One of my favorite stories gets pulled out every year when I once again set up our Christmas crèche. Inside the box is stored this story:

When Ken and I were first married, we bought a complete crèche scene and painstakingly painted and antiqued every piece. We still have all the pieces, minus one chip out of the donkey’s ear, knocked off the shelf by the family cat. We never did find that missing ear and finally decided that the crèche was just perfect without it!

As our children grew, however, the crèche took on “other” meanings during the Christmas season. Our kids had a lot of fun changing the scene. One year the shepherds and wise men formed a rock band, complete with little guitars and drums. Another year, Sylvester the Cat would show up in the scene. Or various animals would roam the stage. Or the smurfs. Or whatever action figures happened to be in vogue at the time. Our kids recreated life, mostly in fun.

But one year, as we were waiting to have our Christmas eve dinner, we got a phone call from our middle son. He had pulled out into oncoming traffic, driving my car, and been hit by a car he hadn’t seen coming. He and his girlfriend were fine, but shaken up, and we interrupted our planned events to go and sort things out.

When we returned home, the crèche had mysteriously morphed into a new scene, complete with a wrecked toy car with shepherds and wise men all looking on with concern. Joseph was on the phone, Mary was sitting at the dinner table waiting for the family. And above it all, the angel hovered, having done her job, keeping everyone safe.

Today the crèche sits, undisturbed by the hands of children, awaiting the next generation’s take on the meaning of Christmas. And, after a half hour search in my completely disorganized photo storage system, I found the picture! If you look closely, you can even see the missing donkey ear.

Addendum:
My grandson, Caleb, when he was 2-1/2, added to our story.  He and I set up my Playmobile creche scene. It has a cardboard backing with a stable and door. We set up the camel, the wise men, Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus, the angel. I was waiting for Caleb to begin acting out the story of Christmas. Caleb picked up a shepherd and resolutely walked him over to the stable door. "TRICK OR TREAT!" he yelled!

Guess we've got a little way to go til he gets the story down!

(Photo by mharrsch, shared via Flickr)




PS: Last  year, thanks to my crazy husband, the creche was visited by a Queen, a Rook and a Pawn, in celebration of then 6-year-old grandson Gavin's new interest in the game of chess!   Send me your creche stories!

Final Approach

On Thanksgiving Day my cousin, Susan, went into the bathroom and never came out.  She was in perfect health, age 57, a vibrant woman with a meaningful career and many family relationships that needed some tending.  She died of a massive heart attack and was discovered by her family members.  In October, I lost a dear friend to a sudden brain aneurysm.  It has been a hard couple of months.  Susan's husband wrote an amazing tribute to her for her memorial service, and I would like to quote it in its entirety here.  To see the post in its original setting, click here.

I can't stop thinking about this poignant reminder that life is short and precious.  May we all keep short accounts and be constantly aware that all of life is terminal.  Here is Mike's eulogy:

I'm currently writing a book called, We Will Be Landing Shortly, with the subtitle, Reflections on Being Terminal. The title is a phrase I’ve heard on every flight I’ve ever taken for almost forty years—and it’s always bothered me.

Whenever the flight attendant chants this mantra, I want to stand up and shout, “I don’t want to land SHORTLY! I want to make it all the way to the runway!” But this would only get me arrested by the sky marshal.

Back in the last century, I was a frequent flier. I used my trips as occasions to do a quick life-check. I would ask myself as the plane readied for takeoff if I was ready to go in the ultimate sense of the phrase. If things came to mind that needed attention, I wrote them down and purposed to address them as soon as possible. It proved a healthy discipline.

Susie’s death on Thanksgiving Day is a solemn reminder that we all are on “final approach.” Some of us will have time to get our seat backs and tray tables in the upright and locked position. Others will crash with little warning and no time to prepare. The one invariable is that every one of us will be landing shortly.
Susan was ready because of how she lived her life every day, in public and in private. I just wasn’t ready to say goodbye so soon. Her legacy is her family and the thousands of people she blessed over the years.She always had open arms, a listening ear, a non-judgmental heart, an accepting nature, an inviting smile, a steadfast faith, and treats for her grandkids.

