My Christmas gift for you is one of my favourite Christmas memories. It was first published in the anthology, Christmas, Stories & More and then republished in my book Another Perspective.
Orange-Coloured Memories
My earliest Christmas memories are not of coloured lights or gifts under the tree. They are not even of fun and laughter shared at family gatherings. Instead, they are of something I looked forward to with great anticipation. The sweet smell made my mouth water and I could hardly wait to have a bite of the juicy goodness.
It may sound strange, but my fond memories are of a fruit that came in little wooden boxes. Mandarin oranges seemed like an exotic treat because they were available for so short a time.
I grew up in a family of five children. My sister, Barb, fourteen years older, was living on her own when I was very young, so she posed no competition for these treats. Two older brothers, Dave and Rob, were teenagers and could devour a box of oranges in an afternoon, leaving non for my little brother Tim and me.
To ensure everyone got their fair share, my mom would purchase a separate box for Tim and me. I clearly remember her counting the oranges in the box and dividing them evenly between us. Mom warned us, “This is all you will get. It’s up to you when you eat them, but you need to know, if you eat them all today, there won’t be any more.”
I took this to heart and hid the bag of oranges in my room, determined to enjoy them for as long as possible.
Tim tried to make his last, but they were so tasty, he’d soon finish his share. Before long, he’d be at my bedroom door begging for just one more.
There was no way I was going to part with any of mine. It wasn’t fair to expect me to look favourably on him just because he was only five and I was eight. Tim would ask mom to make me share. She’d patiently explain that he knew the rules and I could do whatever I wanted with my oranges.
I remember seeing an extra box of oranges that we weren’t allowed to touch. There was no explanation and one day the whole box was missing. Later, one of my older brothers shed some light on this mystery. He said Mom had told him he couldn’t open this box because Dad was taking them to the renters.
Our dad rented a small house to a single mom with young children. Mandarin oranges were expensive and he knew they couldn’t afford them. Dad wanted them to enjoy this treat as much as we did, so he was going to deliver the box to them. In my brother Rob’s words, “Our greedy little pleading faces had no impact on him whatsoever.”
Dad ensured we had all we needed and then quietly shared the abundance with others less fortunate. If Mom hadn’t told us, we never would have known of his generosity.
My quiet, unassuming dad unknowingly taught me to give without seeking attention. To some, giving a box of oranges may not seem like a big deal. To that family, it showed someone cared.
Christmas is a time when people openly show compassion and generosity. I had the opportunity to witness a modest example of this, and is the reason that some of my fondest Christmas memories revolve around mandarin oranges.
And yes, I did eventually give in and share with my little brother. Not because I had to, but because I learned how good it feels to freely share.
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Trapped at Home
The elderly man we passed in the stairwell used broken English and hand gestures to convey his message. We smiled and nodded, even though we weren’t sure what he was trying to tell us. All we knew was it had something to do with the stairs.
Although our assigned underground parking spot is next to the elevator, we routinely walk to the end of the hall and take the stairs. That is why it was several days after our encounter before I fully understood what this gentleman had attempted to convey.
A glance at the elevator as I passed caused me to stop and read the notice posted there. It was dated a few days earlier and informed us the elevator was out of order until the end of the week.
This situation would be inconvenient when we carried groceries in but was something we could still manage. It would be much more difficult for those in our building with mobility issues, such as the elderly man we saw who slowly made his way down the stairs. Some would be trapped, unable to exit the building without the elevator they relied on.
Being trapped at home is something many of us are experiencing right now. Restrictions on gathering together mean our Christmas will be spent at home and not with our loved ones.
I am one of the lucky ones. As much as I’d like to be with our children and grandchildren at Christmas, I am not alone. My husband and I will spend a quiet Christmas together. Through technology we will be able to connect with our family and watch them open their gifts.
There are many who will spend the day alone. I can’t invite others into my home right now but can reach out and let them know they haven’t been forgotten. Maybe being trapped at home this year will give me more opportunity to share the joy and love of the Christmas season.
Left in the Cold
My hands retreated inside my jacket sleeves. I flexed my fingers in an attempt to warm them up. My ears stung as another blast of arctic wind buffeted my body. I definitely wasn’t dressed properly for this morning’s walk.
I should know by now that sunshine doesn’t necessarily mean warmth. When I first stepped outside, the coolness surprised me. My body told me to go back for a hat and gloves. My mind said it wasn’t that bad and I’d been warm enough once I started walking. I listened to my body and set off at a brisk pace.
The first twenty minutes weren’t too bad. But now, I was more than two kilometers from home and paying the price for my lack of preparation.
Have you ever underestimated the time something would take or the resources needed and ended up not properly prepared? It’s happened to me more times than I can count.
I may not repeat the same mistake but seem to discover plenty of new ones on a similar theme.
