 Unlike all my other grandparents, who have always been part of my life, I remember the day I met Granny. Other than my mother, my great-grandmother, known to us as Granny, had the greatest influence on my life.
I was near age three when a woman I didn’t know, came to our house. She looked like a giant and wore a black hat. I was not afraid to politely inquire, “Who are you?” She smiled and leaned down to my level, “I’m your great-grandmother and I’ve come to help take care of you.” And she did. To this day it is one of my favorite memories. In fact, it is a rare memory indeed that does not include her. She was born Cora Elizabeth Pence in Charlotte in 1889 in an area then known as Crab Orchard. Today, it is the Hickory Grove/Pence Road/ Harris Blvd/Plaza Road area. From the day I met her until the day she left this earth at the age of 97, she was a guiding force. Not a force that bowled you over or shoved anything down your throat. No, Granny was not like that; she was a force of love. I never heard her say an unkind word to, or about, anyone. The strength of her faith and her values were in every step she took and every word she spoke. Many were the stories she shared with me and my siblings. They might be about her own childhood or those of her parents. Tidbits of history would be mixed into the stories in such a way that you were learning of the past whether you knew it or not. Some of the stories where funny in and of themselves, but what really made us laugh was how tickled Granny would get when she recalled them. One story in particular would have us rolling. A group of friends, including Granny, went out for a picnic. If memory serves me, I believe the group was comprised of both boys and girls. While sitting on the ground, a snake, likely a non-poisonous green snake, slithered up the dress of one of the girls. As soon as the poor girl realized it, she jumped up, shook her dress, screamed and hollered. Well, you have to remember the times - a young girl had multiple layers of underclothing. Let me tell you, the sweltering heat of North Carolina is no time to wear layers! Apparently this young lady was quite the rebel and had decided against wearing all those underclothes. When she commenced to shaking her dress, all those at the picnic watching, saw what wasn’t there. With indignation, shame, and embarrassment, she demanded, “Don’t you tell anybody what you saw! Don’t you tell anybody what you saw!” Sixty some odd years later, Granny would laugh so hard while telling us the story, she’d have tears in her eyes and could barely speak for laughing. I know Granny told us the young lady’s name, but I do not remember it; nevertheless, that woman has given several generations a good laugh. I remember her telling us that a Model-T went so fast they thought it would take their breath away; but this same woman rode the Gold Rush roller coaster at Carowinds at the age of 85. The tidbits of history she told encouraged my love of the past, putting a face to what was otherwise lost to the hands of time. A trip to Charlotte was a rare trip, and probably only occurred when money from the cotton crop was received. When new shoes were purchased, it might have been her father going to town, template in hand, likely made from a scrap of paper, in the size the child(ren) required. To satisfy a sweet tooth, young Cora would sneak a lump of brown sugar and hide beneath the house to relish it in private. There were nine children in her family and she once asked her mother how she managed with all those children? Her mother replied, “If they hadn’t been mine, there were days I would have run off to the woods.” It is because of the stories she told my mother and then us, that we know so much of our family history. Granny delighted in gardening. Come March she’d say to my Dad, “Paige, what are we going to plant this year?” I was cringing, working in the garden was the LAST thing this sissy wanted to do - now it’s one of my favorite activities. Every time I rest on my hoe, waiting for that oh so lovely breeze to find its way under my shirt, I think of Granny resting on her hoe, surveying the garden, and waiting for that breeze. I remember the thousands of green beans she must have strung, snapped, and canned, the hundreds of apples she peeled and sliced for drying, and the dozens of ears of corn she shucked and prepared for freezing. I remember the times she would sneak the food off my plate when she thought mama wasn’t watching so I could have dessert. I remember her telling me I had a pretty alto voice and that I was a partying girl. Mostly I remember her love, and I’m mighty glad she came to live with us on that day so many years ago.
