarah was too old to believe, because
he told her if she believed in her heart "then Santa was real" and he
didn''t ask her for her wish list. When Sarah relayed this information to
Tim his reply was, "Wow, Sarah. You had the real Santa. He already knew
what we wanted!" Tim believed for years after that! -- Debbie (mother of
Sarah) of Liberty, Missouri
Dear readers... I have been doing the Kidwarmers/Funny Kids column
for 16 years now. Here are some of my favorite Christmas stories from
years past (gleaned from the true stories published in our Funny Kids
books). I hope you enjoy these holiday stories as much as I do!
At a Christmas Eve program a 5-year-old whispered, "Grandma, why
doesn''t that baby Jesus ever get any older? I''ve been to five of these
programs!"
A few weeks before Christmas Lindsay came home from first grade and
told her mother, "I believe in Santa Claus. And I believe in the elves.
But those flying deer. I don''t buy those flying deer!"
Elizabeth, 3, was helping her mother Melinda wrap a present for her
father. While wrapping, Melinda told Elizabeth about keeping the present a
secret so it would be a surprise. After the present was wrapped, Elizabeth
proudly put it under the tree. When her father asked her if he could shake
it and guess what''s inside, she said, "No, T-shirts don''t rattle!"
Niccole, 4, was afraid of Santa. When she saw him greeting children
in a department store, she said to him, "I''m NOT sitting on your lap! If
you give me your phone number, I''ll call you when I have time!"
On a car trip Catherine, 6, was singing "The Twelve Days of
Christmas" with the family. But when it came to "and a partridge in a pear
tree" she was belting out "and a portrait of a palm tree!"
Luke, 4, wanted a Christmas chore. His parents told him he could
water the Christmas tree every day. The next morning when they woke up
they saw Luke using a sprinkling can from the garden to water the tree --
presents and all!
The fourth graders were told to write about their Christmas memories.
This is what Dorothy Lee wrote: "My family woke up on Christmas Day. We
opened our presents from Santa. Jeff was happy because he got Barney
slippers. Chuck and Jeff both got puzzles. Lucy and I got hair stuff and
more. Dad got a whole lot of candy and stuff. Mom got nothing as usual!"
A few weeks before Christmas a 3-year-old was watching his mother undress.
"Can Santa see me now?" he asked his mother.
"Yes," she said.
"Can he see you now?" he asked.
"Yes," she said.
"Well, I know what he''d say if he could see you now," the 3-year-old
said. "Woooooooooo-EEEEEEEE! Look at them buns!"
Rebecca, 5, said she thought the Christmas tree must be a girl
because it has a skirt.
Adam, 4, sang "Frosty the Snowman" this way: "...with a torn tob pipe
and a runny nose..."
When Bee took the children to see Santa, little Luke said, "Bee, that
wasn''t the real Santa. It was just one of the elves, because he said ''Hey,
Dude,'' and the real Santa wouldn''t say ''Hey, Dude!''"
Told that her church was going to have a float in the Christmas
parade, Carrie, 4, asked, "Where will the water be?"
More Christmas stories next week... please send your favorite true
Christmas stories.
Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

THE CHRISTMAS CARD
by Lissa Lee
I love Christmas cards.
I love to send them and receive them. Many enclose family newsletters
and pictures. I always enjoy reading these summations. It keeps friends
close.
This year I received a very special card. It came from my friend
Jane. We haven''t seen each other in years. Our sons initiated our
friendship. It was deepened when I coached her daughter, Ellen, in
softball, many years ago.
Ellen was born with Downs Syndrome. Despite the handicap, Ellen never
saw herself as inadequate. Neither did her family. She was allowed to
participate in everything. Fortunately, the community embraced Ellen and
made opportunities for her wherever possible.
It was in the summer softball season and Ellen wanted to play.
I was last to pick my players on draft day. Not wanting Ellen to feel
excluded, I chose her immediately. She was ecstatic! No team ever had a
more enthusiastic player.
The season began.
