I Believe In Angels

This was a hard year for our family. I think it was a hard year for many Albertans. Heck, it was probably a hard year for most of humanity.

Because of this, I was a little apprehensive about heading into the holiday season. Being immersed in school work, I planned to wait until December before hauling out the tree and accoutrements. I made it to November 29^th before succumbing to my son’s big eyes, pleading for the tree to go up and one more box of decorations to come out. Just one more box. Just one more...

He’s smart. Last night I sat on the couch to study while the tree sparkled cheerfully in the corner and I felt content and peaceful. Maybe Christmas shouldn’t be postponed. Maybe Christmas is exactly what I need.

As I basked in the glow of the tree lights and reflected on my life, I remembered all the angels who have helped our family this year. Not winged seraphs dressed in white robes singing “Glory to God in the Highest”, but angels dressed in regular clothes, quietly going about doing good.

We all need angels, especially in these hard times. Angels in all shapes and sizes – mothers, fathers, children, friends, teachers, volunteers, healthcare providers, emergency responders, neighbours, employers, and strangers. They are you. They are me. Helping, sharing, loving, and spreading peace and good will to all men.

If this is Christmas, I’m ready.

I wish you all a joyous – and angelic – Holiday Season.

That Feeling

Last Saturday I went with some ladies from my church to a seniors’ facility.  We sat with the residents and made simple Christmas ornaments for them to hang on their doors.

The woman who sat next to me was a little reluctant at first, until we were introduced and she learned who my husband was (he’d helped her with her computer a few years ago) and that I was Kathryn With A Why.  And I was surprised to learn that she is the mother of one of my church friends.  Anyway, we hit it off and enjoyed figuring out the instructions for making the ornament together.

As we worked, we talked.  She told me some of her history – how she met her husband on the coast when he was in the Navy, and how she lived in a one-room house when she first moved to Alberta.  When we were done making the ornament, I went to her room to help with some computer problems she was having.  I updated her browser and she showed me the Il Divo music videos that she enjoyed watching on YouTube.

When it was time to go, I gave her a hug and asked if I could come back and visit sometime, maybe bring my kids.  She seemed happy about that, so that’s what I’ll do.  I think we’ve just adopted a new Grandma in town!

The neat thing is, when I started out that morning, I had planned to do good for others.  I didn’t realize I would go home with that feeling – like my heart was going to burst with joy.  I’ve had that feeling many times, but each time it’s a wonderful surprise, though it shouldn’t be.  It’s that feeling God always gives His children when they show love for each other – at Christmastime and all year long.

I wonder how many other seniors would appreciate a visit.

Friends In High Places

I once heard someone say, “If anyone has to buy a zucchini in the summer, that person must not have any friends.”  Having just bought a zucchini, I said, “Hey!”  So we became friends and I didn’t have to buy another zucchini that summer.  Or the next.

The abundance of zucchinis this summer reminded me of this.  It also reminded me how nice it is to have friends.

A few weeks ago we ended up in Emergency (again) with our little guy.  It seems that whenever he gets a cold, he has complications – the latest ones being breathing difficulties that sent us to the Stollery by ambulance.  It sure is frightening to watch your baby struggling to breathe.  Then there are the other children at home to worry about.

Enter friends.

Friends who watch our children.  Friends who provide dinner when we’re unable to cook.  Friends who pray for us.  Friends who offer to keep our kids overnight if we have to be at the hospital past bedtime.

What would we do without friends?  I’m glad I haven’t had to find out.

In June I saw six high school girls walk past my house.  Five of them were holding some kind of electronic device, heads bent, fingers texting.  I couldn’t help but wonder if they were friends and, if so, why they weren’t talking to each other.  Or were they texting each other?  I don’t know.  But it did make me worry about the ability of future generations to make friends and communicate in relationships.

I tell my children that to have a friend you have to be one.  Sometimes we’re on the giving end, sometimes the receiving end.  But whenever someone lifts another, they are, indeed, a friend in high places.