7 Comments
 She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come. 26 She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. Proverbs 31:25-26 Everyday I realize more and more how blessed I have been to have Nancy-Coe Hall as my mother and how thankful I am that she is still here with me. As children, our parents took us on what I considered great adventures, mostly camping expeditions, but not always. My mother would read to us about the history behind the landmarks we visited. I credit her with my love of history, not to mention reading. Many are the nights that all four of us children would gather in the "girls" bedroom, where mama would read us stories - we were on first name basis with the librarian and never missed an opportunity to browse bookstores. More importantly, she has been a prayer warrior over her children and grandchildren all our lives. Don't know why God put me in her care, but I sure am thankful He did. Despite all the ups and downs of life, my mother has kept a positive attitude and is likely to find the silver lining in every cloud. I can always call her when I'm feeling worried or nervous about something and she will encourag and help me figure out what to do next. She is intelligent, has a wonderful sense of humor and is a lot of fun to be around. As a young married woman, I frequently called her to ask her first one thing then another. I'll never forget one day when I was trying to figure something out and my son said, "Why don't you call Nannie-Coe, she knows everything!" I laughed, agreed, and promptly called her. When I became a single mom, she was my greatest supporter - there for me and my children, helping us through thick and thin. She saw my children come into this world and was right there when my son, Steven, left this world. She is the strongest woman I know - I love you mama and I wouldn't trade my time with you for anything! Happy Mother's Day!  My heart is overflowing with a good theme; I recite my composition concerning the King; My tongue is the pen of a ready writer. Psalm 45:1 A few weeks ago, in preparation for the arrival of my family for Resurrection Sunday lunch, I was busy dusting - the move things, dust under kind of dusting, not the quick swipe kind. On the top of my great-grandmother's’ wardrobe sits an old box my father used to store seeds. Now it plays house to letters and cards of all shapes and sizes, from my great-grandparents, mother, aunt, and children. The box itself is special. The picture on the front has faded with time, but it carriers nostalgia like the fragrance of spring through an open window. I remember it sitting in my father's workshop, not nearly as full with seeds as it is now with letters. The box made a good landing spot for the seeds that would eventually find their way to the garden behind our house. The inside of the lid is decorated by some mischievous hand - I couldn’t tell you whose. But the letters and cards inside, Ah, what a treasure they are to me. Most are from my grandmother, Ruth Victoria Martin Teeter. She was gifted, both artistically and musically. She also had a tremendous love for all nature. She shared her knowledge in a way that a young child found easy to understand. She suffered from a muscular disease, Myasthenia Gravis (MG). Today people with this disease generally live a full life, but at the time my grandmother suffered, medical science had few remedies. Physical activities easily exhausted her and muscle weakness caused her to give up driving as well as playing the violin for the Charlotte Symphony. She did not allow the loss of either to stop her. She begin giving music lessons and, in later life, had her art work displayed in a Charlotte gallery. Letters were her window to the world, she kept up correspondence with many friends and family through the years, including some in Japan that she would never meet. Time spent with her was magical. She always had some interesting gift or item to share with her grandchildren and when you were at her home, you felt like you were the most important person in her world. We would go on walks through the neighborhood and she would teach me the names of the different trees based on their leafs. Or, we might stroll down the hill behind her house into the woods; she had created a spot she called her “thinking spot”. Two concrete mushrooms marked the spot and served as seats. These same mushrooms now grace my rose garden, one as a seat and the other, turned upside down, is a pedestal for my bird bath. She lived scarcely three miles from my home and, though I saw her frequently, I received letters on a regular basis. Her letters shared the simple things she saw from her window each day - nature. Whether it was a bee, squirrel, or bird, she relayed their daily activity and the importance it played to the world in a manner that entertained and taught the child on the receiving end. Re-reading her letters puts a smile on my heart, I can hear her voice and see the expression on her face. I knew she believed in my ability to be anything I wanted to be, no matter what career I was interested in at any particular moment, she would encourage me. She taught me to knit when I was in elementary school and later, when I mentioned secretarial work, she gave me my first typewriter and taught me to type. As a teenager, when I was interested in journalism, she encouraged me there as well. To be honest, I must add that her letters could also scold, but these I received later, when as a young adult she believed I needed admonishing - and I did. Words, whether spoken or written, have a tremendous amount of power. The tongue that welds them, or the pen that writes them, should always be used with care and prayer. All these years later, reading over the cards and letters, reminds me of the rich blessing of family, especially grandparents, and what an impact they have on their grandchildren. The picture below is Ruth with her first great-grandchild, my daughter, Michelle. My Uncle Edwar looks over her shoulder. So many precious memories.   Scripture tells us that on Good Friday Jesus was crucified and on Sunday, He was resurrected. But what about Saturday, the day in between?