It was hard to keep Ellen focused. She wandered to right field and
watched insects crawl across the dirt. Occasionally the ball would land
near her and her teammates would hustle to assist her. Ellen would rear
back, throw the ball, sometimes in the right direction.
Ellen was always happy. Win or lose, it made no difference to her.
She just enjoyed being outside with the girls.
Batting took a great deal of effort. No matter how hard we tried,
Ellen never fully comprehended the concept. But we kept trying. Every
time she came through the rotation, my girls would root for her. No one
ever complained or gave up on her.
By the end of the season, we were tied for first place.
Going into the final inning, we had last bat. If we scored just one
more point we would win! If we didn''t, the game would go into extra
innings, where anything could happen.
We didn''t want extra innings. We wanted to win. We had runners on
first and second with two outs. My power hitter, Dana, was up and Ellen
was on deck. The tension mounted.
Dana took the stance. The pitcher wound up.
The pitch was far to the outside.
"Ball," called the umpire.
Everyone exhaled.
Pitcher wound up, released.
"Ball two!" cried the ump.
Dana backed out of the box. Perspiration beaded her forehead. Fans
were static with anticipation. Ellen was merrily swinging the bat around
on deck waving at the crowd.
Dana stepped back up.
The pitcher threw the ball.
"Ball three!" announced the ump.
The pressure was incredible. I clung to wire mesh that lined our
dugout. No one made a sound. We waited.
One more pitch.
"Take your base!" yelled the ump.
Now the bases were loaded. This was it. Ellen was up to bat. She
sauntered up to the plate. She waved at the crowd as she always did. No
one knew what to expect.
Then my girls began to chant, "El-len, El-len, El-len!"
The fans took up the cheer.
Soon both dugouts and all the bleachers were chanting, "El-len,
El-len, El-len!"
The catcher crouched down behind Ellen. The umpire leaned in over the
catcher''s back. The pitcher eyed the batter. Ellen smiled with her bat
resting on her shoulder.
"Wack!"
Ellen had hit the ball!
For one nana-second, time froze. No one moved.
"Run! Ellen Run!" screamed every voice in the stadium.
Ellen ran. She took off with lightening speed. In the wrong direction!
As my girls raced for home plate, Ellen was dashing towards third.
Her teammates were running around her and yelling at her to go back the
other way.
The opposing team was so surprised by her hit, they momentarily lost
their bearings. By the time the catcher had realized what had happened and
tagged Ellen out, we already had two runners home! We had won the game!
Ellen was the hero!
Seconds latter I was doused in icy cold Gatorade and Ellen was riding
her father''s shoulders around the ball field. Even our opponents were
"high fiving" Ellen.
Exhausted we lined up for the presentation of the trophies. We were
to be champions, but Ellen''s bat was the real celebration. We were all so
proud of her.
It was the perfect ending to a challenging season.
Over the years, Ellen''s mother has kept me apprised of their family
through the annual Christmas newsletter. This year''s newsletter came in
the mail today. Anxious to hear about my favorite ballplayer, I hurriedly
ripped open the envelope.
Enclosed was the tra***ional newsletter, but when I opened it, a
picture fell out.
It was a picture of 21-year-old Ellen all dressed up in a suit, hat,
gloves and heels. She had been selected by her high school student body
for the Homecoming Court and crowned honorary queen.
The newsletter described how it had all come about and the Homecoming
events. Ellen had ridden in the parade on the senior maid''s float. She
had rounded the ball field in a red convertible. Her father had escorted
her across the field. And in her suit, gloves and heels, she was crowned
in centerfield as the band played.
Ellen smiled, waved and blew kisses.
Everyone applauded. Once again, the hero!
-- Lissa Lee <dustbunny @ charter.net>
Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

A BODACIOUS CHRISTMAS GIFT
by Donna Siefker
Emery is one of those people who really is a genius.
He is a gentle soul who would do absolutely anything for anyone and
everyone. However, he just has no common sense whatsoever and really is
not mechanically inclined.
