This afternoon, I decided to make a social media post about our visitors, in an effort to share something light hearted yet enduring. My post read “Last night about 11:15 pm I heard movement in the back yard near our bedroom window…..two of them dining on and under a pine. These creatures are beautiful and I’m glad our pines offer nourishment in the winter months”. My post got 17 likes, two women agreed regarding their beauty and grace, one family member replied “they would have been beautiful in my freezer”…and two other friends commented how the deer eat their bird seed and fruit trees, but agreed on their beauty.
During my walk today I listened to a podcast teaching how to take care of mental health, using meditation, natural supplements, and exercise as remedies. In a portion of the presentation Andrea talked about how situations come into our lives and no two people will react or respond in the same way. Some will be able to remain positive while others quickly turn to the negative aspects of what’s happening. That made me think about my social media post regarding my neighborhood visitors from last night. I KNOW deer are roaming my property because their footprints are evident by the many criss cross tracks left behind. But knowing and seeing are two different experiences. In my 15 minutes of quiet observation I was allowed to see how they stand strong and erect, their slow methodical wandering through the yard in search of food, long or short gazes to make sure they are safe, and their ability to ignore when a car drives down the side road, drivers completely oblivious to this nighttime feeding activity taking place under our pine tree.
I thought about how my serene moments under a gray nighttime sky gave me peace, contentment, and awe while reactions from my post brought out the pesty behavior they create when eating bird seed and fruit trees, and the benefit of many comfort foods that have venison as a main ingredient. We all have perspective and it seems to stem from our main experience with circumstances.
I thought of our pine trees, too. They serve many purposes for us. They help shield our house from strong winds and noise from passing cars. They provide shade in the summer and strong branches for nesting birds or squirrels. The pine needles that drop and layer the ground beneath are a comfortable place to walk or even sit for a spell. When we need to trim branches, the dried wood is used for summer and fall bonfires. The numerous pine cones that fall to the ground are great kindling for those fires when friends come to roast marshmallows, swap stories, sit under early dusk skies that soon give way to a star studded night, maybe with the moon joining in to pour down light from the heavens.
Perspective, React, Respond. They are all words that provoke deep thought and assign us emotions. Today, I choose to respond with gratefulness for witnessing my nighttime visitors, to actually see them making tracks in the snow rather than missing out on 15 minutes of nature coming to visit. While I don’t enjoy missing a good rest, I’d be disappointed not having the pleasure of their company, even if from my window.
Oh my goodness. Without realizing it and not being full prepared for the array of emotions connected with my current age (68) and being in the 2021 Christmas season, something inside me is brewing, percolating and creating a resonance of feelings colliding between memories from childhood and my desire to enjoy the beauty of Advent as I prepare my mind and heart to celebrate the birth of Christ. My mind was drawn back to childhood and young adult years growing up in Saginaw which had a thriving downtown business district which offered a variety of department stores, mostly owned by an individual family versus a large chain operation. We had Morley Brothers, Heavenrich’s, Weichmann’s, Edwards Men’s Shop, Seitner’s, Jacobson’s, Town & Country, The Village…along with JC Penney, Sears, and Montgomery Ward.
Today, I have been envisioning how Christmas shopping has changed from my days of being a wide eyed child, fascinated by the lights and decor in all the department stores and Christmas carols playing through overhead systems, the beautiful melodies pouring outside to fill snowy streets and sidewalks crowded with shoppers. I can still see and remember with great fondness the Christmas that dad, mom and I went shopping after dinner one night, visiting a crowded downtown that was bursting with happy families carrying packages, scurrying in and out of the stores, all under the streetlights and fresh falling snow. I was old enough to be allowed to shop by myself that evening, as long as I told dad which store I was going to and where we would meet when finished. I can still feel the energy that was created from walking through large groups of other families as we all made our way up and down Genesee Street or Washington Avenue to our favorite stores. Walking a couple blocks or making the jaunt around an entire block to visit Seitner’s or Jacobson’s was worth any amount of time spent on snowy sidewalks. A visit to Weichmann’s was a must as the Christmas decorations hung from the mezzanine dazzled the eye and helped to fill hearts with the beauty of Christmas. Every store, every business was decorated with lights, Christmas trees, window displays to delight small children, and music to herald the person of the season, Christ Himself.