Saturday, the day in between? We’ve seen the movies, The Passion, King of Kings, Ben Hur and many others. They show us the humanness of Christ, the treachery of man, and the power of God. We hate the injustice, but as Christians, we know the necessity of Christ dying for us. Without His death, we’d have no bridge to the Father. We rejoice when Sunday comes and the tomb is empty! What happened to Jesus on Saturday? Where was He? What was He doing? Today, on this day in between, I want us to think about what He endured. The suffering didn’t end with His death on the cross. He did not release His soul from His body to float around earth for a while and then return to his body. No. He descended into hell. For us. Otherwise, the debt would not be paid, “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 6:23. Strong’s Concordance, defines death in this particular scripture as the Greek noun thanatos and here it speaks of Christ punishment, with the implication of future misery in hell. I don’t like to think of hell, or the fact that I was squarely on the wide road to it, until I met Jesus and He changed my direction. But it bears a great deal of thinking about, because Jesus went to hell, so that when we believe, repent, and accept Him, we do not go to hell. Imagine how the disciples felt on that in between day. They believed Jesus was the Messiah, and indeed, He is; however, they expected the Messiah to be a warrior, to free them from earthly oppression, to make them rulers of the land. God’s plans are always bigger and farther reaching than ours! On that in between day, while the disciples scattered and hid from the authorities in fear, Jesus was fighting a battle in hell that would free them, and us, for all eternity, not just the oppression of earth, brought about by the devil and his ability to entice us to sin. Here is further validation. After the resurrection, Mary Magdalene sees Jesus in the garden and she does not recognize Him, she believes he is the gardener. Once He opens her eyes, she realizes who He is and she wants to touch Him. He does not allow her to because He tells her He has not yet ascended to the Father, read the full story here. If he had not ascended to the Father and He had not been on earth during this period, from where do you think He had come? Hell. We do not like sermons about hell and many do not believe there is a hell. Frequently I’ve heard it joked about, as if hell is a partying place where all the people that want to have fun get to go. If we really believed, and could conceive of the torment and hopelessness that is hell, we would not joke about it or tell someone to go there. Hell was never intended for humans. Hell was intended for the devil and his followers AKA demons. We have no problem believing angels exist, but seem to baulk at demons. Demons are the same creatures as angels, they just followed the wrong dude - Satan. The Good News is this: Christ left heaven and came to earth for us, He died for us, He beat hell for us and His resurrection is proof of His having beat hell. Here’s a great scripture for this in between day, “If you declare with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved.” Romans 10:9-10 Marantha my friends!  Some might call it a tuna melt - but it really began as the tuna burger. This, you must understand, was before Julia Child ushered in the period of gourmet cooking. Open faced, toasted hamburger buns topped with tuna (mixed with just the right amount of mayo), canned tomatoes (I use the petite chopped), and enough cheese to make the tomato look like it’s taking a nap. You might ask what this has to do with a legacy - it’s a fair question.