Susan wasn’t perfect. She never got the hang of gossip; didn’t know how to carry a grudge; couldn’t keep her checkbook closed when it came to others, would accept just about anybody as a friend, and routinely welcomed strangers into our home for months at a time.

I know where Susan is and I’m happy for her and at peace. I expect to join her some day. Maybe then she can explain to me what in the world God was thinking when he left me without adult supervision … and why he let her cut in line in front of me.

Susie, you can never be replaced, and you will never be forgotten. I love you deeply; always have, always will.

Time to write....

I have neglected my writing self for several months but now it is time to get going again.  On the day after Thanksgiving, my husband, brother and I decided to watch all 9 hours of The Lord of the Rings.  We weren't in the mood to go downtown for the parade (in spite of a nice break in the nasty weather) and so revived an old Bergstrom/McNichols tradition.  In the past, when the kids were young, we first watched all of the Planet of the Apes movies in one sitting.  Then I believe we did Star Wars and maybe even James Bond.  There are a lot more options now that might be worthy of a full day of viewing.

But here is a great speech from near the end of The Lord of the Rings.



"There’s some good in this world… and it’s worth fighting for."
— Sam, in The Lord of the Rings 

To receive an interesting quote every day between now and Advent, visit Busted Halo's website for a Surprise Advent Calendar.

Then the rain came....

After a very late summer and more than usual days in the 80's, we in the Northwest let out a huge sigh of relief when the temperature dips and the threat of rain returns once again. You know you truly belong in the PNW if you melt when the temperature is over 75 degrees and long for a "good rain" to clear the air. We do enjoy those great sunny days and milk them for all they're worth, but when the rain returns, we settle back into the rhythm of our lives, wondering about people who actually need to water their lawns and worry about water reserves. The pressure of "enjoying the sun while it's out" fades into the background and we are content.

The rain allows us to get back to our computers, our books, our coffee shops, and give up the search for the perfect place to spend a hot and sunny afternoon, afraid of wasting one of our few precious sunny days. Remind me to read this post in late December or January!
(Photo by C4Chaos, Flickr) 

I repost this quotation about this time every year....  Let us rejoice in the rain!

No rain falls that I do not at once hear in the sound of the falling water an invitation to come to the wedding. It is rare that I do not answer. A walk in an evening rain in any setting is to walk in the midst of God's loving attention to his earth, and, like a baptism, is no simple washing, but a communication of life. When you hurry in out of the rain, I hurry out into it, for it is a sign that all is well, that God loves, that good is to follow. If suffering a doubt, I find myself looking to rain as a good omen. And in rain, I always hear singing, wordless chant rising and falling.

When rain turns to ice and snow I declare a holiday. I could as easily resist as stay at a desk with a parade going by in the street below. I cannot hide the delight that then possesses my heart. Only God could have surprised rain with such a change of dress as ice and snow....
Most people love rain, water. Snow charms all young hearts. Only when you get older and bones begin to feel dampness, when snow becomes a traffic problem and a burden in the driveway, when wet means dirt -- then poetry takes flight and God's love play is not noted.

But I am still a child and have no desire to take on the ways of death. I shall continue to heed water's invitation, the call of the rain. We are in love and lovers are a little mad. -- Matthew Kelty, Flute Solo, Reflections of a Trappist Hermit, pp. 117-19.

Learning new tricks

Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?  This video of Bruce and Esther Huffman learning to use their webcam went viral after their granddaughter uploaded it to YouTube.  Over 2 million hits so far.  You never know what is going to "go viral" in this technological society.  Better be careful not to do or say anything you wouldn't want the world to see.  These two are really sweet!

What We Did On Our Summer Vacation....

Several of my favorite past posts have been about my Texas grandsons, Caleb and Samuel.   We had gotten used to having them nearby and somehow lived through their move to Texas.  Then we all made it through a very stressful visit at Christmas time and have had many trips to and from Texas to keep the relationships alive (it helps that they moved only 90 miles from our other Texas peep, Zella!)  This year's visit was actually so much easier than that Christmas visit -- Samuel is now 2-1/2, very verbal, and Caleb turned 5 while visiting us.  We were especially impressed by remembering that Samuel is now the age Caleb was when they moved, so we were reexperiencing the joys of life through the eyes of an excitable, enthusiastic toddler. 

