Spread the Christmas Joy with Linda Wood Rondeau and Giveaway | Day 6

Joy From Linda Wood Rondeau

There is a reason I do Christmas with a small fiber-optic tree.

I hold my now twelve-year old cat and reflect back to that day when I surrendered my will to a bundle of fur. Six-month-old Duffer, our adopted orange and white kitten loved the excitement of the six-foot tree as I adorned it with my Christmas memories. He batted away, believing the tree was his new toy. I tried to explain to him that these ornaments he had knocked off the bottom limb were very precious to me. My husband laughed. “Do you really think he understands?”

I tossed Duffer his favorite catnip mouse. Diversion had always worked for my two-year-old. When I plugged in the lights, he bounded in, sniffed at the tree, stretched his torso three branches up and batted on the relocated ornaments until one by one, they plopped to the floor.

Like my GPS, I decided to recalculate.

I sat by the tree with a water pistol. Duffer stared me down, stretched his torso as far as he could reach. I aimed and fired.

“I win!” I said as he scooted.

Not for long. He sauntered back in, and stretched to full measure yet again, this time merely blinking when I sprayed him.

“We’re not finished, yet, Cat.”

Next I tried aroma, a cat-deterrent spray that smelled like ammonia, highly recommended by cat trainers everywhere. Unfortunately, the spray was equally offensive to humans. I admired my undisturbed tree amidst coughs and gagging. At least for awhile.

“Get down from there,” I yelled. I’d never screamed at my kitty before. He looked at me with sad eyes as if to say, “Now, how could you possibly talk like that to someone as cute as I am?”

He stayed away for a few hours. When I went back to the living room later that day, Duffer had managed to find another napping place near the top of the tree.

“Duffer!” I yelled. He jumped. Like Jill of the nursery rhyme, the tree came tumbling after.

The next day I bought a three-foot fiber optic and the rest is history.

Christmas is now enjoyed by all.

When I remember Duffer’s first Christmas and his insistence to find his place among the inviting branches, I think of how God woos us, relentless in His pursuit for our Love. So much so, He sent his only Son to show us the way to Him.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.

Authors Note: Since this writing, Duffer has since passed on. But he still leaves a huge imprint in our hearts.

___________________________________

Winner of the 2012 Selah Award for best first novel The Other Side of Darkness/Harbourlight, LINDA WOOD RONDEAU, writes stories of God’s mercies. Walk with her unforgettable characters as they journey paths not unlike our own. After a long career in human services, Linda now resides in Jacksonville, Florida.

Linda’s best-selling Adirondack Romance, It Really IS a Wonderful Life, is published by Lighthouse of the Carolinas and is available wherever books are sold. Her next releases were her devotional book, I Prayed for Patience God Gave Me Children and Days of Vines and Roses.

Joy Comes to Dinsmore Street and A Christmas Prayer have been released in time for the Christmas Season. Songs in the Valley/ Helping Hands Press. Will be released in late 2013 or early 2014.

Readers may visit her web site at www.lindarondeau.com or email her at lindarondeau@gmail.com or find her on Facebook, Twitter, PInterest, LinkedIn, Google Plus and Goodreads. 

 I love writing little notes and have an affinity for vintage...well, anything! Today's giveaway features a festive red doily and a fun Christmas-tree decorated note pad both with a vintage feel - perfect for leaving notes for friends or loved ones. 

**Giveaway rules: To enter, comment on each the post (or posts) in the month of December that offer giveaway items you wish to win. One entry per person per giveaway item is permitted. All winners will be drawn in January (after the holiday craziness) and will be notified shortly thereafter.

Spread the Christmas Joy with Diane Dean White | Day 5

Joy with Diane Dean White

"A White Christmas"

The fifties was a time when so much was changing in our country. Many men had recently returned from WWII, and jobs were available with so much progress starting up, and new ideas booming everyday. I was in awe of our first television set. The screen was hardly more than 12” wide, but the wood that surrounded it was a beautiful polished oak. The only shows I recall were “I Love Lucy”, “Howdy Doody” and the shampoo and soap commercials.