My grandmother, Ruth Victoria Martin Teeter, first served this concoction to my mother, where the recipe came from, I have no idea. My mother made them for us, I made them for my family, and both my children make them. It isn’t about the recipe. It’s about the meal. I think we would all agree that society as a whole revolves around meals - always has. One of my favorite parts of the Bible is where Jesus reinstates Peter after Peter has denied being Jesus disciple. Jesus had warned the disciples that the time was near when they would all desert Him. Peter vehemently denies that he would do such a thing, even goes so far as to proclaim he would die for Jesus. Jesus tells Peter that he will deny Him three times before the rooster crows that day. This comes to pass and Peter is devastated, sick at heart, and weeps bitterly. Later, after the resurrection, some of the disciples go fishing, among them, Peter. Nothing unusual in this, they were fishermen before they were disciples. They catch nothing and are heading back to shore when a man on shore suggest they throw their net on the right side of the boat. They are doubtful, but figure it won’t hurt to try. The result? They struggle to haul in the net that now holds 153 fish! Yes, the Bible gives you the exact number - think there could be a tuna in that net? John is the first to realize that the stranger on shore is Jesus. Peter is so excited at the prospect of seeing Jesus that he jumps overboard and swims to shore, leaving the rest to tend the fish. Can’t you feel Peter’s excitement, his love, his joy?! When he reaches shore, Jesus has prepared a meal - isn’t our Lord awesome! He is always feeding us, literally and spiritually! Jesus asks Peter the same question three times, “Do you love me?” To which Peter replies, “Yes”. You can read the full story here and here. I encourage you to read it in its entirety. Each time Peter replies, Jesus tells him what he wants him to do in life. Who of us, at some time, has not denied Christ? Isn’t it wonderful to know that when we ask for forgiveness and repent, He forgives us? He then strengthens us and changes us so that we do not repeat the past. God’s love is greater than we can imagine. The closest I can come, is the love I have for my children. I would gladly give my life for them, but I can’t say I would give their lives up for anyone. But God gave His son for us. WOW! How does this relate to that tuna burger? Never underestimate the value of time spent around a meal. The last supper was were Jesus told Peter he would deny Him and it was another meal where He reinstated Peter. A few other examples: Jesus turned water into wine at a wedding feast and twice fed thousands with only a basket full of bread and fish. And let’s not forget that the original sin was all due to the desire to eat an apple! Today, a lot of meals are hurried - we rush from one activity to another. My memories of meals with my parents and sibling and those I enjoyed with my children, are priceless. Recently I spoke with a friend of my daughter. It was the first time we had seen each other in many years. When she realized who I was her response was, “The last time I saw you was when you made those tuna melts for us! I make them for my family!” Her words made my heart smile and warmed me from the inside out. Something so simple can make memories not only for your family, but all who dine at your table. Share the love - even if it is the shape of a tuna burger.  Safely Home by Randy Alcorn - Let me start by saying this isn’t a book review. It’s about how this book inspired me. I’ve read it twice. The first time, I had recently returned from a trip to China with my sister. She and my brother-in-law where traveling to adopt their second child and I went along as a helping hand. After reading this story, I was convinced I should take Bibles to China. I didn’t. Recently, that same sister challenged me to encourage reading by posting the cover of some of my favorite books over a period of seven days. Safely Home had made such an impression on me that it has remained one of my favorites - after posting it to social media, I decided to read it again. This time the impression became indelible. Why? Because I’m different. When you meet Jesus, He changes your life in ways you cannot begin to image. You see everything in life in a different light - in His light.
As a child, one of my first desires was to be a missionary. It may have been the allure of travel, something I still enjoy. Followers of Jesus frequently quote the Great Commission: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you; and low, I am with you always even to the end of the age.” Matthew 27:19-20. It is also found in Mark 16:15-16, “And he said to them, ‘Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature. He who believes and is baptized will be saved, but he who does not believe will be condemned.’” While I still desire to go beyond the boundaries of my hometown and country, sharing the saving truth and love of Jesus Christ, I realize that my inability to go does not make me any less a missionary nor excuse me from the Great Commission. Some go, others may enable those going to be successful, by their gifts and their prayers. This story showed me and reminded me of those who are being persecuted and the difference between the United States and other countries, be it China or any other country, that does not allow the freedom to worship God as we do. As believers we need to lift our brothers and sisters in Christ up in prayer every day. Especially those who are being persecuted. Our national news seldom reports the truth of the persecution Christians in other countries face daily. We are their voice crying out to God on their behalf, it is more than our responsibility, it is an opportunity. An opportunity to be united as believers, an opportunity to speak with our creator, an opportunity to strengthen our own faith. As I read Safely Home, it once again reminded me that those who are persecuted are stronger in faith than those who are not. I am blessed to be an American. But I am an American not because of anything other than it was God’s will that I be here - what am I doing to help those who God put in other countries? How would I have fared had I been placed there instead of here - I fear I would not have had the perseverance and faith of my persecuted brothers and sisters. Who's to say that persecution won’t someday come to the shores of America - even now I see it’s tentacles. Would it not behoove me to pray without ceasing so that should I face such a time, my faith will be strong? There are sources that bring you the news from these countries, here are a couple of the best that I’m aware of, check them out at your leisure, Open Doors and Voice of the Martyrs. Join me in being committed to praying, not only for the missionaries and citizens in oppressed countries, but also believers in America. Pray that America will be awakened, dare I say revived, to the great need and the part we each have in fulfilling the call of the Great Commission.  No, not that kind of high, although I’ve been there too, once about a time. I’m speaking of a Christian high. Some might call it being filled with the Holy Spirit - but it isn’t. In reality it is an emotional high.
