NEW CHRISTMAS TRADITION

This was not my idea.  I stole it from a friend. And I hesitate even telling anyone about this...but....when I heard about this I jumped in, maybe you will to


After being in Israel for 8 weeks, getting home just in time for Thanksgiving, our time for Christmas shopping and giving was growing shorter every day.  We did not send out our usual basket of Christmas cards complete with picture and letter, we slipped gifts into bags instead of boxes with hand tied big bows, and we said no to many very kind invitations.  We just couldn't get it all together this year.

One of the most important things we do at Christmas is give to Samaritans Purse, Salvation Army, Angel Tree or some of very worthwhile charity.  It's SO fun to participate in those very legitimate organizations.  No time to get all that done.

SO....when my friend suggested a NEW IDEA, we decided to give it a try.

We went to the bank and withdrew $50 bills in the amount we would normally give to a charity. We put each on in a plain envelope with a very Merry Christmas written on the outside. On Christmas Eve afternoon we drove to a neighboring city to the Walmart there.  We were looking for some folks that were stressed, doing last minute shopping, perhaps with children or some lonely look on their face.

WOW!  What fun!

Our first recipient was a very elderly lady, dressed in the Walmart yellow vest pushing a long line of grocery carts toward the door.  She looked stressed, tired and very old.  Why was this woman working on Christmas Eve when she obviously needed to be sitting in her warm home surrounded by loved ones, drinking hot tea or maybe even a hot toddy?  We could only imagine her situation.

Honeybuns approached her, bent over to give her a hug and slipped the envelope into her hand.  Her whole countenance changed instantly.  She stood taller, smiled the biggest smile and her face lit up. She hadn't event opened the envelope yet.  I waved and shouted Merry Christmas and we continued into the store. (We made a vow to hand out the envelopes and move on, not wait for a thank you or even an acknowledgment.)

/#2,  We spotted an older African American lady pushing her car through the store, talking on her phone while shopping.  Her buggy was pretty sparse.  She took off and I followed.  It looked like I was stalking her, no doubt.  I finally caught up with her.  I touched her arm and said, "I hope you have a very Merry Christmas and I'd like to give you this."  She smiled, looked confused and I turned around and walked off.  Several aisles later she found me, insisting on hugging and thanking me. We were experiencing Christmas together right there for those few minutes.  No names exchanged, no other chit chat, no news of my life or hers.....just a simple hug and broad smiles.

#3.  Honeybuns spotted a darling little Mexican family, a mom, a dad and a cute little boy. They were shopping in the toy section but nothing in their cart suggested they'd not yet made a decision. He handed the dad the envelope, wished them a Merry Christmas with a broad smile and handshake.  The child looked up and said, "Thank you!"   He had no idea what he'd been given and it didn't matter to him one whit.

#4.  Another family.  They were very young!  One small child was in their cart with one toy.  The father had a bandage on his ear as if he'd experienced a recent surgery.  I hugged the young mother and handed her the envelope.  She looked confused, maybe she didn't speak English.  I turned and walked away.

Oh my.  We were SO happy. We were walking on air out of that Walmart.  What a fun new tradition.  Next year we're going to get the grands involved in this.  It truly IS more blessed to give than to receive!

Yes....steal this idea!  You will NOT regret it.

WHERE ARE THE WAITERS?

Well...surprise, surprise.  Here we sit at one of the biggest airports in the country, all construction is finished from last year and it is amazing. The International Terminal is designed with the HUNGRY traveler in mind.

As far as the eye can see there are tables of innumerable restaurants offering every delicacy imaginable.  The roundabout is populated by upscale eateries most of which I've never known existed.  What fun, just trying to decide what/where to have lunch.

It was about noontime and the crowd was unusually light, we're thinking hurricane FLO has caused flights to neighboring southern cities to be cancelled.  So....not many folks to "people watch."
Not many waiters or waitresses either.

Take a look at the picture.  Those rectangular Ipads at EVERY seat are the new waive.  No waiter needed, you just look at the pictures on the screen, choose your favorite, tap the picture, tap the drink you want and  SLIDE your credit card through the little machine on the side.  WOW, what fun.  The age of the Jetsons' has arrived.   Magically, in just a few minutes the ONE HUMAN carrier delivers the steaming hot meal to your table.

YES, THE ONE HUMAN BEING present, shoots out of the kitchen and lunch is served.

GREAT!  RIGHT?...……….REALLY?

All those screens mean NO PEOPLE are needed.

NO JOBS HERE!

Why?   Because the owners of these establishments can buy this technology ONE TIME, install it and the profits start rolling in.

These fascinating screens do it all, without the problems of personalities clashing, mistakes on orders, calling in sick, co-workers jealousies, late arrivals, bad moods, neglect of customer, or any other type of human interaction that takes place when REAL HUMANS do the job instead.