The house where I grew up was a large older home that sat on a street with a sorority house on one corner and a fraternity house on the other. We lived across from the main entrance to Michigan State College (now University). My parents rented rooms to students, and we made some interesting friends from other states. The dividends were reaped in years to follow, as many of those students stayed in touch with Mom and Dad, and would often visit them, or invite them to their homes.

During the Christmas holiday we had the house to ourselves, college was over and the guys, who stayed with us, went home to their own families. As soon as it was “just us” again, we went to the tree farm and cut down a Christmas tree to take home. The lights were the size of large eggs, and we always used silver tinsel and some homemade ornaments. We had a star for the top of the tree and after decorating it; we’d turn off the living room lights, step back and look up at the beautiful Christmas tree. There were no gifts around the tree at that time; they usually appeared a night or two before Christmas, so not tempt young eyes and hands from checking the contents. My favorite time was early morning when it was still dark and I would creep down stairs to plug in the tree lights. I’d just sit next to the tree in my nightgown and robe and watch the lights and enjoy the quiet of the early morning, with anticipation of what Santa would soon bring.

A trip to the city and a favorite large department store where children stood in line for a special visit with Santa was always a favorite adventure. After telling him our hearts desires, we’d get a candy cane from Santa’s elf and return to Mother sharing our talk with jolly old St. Nick. Christmas in the city was thrilling. There were streets of stores and red kettles with volunteers ringing bells to donate change to help others. Even the Peanut Man appeared and would walk up and down the busy sidewalk with samples that drew people to the popular store with the wonderful smell. Clerks were dressed up, many men wore bow ties, and there were a variety of special sales going on, with music that filled the air at every turn.

A memory I will never forget is the night we went to see the new movie “White Christmas.” We took the bus after Dad got home, and rode the 30 minute ride to the city. After looking at all the decorative window displays on the main street, we walked to the movie theatre and watched the movie on the large screen. It hadn’t snowed a lot that year, and this was a few days before Christmas. After the ending song “White Christmas” that became so popular, we left with a happy feeling from the movie we had just seen. Upon entering the outside, which we assumed would be a dark evening; we were welcomed by the glitter and beauty of a fabulous Winter Wonderland! It must have snowed hard during the long film, and with the excitement of the special movie and the freshness of the new white snow; it was like a magical scene I’ll never forget.

A number of years have gone by since that time, and although many memories stand out and are remembered with fondness, there is something about that night, and our family together that has remained in my heart since. Whenever I see a rerun of “White Christmas”, or hear the song, my mind goes back to a time in the 50’s when simple things were somehow the best of all. I thank God for the memories that were stored in the heart of a very young girl so long ago.

“May your days be merry and bright; and may all your Christmases be White”

____________________________

Diane started her writing career at an early age when she asked for a typewriter for Christmas. She pounded the keys writing poetry and short stories in grade school on an old black Royal manual. Grateful when she took a summer typing class a few years later, she could type on an electric typewriter. It wasn’t until her husband’s work took them to a southern town she wrote her first column, “Yankee Viewpoint’s” for a local newspaper, covering hard news and feature stories in the area. Returning to their home-state of Michigan, she did stringer work, ancestral history, and donor appeal letters for non-profit organizations; while doing her favorite job ever, as a stay-at-home Mom. She is the author of Beach Walks and Carolina in the Morning. Diane was a columnist for a weekly magazine, for four years, and her stories have appeared in a number of magazines and books. She is the author of over three-hundred short stories. Her book, newly released, On a Summer Night, is a story of suspense and romance. She and hubby, Stephen, have been married for forty-one years, and they are the parents of three grown children and three grand-gals. Diane thanks the Lord daily for her loving husband, three great kids and for giving her the desires of her heart.

