What do you like with your chili?
I grew up eating chili soup with crackers—lots of crackers when I was little. There were so many crackers in the soup you could barely find the kidney beans or the liquid. I really liked crackers.
But I think I also always liked the soup, the way my mother made it, which is nothing like I make chili today. I like her soup—er, I don’t think I’ve ever met a chili I didn’t like unless it is just too stinkin’ hot, as in spicy. Mama’s soup was mostly hamburger, (chunkier than mine,) tomato juice, kidney beans, onion, and chili powder. No garlic. It was a thin, juicy soup that I sopped up by applying crackers, probably 8-10. That was my thickener. I also ate buttered crackers as my side dish.
Then I grew up and moved away and discovered there was a whole world of chili soup out there, and at least 50 different ways to make it. Host a chili cook off, which our office did, (below) and there were at 5 or so distinctively different tastes, all of them delish.
But my standard “go to” for home is this basic recipe: (and it seems like when I offer people a choice of dishes when my church friends take food to people after surgery or family illness, they frequently choose chili and cornbread, especially in the winter).
Chili Soup (my recipe)
2 cloves garlic, minced
½ large onion, chopped
1 lb. ground beef, finely chopped as you cook it*
1 scant tsp. salt
½ tsp. black pepper
1 ½ tsp. chili powder
1 ½ quart canned tomatoes
½ can 15 oz kidney beans
**1 tsp. chopped hot pepper
Sauté garlic and onion. Add ground beef.
Drain. Add tomatoes, salt, pepper, chili, and hot pepper if desired. Simmer at least ½ hour. Add kidney beans, with liquid, the last 5 minutes or so to heat through. (I always added the beans very last because of one picky child who didn’t want beans in her soup, so I always scooped out a serving for her before adding the beans. It also keeps the beans from getting mushy, unless you want that.)
*(I don’t really like big chunks of hamburger in my soup, I feel it then tastes like you are eating hamburger in your soup, and chopping the beef finely as it cooks up, results in a more finely melded soup and flavor, in my opinion. Below, mostly chopped fine.)
**(Last summer I added just a few pieces—a tsp. maybe–of chopped hot pepper ‘cuz people were giving them away at the office and it definitely added a nice extra dash I think I’m falling in love with.)
Chili before it has simmered.
Next question: What do you serve with your chili?
Crackers? Cornbread? Tortilla chips? Other hot bread? Grilled cheese sandwiches?
Our tradition is cornbread. And I have a really really easy recipe that uses liquid shortening (vegetable oil or other) that you can easily whip together while the soup simmers. I will share it sometime.
(And I could kick myself for not getting a final picture of a bowl of soup. I whisked it off to the couple I made it for and plum forgot!)
For more family recipes and from Shenandoah Valley cooks, check out my book,
Whatever Happened to Dinner: Recipes and Reflections on Family Mealtime.
I walk frequently for exercise and fresh air on the campus of my alma mater, Eastern Mennonite University. One day I spied something new next to a bus stop.
It was a little shed for books. So cute! Such a perfect and great idea, I wonder who thought of it. Maybe this will help me find out.
An instantly accessible and amazingly trusting little library. With no due date.
Anyone can take or give a book. You can keep it as long as you like and return it or bring other books you no longer want on your own shelves.
It. Is. So. Cute. I just had to write about it.
I wonder if there are more around campus or town? Or have you ever seen anything like this near where you live?
So far I have taken three books, returned one, and put in four or five myself. I get lots of free books as a syndicated columnist, sent for possible review. A new home for the titles I can’t give away at the office.
The first book I took was a disappointment, so I took it back after a few weeks.
My favorite book so far, is an absolutely stunningly written story, Abel’s Island by William Steig, with drawings. It’s stamped as removed from the Moorefield (WV) High School Library, so maybe it shows up on high school English class reading lists, but it is a great book to read to younger children. It received the 1970 Caldecott Medal and Newberry Award.
Just one sentence gives a little of the great literary style of the writer:
“Heaven knows how far he was hustled in this manner, or how many rocks he caromed off on his way.”