Emery lives up by Lake Michigan, so they get alot of lake effect snow.
Two winters ago, if memory serves me right, they received quite a bit of
snow and he decided to help his daughter remove it from her sidewalks.
Now, I know what you''re thinking: What does this have to do with a
pet? Please, just follow me here and you will see what I''m talking about.
Emery''s daughter Shelly has a large Great Dane named Bodacious.
Bodacious had only one flaw. He hated to get his feet in the snow or even
in grass so he was constantly relieving himself on Shelly''s sidewalk. If
you know anything about Great Danes you can understand just how big these
piles can be -- about as big as horse droppings.
Emery proceeded to get his daughter''s snow blower out of the garage.
He managed to get the thing started and running -- that took him almost an
hour. Shelly was absolutely petrified that her dad was going to get hurt
with this snow blower knowing that he is kind of like Tim Allen. Every
time he tries to use a power tool he ends up in the emergency room. Well,
she had every right to be worried.
About half way down the driveway, the snow blower began to make a loud
noise and then continued to sound as if it was going to explode. Emery
thought the snow blower had sucked something up that was lodged in the
spinning blades. He shut the whole thing down.
However, he didn''t wait for it to completely stop and bent over the
shoot where the snow comes out.
Well it happened. The snow blower had sucked up one of those gifts
that Bodacious had left the night before that had become frozen.
Shelly told me that gift came flying out of that snow blower just as
her dad was leaning over it. Needless to say it knocked Emery out.
When he came to in the hospital emergency room, he had two black eyes
and a small gash on the bridge of his nose.
Shelly told me the doctor and nurses had a hard time taking care of
him because they were laughing too hard.
When Shelly told me about the Christmas gift from Bodacious, I laughed
until I cried. So please, when you''re out snow blowing this winter be very
careful of what lies underneath that snow!
-- Donna Siefker <dsiefker @ apelima.com>
A PUPPY''S 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS
On the first day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
The Santa topper from the Christmas tree.
On the second day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.
On the third day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.
On the fourth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.
On the fifth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.
On the sixth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Six yards of soggy ribbon
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.
On the seventh day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Seven scraps of wrapping paper
Six yards of soggy ribbon
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.
On the eighth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Eight tiny reindeer fragments
Seven scraps of wrapping paper
Six yards of soggy ribbon
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.
On the ninth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
My wreath in nine pieces
Eight tiny reindeer fragments
Seven scraps of wrapping paper
Six yards of soggy ribbon
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.
On the tenth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Ten Christmas cards I shoulda mailed
My wreath in nine pieces
Eight tiny reindeer fragments
Seven scraps of wrapping paper
Six yards of soggy ribbon
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.
On the eleventh day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Eleven unwrapped presents
Ten Christmas cards I shoulda mailed
My wreath in nine pieces
Eight tiny reindeer fragments
Seven scraps of wrapping paper
Six yards of soggy ribbon
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.
On the twelfth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
A dozen puppy kisses, and I forgot all about the other eleven days.
Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

ORDINARY PEOPLE
by Nancy B. Gibbs
As the Christmas season of 1996 was quickly approaching, I wasn''t
listening to Christmas carols, decorating the house or baking Christmas
cookies.
As a matter of fact, I dreaded Christmas.
Two months earlier, my father''s doctor informed us that Daddy probably
wouldn''t live another twelve months. If the doctor was right, this would
be Daddy''s last Christmas. While I wanted to make the best of the holiday,
the dread of the coming event filled my soul.
Because Daddy needed around the clock medical care, he resided in a
long term care facility.
"Everybody needs to be able to go home for Christmas," I told my
husband, Roy. We evaluated how much money it would take for Daddy to spend
the day at home. We would have to rent a hospital bed. Daddy would have
to be transported by ambulance, since he couldn''t ride in a car. We would
have to hire a nurse to come to stay with him.
After the figures were totaled, I realized I didn''t have nearly enough
money to bring Daddy home for Christmas.
