Today I made some memories and hopefully gave some children some memories as well.  It was fun hosting the homeschool children in our church for a Christmas party.  One of the mom’s brought games for the older children and they decorated cookies for fun and to eat.  The younger children played individually with the box of duplo that resides in our ottoman.  A draw for a new to you book was held and all enjoyed having a grab bag of goodies to take home and devour at a later date.

Children make Christmas fun.  The hugs I received from the little ones fills my heart with a warm fuzzy feeling.  Today I enjoyed showing off my huge teddy bear collection and the music boxes got a work out.  Now I can take off my hostess shoes and put my feet up and relax.  And treasure the memories we made today.

Today I was out in our storage room rooting around trying to find the Christmas decorations and found a box of memories.  It was filled with odds and ends from Rachel’s girlhood.  Two books, and an assortment of play purses and a wedding veil I made for Rachel in which to play bride.  I also found a “Little House on the Prairie” hat I had made for her for Old Fashioned Sunday at church  and a crown for when she was Queen Esther.  It was made out of tupperware cake taker handle.  I always wondered where on earth that handle went.  Years ago I gave the cake taker to my Aunt and it had no handle.

In this box were the mobiles which hung from the ceiling above each baby’s crib.  Raggedy Ann and Andy used to sail around above Rachel as she lay in her crib and watched them. I bought that mobile at a yard sale in Cincinnati when she was just a dream and a prayer of hope.

Now a days, my hubby and I rattle around this big house and in every room there are memories of our children…good ones…memories we treasure since we do not have our children at home anymore.  Someone called my children, perfect, the other day.  I will be the first to say they are not perfect, but we sure are blessed to have wonderful children.  It’s funny how the bad memories fade and the good ones stay fresh.  God is good to do that for us.

Yesterday I took my two charges for their hour skate time at a rink.  While they were getting ready I found my spot under a bright light and watched the action as the children straggled onto the ice.  As in any crowd, there are a few who stand out . There are many who obey the rules of skating in a circle but there are always a good number who do things their own way, often endangering others who are just trying to stay upright.  All I can say is that it is a good thing that I am not on the ice, because I would be policing the whole show and bossing those rule breakers around.  The culprits are boys around the age of 12, who are still using the racks, but do not need them. Instead they use them to push into other people and tag them in their game of tag.  Doing this they weave in and out through the crowd that are skating round and round.  They are just an accident waiting to happen.

I watched two little brothers, about 9 and 6, trying to be like the NHL players who climb over the boards from the bench to get on the ice.  The funny thing is that the men who do this in the leagues, have nice long legs that are basically on the ice as they heave themselves over the boards.  These two boys had quite a drop.  They gave it a couple of tries and after conversing a while about it, headed back onto the ice for their skate time.

The other observation includes the youngest set, each of them wearing their protective gear, that is, a helmet that looks like it is too big for their head, and tiny skates.  They hang on to the push bars and their little running steps are quick and soon they glide for  a brief time and then take frantic running steps again.  Sometimes their speed gets out of control and when that happens, their legs tend to fold up under them and down their go.  No tears erupt because they know this is par for the course on ice, so they haul themselves up and have another go.

As the years pass, the memories of WWI and WWII begin to fade, and the warriors who fought in them die and so soon we begin to forget their sacrifices.  I choose to remember the six relatives I have that served in the wars in various capacities.

Great Uncle Hayden served in the First World War, and for a long time was the last remaining soldier alive in Northumberland County.  Uncle Jim and Uncle Don Goodfellow served in the Air Force, and Uncle Don never returned…he was shot down over Germany.  He was a bombardier.  He was very young.  I have his diary of his time in England.  His sister, Aunt Louise,  served on the hospital trains bringing the wounded boys home.  I wish I could have recorded her stories.

On my mother’s side of the story, Uncle Syd went and served and Uncle Bruce, an Uncle by marriage also served.   My Father in law was in the United States Army and he served as well.  So I have a rich heritage of military men and women who gave selflessly to the cause.  My own father also commented that he would have gone if he could but because both of his brothers joined, he was compelled to stay home and work the farm with his father.

As I see the soldiers and sailors today wearing the red poppy and remembering the horrors of war, I too will remember and say…”Thank You”  for serving…for giving of your innocence and youth, of giving your life and health so I could raise my family in freedom. Lest we forget.

Recently I started taking two children to a Homeschool skating hour at a local arena.  The homeschool families rent the arena for an hour of skating and hockey fun.  I used to bring my children to this same arena for an hour skate many years ago.  I always brought my stroller and borrowed a baby or toddler and pushed it on the ice.  That way I had something to hang onto and keep me upright.  The one time I did not have a stroller, a child skating the wrong way ploughed into me causing me to fall.  That was one of the last times I skated in the arena.

Now, I just watch and take pictures. The first time I brought my two youngsters, a preteen boy began chatting with me like I was a long lost friend.  He was on skates for the first time in about seven years and he was proud of his “remembering” at how to skate.  I smiled and affirmed his comments all the while doing a mental check list of the “poor homeschooled” children who are supposed to be so poorly socialized.  I remembered my own children, homeschooled and yet able to carry on a conversation with a senior citizen, a peer, an adult, or a child much younger than themselves.  Is this not socialization?  Being able to talk to anyone and get along socially?