The plot revolves around a mouse who gets swept away from a picnic in a rain storm to an island, away from his beloved wife, Amanda, and how he tries, and tries, and tries to escape and return home.
That the writer can make you care so much for a little mouse, a little guy who would send shivers up most of our spines if we happen to see him darting through the kitchen or a corner of the basement, is a testament to the power of good fiction. You can read a sample (and even hear a great long! excerpt here.)
A book I’m reading now, that I would never never never have found or ordered anywhere else, is an obscure older book from the 50s written about the “Bushmen” of of the Kalahari desert in Botswana and South-West Africa by Elizabeth Marshall Thomas called The Harmless People. I’m always fascinated by the idea that there are people on this planet who live without all of the “necessities” of modern life and have no electricity, running water, cell service, and don’t know or care that Obama is President of the U.S. So even though the book describes that culture as written in 1958, I have no doubt that there are still people living much as the author describes from her time living among the Bushmen.
A blurb from Amazon: “Her account of these nomadic hunter-gatherers, whose way of life had remained unchanged for thousands of years, is a ground-breaking work of anthropology, remarkable not only for its scholarship but for its novelistic grasp of character.”
Books can help you travel the world—or just inside the marvelous imagination of another writer or illustrator. Like the sign says, “just slide back the bolt on the door.” Your mind can be opened to new experiences, thoughts, places, dreams.
And now I can get a free trip anytime I pop by the little book shed. Looks like something my husband could have come up with.
Thank you, creative minds.
***
Do you have a source for free or very low cost books?
(I mean of course besides your local library, duh.)
I also like to visit the local Booksavers shop just a short walk away, where I can get rid of or buy books cheap (and the money goes to support the world wide relief and development efforts of Mennonite Central Committee); but anyone can hop into the Booksavers online store here.
So instead of having the kids and grandkids come over on Sunday afternoon, we have to chat on Google.
Instead of nuzzling soft cheeks and planting grandma kisses, we admire new smiles and don’t mind when the one who needs a nap finally succumbs.
Instead of a hug and Sunday dinner, we content ourselves with the fact that we can be in one visual/virtual space at the same time.
What’s my point?
Gathering by Google chat is way better than not having that option. Especially if you have two really newish grandbabies who are in different cities that you long to see and touch and cuddle.
My daughters are doing a great job of sending random photos, forwarded from Daddy at home to Mommy at work to Grandmas and Grandpas hungry for any glimpse.
Sam, top; James, bottom.
They send short videos of coos and “tummy/play time” which also helps.
About once a month, if no personal visit is planned, we aim to gather by Skype video connection if there are just two hook ups involved, or Google Chat if there are three or more. Since my daughter in grad school is in the same town as one family, that helps.
This past Sunday was the first time we all got together from three locations which isn’t easy to schedule, even then. For one, we don’t have a fast enough Internet connection at home for reasonable video hook up so we have to be in town at my office. The hitch on the other end is babies who are not nursing, not napping, and in a relatively happy mood.
So what do we get by Google Chat that is better than phone? (and no this is not a paid advertisement).
- I am reminded of all the ways that babies are so good at communicating their various needs to their parents, if you can figure out the wahs. Do short firm wahs mean I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m wet, I just need to suck on something, I’m bored, I’m lonely, or what?
Baby Sam, getting wah-y. Also observe Mommy’s face.
- I get to see my other (currently-in-grad-school) daughter who has just spent two evenings babysitting her little nephew, who is getting great baby practice and love: Sam will likely think SHE is the grandma. No, just a great loving aunt. What every baby needs plenty of in addition to grandparents.
- I get to watch them watch a playoff game in which they have mild, not passionate interest.
- I get to watch James, the six-week-old happily gazing around his world, securely cradled by his mom. He lays back, stares, his eyes settle on something else, he wiggles, he listens to his grandparents’ and aunties’ voices. We understand he probably doesn’t see much of us on the screen. Does he hear grandpa say, “Is that my grandson? This is grandpa” etc., brilliant lines like that.
