A Chance to be Profound

The storefront glittered and gleamed with holiday lights, artificial snowflakes, and glittering figures.  The four of us looked at each other; eyes big . . "Okay, just remember . . . no touching," we reminded the kids.  "Now let's go have fun!"

As we entered the Christmas shop, we were overwhelmed with the sights, sounds, and even smells of Christmas.  I was initially drawn to the Fontanini nativity figures.  My son, however, beckoned for us all to "Come here!"  He was enamored with a newest Christmas village (or so it seemed to us), the neighborhood from "A Christmas Story."  Yep, there was Ralphie in his pink bunny suit, there was the house bedecked with Christmas lights, the Chinese restaurant, Scut Farkus & his toadie, all of it.  Well, not all of it.  We longed for the school and the flagpole.  I'm sure that will be along soon.  Such fun we all had looking at all the vignettes. 

Soon we moved on . . .

There were Christmas villages and ornaments in every hue and genre and nightlights and nutcrackers and candles and flags and music boxes and table clothes and advent calendars and tree skirts and cookie jars and perfume bottles and anything else you can imagine.  Chocolates?  Yes, even chocolates. 

We had such fun picking things out for here and for there.  It's not every day I find a glittery tree ornament in the perfect shade of lavender for my powder room!

I had spied a few things the kids should have -- from Santa Claus, of course, so my husband,  ever-the-helpful elf, ushered the kids outside while I paid for our picks along with a few more things "Santa" picked out.  As the shopkeeper rang up my order, he picked up two things and asked, "Are these for your children?"

"Yes," I said, "they are."

He put them on the table next to him without ringing them.  "Free," he said.  "I've never had such nice children in my store.  Consider these my gifts to them."

How very kind and unexpected.  I thanked him and hurried out to the kids, eager to share the kindness with them.  They were so excited to receive their surprise hologram-Christmas glasses (I'll have to get a picture.).  Imagine how cute they looked sporting their new 3-D glasses as they re-entered the store and thanked the shopkeeper.  Such a sweet and proud moment for me as well as them.

Simple kindness profoundly affects a wanting heart.

It has been a long road with my daughter.  Most days bring struggle, sometimes smiles are scarce; sometimes my heart struggles to see progress.  This kindness from the shopkeeper was the nod of encouragement my husband and I so desperately needed on that day, at that moment.

This holiday season, I have no advice on dressing your mantle or sprucing up your tree.  But I do implore you:  Show a kindness when the spirit moves you.  Do not let that moment pass.  Don't let that person leave without the thing they may so deeply need.  We so often have no idea the weight of our actions . . . good and bad, expressed and still.  Be kind.  Be gentle.  Do that thing that crosses your mind.

Simple kindness feels profound in trying days.

My heartfelt thanks to Demory's Christmas Memories.  

 

 

Happy Thanksgiving

 Our view, Thanksgiving morning, 2008, NYC, USA

Blessings abound,

Today and always,

Happy Thanksgiving. 

Free Pie

If the budget is tight, this pie is practically free to make as it calls for nothing you don't already have.  It isn't much in the looks department, but tastes wonderful . . . this is one of those old-fashioned recipes fashioned by capable, creative women who knew what hard times were and how to make something out of nothing.  Bless them all. 

Cinnamon Pie

1 cup white sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 pinch salt
1 egg, beaten
2 tablespoons butter, melted
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups milk
1 (10 inch) unbaked pie crust


Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (205 degrees C).

In a large bowl, combine the sugar, flour, cinnamon and salt. Add the beaten egg, butter, and vanilla.

Mix well and add the milk.

Pour mixture into an unbaked 10 inch pie crust (glass pie plate is best).

Bake at 400 degrees for 15 minutes, then reduce heat to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) and bake for an additional 45 minutes. Let cool and serve. Refrigerate any leftovers.

My Cranberry Recipe

This is a delicious condiment full of chunky apples, zesty ginger, chewy raisins, and, of course, tart cranberries. Wonderful served on either hot or cold turkey."