One morning, as I drove the sixty plus miles to visit with Daddy in
his nursing home room, I heard an important announcement on the radio. The
deejay mentioned that the station would be making twelve wishes come true
that Christmas.
"My dream is simply too big," I said aloud in my car. Then the Bible
verse in Luke 1:37 came to my mind: "For nothing is impossible with God."
As I drove the remainder of the way to the nursing home, I prayed.
"Please God, help me to take Daddy home for Christmas."
That night after I returned home from my trip, I wrote a letter to the
radio station. I explained my father''s terminal illness, how we had always
spent Christmas Eve together in his home, and how my greatest wish was to
bring Daddy home one more time. I listed what it would take to make my
wish come true. The next day, I said a prayer and dropped my letter in the
mailbox.
Several days passed. I received a telephone call at work. "Your wish
is coming true," the deejay announced.
For a few seconds I was speechless. All the plans to bring Daddy home
for Christmas were already made! A medical supply company would donate a
hospital bed. A medical transportation company had agreed to take Daddy
home that morning and then back to the nursing home that night. A nurse,
who was also a young mother, agreed to spend Christmas Eve with us that
year.
A few things happened health-wise with Daddy that caused us to worry
that he wouldn''t be able to make the trip. Daddy spent several days the
week before Christmas in the hospital. But two days before Christmas Eve,
God performed a miracle. He made Daddy well enough to come home.
On Christmas Eve morning, I met the ambulance at the nursing home. I
rode along humming Christmas carols. My heart felt like it would explode
with joy. My greatest wish was coming true. My mom had gotten busy and
decorated the house. When we arrived, I walked beside the stretcher as the
technicians carried Daddy inside. When Daddy saw his home, tears filled
his eyes. There wasn''t a dry eye in the house, including the eyes of the
nurse and the medical technicians.
That Christmas Eve was a day that I will never forget.
I saw an awesome amount of love as it poured from the hearts of many
people. The deejays, a young nurse, two medical technicians, and the
owners of a medical supply company, gave freely of their hearts to make my
greatest Christmas wish come true. I was then, and forever will be,
grateful for their generosity.
I experienced what I already knew in my heart -- that God uses
ordinary people like you and me to make heartfelt Christmas wishes come
true.
Maybe this is the year that God would like to use YOU to make
someone''s greatest Christmas wish come true.
Are you willing to freely give of yourself to bring joy to another
person''s life?
-- Nancy B. Gibbs <daiseydood @ aol.com>
Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

ICE BREAKER
by Lissa M. Lee
It wasn''t your typical Christmas party.
The invitation read, "You are invited to share an evening of elegance..."
I hadn''t attended a formal dinner party in years. It had been even
longer since I had worn a formal. But here I was surrounded by sixteen
other women -- ornately adorned in evening gowns, sparkling jewels and
heavy perfumes.
The tables were frosted with china, crystal, silver, gold, linen,
Battenberg lace, tapers, candelabras, holly, ivy and poinsettias. Southern
Living magazine would have died for the photo op.
And the food -- stuffed mushrooms, crab bisque, artichoke hearts,
crepes and the mouth watering list continued. The dessert tray was a
dieter''s nightmare.
There was not one thing left undone. Even the ice breaker was unique.
Our hostess planned a delightful ice breaker to stimulate
conversations and avoid awkward silences. Everyone had to tell their
favorite true personal Christmas memory. Then each table would vote on the
best story.
After dinner, before the gift exchange, the winners from each table
would present their story and the entire group would vote on the best
story.
The winner would receive a spectacular prize!
The tables hummed as each treasure chest of Christmas memories was
opened. Some stories were of abundance, some of generosity received, and
others of public humiliation. But the winning story was a true Christmas
miracle.
Laura''s family owned a Golden Labrador Retriever named Sandy. It was
the only pet her youngest son, Steven, had ever known. The two were
inseparable.