- We get to watch James’ interest pick up greatly when his daddy comes in the room and talks to him a few seconds and coaxes a little smile out of his son.
- When Sam’s wah’s get more intense and I worry he will wake his daddy who has to sleep because of his work shift, Mommy reassures me the wah’s don’t really waft up to the master bedroom.
- I get to watch a fussy baby, who has just come in from a nice long snuggle walk through the neighborhood, go from being normal fussy and tired, to sucking his pacifier, to falling asleep in his mother’s arms.
Later, I email my thanks for the get together (it still takes some arranging, like I said) and doesn’t take the place of long telephone chats where you can talk about complicated frustrations and hassles, or even long ago real letters where spilling one’s true guts is the medium of choice.
A visit, or cup of tea together, or having everyone over for Sunday dinner would be the best, but when that’s not possible, this will have to do. Thank you, ye gods of Google Chat.
Thank you more, ye God of the universe for these wonderful gifts of family, children and grandchildren.
***
What is your favorite or best way to communicate and connect with family members who live at a distance?
Our office has themed potlucks for lunch once a month. Most of us love them because it beats the old brown bag and for me, gives me an excuse to experiment with making something I’ve never maybe made before. My “Easy Stromboli Sandwiches” post a few months back was one of those.
Our theme this month was “Italian” (and yes I could have repeated the Stromboli but what’s the fun in that). I figured there would be plenty of lasagna (vegetable and regular, check) and while my family always loves mine, (featured in Whatever Happened to Dinner?) I wanted to make a dish I enjoyed when my youngest daughter lived at home and made it for a couple years after college, Chicken Alfredo. She always used a jar of prepared Alfredo sauce which is yummy but I wanted to make my own. Kind of.
So I checked three sources: Fix It and Forget It Big Cookbook; an unidentified print out (which I probably got online at some point) called Chicken and Broccoli Alfredo; and one of those “Great American Recipe” gorgeous huge recipe cards for “Creamy Fettuccine Alfredo” they send you free in the mail trying to get you to subscribe for more cards. That one called for 2 sticks butter, 2 cups whipping cream and 2 cups grated Parmesan cheese, and 1 lb. box of fettuccine. It weighed in at a whopping 1,467 calories per serving (the recipe said it would serve 4). ‘Nuff said. More on that later.*
The Fix It and Forget It recipe called for a 16 oz. jar of Alfredo sauce, 4-6 boneless chicken breast pieces, 8 oz. fettuccine noodles (or other), 4 oz. can of mushroom pieces and stems, and 1 cup shredded mozzarella or ½ cup grated Parmesan. In a slow cooker. I nixed that one since I didn’t have the Alfredo sauce.
The unidentified source called for a cup of fresh or frozen broccoli flowerets, 1 lb. skinless boneless chicken breasts cubed, ½ c. milk, 1 can of cream of condensed mushroom soup, ½ cup grated Parmesan cheese, and 6 oz. fettuccine noodles. While some cooks steer clear of any condensed soups, I figured if I didn’t add any salt and I had it on hand, it couldn’t be any worse or more caloric than the jar of Alfredo sauce or 2 sticks butter PLUS whipping cream PLUS 2 cups cheese.
So …. being a make-do-mama who is inclined to use the things I have on hand and comfortable with invention, here is the combined recipe I used. At least one potluck goer pronounced it “delicious.” It seemed to warm quite a few bellies that day that started out near 0 degrees F. Note there was no garlic in any of these recipes, nor in mine. It could probably use a nice clove or two but with an otherwise highly seasoned potluck, for me it was a nice respite since garlic and spice sometimes sets me off into a headache.
Chicken Alfredo Fettuccine – Melodie Davis original
2 cups chopped chicken tender pieces
1 cup Vermont aged cheddar cheese (any white-ish cheese will do, I happened to have some on hand)
8 oz. fettuccine noodles
½ cup half and half (or milk)
½ cup grated Romano and Parmesan cheese (or just Parmesan)
8 oz. frozen broccoli pieces
1 10 oz can condensed cream of mushroom soup
2 Tb butter
1 Tb olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
Fresh chopped basil or dried, as desired
Boil noodles according to package directions; add broccoli for last 4 minutes to lightly cook.