Yep folks!  We did it to ourselves.  The waiters/waitresses have disappeared.  The question is not a "living wage" or "minimum wage"or even "equal pay."  There is NO question at all....there is NO WAGE in this beautiful, efficient, modern, lovely, and tasty new way of serving food.

How many jobs were eliminated by these MANY, MANY SCREENS????

Restaurant businesses are in business to make money!  Period!  Very few business leaders bust it just to give people a place to work. Very few are satisfied to just "break even."  They have to be very innovative and creative to stay in business in order to make a living. When the demanded pay scale hindered that bottom line, the HUMAN BEINGS were gone and the screens were installed

Not fair?  Immoral? Heartless?  Perhaps! But also...reality.

For all you folks that cried, "be careful legislating pay scale, or there will be NO job"....YOU FOLKS ARE NOT SURPRISED.  You told us this was coming.

It's here. Won't be long now until the profession "waitstaff" is gone by the wayside, priced right out of work.

As fun as these screens might be, I miss those young folks already!

JAYWALKING

Jaywalking is a crime!  Yessirree!  I'm speaking from experience.

A few weeks ago I was spending some time with the CO grands when I realized that while they were at school all day I had some free alone time.

As usual, when I am in a new place, I check out the local quilt shops. There are NO quilt shops in Breckenridge,CO  or surrounding areas.  All those skiers and no quilters??  I found that hard to believe, too. BUT...alas....there WAS a quilt shop in Leadville! Leadville was an hour drive up the mountain from Breckenridge but hey....I had plenty of time and Andy's car!

I set my GPS and took off.  It was one of the most beautiful drives I've ever experienced. Soaring snowcapped mountains lined both sides of that very empty, upward highway.  There are several "scenic spots" along the way to stop to take breathtaking pictures.  The scene was inspirational and I found myself smiling at nothing but savoring the beauty all around me.

Leadville is a small town, pop. about 3000.  Because it is "MUD" season in CO, the tourist population was almost nil.  Just as in Breckenridge, only the locals were there.  They were taking a long rest from the busy ski season, most shops were closed, minor repairs and clean-up was the order of business.  Life seemed to move at a snail's pace in Leadville that day.

I arrived at the small Victorian cottage bearing the sign QUILT SHOP.  It was darling and also closed.  The "clock" sign hanging on the doorknob declared, "back at 10:30."  I had more free time.

I drove around to the downtown street...yes, one main street.  No busy shoppers, no traffic, most shop doors were closed and locked up for MUD season. I parked the car and decided to walk the sidewalks.  No parking meters, no traffic, no parked cars visible....just me.

I strolled down the sidewalk on one side of the street, crossed the street and strolled back down toward where I'd parked.  No restaurants open, no shop keepers sweeping out their doorways, no dogs lying in the sun, no locals out walking.....nothing was happening in Leadville.

I crossed the street to the car. A policeman was sitting in his car at the stop sign at a side street, yelling.  At me????  I walked over to him.  "Sir? are you talking to me???"   YES.  You are JAYWALKING and about to cause a wreck!  I looked around.  WRECK?  (Wouldn't you have to have some cars in the road in order for them to hit each other?? I THOUGHT to myself.)

"YES, SIR!  You are absolutely right.  I see the crosswalk, right over there and I can assure  you I will never cross over in the middle of the block again".  We stared at each other.....

I turned and walked to the car....trying VERY HARD not to laugh OUTLOUD.  Are you kidding me?

That young policeman didn't LOOK like Barney Fife, but he must've have been related.

I made my way back to the little Quilt Shop and became instant friends with the elderly shopowner. I relayed my "jaywalking" story to her.  She was appalled, saying, "That new police chief is driving everyone crazy."  And backed up her claim with more funny and frustrating stories.

"New?" I asked.

"yes," she replied, "the old one is in the slammer."

I let that go. I'd had enough small town news for one day.

And THAT my friends is why I love the big city!  If you try to Jaywalk in Dallas, TX it'll be your first and last offense, you'll get killed.

BUT....Jaywalking in a small town on a street with no cars?  That's an AMERICAN right, don't you think?

"It IS WELL"

Horatio Spafford wrote the words to that much loved hymn, "It is Well With My Soul."

 Long ago, he was a prosperous lawyer in Chicago and a pillar in the Presbyterian Church there.  In 1871 he and his wife Anna suffered terribly in the great Chicago fire.  In November of 1873 Anna and the children set sail for Europe and Horatio stayed home to tend to some business affairs.  On December 2nd he received a telegram. It read, "Saved alone. What shall I do?"

