The Empty Chairs . . .

As we gather 'round the tables

One more year to celebrate

Our eyes begin to feast

While we overfill our plates

 

Sound of laughter and instruction

Mouth-filled sighs of glorious taste

Giving thanks for received blessings

And for elastic girded waists

 

In the midst of all the gathering

A simple stillness in plain view

Empty chairs quietly marking

Our ever-present thoughts of you

 

Telling stories, we hear your laughter

Sharing trials, we feel your tears

Recalling memories, we see your smiles

Looking ahead, we know you're near

 

Though absent from our presence

You've never left where you belong

Ever-present in our living

As we carry you along.

 

 



It was Christmas Eve about 23 years ago . . .

We had traveled by train to Grandma’s house to celebrate the season.  Just 3 years old, he had fun climbing up into the attic, finding the Christmas tree and decorations.  He helped his Daddy put up the tree, and he laughed and smiled as we helped decorate it. 

Later that evening, we all piled into Grandpa’s big car, and went to church for a candle light Christmas Eve service.  He stood on the pew as we all stood and sang, bowing his head and clasping his hands tightly as we all prayed together in thanksgiving for all we have been blessed with.  He sat with reverence, as the communion plates were passed, and when the usher asked him if he knew what the communion items were for, he replied in a hushed voice, “don’t you know? It’s Jesus’ body and blood, ‘cause he loves us and wants us to love him”. At the end of the service, he held his own little candle still and smiling, as we all sang Silent Night.  The service ended and cookies and punch were enjoyed in the big room just off of the Church kitchen. 

Several people came by, shook his hand, admired his auburn hair, and asked him if he had been a good boy this year.  He nodded his head, with his cookie in his hand, and would often ask if they had been good too. 

Back at Grandma’s, everyone sat down in the dining room chairs that he had placed in a row, and he told the Christmas story using a huge coloring page that he had taped to the wall. 

Just before bed, in the middle of giving hugs to everyone, Grandma asked him what he wanted Santa to bring him . . . he cocked his head to the side, and with a very thoughtful look he said . . . “I would like a Rudolph puppet with a light up nose.”  There was nothing else that he wanted.  This made his Momma and Daddy, Grandma and Grandpa all look at each other with puzzled looks.  There had been no commercials for such a thing, it wasn’t the latest toy, or biggest thing on the market.  He had never been one to ask for anything for Christmas or his birthday for that matter, so to come up with something so specific, was rare, and no one wanted him to be disappointed. 

Grandma and Grandpa lived in a very small town in Wisconsin.  The type of town with the main street decorated with lanterns and wreaths.  At one end was a park with a little Red School House, and the other . . . a gazebo with lights and bows of greenery adorning it.  All of the shops were closed by 5pm, and other than one gas station, right by the interstate, nothing was 24 hours.  What could be done?

His Momma pulled out her bag, and began to look through it.  She had brought white tube socks, with green tops that she and B had made stockings for everyone out of.  One sock was left.  She also found a battery operated candle she had brought for B to use in the church service, which he hadn’t.  Holding the two items, she looked up, and saw that everyone else was smiling.  They knew the gauntlet of challenge had been cast down, and that she was not going to do anything less, but come up with a Rudolph puppet with a light up nose.  Daddy found some old batting in a cupboard, grandma brought her some scissors.  Grandpa found the sewing kit, while Momma found two green pipe cleaners and a marker in her bag.  She sat to work, cutting a little hole in the toe of the sock, and placed the top of the battery candle through it.  She glued some eyes on, and after bending them into the shape of antlers, she sewed the two green pipe cleaners onto the top of the reindeer head.  The batting was placed in the toe of the sock all around the candle that was the handle inside the puppet.  Only one thing was missing, till Grandma found some red fingernail polish . . . A few strokes of it on the top of the battery operated candle “nose”, made the transformation complete.  Then the big test . . . she twisted the handle and the newly painted red nose, lit up, and with that, a Rudolph puppet with a red nose had been made.  It was a funny looking, homemade attempt, but was the best that could be done with such short notice, with only items at hand.  The reindeer was placed in the top of his stocking, and everyone else finally went to bed. 

Christmas morning was a happy time, with B giving out big Christmas Hugs and Kisses to everyone.  Then, the moment came to open our stockings . . . B’s eyes lit up brightly as he found the homemade puppet.  He laughed and giggled, and when he twisted the candle’s bottom and Rudolph’s nose lit up, his smile was indescribable.  It was exactly what he had asked for.  Someone asked him if he was surprised.  His answer made everyone pause, “Nope.  It’s Jesus’ birthday, and God always knows what gifts to give.” 