Sauté chicken in butter and olive oil until lightly browned and cooked through. Remove from heat. Add cheeses, half and half (or milk), condensed soup. Stir lightly.
Drain water from noodles/broccoli. Add the noodles and broccoli to chicken/cheeses/soup mixture. Garnish with basil as desired.
Bake in 2 1/2 quart greased casserole dish for 30 minutes at 350 degrees or until heated through. Serves about 8.
You might guess I’m a little pleased with my concoction, but not so proud of the pictures I didn’t get (potluck not a great environment for getting great pictures of servings), but here’s a photo of my plate when I enjoyed leftovers that night at home.
It’s real food, not faked up by a food artist.
*It’s also quite high in calories, do I need to mention? You’ll only want about a one cup serving of this baby to not wreck your diet, weighing in at about 371 calories per one cup serving.
Yeah, that’s not so bad, unless you eat the whole 4 cup serving of a typical, generous restaurant dish. Just saying.
This is about a one cup serving.
And in case you wonder, like I did, what “Alfredo” refers to, (I wondered if it was Italian for “with cheese” or something), it apparently was just named for a chef who made it for his pregnant wife. It was subsequently Americanized with the “unnecessary addition of heavy cream” according to the above website.
So there you go. Now we know why the dish is crammed with milk and cheese and so high in calories.
***
What’s your favorite winter comfort food?
Do you stick to recipes or combine and invent as you go?
I’d love to share a recipe you’ve concocted, if it was successful! Make the dish, send the recipe and a photo, and allow me to post it as guest post here, and I’ll send you a FREE copy of Whatever Happened to Dinner? Contact me by email if you have a recipe to share. melodiemillerdavis at gmail dot com
Stay tuned next weekend when I hope to bring you another great winter comfort food: our traditional basic chili soup.
Do you have very many photos of your kids doing real work? Not just photo ops?
In the basement near our wood stove, I keep a pair of gloves that reminds me every day (during the winter) of how our children grew up knowing that work—real work—not just the photo op kind, was expected of them. (I know, and here is where I tell you how they had to walk to school every day two miles over snow, barefoot.)
These 0 degree days are the kind of times that bring out old codger stories like that.
(Pausing while helping cut wood; they usually enjoyed our excursions to the woods for this chore.)
I’m not an old codger, (am I?) but I do think that expecting our kids to help cut firewood (well, of course they only did the carrying and stacking of wood part, but they know how to hold a limb so my husband can quickly make kindling out of it), help rewire the house one summer, work in the garden, can and freeze vegetables, and wash dishes and clean sinks has helped them know you don’t get through life without lifting a finger. You know?
I just don’t have a lot of pictures to prove it. What you see in this blog post is pretty much the extent of “work” pictures. (I think most of us don’t have “work” pictures, especially of ourselves, because these are not generally moments we grab the camera or phone to make a selfie. Like this one I took of how I was dressed yesterday morning to tend the fire when we were 1 degree below zero.)
Other bloggers (Hannah Heinzekehr at The Femonite, for one) have talked about this not unusual phenomena of only picturing the happy fun and entertaining parts of our lives.
One year our daughters each got their own pair of real work gloves—like daddy’s—particularly for helping with the unending chore of carrying in wood.
They were to write their names on their gloves.
What’s amazing to me is that this particular pair survived the fate of most gloves around our house: separation until a pair is deemed irreparably separated for ever and lost. This pair, at least 15 years old, fits my hands quite nicely so I try to hang on to them.
They help me be thankful for having our kids grow up knowing how to work, and being very diligent about applying themselves today to whatever their tasks.
Washing the car, for real.
“Make it your goal to live a quiet life, minding your own business and working with your hands, just as we instructed you before. Then people … will respect the way you live.” 1 Thessalonians 4:11-12
Do you have pictures of your kids working?
