Little Ol Ladies - Little Ol Men

"The Christmas tree, whether large or small, is the symbol of the power our ancestors attributed to evergreen plants, as survivors of winter."   Little old ladies, little old men, On Christmas shopping sprees, Hugging purses, clutching billfolds, As they search for Christmas trees.   Artificial, plastic trees, That come in greens and whites, Pre-decorated and pre-lit, With pretty twinkling lights.   Oh, so many - all alike, Shaky fingers lift them down, Carefully they look at them, Turning each tree round and round.   Where's the price tag?  Who can read it? The print is smaller now, you know, Oh ... that's too much ... put it back, There are cheaper ones below.   There's a little one that's pretty, Oh yes ... but ... it's so small, You know, we never had a tree, Less than six feet tall.   Well, no more trees like that, my dear, That was then; this is now, You can't handle one that big, Where would you put it anyhow?   Oh ... that's right ... of course, For a moment ... I forgot, I was thinking of the kids What they wanted, when I shopped.   "LADY, DO YOU WANT THAT TREE? PLEASE MAKE UP YOUR MIND! THERE'S OTHER PEOPLE WAITING HERE, YOU'RE HOLDING UP THE LINE!"   Oh dear ... oh my ... oh pardon me, I guess I'm in the way, I was just looking for a tree, To have on Christmas day.   There ... that one ... that's the one, The green one ... up in front, No ... not the white one ... I want green, Yes, that's the tree I want.   Little old ladies, little old men, Their chosen trees in grocery sacks, Hurrying home to decorate, With bits of this and bits of that.   In the evening, home alone, Tiny, twinkling Christmas trees, Are cheering gentle, lonely souls, And stirring up old memories.   Christmas is for kids, they say, I've heard that time and time again, But that's not fair; it must be shared, With these old ladies and old men.   Six-foot trees and toys and things, Are children's Christmas pleasures, But plastic trees and memories, Are old folk's Christmas treasures.   Little old ladies, little old men Sometimes cry at Christmas time, Caught up in special, private thoughts, With precious pictures in their minds.   Let them have their tiny trees, These old ladies and old men, Let them enjoy the Day their way, One day you may be one of them.   Virginia (Ginny) Ellis Copyright December 2002 ~ Revised December 2005 Thanks For Visiting

Santa's Diet

Christmas is approaching and Santa is a little worried. In fact, he remembers that last year he struggled not a little to go through the chimney of Sonia's house. He had to do it now! So Santa Claus decided to go on a diet: no pasta, no baked chicken and not even one of those delicious cakes that he liked so much…. Nothing at all! Santa was starting to feel a little depressed, but he had to resist. What would he look like if Sonia and her parents found him stuck in the fireplace the next morning? And worse still, what would he look like with all the children in the world if stuck in Sonia's fireplace he couldn't finish the tour? Yes, yes, Santa took diet seriously and started eating plain salad and raw vegetables like celery, carrots, in short, things that are not really mouth watering. Day after day Santa Claus found himself losing weight ... a pound or two ... "Wow a little bit", thought Santa Claus looking at the needle of the scale. “I have to do something more”. So he started running every morning and doing some gymnastics every night before going to sleep. But after two weeks of hardship and fatigue he thought: “But if I arrive destroyed and without strength I will not be able to finish the gift delivery job that awaits me on Christmas Eve!”. No sooner said than done Santa Claus stopped running and eating raw vegetables and resumed eating his plate of pasta, but less exaggerated than before, his leg of chicken and not a whole chicken, a slice of cake and not all together at once. ! Christmas Eve arrived and Santa Claus arrived at Sonia's house and happily realized that he could easily climb down the chimney. It was the same for the fireplaces of all the children in the world and thinking of their sweet hearts and their sweet smiles Santa Claus exclaimed: "These are my favorite sweets ... and they don't even make me fat !!!" Thanks For Visiting

Angels At The Big Wheel

In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. He did manage to leave 15 dollars a week to buy groceries. Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either. If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it. I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress. I loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job. The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck. The kids stayed, crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job. Still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that night. I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal. That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel. When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money-fully half of what I averaged every night. As the weeks went by, heating bills added another strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home. One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered. I made a deal with the owner of the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires. I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning. Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair. On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel. These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine. The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up. When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning I hurried to the car. I was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up before I managed to get home and get the presents from the basement and place them under the tree. (We had cut down a small cedar tree by the side of the road down by the dump.) It was still dark and I couldn't see much, but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the car-or was that just a trick of the night? Something certainly looked different, but it was hard to tell what. When I reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows. Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was full-full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the driver's side door, scrambled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was a whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes: There were candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items. And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll. As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning. Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop. I BELIEVE IN ANGELS! They live next door, around the corner, work in your office, patrol your neighborhood, call you at midnight to hear you laugh and listen to you cry, teach your children, and you see them everyday without even knowing it! Thanks For Visiting

The Twelve Days of Thanksgiving

"On the first day of Thanksgiving, I was thankful for . . ." This festive story starts with ONE cozy evening at home with family, then adds 2 sacks of apples, and 3 fall squash, counting up through the 12 days leading to Thanksgiving. Each day your child is thankful for something new as well as everything they were thankful for the day before. The list goes on with listing different things they are thankful for up to 12 days before Thanksgiving. "The 12 Days of Thanksgiving" by Jenna Lettice Sing it to the tune of The 12 Days of Christmas! An evening at home with family Two sacks of apples Three fall squash Four golden buckels Five piles of leaves Six turkeys gobbling, Seven sports fans playing Eight loved ones hugging Nine aunts arriving Ten uncles baking Eleven hot pies cooling, and Twelve cousins giggling Get your copy at: GoodReads - StoryBook    Thanks For Visiting

Christmas Trees In Heaven

[enlarge] (In memory of Christine Elizabeth Hanson) >  Mamma, are there Christmas trees in Heaven? Do the lights flash off and on? Is the tinsel gold, or silver, or blue? Tell me what do all those angels do. Do they hang the ornaments on each green branch? Do the angels hold candles and do a Christmas dance? Is there snow of white and ribbons of gold? Tell me what each branch holds. Does anyone place a star at the very top? Are there candy canes and chocolate drops? Do you still tie red ribbons your special way? Tell me what do you do in Heaven on Christmas day. Does anyone bring you a card or a poinsettia there? Do you still have apples and oranges like we used to share? Are there Christmas dinners with pecan pie? Do you remember as the Christmas tree came down how you used to cry? All these questions run through my mind tonight. It's just that Christmas without you Mamma just doesn't seem right. I know in Heaven you are forever happy throughout the year. I know there is not a worry, a regret, or a tear. I know you are with the angels who sing around the throne. I know you are never hungry, tired, or alone. Light up a star for me if you get the time. I will know it is yours when I see its light shine. Thanks For Visiting