back to 1976...

We took our granddaughter today to see the movie Wonder, based on the book written by Raquel Palacio. I have been trying to get her to read the book since May and she only recently bought it and read it. It is now November, almost Thanksgiving. It is a must see movie. Especially for young preteens and teenagers. Middle school age especially.  I wanted her to see it because it deals with so many issues that kids that age have to deal with. However, it's the kind of movie that has something for everyone. In my opinion, If you can't find an issue dealt with in the story then all I can say is you live a perfect life (whatever that is) or you are just sweeping your stuff under the rug. Close to the end of the movie the older sister that was dealing with her own set of problems in the family, kinda fell into the part of Emily Webb (without giving too much away). Emily is a character in the play, Our Town, a play that her school was performing. As she recited the monologue I remembered when I was a little girl and my mother and her high school students performed this play. As a side note, the play was written the year I was born. Oh well,  I guess it had an impact on me even at that young of an age because in 1976 I recited the same monologue in my drama class in the community college nearby where I was attending. During the movie as she recited it, I was immediately transported back. I remembered how nervous I was. I also remembered the emotion I felt while I was reciting it. I could feel her pain too. I relived it all. I must have done a pretty good job because my teacher asked me to recite it again in front of the whole student body during a drama expo. That was 41 years ago.  Who was that 19 year old girl? Not sure I remember. One thing I do know though is I am so thankful for how far I have come.

monologue by Emily Webb from the play Our Town written by Thornton Wilder, 1957
Emily died in child birth and was given a chance to go back home to a time she remembered.

I can't bear it. They're so young and beautiful. Why did they ever have to get old? Mama, I'm here. I'm grown up. I love you all, everything. I can't look at everything hard enough. Oh, Mama, just look at me one minute as though you really saw me. Mama, fourteen years have gone by. I'm dead. You're a grandmother, Mama. I married George Gibbs, Mama. Wally's dead too. Mama, his appendix burst on a camping trip to North Conway. We felt just terrible about it - don't you remember? But, just for a moment now we're all together. Mama, just for a moment we're happy. Let's look at one another. I can't. I can't go on. It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another. I didn't realize. All that was going on in life and we never noticed. Take me back - up the hill - to my grave. Good-bye, Grover's Corners. Mama and Papa. Good-bye to clocks ticking. and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths. And sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? Every, every minute? I'm ready to go back. I should have listened to you. That's all human beings are Just blind people.

Thank you Father for opening my eyes and heart to see you!  For healing me of all the pain. (I don't have to go back, ever, ever again)  I hope and pray that I can live the rest of my life with my "eyes wide open." ♡