Upon further examination, the problem might not be lack of preparation but an abundance of pride. There is usually some type of warning that I fail to heed, thinking I can handle the situation in my own way. Unfortunately, in these instances, the outcome is not what I had hoped for.
When I admit I don’t have all the answers and use common sense (like dressing for the weather), there is less chance I’ll be left out in the cold.
Confession
They say confession is good for the soul, so here goes.
Although I make my best efforts to stay positive, sometimes I fail miserably. Yesterday was one of those days.
To my mind, negativity dominated the conversations in the room. The popular opinion was opposed to my beliefs. I shouldn’t have let it get to me. After all, everyone is entitled to their opinion, right?
Instead, I became inwardly critical of every thought expressed. My judgments of how wrong these people were, took over. I didn’t open my mouth but am sure my body language spoke loud and clear. When a final comment pushed me over the edge, I quietly slipped out of the room. Without even a goodbye, I left.
I’m not proud of my reaction. In fact, I was still unsettled when I awoke this morning.
I stood at the kitchen window and watched the sun rise. The beauty reminded me that each day I have a new opportunity to start again. To do better than I did yesterday. I was determined to make the most of it.
In order to do this, I needed to figure out what had gone wrong. I thought of my husband gently pointing out my lack of tolerance. That certainly got my back up. Couldn’t he just acknowledge that I was right?
Realization struck me like a lightning bolt. I couldn’t accept other viewpoints because I knew I was right! I had chosen to be right rather than be happy. This is something that does not help me live my best life.
This confession is a way of holding myself accountable. When I know better, I can do better.
I am grateful today for the uncomfortable lesson that resulted in a renewed commitment to stay positive and to treat others with love and respect.
Adjusting My Focus
Why do you take a camera with you on vacation? I do because I expect to see something I’d like to turn into a memory.
That is also the reason I keep my phone with me when I go out for a walk. I never know what beauty, uniqueness or special moments will be there for me to capture.
Many years ago, I decided to approach each day this way. Not with a camera, but by focusing on the gifts God has placed all around me. During this time, I have observed so much that would have otherwise gone unnoticed.
There are countless reasons to be thankful. Some are large and obvious. Others are commonplace and easily missed. When I purposefully look for them, they become beacons to happiness.
This morning I looked out my window as the sun was rising over the frozen landscape. Instead of thinking how cold it was going to be for me to walk to an appointment this morning, I took a few moments to be grateful for a new day and the opportunity to embrace whatever it may bring.
I may not feel the same when I step into the frigid air, but there is a much better chance than if I approach it with negativity.
The secret to my happiness is not really a secret. All I have to do is open my eyes to all that God has given me. When my focus shifts from lack to abundance, I am more likely to capture the special moments and turn them into precious memories.
Growth Charts
Have you ever stood as straight and tall as possible, back against the wall, while your height was recorded?
My childhood home had a wall where such measurements were displayed. A pencil was placed level with the top of my head and a mark made on the wall. If I’d grown, the date and my name would be printed beside this line. The same would happen for my siblings.
I had such a wall for my children and my daughter has maintained this tradition for her children. Down through the generations, we like to see a tangible sign of our growth.
Physical growth is important to record. My grandson, who recently surpassed me in height, can attest to that!
I haven’t gained in height for many years and lately seem to be getting shorter. These days it is other forms of personal growth I’m looking to achieve.
Marks on the wall would make it easier to measure if I’m growing or shrinking but that’s not how this growth works.
Instead I need to ask myself some tough questions. Have I challenged myself to learn something new? Do I explore creative possibilities? When was the last time I stepped out of my comfort zone? Am I reaching out to connect with new people? How am I doing with my commitment to make a difference?
It can be quite comfortable to stay in my safe, predictable routine but that is when my growth stops and my life becomes smaller.
My best intentions have to be put into action to ensure my personal growth. There is no better time than now to stretch myself in new ways. Who wants to join me? Accountability partners are welcomed!
Gifts of Good Words
Follow the Gifts of Good Words Blog Hop taking place from November 4-18, 2020, and find quality Canadian Christian books for those on your Christmas list! Then on November 18th, join the Good Words Virtual Book Fair on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/events/3376193032494045
Today I’m pleased to introduce you to my book Another Perspective.
The idea for the book came when a friend and fellow author said, “You have a unique perspective on life.” The word perspective stuck with me and I knew one day it would be used as the focus of one of my books. Two years later, this book became a reality.
Another Perspective is a collection of short stories based on everyday events. As an observer of life, I take what I see, hear and experience and dig a little deeper to find and share the insights I’ve gained.
The book contains stories relating to fear, gratitude, forgiveness, healing, disagreement, patience, having fun and many other topics. The stories have been described as inspiring, folksy, relatable and wise.
I’m especially proud of the cover of this book. That’s me, conquering my fear of heights by going skydiving! You can read that story in the book.