Today, sadly, those kinds of shopping experiences have faded from most of our downtown districts. On numerous visits back to Saginaw, I have noted the decay and vacancy of thriving businesses from its downtown. Many of the buildings are no longer there; they’ve been demolished, replaced with “green space”, while some still stand but they are doing so on the last legs of their brick foundations and cornerstones no longer revered by folks coming to this area of the city. Fortunately, in the last several years, a few new small businesses have opened, a farmer’s market has been birthed along the river near the Saginaw News building, and medical offices are slowly taking over some of the old storefronts. The contrast from vibrant days of the past have been replaced by an empty bleakness as once highly energized seasons of shopping slowly made their way to the growing suburbs.
Also gone from the Christmas past, is the beautiful decor that storeowners took great pride in displaying to entice us into purchasing their wares. Window displays were elaborate and carefully assembled. I can’t remember the last time in recent years the joy of walking past a huge window adorned with beautiful items waiting to be wrapped and placed under a tree. Hearing the traditional sacred Christmas carols has been replaced with silence or merely the secular songs that leave out the Holy One, yet promote a guy wearing a red suit….holiday songs of good cheer and laughter, but not many of the Joy and Hope found in the Christ child.
Christmas experiences have changed in many ways and if I’m not careful, I find I’m allowing myself to be surrounded by their effects, too. I miss not having a downtown to shop. I miss those days when a department store could give me a beautiful memory. I miss crowded sidewalks, snow falling on my head under the lights along the walks. I miss having a sales clerk offering to wrap my purchase in beautiful paper complete with ribbon and bow–for free! And being dismissed with a hearty “Merry Christmas!” I miss Christmases past, but I’m deeply grateful for all the memories I hold dear, ones I cherish, and though I may not be able to recreate them without a nearby downtown shopping district, I am eternally thankful that the Christ child remains my focus as I make my purchases this Christmas, as I do my own wrapping of presents to place under our tree, as I listen to the classic songs that proclaim “Joy to the World, the Lord has come!”
Lights. Snow. Shoppers. Family. Gifts. Decor. They are all good and part of Christmas beauty. To this grown woman sitting here reminiscing about Christmas in the 70s, Christ was our focus then and He remains so this year and years to come. Thank you memories past….for the joy and love that lit up the streets and filled my heart with Christmas warmth.
Looking down Washington Avenue, JC Penney was on the left. Morley Brothers Building is on the right, a neighbor to Second National Bank which took up the corner. Also on the corner, is the Bancroft Building, which was home to a hotel, ballrooms, restaurants, and conference center for many years.
Part of most days for me includes writing out a “to do” list, a practice I’ve developed especially when my schedule may be hectic or quite frankly, the perils of aging that can bring on moments of forgetfulness or fear of neglecting to do something that may cause anxiety if forgotten. So, part of my early morning routine is to grab my small notebook that I use for making my list of things I want to get finished before sitting down in the evening to relax and unwind, to reflect on what my day held. Depending on the day of the week, my list certainly will vary. Some items or jobs that show up are: Food prep * Send card to ____ * Text or call ____ * Laundry * Sweep Floors *Agenda for _____ * Groceries * Exercise
I always cross off the item when I’ve finished the task. I’ve been known to perform a chore that wasn’t on the list and go so far as to add it to the jobs for the mere satisfaction of crossing it off! When discussing with my friend Tiffany this silly action, she admitted she does the same thing! What is with that? How can a small act like that bring a smile to my face considering it’s always done in private and certainly no one is the supervisor or manager of my own “to do” list? Whatever the answer, the bottom line is the good feeling I experience when my pen draws a line through each item on my list. Throwing all logic of trying to understand the human nature behind adding and eliminating things from my list, I know I will continue to work my list in this manner.