sammie jean

it might be tradition... but it never gets old

 I love this time of year. It's my favorite. There is a special feeling in the air. Everything looks so pretty. Houses all lit up, everyone dressed all festive in red, even deer antlers mounted to vehicles. Everyone seems to be a little nicer. We even seem to have a little more patience with each other. A little more generous too. We want every little child to have something for Christmas. Even grumpy people that wouldn't think about giving one extra penny to their neighbor just can't seem to pass by the Salvation Army bucket at the local store. I love the nativity scene out on the lawn at church, the wreaths with there big bows on the door, singing Joy to the World, and a sermon about Joseph, Mary, and Jesus. It doesn't matter how many times I have heard it... It never gets old. None of it gets old. I grew up in a home where Christmas was a big deal. I remember us going out in the woods when I was young to hunt for the perfect tree. Daddy, Mama, sister, I and even the hunting dogs trudged through the thick woods. Came back home and decorated it. Mama put our gifts under the tree on Christmas Eve. She placed everything neatly in its perfect place. My sister had a side and I had a side. Nothing was wrapped because she always said, "Santa doesn't wrap his gifts." I wish that I could remember my favorite toy. I know it had to have been a bicycle or a doll that I dressed and undressed over and over again.  My sister and I slept in the same bed for way more years than we want to admit, even though we had our own rooms. But Christmas Eve was special. I had to read Twas the Night Before Christmas before going to bed.  I remember lying there and talking to my sister. She would try to get me to hush and go to sleep. "You know Santa won't come if you're still awake," she would say. But, as the story goes, "sugar plums danced in my head" along with thoughts of what was under the tree. I swore that  I could hear Santa and the reindeer on our roof. Couldn't go to sleep save my life. When we were older we realized that it wasn't Santa at all. It was mama busy at work opening bags, closet doors, pulling out the hidden stash from every corner and crevice of the house.  Mama hung stockings over the fireplace too. When we were really young she filled our stockings with fruit and candy because that is what her and daddy got in their stockings. I remember my sister and I asking her one Christmas to not put fruit and candy in our stockings. You know she never put another apple in our stocking again. She didn't even tell us how rotten we were. But, she didn't have to...we were. The truth is mama and daddy were happy for their candy canes and oranges. I often heard them say, especially my daddy that that was all he got for Christmas. I would love to tell my daddy, if I could, "thank you" for the fruit and the other neat stuff in our stockings. You and mama made Christmas extra special.  As long as my granny and poppy were living and after we were finished with Santa we went to their house for Christmas dinner. All of daddy's family was there. My granny and poppy bought everyone a gift. I know that must have been difficult for them on their meager salary. Even after all of us grandchildren got married, my granny continued to buy us something for Christmas. I remember one of the last gifts I got from her was a punch bowl set. I still cherish it today. I carried much of the same traditions with me into my own home with my own children. Looking for the perfect Christmas tree at a tree farm. Until it became such a mess to deal with. We resorted to a store bought one. It didn't smell like Christmas, but it worked.  Just like mama, I filled the stockings with special treats and I carefully laid the gifts out never wrapping them; one side for my daughter and one side for my son. Never wrapping them, until they talked me into opening one gift on Christmas Eve, of which we always did in our new flannel Christmas pj's. I loved teaching especially during Christmas. Our classroom tree was full of handmade ornaments; glitter galore.  Making from scratch sugar cookies was my favorite thing to do. I rolled the dough out and they cut stars, angels, Christmas trees, holly and decorated them with red, green, white icing with sprinkles on top. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever was a must read. It got us in the Spirit of Christmas every year as we experienced the joy and excitement of little Gladys as she heard about the birth of baby Jesus for the very first time. When my grandchildren came along we continued the stocking and pajama tradition. We also continued the tradition of daddy taking everyone shopping. He always took mama, my sister and I shopping and after the grandchildren came along he took them by himself each year.  Because daddy grew up not having very much, he loved lavishing on the grand kids. He pretty much let them fill the buggy with what they wanted. One year my young son got lost in the store. When I heard about it I was terrified.  He was a good bit younger than the girls. I'm sure they just went on with their shopping never paying him any mind. And daddy... well let me just say he was being "daddy".  He was in his element. He was Santa Claus. We continued most traditions with our grandchildren adding a few new ones. Watching the movie, Polar Express together every year was one of them. Of course, we had to have hot chocolate to go with it. I can just see them now. My grand kids are dramatic, so they act out their favorite scenes of the movies they watch. Well this one is no exception. When the waiters start handing out the hot chocolate and dancing in the aisle of the train my grands would jump up and start dancing and singing too; "hot, hot chocolate" they would sing as they danced. This year we are going to move this tradition to our new home in the woods with an outdoor movie. Can't wait. Should be fun! Since my grand boys have gotten older and outgrown all the fun stuff my granddaughter and I make Christmas ornaments. Last year we made pine cone ornaments and this year we made crystal ornaments. Yes, I love Christmas. I love everything about it. I will do all the traditional things; sing Christmas songs,  bake special goodies,  decorate a tree,  buy gifts for my family. Maybe even buy gifts for my neighbors, for children in Africa and children down the street. But... it will never be "just routine." It never gets old.  I will make no excuses for my traditions. And my "over the top" excitement. Jesus is the reason for the season. He is worthy of my celebration. So....let's celebrate.

sammie jean

 He is my Savior.

Light of the World.