Christmas at the Lake

By

Anna Lauren Lull

‘Twas the night before Christmas Eve

And all thru the place,

Not a person was stirring

Not a single face.

The dogs were asleep,

Snoring, Oh, quite loudly.

Everyone was asleep,

Dreaming, Oh, quite gladly.

Grammy and Papa

Were snug in their bed,

While we ran downstairs

With a tired head.

We waited and waited

For Santa to arrive.

He didn’t,

So we started to cry.

Then we realized

It was Christmas Eve.

I guess we have to wait

Another night to see!

Experiencing Christmas

Woolen socks warmed the feet of the WWII soldier stationed in Kodiak Island, Alaska and, later, served as his children’s Christmas stockings. Each year oranges filled the toes beneath new underwear and socks. Nuts scattered among the empty spaces.The small Christmas tree, cut with a hatchet at the family farm, provided a cover for gifts and a backdrop for ornaments. In the South, no one dreamed of a white Christmas, but everyone knew all the verses to all the carols. Christmas was simply magical for my brother and me.

Where do we find Christmas today? Volunteering for the live manger scene at your church. Visiting Aunt Sarah on Christmas morning, because she loved you so when you were young. Baking cookies for the school’s lunchroom ladies. Slipping into the back of a church in Salzburg where Silent Night was first performed and listening reverently as it is played once again. Hanging the family pets’ ornaments on the tree with your grandchildren. Reading ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas to children too excited to sleep. Tiptoeing to your parents’ bedroom to whisper “Thanks” as soon as Santa goes up the chimney. Getting a puppy on Christmas Eve. Sending a Christmas card with a “real” family photo.

Christmas isn’t found on Black Friday or Cyber Monday. It was never meant to leave us broke, haggard, exhausted, or disappointed. Christmas is that once-a-year time when we have permission to seek the very best of ourselves and others. Where do we look? Christmas is waiting amid the season’s simply magical experiences.

With love from our family,

      Gay and Tim

      Jeremy, Jennifer, Anna Lauren (10) and Leighton (5)

      Evan, Krissy, Keegan (16) and Aiden (5)

      Rachel, BJ, Tyler (12), Wynn (6) and Blakely (3)

      Ted, Shelley and Bryan (13)

Veterans’ Day

Like other men of the Greatest Generation, my dad was an ordinary man who never understood that he did an extraordinary thing.  

After enlisting in the Alabama National Guard, he was sent to Alaska, never before having even been outside Madison County. He slept in a tent surrounded by snow until barracks could be built. He spent three years on Kodiak Island before going to France for another year of service. As a medic, he tended to German prisoners of war as well as Allied soldiers. When he finally returned home, he seldom spoke of the war, preferring to let the memories bury themselves. At the end of his life, he spoke of little else.

Daddy wasn’t an anomaly. He was a poor farm boy from Alabama and an American patriot. His idea of protesting the injustice of Nazi Germany and the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor was to do what he could to make things right. He was not alone. American Veterans have for decades been the guardians of the world, an often thankless task both at home and abroad.

Veterans have ensured every American’s right to protest, but protest alone and without positive action is futile.  Whether it is refusing to stand for the national anthem or screaming at the sky, protest as a single act accomplishes little. The valor comes in the hard work that renders the protest no longer necessary.

Will today’s protester, upon reaching the end of life, realize that change required donating the millions to a worthwhile cause, working with principled organizations, or joining the military to protect everyone’s rights? Realization followed by regret? Perhaps then would be the time to scream at the sky.

Traveling—

The Easy Way or the Hard Way

Dear Leighton,

Thank you for joining our Canada trip. I truly admire your determination to get yourself on the trip at the eleventh hour. When you threatened Bryan with “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” I didn’t realize the warning extended to the rest of us. Nevertheless, everyone loved your last-minute surprise that enabled us to hone our mountain-moving and hoop-jumping skills.

Papa and I were at dinner with Uncle Ted and Aunt Shelley when we learned the news. Bryan and Tyler were almost as surprised as we were. I returned to the airport hotel to call Delta about a ticket for you and was still on hold with them two hours later when you finally arrived.

Upon reflection, your dad dodged a bullet (figuratively and perhaps literally) when he knocked on the guestroom door at the wrong hotel.  Luckily, the man who answered at 10 pm wasn’t armed.  Your dad really should pay more attention to my texts.