That summer, a neighbor decided to build an ad***ion to their home. A
construction crew began the work. Every day Steven and Sandy would sit in
the yard and watch the laborers transform the house. Several of the crew
admired Sandy and would share lunch scraps with her.
Near the completion of the job, Laura realized Sandy was missing. She
searched the entire neighborhood. No one had seen the dog. When she asked
the construction crew, they became very vague about the dog''s
disappearance. Laura realized that Sandy had probably been stolen by one
of the crewmen and would never be seen again.
That night, Laura had to break the news to Steven. He was devastated.
The inconsolable sobs of a nine year old boy filled the house.
Weeks went by. Christmas season arrived. Laura asked Steven what he
wanted for Christmas.
"I want Sandy back," was his reply. And that was his response all
season whenever anyone asked.
Laura was heartbroken. She didn''t know what to do. Another dog
wouldn''t be the right solution. She felt helpless.
Christmas Eve the family attended the tra***ional midnight Mass. On
the way home, Steven asked Laura if she believed God answered prayers and
if He still did miracles.
"Of course," she assured him, wondering why he had asked.
"Good!" he smiled and then ran off to bed.
Christmas day arrived. Steven was the first one up. He raced to the
front door because he had heard a noise.
There on the doorstep was Sandy -- wearing a new collar, wagging her
tail and ecstatic to be home!
Laura called the number on the dog collar and this is what she learned:
Apparently one of the construction crewmen had stolen Sandy. She must
have escaped and wound up in an animal shelter 60 miles away. A family had
adopted her.
That fall, the family purchased a new home and moved during Christmas
week. Their new home was only two blocks over from Laura''s house. When
Sandy found herself in familiar surroundings, she did what all beloved pets
do -- she headed for home!
Sandy''s new owners understood and insisted Steven keep his long lost
best friend. Laura''s family graciously obtained another dog for their new
neighbors and soon Sandy and Steven both had new friends.
Needless to say, Laura''s story won hands down! I don''t even remember
any of the other stories.
Her Christmas miracle warmed everyone''s heart and reminded each of us
that God still answers prayers, and miracles are awaiting us behind every
opened door!
-- Lissa M. Lee <priceless_pearl @ charter.net>
Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

THE FUNNY THINGS KIDS SAY
A friend of Kathleen''s was teaching her first grade class about
endangered animals. One endangered animal is the elephant. After a long
discussion, a little girl raised her hand and asked, "Why don''t they just
plant more elephant seeds?" -- Kathleen of Pennsylvania
Billie was with her friend''s grandson, Phoenix. One evening they were
looking at Christmas lights. Phoenix was awestruck. When they came to a
house with an angel on top of the manger scene, he exclaimed, "Look,
Billie, the Tooth Fairy!" -- Billie Vaughn of Texas
Mike was in kindergarten when a local dentist came to school to talk
to the kids about dental hygiene. When Mike got home he reported, "Mom,
the Tooth Fairy was at school today!" -- Sue Strausbaugh (mother of Mike)
of Gas City, Indiana
Five-year-old Makenzie drew a picture of her newly acquired
step-father. When she showed it to her grandmother, Grandma asked what he
was standing on. Makenzie looked at her grandmother in disbelief. Quite
exasperated, she said, "It''s a step; he''s my step-father!" -- Sally
Hershiser (grandmother of Makenzie) of Ohio
Sean came home from kindergarten and asked his grandmother if she had
any marbles. She told him, yes, and she would show him how to play when
the weather got better. He said that his teacher lost her marbles and he
wanted to bring her some. (His teacher had misplaced something and had
said in frustration, "I''ve lost my marbles!") -- Barbara Gocus
(grandmother of Sean) of Oregon
A number of years ago Fern took her 8-year-old son Tim into the K-Mart
to buy Christmas presents. He walked in and said, "I smell toys!" Fern
also tells about when her boys were 4, 6, 9 and 11 and she took them to a
mall where they had their picture taken to be made into a calendar, a
surprise for their dad for Christmas. On the way home, Fern carefully
instructed them not to "spill the beans." But 4-year-old Ted couldn''t
contain his excitement and ran into the house shouting, "Hey, Dad, guess