Visit Diane on her website at www.DianeDeanWhite.com

Her blog page at http://simplepleasureswithdiane.weebly.com/
Her ministry, Seeds of Encouragement, for hurting people. http://www.dianedeanwhite.com/seedsofencouragement.html
https://www.facebook.com/diane.d.white.75?ref=tn_tnmn
Purchase her book [here]

Spread the Christmas Joy with James Callan and Giveaway | Day 4

Joy from James Callan

-->Our second Christmas in Connecticut promised to be special. The new house on Great Hill fronted a quiet lake. The kids had helped refinish and paint a small row boat which they could easily manage. If it turned cold enough and the lake froze, the ice skates would come out. And, though they didn’t know it, they were going to have a very special gift—a horse.
The selection process proved to be complicated. A small mare named Trouble pawed the ground, snorted, and would have bitten me had I not been considerably quicker than I am now. A second horse, Lightening, slept through the interview. The next candidate, Cara, passed with flying colors—until price entered the picture. Eventually, I found a beautiful, roan with a gentle disposition named Cheyenne.

I made arrangements to have Cheyenne transported to a small stable not far from our house. Now I had to buy a saddle. There were western saddles and eastern saddles, but no southern saddles. I discovered Western meant big and comfortable while eastern meant small and uncomfortable. Then came a bridle, blankets, a source for hay, etc..

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, with visions of sugar plumbs dancing in their heads. I slipped out, sneaked down a half mile to the stable, lead Cheyenne to our place, and tied him securely to a bush outside the front of the house.

Our property slopped down to a beautiful lake. So while the main floor of the house was at ground level away from the lake, it projected out eight feet above the ground on the lake side. Leaving Cheyenne in front of the house kept him well below the sight lines from bedrooms and living room where the tree twinkled and presents waited impatiently to be unwrapped.

The kids rose before the sun, leaping from deep sleep to hyper-active as quick as a sneeze, clamoring to see what Santa had deposited in our living room.

Christmas and presents, even if meager, generate excitement and screams of joy. This Christmas was somewhat subdued. In truth, Santa had not been as generous as had been his habit. So, while it’s not fair to say they were disappointed, well – it didn’t take long to open Santa’s leavings.

After a slight delay, wanting them to enjoy the non-horse items, I invited them to follow me outside. This actually made the Christmas offerings look better and difficult to leave. But since I knew how excited they would be over the horse, I persisted. We exited the back and I led them around to the front of the house.

Triumphantly, we rounded the corner to find—nothing. No horse. No Cheyenne. No saddle, no blanket, no bridle.

I was stunned. Horse thieves in Ridgefield? The kids, not knowing what to expect, just looked at me expectantly. What was my big surprise? I knew what my surprise was. No Cheyenne. I surveyed the area. Not only was the horse missing, the large bush he had been tied to was gone as well. Why would rustlers take my bush?

I mumbled some nonsense and sent the kids back inside to play with their meager cache. I headed out, becoming a cunning tracker. There were a few signs, some of which I won’t describe. After only a quarter mile, I heard the sound I had expected earlier—excited children. Rounding a clump of cedars, there was Cheyenne—as well as two young kids thrilled with a newfound present Santa had left for them outside.

I eased up, said some soothing, cheerful things to the young boy and girl, and tried to take the reins. They clutched the leather tighter, accusing me of trying to steal their Christmas present. I explained to them what had happened, but I remained the evil Grinch. The boy’s cries now surpassed the girl’s and people on the other side of the water came out to see what evil was invading Rainbow Lake.

Trouble was closer at hand. An angry mother burst out of the nearby house, ready to kill the person trying to kidnap, or otherwise harm, her children. She was followed by a big, burly man, surely seven feet tall, whose eyes did not show the Christmas spirit.

The woman ran to her children, shielding them from evil me, questioning them about what I had done. The man, his Paul Bunyan legs needing few steps to traverse the distance, began grilling me.