You’ve been to church, the music was awesome, inspiring to the point you are visibly moved. The preaching was off the chart and the fellowship was all you desired. You walk out the door “feeling” pretty doggone good! Your relationship with God is firmly in place, you’ve got a song in your heart, if not on your lips; all in all you’re pretty happy with yourself, got your halo all shined up. But, by the time you’re in your car, ready to leave, your halo has done more than slip. Yep, it’s fallen all the way off as you act the fool in the parking lot because someone didn’t let you out or cut you off or you “felt” slighted in some way. WHAT?!!!!! You know I’m speaking the truth. It is easy to get wrapped up in emotions. Emotions are quick to change. Years ago I heard singer/songwriter, comedian Mark Lowry talk about not “feeling” saved - that stuck with me. Your relationship with God is more than a feeling. As a follower of Christ you are filled with the Holy Spirit but that doesn’t mean you always feel like you can climb the highest mountain. Like any relationship, it is a two way street and takes some amount of commitment to deepen and grow. There was a time when talking to God required a sacrifice. Why? I wondered the same thing. Simple answer - SIN. Sin prevents communication with God. Why? Because God is holy. God did not like that sin prevented us from talking to him and that constant blood sacrifices, using a blemish free animal, were required. So, He sent the perfect sacrifice, His son Jesus Christ. John 3:16 says it best, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” If we acknowledge our sin, accept the sacrifice and turn from our sin, “ . . . He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from everything we’ve done wrong.” 1 John 1:9. While we won’t reach perfection on earth, we can, with the help of the Holy Spirit, do better each day. I’m thankful that God is faithful and just, even when I fail miserably. If this post helped or blessed you in any way, let me know - I love hearing how God works with the simple words He gives me to use. Please share it so others may be likewise blessed.  New beginnings come in differently tied packages: marriage, birth of a child, new job, move across country. Joyous occasions. But some times they are life rising from the ashes: divorce, loss of a loved one, natural disasters. New beginnings that come as a result of tragedy cause us to re-examine our lives with a brand new pair of glasses. Glasses that remind us of all the love we’ve had in the past, giving us hope for the future. Glasses that help us recognize the lessons we’ve learned, giving us wisdom to help others. Glasses that show us the future is bright because of the love and lessons that brought us to a new day.
I do not mean to make it sound easy, it’s anything but . . . I know, I’m in one of those new beginnings and some days my life feels like it’s coming apart, as if the edges of my soul are held together with a basting stitch - a stitch used to hold pieces of material together until the final tight, small stitches are in place. My life is new, unexplored territory, but inch by painstaking inch, tiny new stitches are being sewn. Somedays the tears, sorrow, and regret, threaten to seep through the tight band of control I usually convince myself I possess. As God would have it, not long after I lost my son, I found myself in the book of Job. It wasn’t like I planned it, I had finished the book of Esther and Job was next. I’ve read Job before and, to be honest, it was not the easiest book to read. And it’s far from my favorite, no my favorite in the Old Testament is Ruth. After all, Ruth is a romance - what can I say, God created me as a romantic. This time, reading Job was different. Verses spoke to me on a deeper level. Job 3:13 “Then they (Job’s friends) sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.” God has rewarded me with so many good friends and to have them reach out to me in love, encouragement, with heartfelt sorrow, has been the greatest comfort. Sometimes they know exactly what to say, other times they say nothing because there is a sorrow that words cannot touch. I’ve thought about Job and this verse many times, it kept coming back to my mind. The silence of seven days. Seven days. We live in a culture that has trouble being silent for five minutes. Never underestimate the importance of being there for a friend in need, even if you don’t know what to say. Believe me, you are making a difference simply by your presence. Despite all that Job suffered, his faith in God remained strong. Job 19:25 “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end He will stand upon the earth.” Hope - it is powerful and wonderful, and when you know God, it is real. As I enter 2019, a new beginning for me - my hope is to know God better and to share His love with all I know. His love is real, His salvation is real and it is here for you - whoever you are and wherever you are, makes no difference to Him. He created you and loves you and desires to have a relationship with You.  June 18, 2018 - the date of my re-birth. In the writing world it is called the "Ah Ha Moment." That point in time when the protagonist realizes the untruth in what she has always believed; she learns the truth. From that point on, she is a new creature. She will never be the same again. She will act differently and think differently for the rest of her life.