Speaking of your dad, I doubt he even remembers that he had already paid for a seat on the 7:30 am flight to Boston and had to spend your college fund for those ridiculously expensive last-minute tickets.  I’m sure he didn’t mind sprinting to every gate in the Atlanta Airport for 12-hours trying to fly standby. What a bonding experience the two of you had in that Delta Lounge! And the picture of you asleep in your lunch plate was just too cute.

I regret that you didn’t get to Boston in time to join us at the Union Oyster House. It is a famous old seafood restaurant, and your sister ordered a grilled cheese sandwich. By the way, you would have loved walking through the globe at the Mary Baker Eddy Library. Someone will probably take you back to Boston one day.

You were very mature when you learned Anna Lauren was going to the Paul Revere House, and you had to go to the USS Constitution with me. Of course, most 5-year-olds don’t know who Paul Revere is. Or the horse he rode in on.

Your behavior on the cruise couldn’t have been better. I do, however, apologize for Uncle Ted. Other cruise ships allow shorts in the main dining room on embarkation day. Your dad’s salmon would have tasted better had it been served during in the first hour we were in the dining room, but you were finished with your kids’ meal by the time the two of you left for the buffet.

I’m glad you enjoyed the ventriloquist show. I had no idea dummies wanted to be called “Mannequin-Americans”. I learn something new every day.

Did you notice that you didn’t really get a headache when I made you to go the kids’ club?

Those two girls who sat next to you on the back seat of Ollie’s Trolley in Bar Harbor were just plain rude. No one should pay good money for a tour and then talk over the guide. I was pleased and relieved that you didn’t offer them the easy way or the hard way.

The picture of you next to the Big Fiddle in Sydney, Nova Scotia turned out quite well.

As for an update on Papa, swallowing the hearing aid battery instead of the sea sickness pill hasn’t produced any harmful symptoms. I’m not sure if it was more embarrassing than getting himself locked in the bathroom of the gelato shop in Malaga, Spain, but you could ask him.

Thank you for following, and exceeding, our one rule of cruising. Eating ice cream every day.

I  wanted all the kids to see Quebec City. We would have been on time to meet Duncan, the tour guide, if only I’d realized that the funicular was so close by. The walk to the summit was a killer. Uncle Ted was just to about to forgive me for the three-hour jungle hike last summer. Maybe next year.

I’m glad you enjoyed Niagara Falls even though you were too young to ride the zipline with Bryan, Tyler, and Anna Lauren. Thank Aunt Shelley for the trip to Ripley’s Believe It or Not. I went because I felt guilty sending her by herself with so many kids. Those nightmares you are experiencing after seeing the shrunken heads, the three-legged man, and the woman with the discs in her lips should subside soon.

And while you are at it, thank Aunt Shelley for that bubble bath. We were all praying that she would be able to find you under there. Fortunately, her hair calmed down and no longer looks like a bad perm.

Also, thank Tyler for the piggy-back rides and Bryan for cooperating during big-brother week. The boys decided to take the easy way.

Leighton Belle, you are one of a kind.

Daughters

Wisdom smiled as the answer

drifted on the mist.

"It matters not how they arrive,

The results are the same.

A spirit’s touch so recognizable,

 So familiar, you think it your own.

Comfort comes in knowing that,

If properly nurtured,

The bond is unbreakable.

Neither time nor distance

Has a measurable effect.

Understanding without explanation,

Loving without conditions,

Sacrificing without expectation,

Encompass the heart.

The primal longing for eternity,

For days without end,

Never to be forgotten,

To have mattered to someone.

Daughters."

Satisfied, she turned away.

In Memoriam

William Parks

A Good Man

They often spoke during that time of dreaminess.

Questions, some philosophical, some direct,

As though a final decision hinged on the answer.

“What is the measure of a good man?” he asked tentatively.

Without hesitation came the reply.

“Adherence to those ideals found across continents.

Principles transcending time and distance.

Unequivocal codes rooted in honesty, integrity, and loyalty.

Goodness recognizing evil.

Gentle humor overshadowing hostility.

Willingness to forgive.

Regrets? The catalyst to do better next time.

Imperfection? The evidence of humanity.

Love surpassing indifference.

 “How can mortal man achieve all this in one lifetime?”

“Many have no desire; others, no example.”

“But, what if…”

“Stop there,” came the tender voice.

“Yours has not been simply the life of a good man;

Yours has been extraordinary.

Now it is time to come home.

Well done, my good and faithful servant.”