The ship had collided with a British vessel and sunk!  Four daughters drowned and Anna survived.  He left for England immediately to bring Anna home.  During the journey while on the sailing ship, he wrote the lyrics to the hymn that would become an anthem testifying to the providence of God.

The Spaffords eventually moved to Jerusalem and formed a Christian society to help people of all faiths and creeds.  The group moved to a large home outside the city walls.  It became a hostel, then a hotel. The Spaffords had more children, one daughter Bertha raised her six children in that house. Today it is a beautiful oasis in the middle of the Muslim section of East Jerusalem and is owned by the Southern Baptist Convention as a house of prayer for all who enter.

The Horatio Spafford story is one that we tell as guides at the Garden Tomb in Jerusalem.  He and his friend Major Gordon were instrumental in locating the "place of the skull" just outside the Garden Gate.  Major Gordons apartment window overlooked the carved rock. There is no doubt that the devout believer Mr. Spafford shared his excitement as they peered over the wall to the old rock quarry where countless lives were lost through horrible crucifixions in days gone by.

Last year as we walked those ancient and troubled streets, we happened upon the gate to the "Bertha Spafford House."  We rang the bell perched on the entrance gate not knowing the history we were about to experience.  An elderly couple that oversees the property gave us a lovely tour of the house and explained it's famous former owners connection.  THIS is the piano that Bertha Spafford owned and perhaps even Horatio himself played that famous song on those very keys.

They asked if I wanted to play that old upright.  YES!  It was in perfect tune and we four sang all the verses of "It is Well With My Soul."  I couldn't help but "see" in my minds eye the children that would have sat there and sung there, the parents that would have patiently taught them the words, & the old lawyer himself choking back tears as he remembered that fateful voyage that snatched his four beautiful daughters from this world. Tears flowed down my face as I contemplated the depth of his sorrow and the depth of his faith.

"When sorrow like sea billows roll...
"Whatever my lot....
"Christ has regarded my helpless estate...
"The clouds be rolled back as a scroll....

No matter what...no matter what.....It Is Well With My Soul.

How trusting, how peaceful, how TRUE.....

Nothing calms the soul like the doctrine of the Sovereignty of God. He's got it....and He's got us in the palm of His mighty hand.

SOVEREIGN......He either IS or He ISN'T!   There is no middle ground.

SINGER IS SINGING AGAIN

This old gal has experienced a resurrection!

She's a treadle Singer Sewing Machine, "Red Eye," model 66, housed in a Victorian Parlor Cabinet, built in 1919.  Yep.. she's 99 years old!

I first met this beauty in Grandma Audrey's attic (rural Illinois) about 50 years ago.  It looked much like it does right now. Grandma Audrey had it up and running so she could go up to the attic to patch heavy coveralls or blue jeans rather than use her brand new fancy Bernia downstairs. ( We think it originally belonged to Great Grandma Braner, the original owner of that country farmhouse. The Singer was moved to the attic when a new ELECTRIC machine arrived one Christmas.  Honeybuns says it was hauled up there when the house was remodeled in the 60's.)

Grandma Audrey was really proud of this machine.  She'd rigged it so it would no longer drop down into the cabinet, for some unknown reason. It worked great in that musty attic, no need for electricity.  Did I say it is a TREADLE?  The seamstress uses her feet to rock a small iron platform at the bottom of the cabinet which in turn causes a wheel to turn which causes the needle to go up and down making a  straight line of stitches. Genius!

It sat in the attic for a long time. Great Grandma Braner died as did her son and his wife and the Singer survived the massive house cleaning after the last funeral.

Dusty, rusty, and locked up from lack of oil and lac of use for 15 more years.

A couple of years ago I met a gal in the Frisco, TX quilt guild that loves and repairs antique sewing machines....and I remembered the "Red Eye" still in the attic of the old home place.  Wouldn't it be something if my new friend could bring it back to life?

I contacted the relatives and it took a small army of men to haul that thing down the tiny staircase to the SUV that would bring it to me. It was a mess and looked pretty hopeless, destined for the land fill.
Was I out of my mind for even bothering with that piece of junk?

After being in the shop over a year and a half it was delivered back to me and installed in that same old cabinet.  It was cleaner, brighter and the rust was gone.

AND it WORKS.  Wow!  The ingenuity of that brilliant design survived the test of time and it  just need to be cleaned, oiled, a few new parts added..... and loved.

Unbelievable!

It's true!  They just don't make them like they used to.  This old gal is strong, stable and has a backbone of iron.  I think it's funny that she'll  outlive all the new computerized, plastic models by years!

SO....if the power goes out I can still sew, if the Chinese hack our electrical grid I can still sew, if I want to relive the "olden" days I can still sew.  It's a new old toy.  I love it.

A BEAUTY at 99!  Maybe there's hope for me too.