I’ve been blogging a little over a year. Ring the bell.
Finding Harmony was launched January 1, 2013. I remember the giddiness I felt when I pushed “publish” for the first time—like I somehow was more in control of my own destiny instead of a distant editor or publisher or company. I could be as brash or as personal as I wanted to be, no one editing over my shoulder. (Wherein of course lies the danger in personal blogs—no one editing.)
I’ve discovered I enjoy it more than I thought I would, like a hobby, instead of knitting or just reading in my free time. It is a new world. I’ve made new cyber friends, received at least one phone call out of the blue from a reader (who it turns out works at the same place as my second cousin, who I only knew in childhood), and am learning the importance of connecting with other bloggers to make even more connections.
One of the things I’ve enjoyed the most are looking at the stats or statistics, which can stroke the ego or dash one into despair, if you take them too seriously. Occasionally there is a wild surprise, and you hit 10 times your average views in a day, and you never know when one of those days will hit. My top post of the year, not such a surprise and not good news, was one about the suicide of Rick Warren’s son (it was picked up by Mennonite World Review). On a happier note, the ones about the births of my first two grandsons (here and here) were of course popular. The biggest “high hit” surprise for me was a recipe for homemade sugar cookies that mentioned my Mennonite/Amish connections as well as Presbyterian.
Occasionally a stat takes you to another world … to the other side of the world, to be exact. One day, three hits from Northern Mariana Islands showed up, as one of the countries from where someone had viewed/read my blog. What? I’d never even heard of that as a country. A quick look at Wikipedia fills me in as it being a group of islands in the Pacific, where over 90 percent live on the island of Saipan, where my father-in-law served in World War II. A personal connection.
In all visitors from something like 89 countries have dropped by. Most of those visitors probably bounced quickly elsewhere.
The stats climbed steadily and nicely throughout the year, helped of course by my two blog devotional series, one for Lent and one for Advent. Hmm, do I go for another Lent series? Can I keep them original and fresh?
It is also fascinating to see what people use for search terms and end up at my blog. Two posts last winter have brought frequent visitors all year: one was about soaking up the gorgeous and unusual flowers at the U.S. Botanic Gardens (I used the words “endangered plants,” which brought numerous seekers during the year). Another post on a sad farewell to our dear dog, (for whom we fretted many weeks about “how to know when to put a pet down”) turns out to be a frequent question of many other web surfers. It was sad but reassuring to feel that camaraderie.
The top search terms at my blog were:
- Endangered plants (link above)
- Amish homemade noodles (and numerous variations of that, about which I wrote 3 times)
- Stayman apple pie recipe (and variations)
Some search terms I love that were used often enough to show up in year long summary of frequently used terms:
- Why do my homemade noodles fall apart
- Mennonite New Years Cookies (I never wrote on this)
- I am the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valley Mennonite (don’t ask, I have no idea!)
Regarding content, this blog is a mix of family stories, devotional reflections, family type recipes, occasional book reviews, exploration of faith roots (Mennonite, Presbyterian), and, occasionally, tips and inside stories for other writers (from my perspective as an editor myself).
Overall, I’ve found that here, recipes tend to bring the most hits. From my own experience reading other blogs, I feel that blogs that give us useful information (or just help us know there’s another soul out there going through the same thing) are what many of us look for.
So what do you like at Finding Harmony Blog? Take a second to check my simple poll. Or not. I may or may not do more of whatever people like, or I may get rid of things people don’t like.
***
Thanks for following along, whenever and however you do. Subscribing (free) is one of the best ways to keep in touch. Or shoot me an email or leave a comment.
A rare personal appearance on this blog: my husband and me at a summer wedding.
Thanks, Stuart, for supporting me as I share of our lives in this way.
Confession. We are not big seafood eaters. But during the winter, when my husband gets to hankering for salmon cakes like his mother used to make, I usually pick up a can of pink salmon and feel noble for getting some of my omega-3s. (He also hankers big time for “salt fish” but that is a big production and another blog post. Sometime.)