Over the years, many gifts have been given, received, then passed on to others, but the Rudolph puppet with a light up nose, is packed away in a keepsake box.  It is a reminder that when loved ones come together, in the spirit of giving, even the most challenging requests and needs can be met.  As you give of yourself with the heart of Christmas, know that God will bless those gifts, and the hearts of those who receive. 

Merry Christmas

. . . Sitting on the Kitchen Floor . . .

. . . it is early Christmas morning at the BP (BJ’s Bachelor Pad) and as he is asleep in his bed and Daniel is curled up asleep in the recliner, I find myself sitting on the floor of the kitchen bathed in the twinkling lights of his little Star Wars Christmas Tree on the counter, looking at the oven, wondering how I am going to cook the ham . . . with the roasting pan, that I forgot, sitting at home on the counter of my kitchen . . .  with my white ducky earphones in, and my iPod blasting my favorite Christmas tunes in my ears, I find myself smiling, lip singing along (Millie Vanillie has nothing on me) and air directing the Glenn Miller Band, I begin to reminisce back in my mind of all of the Christmases past,  and all of the joys and blessings in my life.  There is so much!!!  . . . memories of my siblings teasing me about being good enough for Santa to come . . . holding the light strands as my Big Brother Davy’s #1 helper, while he placed each light on the perfect branch . . . Mom giving us weeks of clues about our “special gift” that each of us got . . . the stacks of Church Bulletin Boxes that Daddy saved all year for our gifts to be wrapped in. . . memorizing my part for the Christmas pageant  . . . “I wish I was an angel . . .” My Nephews pouting to their mom and saying, “Aunt Debbie will say yes, She loves us . . .” (which tickled me to no end . . . and was always true . . . ) the many 1sts . . . 1^st Christmas with my 2^nd Mother Donnie, 1^st as Husband and Wife with Daniel . . . 1^st Christmas with my New In-laws . . .1^st Christmas as a New Mom with BJ . . . and then there are all of the people that have come into my life over the years . . . At each of the churches and each of the states we have lived in . . . My Alaskan Cruise Table 124 Ladies . . . my fellow Wal-Mart Associates . . . my G.L.U.E.  Sisters . . . My little sis Sina . . . My adopted daughter Ana . . . all of the little ones I taught in Pre Schools . . . I must be a sight! Laughing, smiling, crying sitting here on the floor . . . my heart is bursting!  How can one person be so very blessed? . . . Like the Cheftestants on Top Chef, I will invent a way to cook the ham with limited time and resources, and as for picking my best Christmas ever? . . . It is this one . . . the one that I am living now, for today is The Present, and next to the Gift of Jesus, is the Greatest Gift I Have Received!  Merry Christmas everyone! And to quote Tiny Tim, “and God Bless Us, Everyone!” – Deb                                                                   

Blue Dishes . . .

Daddy was always looking for ways to do special things for those he loved.  It was the summer of our country’s Bicentennial, and for the first time in a long time all of our family was going to be together at the parsonage for dinner on the 4^th of July.  There were going to be people from 4 generations and I was so excited. 

In the weeks before, many plans were being made.  When so many came at once, we usually fed everyone in the church’s fellowship hall that was just behind the parsonage.  Everyone would sit around one of the big rectangle tables in folding chairs, and we would use paper plates and plastic ware, but this celebration was just too special, and Mamma really wanted to have everyone seated together around our dining room table. 

The church we had been at prior to this one had given the entire dining room suit to Daddy and Mamma, for their dedicated service, and their wedding anniversary.  It was so beautiful.  The table could be small, or expand, with leaves placed in its middle, till it would fill the entire room.  The chairs were high backs with a cut out that was filled with a beautiful cane weave that made little holes to peep through.  Their seats were covered in warm, deep, golden velour that would change from light to dark with a brush of your hand.  Two of the chairs also had arms, and they were the chairs for the head and foot of the table. 

In our new parsonage, the table sat centered under a chrystal chandelier that Mamma had found at a yard sale, cleaned up, and had installed.  She dipped each glass crystal in a bath of vinegar water with just a drop of dish soap, and dried each one by hand with a cloth.  When it was done, and turned on, it sparkled like the stars in the sky, and cast little dots of light all across the top of the smooth as glass table.  It was such a beautiful effect, that we stood back and admired it.  The dining room set also came with a huge china hutch.  It was 6 foot wide and almost 8 foot tall.  The doors were wood framed glass, so that anything inside, on the glass shelves could be seen and admired from any place in the room.  Mamma had put in some candles, and some carnival glass bowls that Daddy had won for her at the amusement park years before. She polished some silver platters and set them in the hutch too, but we had no dishes fine enough to be displayed.  Daddy was determined to find some china dishes that we could afford to use for our family’s and country’s upcoming special celebration.