what the ''beans'' are!" -- Fern Boldt of Ontario and South Carolina
One day after church, Mandy and her husband were discussing the sermon
that day. It was about grace. Zackery, 4, had sat through the service and
listened to everything the pastor had to say. Mandy''s husband said he
needs grace every day at work. Zackery, who was listening intently, said,
"Every day Daddy has grace because when he comes home he can''t touch his
pants because they are full of grace. (He meant grease!)" -- Mandy Cline
of Butler, Indiana
When Wendy''s son was about 3 or 4, they had some neighbors the next
street over who had several St. Bernard dogs. One day Wendy''s son came
running into the house yelling, "Mommy, the sardines are loose down the
street!" He was really scared that the big "sardines" were running loose
without the owner. He is now 34. -- Wendy Harmon of Virginia
Mary''s brother and his family enjoy hosting the family Christmas Eve
get-together. They serve a variety of goodies, including shrimp, cheese
and vegetable trays, several meats and meat dishes, a number of salads,
including German Potato Salad and many desserts. Tabitha, 3, asked grandpa
if he would fix her something to eat? "Sure I will," he said. "What would
you like?" Tabitha replied, "Cereal." -- Mary Jansen (great-aunt of
Tabitha) of Kendallville, Indiana
Christian, who likes to "borrow" DVDs from his grandparents, said,
"Grampy, did you come to get your movies back? ''Cause I only have ''Kangaroo
Jack'' and ''The Green Hog'' (The Incredible Hulk)!" -- Linda Davis
(grandmother of Christian) of California, Pa.
Joshua, 3, attends a Baptist preschool. To get the children thinking
about the real meaning of Christmas, the teacher had them make Happy
Birthday Candles to Jesus. When he got into the car after school, Joshua
excitedly told his mother about his candle. Then he added, "I just don''t
know how we are going to get His cake up to Him in heaven!" -- Wendy
Palmisano (mother of Joshua) of Melbourne, Fla.
Ruth was helping the students in her four-year-old Sunday School class
to make Christmas ornaments. It was a bit hard. Luke said in a very
matter-of-fact way, "This is just too constipated (complicated!)" -- Ruth
Rechenbach of near Cincinnati, Ohio
Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .

A COLD WORLD
by Cherine Bissinger
As I wake up cozy and warm on this bitterly cold morning, I find
myself anguishing again over the same thoughts.
Since the weather turned *****bzero temperatures, I cannot suppress
the overwhelming feelings of desperation for the countless animals forced
to endure a torturous existence at the hands of cruel, sadistic "owners"
who willfully neglect their basic physiological and psychological needs.
I wish I didn''t care as much as I do. Life for me would be far more
enjoyable living ignorantly and blissfully. But alas, I am surrounded on a
daily basis by selfish individuals who take care of themselves without ever
extending an act kindness towards other living, breathing creatures.
While preparing my breakfast, I glance over and admire my two glorious
dogs snoring on the couch. I tiptoe over to give them a kiss without
disrupting their peaceful sleep. Their coats are shiny, bellies well
nourished, bodies warm and spirits filled with a joie de vive. This is how
pets should exist in our world. I feel lucky to have them, and I cherish
their presence.
Driving to work, I recall the most influential narrative concerning
the treatment of animals to have ever been relayed over the radio.
Listening to my favorite local station, I became profoundly moved by a
story entitled "How Could You?" by author Jim Willis.
I sobbed inconsolably as the on-air radio personality struggled his
way through the powerful words. This time, I quickly push the memory to
the back of my mind in order not to arrive at work crying. I suddenly
shudder from the cold air penetrating deep into my bones and crippling my
extremities, so I immediately turn up the heat in my car. How fortunate to
have instantaneous relief. I gaze out the window at the barren countryside
and become stricken with disbelief at the never ending sight of helpless
farm animals wandering aimlessly without any visible shelter. Goats, cows
and horses standing in complete abandonment. I look at my watch and notice
that it''s only 6am. Have these animals been enduring this frigid climate
all night? As I pass one farm, I glare at a frighteningly dilapidated barn
house with apparent movement inside. Surely there aren''t animals inside
this exposed shack?