Salmon cakes are as easy as meatloaf and in my mind a similar go to food for a busy night. I usually just kind of throw them together using cracker crumbs (saltines), an egg, a little milk, and some seasoning, then roll them in cracker crumbs and sauté lightly in some olive oil.
The other week I looked up a REAL recipe though which looked good—and it was excellent, for me! My husband said he kind of preferred the old way I made them which tasted more like his mother’s (who died before I ever met him, so I can’t ask her), but he thought these were fine too. (And it might be interesting to note that while I reject the notion of chopped celery and onion in my meatloaf, I like the added texture and flavor it gave the salmon cakes, which may be why Stuart didn’t favor these as much.)
When I asked MY mother recently if she ever made salmon cakes, she said no (not a big surprise, because I certainly don’t remember them from my childhood) but she added that her mother used canned salmon a lot and my mother got tired of it. Mom said she didn’t know if it was because it was relatively cheap and easy; she recalls a salmon soup her mother made which she did not like at all. I’m my mother’s daughter and that doesn’t sound good to me either.
Truth be told, I think my reaction to salmon is the fact that opening a can of salmon gets the cats running to beg, which makes me think of canned cat food, which isn’t exactly appetizing.
But, getting over the odor, these are good, adapted from The Essential EatingWell Cookbook (2004) (recipe online at: http://www.eatingwell.com/recipes/easy_salmon_cakes.html).
Easy Salmon Cakes (my adaptation)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 stalk celery, finely diced
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
15 ounces canned salmon, drained, or 1 1/2 cups cooked salmon
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 1/2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 3/4 cups fresh whole-wheat breadcrumbs, (see Tip)
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
Preparation
Open salmon can, drain; put salmon in a medium bowl. Flake apart with a fork; remove any bones and skin. Add egg and mustard; mix well. Add the remaining ingredients; mix well. Shape the mixture into 8 patties, about 2 1/2 inches wide.
Heat oil in the pan over medium heat. Add patties and cook until the undersides are golden, 3-4 minutes. Turn, sauté on other side; lower heat and cook total of 15 minutes to thoroughly heat through.
(Alternate: The recipe I consulted had you cook the onion and celery before adding it to the salmon; I did not do that, and it turned out fine. Here are the original instructions for that:
Heat 1 1/2 teaspoons oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion and celery; cook, stirring, until softened, about 3 minutes. Stir in parsley; remove from the heat.)
Make Ahead Tip: Cover and refrigerate for up to 8 hours before sauteing/heating.
Nutrition (from Eating Well website): Per serving: 324 calories; 10 g fat ( 1 g sat , 3 g mono ); 129 mg cholesterol; 21 g carbohydrates; 31 g protein; 7 g fiber; 585 mg sodium; 97 mg potassium. Nutrition Bonus: 27% dv fiber, 171 mg calcium (15% dv).
***
Charlotte, over at Mennonite Girls Can Cook, has a similar recipe. If I had found this first I would have tried it, who encourages using whatever you have on hand (mashed potatoes, stuffing) for filler/glue to hold them together.) You can buy either of their lovely cookbooks here.
***
Is there a dish you make just because someone in your household loves it, or that his or her mother made?
“I feel bad taking this without paying for it,” said a young trucker accepting a cup of coffee and donut from the Lions Club “New Year’s Day Safety Rest Stop” along Interstate 81 near New Market, Va.
We assured him he didn’t need to feel badly, the goodies were all donated, and that Lions Clubs provide the service to keep drivers alert and spread cheer and good will on New Year’s Day–without accepting donations. We personally also enjoy chatting with folks, hearing where they’re traveling, trading travel war stories. One man was headed for 17 below zero weather in Toronto and was enjoying the warmish Virginia sunshine that day. Another woman had started out in Florida and was glad to have only 3 hours to finish her long trip.
Daily News Record reporter and photographer join us waiting for “customers.”