There have been many instances in which I have observed children in social settings, and it seemed evident that the ones from “school” situations did not have the social skills to talk to someone other than their peers. So once again, we prove the naysayers wrong….

Which brings me to lime green boots.   I enjoyed watching a boy of three or four the other day at the arena.  After he was finished on the ice, donned his lime green boots and proceeded to practice climbing stairs in the stands and running along the top deck and climbing down the stairs and running along the front and so on and so on etc.  I admired his lime green boots and when I told him so he said, “Thank you very much.”  I was impressed by his response.  Obviously his parents have taken the time to teach him how to respond when someone gives you a compliment.  This is not a news flash but this is my reality.

October 11th, would have been my Dad’s 101st birthday.  With some parents, you struggle to find some good memories with which to remember them by…but with my dad it was almost all good.  He was a kind man with a twinkle in his eye.  He loved to make fun, have fun, and so enjoyed a good joke.  In preparation for a visit of a relative, he would be composing a short poem or rehashing some funny happening from years past to remind the guest of happy times.

He was kind to animals and although he tolerated my cats, the pictures of his famous cows hung on his walls.  He was a farmer through and through and could relate stories of years ago…of runaway teams of horses, and what it felt like to surprise some boys on Halloween when they were trying to pull some trick on him.

Every afternoon following his lunch before I was off to school, we would cuddle on the couch and he would pretend to eat my ear for dessert.  What a wonderful memory that is…I can still feel his rough beard nuzzling my cheek.  When he grew sleepy I would crawl off the couch and go on to other adventures.

He lived with us for 5 and a half years before he passed away and I am glad I could give back some of the kindness with which I was brought up.  I believe his life was sustained by loving family living.  To this day when I hear the downstairs door open and close, I think ” Dad has something to talk over with me.”  That was his way….I miss him…I am thankful for a great Dad.

On Friday I was a mother duck to five ducklings.  I had my two charges in tow, plus three other siblings who are 6, 4, and 2 years old.  I hauled out my “old” umbrella out of the garage for the two year old and all watched me as I unfolded it and put her in it.  We began walking to the play park about 3 blocks away.   The four year old is an observant child and he began scanning the group and made some observations.  He said that his little sister was the youngest in the group and that Mrs. Spence was the most oldest in the group and her stroller was the most oldest too.  The little bits of rust on the metal…just gave it away.

I had a personal quiet chuckle to myself and made a note to remember the comment to tell his mom and to get a laugh from my own friends and loved ones.  I love a good laugh and I like to make people laugh so it was a win win situation.  I have always loved little children and was sorry in a way that my children had to leave that stage behind…if I am honest, it was exhausting.  But I love the honesty and freshness with which a child of four views his world.  It is something rare and wonderful and to be treasured.  Yes, I am the most oldest I have ever been, and with age has come some wisdom.  The wisdom when to laugh out loud and when to laugh inside.  I never will contradict a child who is honestly trying to size up his world.  I just find them totally charming.  This is not a news flash…this is my reality.

Recently my hubby and I journeyed to Quebec City for a Preacher’s Conference.  We rented a car from the airport and were surprised to be upgraded to a Dodge Charger. This was fun for my husband but made me revert to my shrieking ministry.  We are not used to so much power under the hood.  The hotel where the conference was being held was close to the airport and we arrived in time for the preaching.

On Tuesday we met in an old Baptist Church with stained glass windows and history oozing out of every pew.  In the afternoon we did a walk-a-bout in the old city.  This was a truly amazing experience.  The weather was overcast and on the rainy side but thankfully the clouds did not let loose on us as we walked around, marveling in the old stone buildings, colourful window boxes and friendly people.

On Wednesday, we packed our bags and after a lunch with friends at a Chinese restaurant, where the Chinese people spoke French, we headed to the airport where we waited for our flight back to British Columbia.  The flight allowed us to spread out and thankfully we were not crowded…which was a real blessing. Our whirlwind trip was a blessing.  We are so glad we went.

by Catherine Swift

Recently we watched the film, “Chariots of Fire” in which the life of Eric Liddell was portrayed.  I was intrigued enough to want to read his biography again so I did just that.  Here was an ordinary Scottish man, actually, of Chinese birth…born in China, but of Scottish parents, but who lived an extraordinary life.

This book explains the times in which Eric was born and gives a history of the people of China which helps us to understand much.  I was impressed yet again of how Eric allowed the Lord to use him and how he glorified the Lord in whatever he put his hands or feet to do.  He glorified the Lord with his running and with just his living of his life.  Isn’t that what it is all about?  Are we not, those of us who are believers, to praise the Lord with our lives, actions, attitudes and outlooks?

I highly recommend this book, for it does show that some liberties were taken in the film that did not happen in his life.  This book is a really good read.  Informative and inspiring.

Mother Forever

by Ralph T. Nordlund

If I could live ten thousand years,

I still would think of Mother,

Remembering her smiles and tears,

And how we loved each other.

Years cannot dim that vision bright,

I count my dearest treasure;

They only seem to shed more light

Upon her worth and measure.

The Christian faith that through her shone

Is still my inspiration;

The wisdom of her ways I own

With more appreciation.

If I could think ten thousand years,

How think you, friend and brother,

Could I forget that dream that cheers

And oft brings back my Mother?

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