It seems that no matter where I look, animals would appear. Stray
cats running across the road, dogs chained to tiny wooden huts in already
fenced-in yards.
"What is the matter with people," I think to myself. "How can they
sleep at night with the knowledge that animals in their possession are
suffering?" It''s beyond comprehension.
Arriving in town, I drive around the neighborhood and note the same
observations -- a total disregard for decency and blatant lack of
compassion for animal welfare on one of the coldest days this year. As I
park my car at my place of work, my attention is drawn over to the left at
the sight of a dog wagging his tail. The sun has not yet risen and the
home attached to the enclosed yard housing the dog is unlit. My heart
sinks thinking that this innocent dog has spent the night outside in the
blustery wind and arctic temperatures, all the while his human counterparts
slept contentedly indoors, snuggled comfortably in their beds, without once
considering the painful effects of such inhumanity.
I walk over to the dog and see that he is, of course, tied to a dog
house. Perhaps the owners realize that the life they''re providing for
their pet is so unbearable that given a chance, the dog would rather jump
the fence and become homeless than be treated as an inanimate lawn fixture.
The closer I get to the fence, the more excited the furry tail becomes.
From a few feet away, I witness the look of anticipation on his face. I
know he''s hoping that someone has finally come to take him away from this
misery. He jumps up and barely places his front paws on the fence, as much
as the length of the chain will permit.
He is shivering wildly and is cold to the touch. Tiny icicles have
formed around his whiskers. A backyard light from the neighbor''s house
provides sufficient luminescence for me to view the dog''s stainless steel
bowl filled solid with ice. The inside of his dog house is covered with
snow. The yard has never been shoveled. Children''s toys are scattered
throughout the yard.
"Great," I think to myself. "They''re also teaching children by
example." My sadness turns to rage. How could they do that! Why do such
heartless people own animals? Pets or farm animals -- there is no excuse
for this merciless neglect and intentional maltreatment. As the glacial
wind howls in the moonlight, my ears feel like pins and needles. I begin
to whisper words of comfort to the dog. I tell him how much I love him and
express my sorrow for his predicament. My tears of rage turn to ice,
similar to the feelings of animosity I maintain towards the dog''s owners.
With a gentle pat on his head, I regretfully turn to walk inside my
workplace with innumerable thoughts whirling in my mind. Each step I take
away from the dog, I imagine his desolate look of devastation for having
been forgotten and ignored. The heartbreaking image consumes me as I
initiate my first plan of action and contact the Humane Society to rescue
this pup.
As my body temperature warms up, I identify with the thousands of
animals suffering in silence. Life is unjust. A coworker spots me from a
distance and quickly comments on my visible air of distress. I recount the
events of my morning arrival, and I watch his face turn pale -- the
familiar look of another animal lover. He assures me that he will keep an
eye on the fenced dog to make certain the canine is taken away from the
home.
Within the hour, the Humane Society arrives and removes the dog. I
follow up by telephone and am told that the dog will eventually be placed
for adoption. I find myself relieved to have been able to help one animal,
but what about the myriad of others?
Like chained animals, I feel as though my hands are tied by feeble
anti-cruelty laws and public apathy. As human beings, our conscience
implores us to assist animals that are physically abused and emotionally
denied by altering public perception and strengthening animal welfare laws.
My purpose for writing is to avenge such inexcusable affliction, to
advocate on behalf of those unable to communicate in a language
recognizable by people, and to encourage more individuals to extend their
humanity to animals.
-- Cherine Bissinger <doolexa @ hotmail.com>
Cha Mẹ nuôi con như biển hồ lai láng .Con nuôi Cha Mẹ sao tính tháng , tính ngày .