Not having much money to spare, Daddy decided to sell some of his fishing equipment, and one of his guitars.  Daddy was very good at making deals with people, but the money he got also had to go for food for everyone, so he had to make the money go as far as it could.  While he was out making calls on people in their homes, and at the hospital, he would take a few minutes to run in a store, or yard sale, keeping his eye out for the set of dishes he could surprise Mamma with.  Nothing really spoke to him, as he called it, and he was beginning to think he might not be able to find the dishes he knew he was meant to find. 

Then one afternoon, Daddy came into the parsonage and told me to get my shoes on, he needed my help.  I asked him where we were going, but he held his finger up across his lips, telling me not to say anything.  The twinkle in his eyes shone brightly, and I began to giggle inside, because I knew that he had finally found the dishes.  We got into the car, and headed off on our secret mission.  I was really surprised when we ended up at the grocery store.  I looked very puzzled at Daddy, but he just took my hand, his eyes still twinkling, and said we would need two shopping carts.  Daddy pushed one, and I got to push the other.  Once in the store, I followed Daddy to the center of the store just across the aisle from the checkout stands.  There was a huge display of the most beautiful blue and white dishes I had ever seen!  Each plate, bowl, and serving piece had a different picture from our nation’s history.  There was Paul Revere riding his horse, Betsey Ross working on our flag, Washington crossing the Delaware, and at Valley Forge.  Pictures of the North Church, Independence Hall, and Monticello also decorated dishes. Even the Boston Tea Party was on the cover of a vegetable bowl.  My breath was taken away, and all I could do is smile and imagine them set out for dinner.  They were perfect! 

The store was having a special promotion, and with each $20.00 of groceries bought, you could buy a place setting or serving piece for a special price.  Daddy had already bought one five piece place setting for $1.99 that came in a white box with blue writing.  It was hidden in the trunk of the car.  Daddy said we had to get all of the place settings that we would need first, and then see how many of the other pieces we could afford by the time the end of the promotion on July 3^rd.  So that day, and several times a week, Daddy and I went out to “run errands” we would always get two shopping carts, and get $20.00 worth of groceries each, and a place setting for $1.99.  When we would get home, I would carry the groceries in and Daddy would hide the dishes in his work area in the garage, so Mamma wouldn’t know till she could see all of the dishes at once. 

Mamma was planning on setting the table with our everyday dishes, and, since there weren't enough of just one set, she was planning who would get what so the table would look its best.  We made little place cards, and folded paper napkins to make them look more special.  Mamma had found a set of gold colored silverware at a garage sale, and in the afternoons we would sit together cleaning each piece and admiring the special set.  I felt like bursting trying to keep the secret of the dishes, but I never let on. 

It was the last week in June, and Daddy was getting a bit worried.  We still didn’t have all of the set, and he was having to find a few more things to sell, and people to sell them to, so we would have enough money to get a few of the serving pieces for Mamma.  Finally, on July 3^rd, about a half hour before the store was to close, Daddy and I went on our final errand, we had to get a platter for the center of our table and dinner.  As we approached the dwindling display, the store manager came up to greet us.  Daddy shook his hand and asked him how he was doing, how his family was, and such.  Rev. Pirtle, the Manager began, I have noticed that you have been in buying a lot of our dishes.  Daddy explained how our family was all gathering together, and the surprise we were making for Mamma.  That’s when the manager decided to surprise us.  He said that we could buy any of the remaining dishes that we needed, without buying any groceries, and we could have them at his cost.  Daddy looked down at me and gave me the wink that said “God is Good”.   That night we were able to buy serving bowls and dishes, the platter, and the beautiful blue glasses set that the store also had. 

When we got home, it was finally time to give Mamma the surprise.  As she sat at the dining room table, we carried in boxes and boxes of dishes.  Mamma couldn’t speak; she just sat and cried happy tears.  We three went to work, and after washing and drying, and carefully placing the dishes the table was set.  The room was dark except for the light of two candles Mamma had placed on the table and we all stood back and admired the beautiful sight. 

That night we thanked God for the dishes, the people who made it possible for us to get them, our family that would be seated around the table the next day, for the food that we would all enjoy together, and for the scenes of our nation’s history printed on each dish. 