Spicy Cranberry Chutney

 1/3 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup raisins
1 cup water
3 cups fresh cranberries (1 bag)
1 Granny Smith apple - peeled, cored and chopped
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup chopped crystallized ginger
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

In a saucepan, combine brown sugar, raisins and water; bring to a boil. Reduce heat to simmer and stir while simmering for 5 minutes. Stir in cranberries, apple and lemon zest; simmer for 10 minutes more.

Stir lemon juice, ginger and pepper flakes into the mixture before removing from heat. Serve chilled or at room temperature.

 

Music

Music celebrates,
Music grieves.

A Joyful Noise

About the Artist

Music incites,
Music relieves.

Music quells,
Music achieves.

 

 

Music confesses,
Music deceives.

Gracious gratitude for all, through music, one receives.

Pink Saturday -- A Thanksgiving Poem

T’was the night of Thanksgiving,
But I just couldn’t sleep.
I tried counting backwards,
I tried counting sheep.

The leftovers beckoned,
The dark meat and white.
But I fought the temptation,
With all of my might.

Tossing and turning,
with anticipation.
The thought of a snack
became infatuation.

 

So I raced to the kitchen,
Flung open the door,
And gazed at the fridge,
Full of goodies galore.

I gobbled up turkey,
And buttered potatoes,
Pickles and carrots,
Beans and tomatoes.

I felt myself swelling,
So plump and so round.
‘til all of a sudden,
I rose off the ground.

I crashed through the ceiling,
Floating into the sky,
With a mouthful of pudding,
And a handful of pie.

But I managed to yell
As I soared past the trees
Happy eating to all,
Pass the cranberries, please!!

May your stuffing be tasty
May your turkey be plump.
May your potatoes and gravy
Have nary a lump.

May your yams be delicious,
May your pies take the prize
And May your Thanksgiving dinner
Stay off of your thighs!

by Lauren

Big thanks, of course, to Beverly at How Sweet the Sound for hosting this fun tradition -- can't imagine how much work this must be.  

Participating in Pink Saturday is such a great way to find more blogs to enjoy.  This week, I recommend stopping by Ginger's blog, Glitter and Roses, just lovely. 

Legacy

What's in a name?  Sares is exploring that very question in her blog, LoveLeigh Treasures and others.  She is hosting a most interesting "blog party today.  Stop by, the story of her nickname is charming and I can relate as I have a nickname only my grandfather calls me, but I choose not to discuss it today because I could never, ever figure out how it is spelled . . . it is heavy with Polish sounds and entanglements . . . bit I do love it so. 

What's in a name?  I have long hoped that spirit and power can be in a name.  That is what inspired us to name our daughter, Sarah Caroline.

Sarah is a common enough name and that commonness, itself, may have put us off that name normally.  But we knew from the start that our daughter would need the power and the spirit of her new family and we tried to vest that within her by giving her this name.

Sarah was the name of my great-grandmother, a saint of a woman, feminine as the most delicate lace, but strong as a mule.  She came here, on her own, from Poland, as a teenage girl, not knowing a soul in this new world.  She set about making a life for herself . . . and she did . . . and she also created the most beautiful woman I have ever known, my grandmother who, in turn, created my mother.  How could I not link my daughter to my great grandmother's incredible legacy?

Caroline was my husband's mother, the happiest soul I was ever lucky enough to know.  I only knew her for a short time, for she died rather abruptly before my husband and I were married.  I grieved as if she were my own mother because she had been such a spiritual mother to me.  I miss her laughing spirit each and every day, but am grateful for the time I did know her and especially for the man she raised, the man who is now my husband and the best father I could have ever dreamed of for my children.  We made "Caroline" my daughter's middle name for we wanted to link my daughter with her grandmother forevermore despite Sarah never having spoken with her.

So my daughter carries with her the name of her brave, immigrant great-great grandmother who came to this country from her eastern European country in search of a better life.  Despite being separated by several generations, they share that bond.  My daughter, too, came here from an eastern European country when we adopted her and brought her home to be part of our family.  She, too, comes to the new world in search of a better life.

And we paired her first name with a middle name of a woman whom she should have met, had fate not been quite so cruel.  With this middle name, our daughter will be ever mindful of the wonderful woman who would have been her "grandma." 

My daughter is six years old now, but oh so old and oh so young for the time she spent as an orphan.  I pray that she has the power and the spirit to continue in the legacy of strength and love for which she has been named.