Another form of lists comes to mind now that we are in the Season of Advent, the weeks leading up to Christmas. Many families use gift lists as a way to communicate the things each person “wishes”, “wants” or “needs”. When I first joined my husband’s family, my mother-in-law asked me for my Christmas list. This was new for me. My parents never shopped from a list; they chose their gifts based on making choices they thought we kids would enjoy. My MIL was from a different breed; she preferred to purchase near exactly what each person wanted. So, in 1980 I gave her my list of ideas. At least, I thought that’s what I was doing. I gave her a piece of paper with about 6 or 8 “ideas” written down, expecting she would choose 2 or 3 and call it good, done. To my surprise–and embarrassment–she bought just about everything on the list. Little did I know that as a member of my new family. I found myself feeling embarrassed, as already stated, but worrying that I saw her as an opportunist to meet my selfish wants. I had woven some humor into my list, too, by including at the bottom of my list “Mazda RX7” (my favorite dream car ownership at the time) Not to ignore my humor, she bought a model size version of the car….causing a good laugh and cherished memory forty some years later…
I find now that, unlike my parents, I enjoy getting Christmas lists from our own children. They include many great ideas, but one thing has changed. They aren’t written down on paper any longer. They’ve taken on the look of an email or what happened this year, lists drawn up through the technology of Amazon’s site. It was amazingly fun to sit at my laptop, click on items to add to my cart, watch the item disappear from their list, and update for whoever would shop next. Wow, we’ve come a long way from scraps of paper and pens. What hasn’t changed is the joy of buying what each person “wishes”, “wants” or “needs”.
Yes, I use lists. I enjoy making lists. They keep me on track with time management and come in handy when perusing the grocery aisles. Of all the habits I entertain, making and using a list is one of the best activities to help me feel focused and gain a sense of accomplishment at the end of my day. In the past, I’ve posted an ongoing grocery list on our fridge and imagine my chuckles every time I read my husband’s handwriting down in a corner, “smoochies”….
Today, I made my “to do” list after my personal connection time with God. I will do some food prep *cards are ready to be mailed *no laundry until my husband can check the wash tub which overflowed earlier in the week * banking * get in a walk (mail those cards) * write my blog (check!) * order a couple more Christmas gifts…..and look forward to each item with a line drawn neatly through it, an indication of another day full with small chores that bring big rewards and a smile to my face as I sit down later this evening under the warmth of a throw blanket and cup of hot tea to seal the moments of jobs well done.
I have discovered that I am not good at waiting. Another word for my character flaw may be that I am impatient. Yes, if I am being totally honest, which is very difficult at times, I do not do well in situations or seasons of life that have caused me to be out of my own control and submissive to circumstances around me. Some of those outside influences cannot be changed, like for instance the calendar. I don’t know of anyone who can close their eyes and make the day of the week flip to the next, leaving behind the hours that go into the completion of one 24 hour period. Note: In the 7th grade I tried “willing” the clock to stand still in my math class so I could avoid going to my home economics class to face trying to repair a bad sewing project…that’s another topic…No, try as any one of us might, there is no magic strong enough to speed up or slow down time, thus learning how to “wait” becomes a test many of us are required to face in life to see how we fare.
With today being the last day of November, indicating that the calendar WILL flip to December, I had a memory pop into my mind while I was making our bed. As I was pulling up the sheet and blankets, neatly tucking in pillow shams and placing our decorative pillows, I suddenly remembered the first time–probably the ONLY occurrence–that I stood in line to sit on Santa’s lap and whisper in his ear my long list of gifts he should bring me. I was with my mother that afternoon when I saw Santa in his big chair surrounded by Christmas decorations, lights, and a line of kids waiting to talk to him. I begged my mother to let me get in line. I’m sure she had better things to do than stand around with an impatient little girl, but she gave in and we joined the line. I could not wait to have my turn! We inched up slowly, counting off with our eyes as each girl or boy took their turn on Santa’s lap, leaving with big smiles and clutching a peppermint candy cane that Santa gave to each child when waving bye and yelling “ho ho ho”. In the busyness of standing in the line, swaying back and forth on my feet, getting warm under my heavy coat and building anticipation, I saw it was my turn, and I froze. Santa motioned for me to come, jump up on his big lap…mom said, “Susan, it’s your turn”. But I remained frozen in time, unwilling to oblige to what was required of me to share my long list of Christmas wishes.
If I recall correctly, it was a long quiet ride home from Green Acres Plaza, the Federal Department Store where I attempted to talk to Santa. Mom was NOT happy with me. I’m pretty sure I got a scolding about “how I begged her” to visit Santa, and also the time we wasted “waiting” when we could have been home, perhaps to get a start on our dinner which was always promptly served at 5:20 pm.