Another Perspective and my other three devotional books can be purchased through my website www.timewithtandy.com/books or e-book from amazon.ca
Please check out books by my fellow Canadian Christian authors!
- Wednesday, November 4—Ruth L. Snyder https://ruthlsnyder.com/2020/11/04/gifts-of-good-words-blog-hop/
- Thursday, November 5—Eunice Matchett https://albertastoryteller.com/
- Friday, November 6—Grace Wulff https://gracewulff.com/
- Saturday, November 7—Tandy Balson https://www.timewithtandy.com/
- Sunday, November 8—LD Stauth https://www.ldstauth-author.com/
- Monday, November 9—Sally Meadows https://sallymeadows.com/
- Tuesday, November 10—Janet Sketchley https://janetsketchley.ca/
- Thursday, November 12—Marcia Laycock https://marcialeelaycock.com/
- Friday, November 13—Ruth Meyer (on Facebook) https://www.facebook.com/events/3376193032494045
- Saturday, November 14—Laurie Haughton http://lensofmotherhood.blogspot.com/
- Sunday, November 15—Carolyn Wilker https://www.carolynwilker.ca/
- Monday, November 16—Janice Cox https://www.janiscox.com/
- Tuesday, November 17—Lynn Collier https://lynnecollier.com
- Wednesday, November 18—Barrie Doyle https://barriedoyle.com
Let It Go
A few crisp brown leaves scutter across my second story deck. The chinook winds have stripped most trees of their leaves. A few, however, seem to refuse to release their once vibrant fall foliage.
I look at one leaf, fluttering wildly to escape as the tree holds on tenaciously. It is inevitable that the leaf will eventually be let go. This is a natural and necessary part of the life cycle.
I understand the reluctance to let go of what has contributed rich colour to my life. There comes a time, however, where holding onto the past prevents me from moving forward. I can appreciate the past and how it has shaped me into who I am today but know I can’t stay stuck there. With gratitude for lessons learned, I now need to focus on what’s ahead.
That doesn’t mean the letting go is easy. Far from it. The familiar is comfortable and feels safe. It may not be exciting or challenging but it also doesn’t involve risk and uncertainty. Unfortunately, this comfort zone prevents me from growing.
Instead of mourning the end of a season, I choose to welcome a new one. Each season has its own beauty and, as the trees are entering a period of replenishment during this time, so shall I. Without past expectations holding me back, I am free to gather knowledge and skills to help me grow.
Like the approaching winter, I have no idea what this season will bring or how long it will last. What I do know, is I will not be the same at the end of it as I am at the beginning. My life will continue to grow and change as new experiences and opportunities are presented and embraced. Let the possibilities begin!
Busy Beavers
I paused to lean on the weather worn railing of a small wooden bridge fording a stream. Slightly upstream was a beaver dam. The intricate structure of twigs and branches was fascinating.
I scanned the area, hoping for a glimpse of the industrious builder. Since beavers work at night, I had to be content with the stump nearby, bark stripped and teeth marks silently explaining the scattering of wood chips.
I marveled at the hard work that went into creating this structure. The reward would be protection against predators and easier access to food during the winter.
Unfortunately, these dams can also cause flooding and other problems. A few days later a sign close to the stream warned us not to leave established pathways as beaver control was currently underway. From what I understand, this consisted of trapping and relocating the beavers.
When I first saw the dam, my thought was to write about how hard work now can provide the food and shelter I will need when the cold, dark days of winter set in. This was going to be a metaphor for the tough times we all face at some point in our lives.
My mindset altered slightly when I learned of the need to control these industrious creatures.
Yes, it is good to ensure my loved ones are taken care of. It is also important to do so in such a way that I don’t cause problems for others. When I remain aware of conditions around me, I can work to build a secure home without endangering yours.
It’s Not Enough
Rivulets of water ran down my body as I pulled back the shower curtain and stepped onto the bath mat. My hand automatically reached for the towel, even while my eyes stared in disbelief. My bath towel was nowhere to be seen.
Too late, I remembered my plan to replace it after doing laundry the previous day. It had slipped my mind and now I would pay the price for my lack of attention.
I scanned the bathroom and my gaze rested on a hand towel. At least I could get some of the water off of me before I dripped my way to the linen closet.
Much to my surprise, I dried my entire body with this one small towel. Until I did it, I wouldn’t have thought it possible. My oversize bath sheet was not the necessity I thought, but a luxury.
My mind drifted back to this several times over the next few days. How many times in the past had I failed to be grateful for what I had, thinking it was not enough?
The Bible tells us to give thanks in everything. This is not always easy to do. I have found that, like the miracle of the loaves and fishes, when I thank God for what He has provided for me, my needs are always met.
That is why my gratitude journal tonight will contain an unusual entry; one that expresses thanks for the reminder that a small towel is enough.