Indeed it has always been one of my husband’s favorite Lions activities. One of his oft-told stories is about a couple who just couldn’t accept the food and drink until he told them he would just have to throw it away, so they might as well drink it. The couple just could not get that anyone would do this, free of charge.
Channel 3 interviewing Tim Land, 85
This year we had no more started our two hour shift when up popped not one but TWO media outlets trolling for a New Year’s Day “good news” story. We had not called or notified them. First a reporter and photographer from the Daily News Record in Harrisonburg showed up and posted this feel good story with only a few mistakes such as I DID NOT say I did it most every year; my husband usually does. (You can’t read the whole story online unless you are a subscriber but you can see their photos and captions in the link above.) Minutes later a reporter from local channel TV 3 hit our same spot and did an interview with a former “District Governor” from our club, Tim Land (above), but I’m not sure it ever made anyone’s telecast. I found this brief blurb on their website, here. Slow news day: any day free donuts make the paper, it is a good thing!
But I had to ponder why many people are so reluctant to accept something free? Perhaps it stems from the old fashioned term of not wanting to be “beholden”—or indebted to anyone. Related perhaps, is that people sometimes feel good when they step up and buy something being peddled by an organization—that they’re helping someone out. So when it turns out that they can’t help out afterall, and that the tables are turned and the Lions in this case are helping them out, they feel cheated, like the “good deed” has been jerked out from under them.
Most are fine with the free goods after learning why we’re doing it and happily enjoy the coffee, milk, soft drinks or donuts. Quite a few though skip the freebie: after all, they’ve just STOPPED for a potty break, right, and don’t want to stop again an hour down the road. I get that! Plus it is New Year’s Day, day of resolution not to indulge in things like random donuts.
My husband usually tells people they can just support the activities of their local Lions Club if they want to “pay back.” One young man from Louisiana said he didn’t think there were any clubs in his community and where would he find one to support? He was clearly trying to figure out how to pay back, so we just said he could pay it forward and do something kind for someone else. That seemed to help him. One head of a household, originally from Egypt said he was intrigued to run into this Lions Club as he had been a member in Egypt—(clubs are found in 208 countries or geographic areas). That felt like a wonderful connection.
Most of us do have trouble accepting what we call “charity,” or being grateful receivers. Like the free clothes closet my church operates, where the founding pastor (now pastor emeritus), Don Allen likes to remind us ,that the free items we give out there are a profound reminder of God’s grace so freely given. The clothes closet, and the coffee stop are two places you don’t need any money to partake.
A powerful reminder on the first day of a new year. As Matthew 10:8 says “Freely you have received, freely give.”
Have you ever tried to give something away that someone else had trouble receiving?
***
I also enjoyed a different kind of experience earlier this year when we were collecting donations for the Lions Clubs’ many projects helping those with sight and hearing difficulties. Read about my impressions of that day here.
A Time of Going
“Have your children all left now?” people asked knowingly at church yesterday. They knew my house had been gloriously full over Christmas; the nest was emptying once again.
Many empty-nesters are saying so long to adult children and grandchildren going back to wherever.
We can be sad (and it IS SAD and hard and depressing) or we can welcome a return to routine. We can be glad if they have their own homes and lives, and indeed jobs that wed them to places other than where they grew up. I am glad that our children don’t live on the other side of the continent or the globe, but many many parents and families bear those separations as well. We can be glad for the age of the Internet and cell phones and smart phones and almost instant communication rather than the days of pony express and long train or stagecoach rides or steamship rides across oceans. For real.
You know these things as well as I so this post is merely to mark that passage and keep it tender in our hearts. It is not a time I like to take pictures, of red eyes and teared up faces. So I share just a few photos from our Christmas.
Top to bottom: cutting Christmas tree from nearby farm; Grandpa putting together a new train set for grandkids or himself?; Great Grandma Miller with new babes in arms; four generations; sister (who used to be called “Sam” holding Sam; Pert and Kathy’s night to cook, Grandma having fun; aunt Doreen, Jon and Sam; Grandpa Davis reads traditional “Twas the Night Before Christmas;” new Christmas stockings!; Tanya, Jon, Sam and Great Grandma; Michelle, Doreen and James; Hottinger family Christmas dinner.