We had agreed/offered to take care of these two boys for 11 days so that their mother could spend time in Italy with her husband, who was there for 4 weeks of theatre training.  Bethany stayed with us for a week and a half in advance of her trip and then had almost a week with us upon her return.  She taught us her tricks on handling the boys, which really helped!  I convinced my husband to take some time off to help with the childcare and he and I were both surprised at how much we both enjoyed the experience.  Yes, it was physically difficult and at times totally chaotic, but we also experienced the unconditional love and affection that is usually reserved for their parents.  We planned outings every day to keep ourselves sane, came home for lunch and a rest for all, then usually took boys to the park next door to chase and run (the playground is undergoing renovation and was CLOSED all summer).  DVD's and computer time and special treats abounded, lots of books were read and bedtimes occurred without much grief.  Space Needle, Monorail, Imagine Museum, Woodland Park Zoo at least 3 times, Pacific Science Center, spray parks, libraries, playgrounds, McDonald's (a big hit), the Blue Park a couple of times (Sheridan Beach) -- we hit them all!

The first couple of days Sam would get up and ask for Mommy to do things, but soon found that he didn't really have a choice but to transfer his allegiance to us!  I had put together 11 treat bags -- one for each day Mommy was gone -- and a red bag to show the day she would return.    Sam would get up from his sleep or his nap and say "Red bag, Mommy home!" then "Red bag, NOW!" after which I would go through the whole explanation again.  It seemed to work to help him somehow understand this long abandonment!  He was appeased by the treats in the bag and was soon playing happily again.  Sam's enthusiasm for all things was a joy -- he does his "happy dance" whenever he gets real excited, revs his body up before taking a run, wants to do everything "Meself," and insists on "hugs" whenever anyone leaves the room or the house!

Upon Mommy's return, Sam wanted both of us to put him to bed for his nap for a time or two, and we shared the responsibilities to keep him happy.  Caleb, in all his 5-year-old wisdom, kept us laughing.  He said that one of the books I was reading to him was too scary and we should wait to read it until he is ten.  "But," he says, "your voice might be too shaky by then!"  Alas, my voice MAY just be shaky by then, so I'm really glad we were able to have all this fun while we still are "young enough" to participate!  Or, upon finding out that there was a scary exhibit at PSC, he said "SAM would really be too scared to see this!"  His other comment was that he would really like to live here again.  And "if we could live with YOU that would be even more awesome!"  We tried to explain to him that we really don't have this much fun all the time, but we are so glad that a good time was had by all! 

We have now cleaned up the entire house, made a trip to Goodwill with toys that weren't popular or have been outgrown, sold the crib we had borrowed, put back the coffee table and the breakables, purged the frig and cupboard of things we'll never eat, and life is "back to normal," a state both wonderful and sadly too quiet!  It IS fun to go out to eat as two adults, take our walks, ride in our convertible, but we cherish the time we had with these two boys.  And their local cousins have gotten reacquainted and formed new memories! 

As grandparents we are truly blessed! 

The Weather

How boring am I to write about the weather?  But here in the PNW, we are complaining about the summer that hasn't yet arrived.  In fact, we are putting sweaters on our trees!  Check out the pictures and story of our local "yarn bombing" or "knit bombing as it's called. 


We really shouldn't be complaining, however, considering that many parts of the country are having a massive, dangerous heat wave.  We are hovering around the low 70's, while many places in the U.S. are in the high 90's or 100's! 

This picture, however, sent from my father who is roasting in the Arizona summer heat, says it all!






(Tree sweaters picture from Twitpik, melting ice cream truck by Australian sculptor Orest Keywan who won the $30,000 Sculpture by the Sea prize for his comment on global warming on the coastal walk from Bondi to Tamarama, Australia.)