My oldest, “What’s that smell?”
It was at that moment that I too smelled it. I also saw the truck up head and we were closing in rapidly. The smell was also growing…exponentially.
“It’s that truck up ahead.”
We got closer…
The smell got stronger…
And closer…
Stronger…
I wanted something new…
Something different…
Something that would stick in their little minds and hearts…
Something worth remembering…
I wanted to start a new Christmas tradition, something for “my children.” I wanted something to encompass, fully, who they are and allow them to experience Christmas.
We have traditions.
We have Santa. Santa DOES come to our house and bring gifts, but he’s never overly extravagant.
We have an elf and a shepherd. My kids enjoy them both. Neither are naughty. They both encourage my kids to have a giving spirit and spread the true love and purpose of the Christmas season.
I let the kids purchase or make small gifts for each other, for their father and me, and for their grandparents.
We always pick out a real tree for the family and the kids get to decorate one of their own.
We read stories and sing songs.
We do advent activities and make ornaments.
We bake cookies and candy.
We sing Happy Birthday to Jesus on Christmas morning.
It’s all fun. I LOVE it ALL. But I needed something that was unique to “them.” Continue reading “Seeking the Greatest Treasure”
“Are we there yet?”
“No.”
“When will we be there?”
“When we get there.”
“Is it the next stop sign?”
“Not even close.”
“How much farther?”
“305 miles.”
“How many feet is that?”
Really? Did she just ask me that? She really DID ask me that. She told me to “Google it.” She’s five.
Every journey is paved with anticipation. Some journeys are filled with an eagerness to arrive, others with anxiety for the trip and what lies ahead. We all want to know, “When are we going to get there?”
I like old houses. They are intriguing.
Do you know the kind of houses that I am talking about? The kinds that are vacant, varying stages of repair. Some have been refurbished, others are just a shell of what once was, barely holding together. You wonder how much longer it can stand before finally letting go. I’m referring to the old houses that you look at and think, “Wow! In its day, I bet that was an AWESOME house.”
Not only are they fun to photograph and walk through, but sometimes I find myself just staring through the old windows and wondering…
I’ve been seeing a lot of cute posts and pictures, reading a lot of words of kindness and encouragement, for delivery men this season. I get it. Trust me!!! I am eternally thankful to MY delivery guys AND GALS for all the hard work that they put in, especially during the Christmas season. I, a stay-home, homeschooling mom of four children, rarely get the chance to go to a store alone, like NEVER. I have ordered all my gifts this year…and last year…and the year before. I am on the “Thank a Delivery Guy” bandwagon and I am tooting the horn…the kids are banging the drums.
BUT, I want to take it a step further…further UP the chain…
I’d also like to shine the spotlight on another group of people…a very LARGE, incredibly important group of people. You could say that they are the grease that keeps the crazy mouse-wheel that we are on spinning. They are overlooked A LOT. In fact, they are often looked down on. They are grumbled and complained about more often than any positive or loving word is said about them….at least from the mouths and keyboards of people that I see.
The Santas that I want to tip my hat to remain hidden away, behind the scenes.
Truck drivers.
No, not just DELIVERY truck drivers, but also the big-rigs, 18-wheelers, over the road truckers. These are the drivers who sleep in dark truck stops or vacant lots, away from their families for weeks, sometimes months, on end. Most of them don’t know from one day to the next where their “home” is going to be parked, it’s all dictated by the all-powerful clock. They are battling a schedule that was borderline impossible to keep, right from the start of their current run.
Peanut Butter in My Hairbrush 