After dinner on the 4^th, the dishes were washed and placed in their new home of the china hutch.  Over the years since we have eaten through a lot of good times on those dishes, because Daddy and Mamma said that beautiful dishes were not just for special occasions, but for special people, and family and friends are the most special people of all.

Under Daddy's Chair . . .

Growing up in a parsonage, we always had visitors. Some visitors just came for an hour or two; others came for the day, and sometimes longer. My favorite visitors were traveling musicians. We would get to have special services to listen to their singing and their personal testimonies of how God had saved and helped them in all kinds of ways.

After service, we all ate together in the church fellowship hall. There were tables of meats and casseroles, breads and vegetables and of course, the desert tables. The leftovers were packed up and sent home with us to the parsonage, to help feed the visitors again in the evening. At night, after service and after eating again, the adults gathered ‘round in the living room. All of the seats were taken up, and Daddy brought in extra chairs from the dining room.

Daddy always sat in one of the dining room chairs with its high cane back and gold velour padded seat. He set up his guitar amplifier to the right of his chair, and began to tune his guitars. Momma brought in glasses of ice tea and cups of coffee, and little china plates with pieces of pie and cake centered in them and a fork nestled in on the side. She then sat down to her accordion or melodica and everyone else gathered their instruments. There were guitars and horns, piano and accordions and sometimes even a violin or two. As everyone was getting set, Daddy took me around to say goodnight to everyone, and then tucked me in bed. When Daddy went back into the living room, the music started to fill the house with its wonderful sound.

My favorite was always Daddy’s guitar. He played the piano and organ, and all sorts of guitars, some electric and some not. Others would play guitars too, but they never sounded quite like Daddy's playing. I never stayed in bed. I quietly grabbed my pillow and blanket, and snuck down the hall to the living room. Then getting on my hands and knees I crawled behind the furniture and the legs of visitors, till I reached Daddy’s chair. Crawling under, placed my pillow near the amplifier, laid down and covered up with my blanket.

I loved to watch Daddy’s foot tap up and down to the beat of the music, and his chair swayed and creaked along with the songs. Some songs they just played and others they sang along with. There were church songs, and country songs, and old campfire choruses and funny songs from when Daddy was a little boy. The playing went on for hours, as each person would jump in and say “how about . . . “. The visitors always wanted to hear Daddy sing, and he would when they asked. My pillow vibrated with the amplifier till my cheek almost felt numb, but I didn’t care.

After a while, when some were taking a break to eat more pie and get other cups of coffee, Daddy entertained with “I’m going higher and higher someday” . . . and everyone laughed when he got to the funny verse that mentioned “angel food cake on the table, and heavenly alamode pie” Then he sang, “Hello Operator Give Me Memphis Tennessee . . . “ and I giggled, ‘cause Daddy knew that was one of my most favorite songs for him to play and sing. Daddy paused a moment as if he was listening for something and then with his unplugged guitar, he began to play a soft melody. The room quieted down and I held my breath as Daddy began to sing my favorite song in the world . . .

“A tiny turned up nose, two cheeks just like a rose, so sweet from head to toe, that little Debbie of mine. Two eyes that shine so bright, two lips that kiss goodnight, two arms that hold me tight, that little Debbie of mine. No one will ever know, just what her coming has meant, because I love her so, she’s something heaven has sent. She’s all the world to me, when she climbs upon my knee, to me, she’ll always be, that little Debbie, of . . . mine.”

As I hugged his ankle tight, the music started again, and I fell asleep, smiling in my heart, under Daddy’s chair.

I miss you Daddy!

Happy New Year . . .

Hoping

A

Particularly

Precious

Year

Now

Embarks

With

You

Experiencing

A

Renewal of spirit

The Little Things . . .

It’s the little things that mean the most when added through the years,

The way mom crimps her piecrust edge and hugs away your fears.

It’s the little ways dad makes you smile,  cracking nuts to feed the squirrels,

And making fudge and popcorn . . .  to treat his boys and girls.

It’s the little gifts that friendships bring,  like change to get a coke,

The little hugs and smiles given,  and the laughing at your joke.

It’s the little daily blessings found . . .  left for us by God,

The sunset at the end of day, or dew drops on the sod.

It’s the little baby born one night,  a long,  long time ago.

The little gift of love and hope,  to a world tossed to and fro . . .

So at this time of making lists, wrapping boxes, tying bows,

Wanting to give the very best to loved ones all,  please know . . .

It’s the little gifts of self you give,  all throughout the year,

That bring such joy and happiness,  and nurtures Christmas Cheer.