I’m also pretty sure I never asked to stand in another Santa line for the remainder of my childhood. My one attempt to include him in my waiting for Christmas to arrive, showed me I didn’t trust myself to sit on a stranger’s lap no matter how fun and exciting it looked to me. Over time I realized I didn’t need Santa to get some of my favorite Christmas gifts from a long list that was compiled with some help from the annual Sears & Roebuck Christmas catalogue. And I certainly realized that I didn’t need to face the ire of my mother year after year when she had better things to do than wait in a long line of children jumping at a chance to talk to a storefront Santa. But, I’m thankful she gave it a whirl that one time. It’s become a good memory, my face all lit up as I inched forward to my turn with Santa, and the look on my mother’s face when I refused to sit on his lap, and that long quiet ride home…..which became a topic at that evening’s dinner table.
“Jack, let me tell you about Susan’s visit with Santa this afternoon…..” Her words are a very dim echo in my mind these 60 some years later, but the memory of that weekday afternoon still warms me much like standing in the long line in a department store wearing a heavy winter coat, and waiting.
I have discovered that I am not good at waiting. Another word for my character flaw may be that I am impatient. Yes, if I am being totally honest, which is very difficult at times, I do not do well in situations or seasons of life that have caused me to be out of my own control and submissive to circumstances around me. Some of those outside influences cannot be changed, like for instance the calendar. I don’t know of anyone who can close their eyes and make the day of the week flip to the next, leaving behind the hours that go into the completion of one 24 hour period. Note: In the 7th grade I tried “willing” the clock to stand still in my math class so I could avoid going to my home economics class to face trying to repair a bad sewing project…that’s another topic…No, try as any one of us might, there is no magic strong enough to speed up or slow down time, thus learning how to “wait” becomes a test many of us are required to face in life to see how we fare.
With today being the last day of November, indicating that the calendar WILL flip to December, I had a memory pop into my mind while I was making our bed. As I was pulling up the sheet and blankets, neatly tucking in pillow shams and placing our decorative pillows, I suddenly remembered the first time–probably the ONLY occurrence–that I stood in line to sit on Santa’s lap and whisper in his ear my long list of gifts he should bring me. I was with my mother that afternoon when I saw Santa in his big chair surrounded by Christmas decorations, lights, and a line of kids waiting to talk to him. I begged my mother to let me get in line. I’m sure she had better things to do than stand around with an impatient little girl, but she gave in and we joined the line. I could not wait to have my turn! We inched up slowly, counting off with our eyes as each girl or boy took their turn on Santa’s lap, leaving with big smiles and clutching a peppermint candy cane that Santa gave to each child when waving bye and yelling “ho ho ho”. In the busyness of standing in the line, swaying back and forth on my feet, getting warm under my heavy coat and building anticipation, I saw it was my turn, and I froze. Santa motioned for me to come, jump up on his big lap…mom said, “Susan, it’s your turn”. But I remained frozen in time, unwilling to oblige to what was required of me to share my long list of Christmas wishes.
If I recall correctly, it was a long quiet ride home from Green Acres Plaza, the Federal Department Store where I attempted to talk to Santa. Mom was NOT happy with me. I’m pretty sure I got a scolding about “how I begged her” to visit Santa, and also the time we wasted “waiting” when we could have been home, perhaps to get a start on our dinner which was always promptly served at 5:20 pm.
I’m also pretty sure I never asked to stand in another Santa line for the remainder of my childhood. My one attempt to include him in my waiting for Christmas to arrive, showed me I didn’t trust myself to sit on a stranger’s lap no matter how fun and exciting it looked to me. Over time I realized I didn’t need Santa to get some of my favorite Christmas gifts from a long list that was compiled with some help from the annual Sears & Roebuck Christmas catalogue. And I certainly realized that I didn’t need to face the ire of my mother year after year when she had better things to do than wait in a long line of children jumping at a chance to talk to a storefront Santa. But, I’m thankful she gave it a whirl that one time. It’s become a good memory, my face all lit up as I inched forward to my turn with Santa, and the look on my mother’s face when I refused to sit on his lap, and that long quiet ride home…..which became a topic at that evening’s dinner table.
“Jack, let me tell you about Susan’s visit with Santa this afternoon…..” Her words are a very dim echo in my mind these 60 some years later, but the memory of that weekday afternoon still warms me much like standing in the long line in a department store wearing a heavy winter coat, and waiting.