If there is a time to greet, there is also a time to say farewell (not mentioned in Ecclesiastes 3, but it should of been!), so long, au revoir. This is one of those times.
Do you stand in your driveway and wave?
Do you hurry back to the house and get busy?
Do you begin doing the wash?
O Holy Night and a Pint-sized Alleluia
Every year I watch and wait expectantly for the “magical moment” when I feel the special spirit of Christmas. I hope you’ve had, or will have your special moment(s) during this season. I wrote this several years ago:
After 58 years, sometimes Christmas gets to be just so much rigmarole to get through. You know the drill. Even though I love Christmas and try to keep the true meaning in mind throughout, sometimes it gets to be just one more gift to wrap. It is too many dishes to wash, pies to bake, errands to run. When you are a child, every Christmas something new happens. As you get older, you are allowed new privileges, or you get to participate in school dramas and music concerts or dance in the Nutcracker. It’s pretty decorations and visits to Santa and then finding out Santa’s your dad and still trying to play the game for your younger siblings or cousins. It is exciting trips to see Grandpa and new toys and staying up late and eating cookies all day long. But how to keep the magic of Christmas alive when you think you’ve heard and seen it all?
Great niece Jade, at Christmas, several years ago.
A couple years ago my special Christmas moment didn’t come until New Year’s night, of all times. That was when my husband and I celebrated Christmas with my Indiana relatives: Mom, sister, husband, nephews, niece, great nephews and nieces and a few step-this or that thrown in.
After our evening supper of “pick up” food and snacks, I was trying to keep a couple of kids occupied so they wouldn’t get bored in the rather subdued and QUIET atmosphere of the 55-and-up retirement complex where my mother lives. So I took the smaller kids out to the lobby fireplace where fake logs flickered invitingly and the Christmas décor was standard (but gorgeous) retirement home fare. The children were: a great niece just-turned-three; a great nephew, four; and a great step-niece, five.
We took turns telling stories: they could be made up, true or a combination of both. The rule was you just had to tell whether your story was true or not. (The two younger ones had a hard time figuring out the difference between true and make-believe, not surprisingly, but that’s another blog post.) Sometimes we added to each other’s stories. I wracked my brain to come up with exciting memories from my own childhood to embellish my stories and they seemed to love them. I was on a roll.
Then I said, “Shall we tell the Christmas story?” I wasn’t really testing them, or trying to figure out how much they knew, or how/if they were being taught Bible stories. I was just a desperate aunt trying to keep the entertainment ball rolling.
The just-turned-three year old started out the “progressive story telling” in fine form and announced, “Jesus was born!” My jaw dropped a little, partly because to me she was still a babe-in-arms, barely talking. I was thrilled to have her boil down the Christmas story so succinctly. I replied enthusiastically, “That’s right!”
Then her five-year-old cousin added, “To save us.” Again I could only affirm the direction the conversation was going, and let it flow. Kristin added, “And he died on the cross.” Right again. I think I added something appropriately affirming and theological, but the kids had preached their own sermon. They had boiled down the essence of Christmas and Easter and left my head spinning and my heart rejoicing. I knew that I finally had my special Christmas moment for the year, on New Year’s night, no less.
I was pleased that these children were apparently getting the Bible stories. Their parents, like so many young adults in our culture, had come through years of not much church attendance. But now they were going to church and apparently the kids were being taught enough of the Bible stories to get Christmas oh so right. On that holy night in late December, the last night of the year, a pint-sized alleluia sang around my heart. They had ministered to me in my Christmas weary fatigue. Thank you Jade, Zachary and Kristin.
What was your special moment this year? Or are you still waiting and watching for it?
The 12 days of Christmas have only just begun …
P.S. I’ve taken a bit of a blog break due to the holidays and wonderful visits with family, but plan to resume posting several times a week next week.
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