What did I gain in my "Ah Ha Moment"? Freedom, peace, and the most meaningful relationship of my life! I share it because I want everyone to know the same freedom, peace, and intimacy I have gained. The most wonderful news is that it is available to everyone who chooses! Of course, not everyone is interested or cares - it is a personal decision. It seems even more amazing to be because it is a relationship I thought I had already nailed down. I'd followed all the steps to achieve it, participated in all the activities to improve its' meaningfulness and depth. Yet I had missed the whole point. After all, a relationship does involve active participation from both sides - I should have realized the relationship I thought I had was pretty one sided. There was no true communication going on. There were telltale signs along the way but I conveniently ignored some and misread others. But, there was a niggling of doubt that was always there, just beneath the surface, telling me that what I thought I had was not all that it should or could be. By now you probably want me to get to the point. The relationship I'm speaking of is the one I have with God through His son Jesus. It took me 53 1/2 years to get my "ah ha moment" so forgive me while I revel in its' beauty. I cannot get over how much He did so that I could have this moment. How patiently He has been waiting on me to finally realize that this relationship matters to Him because He loves me! How could it have taken me so long? I who was raised in the church, attended, volunteered, etc. How could I have missed the most important fact, that God desires intimacy of relationship. He desires to sit with me. Now, more than anything, I want to sit with Him. There is a story in the bible about two sisters, Martha and Mary - just so you know, I am a Martha - always needing to be busy, usually about unimportant matters. Mary knew what was important, she sat at Jesus feet and listened to all He said (Luke 10:38-42). A sermon from the pastor in my home church, followed by a blog post from someone I have never met, but will forever consider as a dear friend, changed my life for eternity. Now I understand that God did it all because He loves me. My love and relationship with Him brings Him glory and shows others His love. It is more beautiful than words can describe. I always knew that God forgave my sins when I asked, but because I didn't understand the scope of His love, I never accepted His forgiveness. Consequently, my sins constantly weighed me down and the quilt is a heavy burden. Not only that, but I could not escape my flesh and the sins I seemed to have no power to escape. Once understanding arrived, I experienced a shift in my thinking and acting that I can only attribute to the work of the Holy Spirit in me. This is not to say I do not experience problems, or that I don't sin. However, the power to overcome and say no rises up in me and gives me the strength I never before experienced. Now I have experienced the yoke of my Lord and His burden is light (Matthew 11:30). The freedom from past sin is incomprehensible and as scripture says, when the Son has set you free, you are free indeed (John 8:36). Traditions, in most cases they are begun with no intention of becoming anything other than what someone just happened to do. A tradition begun by my grandmother, Ruth Teeter, centered on Santa Claus. Seems whenever he visited he had a hole in his toy sack that resulted in a trail of candy wherever he walked. My mother continued the tradition as did I and my daughter.
As a child, I was delighted to wake Christmas morning and see the trail of candy and doing the same for my children was every bit as fun and delightful as it had been when I was the recipient. Even when I was no longer susceptible to the legend of Santa Claus the candy trail was exciting. It carried a hint of the Christmas Spirit. We are almost a month past Christmas. Decorations are put safely in the attic, Christmas music no longer blares as we frantically shop for presents and the last ingredient in that special meal we have planned. Children's excitement for the presents they will receive is now focused on the coming summer break - which can't arrive quick enough - and although we are no longer crazy from the Christmas season, we are no less busy as we continue with our hectic lives. But the Christmas Spirit should never be put away. It should be sprinkled all along the path we tread each day, much like the candy from Santa's sack - to delight, encourage, and love all who cross our way. What are some of your family's traditions? Share in the comments, I'd love to hear from you. |