Before Halloween is but a blip on the radar, here and gone before we know it, November shows up with a mere flip of calendar pages full of photos containing colorful tree scenes, sunrises and sunsets, cornucopias, images of tables laden with luscious looking foods, all that is familiar to families in America signifying that Thanksgiving will soon be upon us. Ads on television and radio show us happy families traveling miles by car or air to be with loved ones on this hallowed Thursday. Stores entice us with sale notices for the foods we all enjoy, the turkey, cranberries (maybe?), stuffing, pumpkin pie…green bean casserole according to our son….and then there’s the football games, and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade. All this, and more, are what has evolved into carving (no pun intended) out memories centered on a big bird in the middle of the table, or chicken, or ham…whatever is your choice meat. (Two years ago we enjoyed homemade reuben sandwiches on Thanksgiving!)
As I think about and reflect about Thanksgiving, I decided to do a brief search as to its origin. Below is one link that has a lengthy article well worth reading. Be prepared to undo many of your preconceived notions about this wonderful holiday as well as recall what you were taught in grade school.
What do you remember being taught in your elementary school days? For me, even at age 68 now, I can vividly remember hearing stories about the Pilgrims who arrived on our eastern shore, their struggles through a harsh winter, preparing a feast of turkey, corn, squash, pies, etc. and inviting local Indians (yes, that’s what we called this people group back in the 50s and 60s with no one telling us to “wake up”! They’re Native Americans!) I can still see school age me cutting out pilgrim hats, turkeys, pumpkins from a variety of construction paper colors that became wall art in our classroom. Listening to the stories, making things to illustrate the Thanksgiving story were all a part of the third week in November year after year. Foremost in the lessons being taught, was the main message of “gratitude”. I was taught that the Pilgrims were “thankful” for surviving hardship and how God had provided for them.
I don’t remember anyone in my community being upset that we called the Indians, Indians. No one got angry that birds were being raised and processed to be on thousands, if not millions, of tables. No one in my circle of family and friends got upset that “God” was part of the story in my neighborhood elementary school lesson plans….Black Friday sales were non-existent and I don’t ever recall my family flipping on the TV to watch anything….trappings of today’s current culture were not present in our home….for that I am grateful. My being grateful then, as a small little girl, hasn’t ended. Trying to bombard my fond memories, though, is a society and culture–a segment of us–who want me to refer to Indians as Native Americans or Indiginous Peoples or First Nation. I’ve said to myself “Ok”, the label doesn’t change the fact these are God’s people, too. My elementary school teachers meant no harm or disrespect by referring to these beautiful people as “Indians”. Truth be told, if I had to choose any description, I like “First Nation”. It has a certain sound and depth to it. Second truth be told, I’d have to study history to see if I can find what group of people are considered as being “first” to settle on our vast country land.
Folks who are against animal cruelty don’t want us meat eaters to enjoy our turkey or ANY meat from an animal. I’m okay if you want to be a vegetarian, all I ask is you allow me to enjoy beef or poultry. Atheists and agnostics don’t want God to be part of anything involving government, schools, universities, holidays!–you name a place where integrity, honesty, and genuine concern for every human being belongs–you’ll find someone who opposes what is holy and right.
So, how does gratitude fit in with my writing today? I’m grateful for my education, for growing up in a family and neighborhood filled with like minded adults doing their best to raise good kids. I’m grateful I was taught to love every person without labeling them. I’m grateful I’ve never gone without shelter or a meal. I’m grateful that in almost two years being surrounded by a new virus, I have remained healthy. I’m grateful that my life ambitions don’t include adding more “stuff”, things that rot, decay, or break or need dusting! I’m grateful–above all–that God remains my true source of hope, love, encouragement, and guidance for everyday life–even though He is not welcome or loved in return by many in my own extended family or community. I’m grateful that I allow God to shape my thoughts, my actions, my opinions and not someone trying to “wake” me up or “spin me” or “rewrite” some components of history in order to make ME feel bad.
Yes, I. Am. Grateful.
We will make the drive to one of our nephew’s homes to celebrate Thanksgiving Day 2021 with family. There will be turkey, potatoes, stuffing, pies….maybe a football game on their big screen…I’ll look to see if our great nephews made any art projects that may be hanging in the kitchen. And I’ll ask them, “So, what do you know about Thanksgiving? More importantly my next question will be “what are you thankful for?”….
“smoochies”….
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