Fathers Needed

When my son was born a year ago, my mom couldn’t come to help like she usually does (she had recently undergone knee replacement surgery).  Instead, my dad came to lend a hand.  He played games with the older children, did dishes faithfully, and vacuumed.

Late one morning I caught him on the back porch cleaning the vacuum filter with a toothpick and tweezers.  This simple act of service – doing this thing he knew I would never have time to do in the next several months – brought tears to my eyes.  That’s my dad.  Forever helpful, forever compassionate.

Is it any wonder I feel extra safe and extra loved when my dad comes to visit?  No one can ever take the place of a good dad.

Fathers are different than mothers.  That’s the way it’s supposed to be.  Among other things, they are great at wrestling, giving horsey rides, and teaching kids on a physical level.  Moms are usually better at nurturing and teaching on an emotional level.  The actions and teaching styles displayed by both parents are important in the healthy development of children.

Why do we belittle the role of fathers and downplay their importance?  Why do we let Hollywood tell us that we don’t need dads in the home?

All I need to do is look at the expression on my daughter’s face when her daddy tells her she looks pretty in her new dress, or performed well in a recital, or needs to do better at cleaning her room.  All I need to do is have my husband be away for an entire day to know how much we need him.

Fathers, we love you.  Please spend time with us.  Please be good to us.  The truth is: we need you desperately.

Those Three Little Words

I grew up in a family that didn’t say “I love you” very often.  In fact, it seemed to be a difficult thing for us to say.  Right before bedtime I occasionally mustered the courage to say it then I would quickly slip away to my room where I could hide my tears.

Now that I’m married with children, it’s easy to say “I love you” and wonderful to hear it in return.  But is saying it enough?

When I was growing up, I never doubted that my family loved me because we found other ways to show our love instead of saying it, like spending lots of time together both working and playing, and treating each other with respect.

If saying “I love you” is hard, there are other fun ways to express those three little words:  writing in steam on the bathroom mirror, a note tucked into a lunch box, or coloured paper hearts scattered on a favourite chair or pillow are just a few ideas.

My brother-in-law enjoys those little red cinnamon heart candies so my sister hides them throughout his personal belongings.  She wrote a poem telling him that whenever he finds one, he is to remember that she loves him.

Besides “I love you”, there are other three-word combinations that are nice to hear often:  “Thanks for dinner”, “Let me help”, or “I am sorry”.

What woman doesn’t like to hear “You look beautiful”, “Let’s eat out”, or “You are right”?  Men might rather hear “You’re so strong”, “Let’s make out”, or “Here’s the remote”.  Hey, whatever works!

As some fridge magnets remind us, “Love Is a Verb” because it is expressed and affected by the things we say and do.  To keep love alive and healthy, it needs to be fed and nurtured.  Using those three little words regularly is a good start.

The Magic of Giving

My first Christmas away from home was spent in Montreal with a roommate from Italy.  We couldn’t be with our families, so on Christmas Day we went to a long-term care facility to feed those who couldn’t feed themselves.  After lunch we went from room to room, visiting, admiring family photos, and singing requested carols.

One woman scared me.  When we went to her room, she hissed with bared teeth and foul breath, “I’m gonna die!”  Fortunately, a friend who was with us knew what to do.  He removed the angel from his lapel and gently pinned it to her nightgown, explaining that this angel would keep her company.  Her face softened and peace filled her eyes.  I marveled at the difference this kind but simple gesture had made to a frightened woman.

Not many days later we found her bed vacant, and I was extra grateful that we had spent some time and shared a little joy with her on Christmas Day.

Subsequent Christmases have come and gone, filled with friends and family, parties and concerts, good food, and plenty of presents.  Still, something about that Christmas in Montreal stands out from the others.  Gifts were few and family was absent, but joy was abundant as I learned that most important lesson:  When we give, we can’t help but receive.

That is the magic of giving.  When we spread love and joy by selflessly giving to others, we feel love and joy in our own hearts.

There are so many ways to give:  donating to a food bank; letting someone ahead of us in line; inviting a widow for dinner; shoveling a neighbour’s driveway; writing to a lonely uncle…  The possibilities are endless...and so is the magic of giving.