Between sobs, the children managed to get out that I was taking their horse. With the aid of the one rein still attached to the bush, I described how Cheyenne uprooted his hitching post and wandered down to their yard.

The mother’s explanation did not cheer the children but they were somewhat mollified when I promised to bring Cheyenne down and let them ride him later in the day.

When I once more enticed the kids outside to meet Cheyenne, Christmas became a lot brighter. He was a big hit, and continued to be their favorite, even when a year later, a younger, more beautiful buckskin named Major, joined Cheyenne in the family circus.

______________________________

After a successful career in mathematics and computer science, receiving grants from the National Science Foundation and NASA, and being listed in Who’s Who in Computer Science and Two Thousand Notable Americans, James R. Callan turned to his first love—writing. He wrote a monthly column for a national magazine for two years, and published several non-fiction books. He now concentrates on his favorite genre, mysteries, with his sixth book releasing in Spring, 2014.



Website: www.jamesrcallan.com
Blog: www.jamesrcallan.com/blog
Amazon Author page: http://amzn.to/1eeykvG
Twitter: @jamesrcallan
Purchase A Ton of Gold (here)

 I'm excited for Day 4's giveaway - it's a lovely scarf perfect for any occasion! I know, I know...a girly type giveaway, but it was just so pretty I couldn't help but offer it to giveaway. Make sure you leave a comment (rules for the giveaway below).

**Giveaway rules: To enter, comment on each the post (or posts) in the month of December that offer giveaway items you wish to win. One entry per person per giveaway item is permitted. All winners will be drawn in January (after the holiday craziness) and will be notified shortly thereafter.

Cleo Lampos {Writer Wednesday}

I am so excited because today you get double the fun with TWO posts today! First off, you get to learn more about author Cleo Lampos and then later today you'll hear from James Callan in a "Spread the Christmas Joy" post with a GIVEAWAY attached! How fun is that?

A little bit about Cleo...

During the twenty six years that Cleo Lampos taught in public schools, she also wrote magazine articles for professional and religious journals. She shares her knowledge of education by speaking to homeschool, parent and Sunday School curriculum groups. Recently retired, Lampos uses her Bachelor’s in Education from University of Wisconsin-Whitewater and her Master’s from St. Xavier University-Chicago to volunteer for children’s programs in her local church and to tutor special education students. With her husband and two cats, Lampos lives in a suburb on Chicago’s south side where she enjoys visits from her eleven grandchildren. She writes novels in the early morning hours.
How to connect with Cleo...


Website and Blog: www.cleolampos.com Facebook: Cleo Lampos
Oak Tara: Author Page

Author Interview | Cleo Lampos

This interview will be a slightly different format than past {Writer Wednesday} posts - hope you enjoy the variety!

My first published book, Daily Devotional for Women - Teaching Diamonds in the TOUGH: Mining the Potential in Every Student has been on the market for a year now, but it took twenty six years of teaching experience to write it. In a devotional format, the nonfiction book presents twenty situations in my Behavior Disordered classroom that are followed by Scripture, quotes from famous educators, and a take-away plan for the reader. The purpose is to help adults look beyond the behavior of problematic children to the reasons for their actions. I always dub myself as the “original diamond in the tough”. My story parallels those of the students that I taught.

In November, 2013, my first novel Miss Bee and the Do Bees: Teachers of the Diamond Projects School series was released by Oak Tara Publishing. The first book in a series, is the story of Zoey Pappas who comes from a farming community to teach in an urban school where she meets a policeman, Gavin Corrigan, who harbors a secretive side. Both people need second chances to realize the love they feel and to overcome the challenges in their lives. The secondary characters include Mrs. Milner and her husband, Jim. Mrs. Milner, a fifth grade teacher, is also the evening caretaker for her husband who has multiple sclerosis, MS. From this couple, Zoey realizes that she desires the type of love that transcends life’s problems which can only come from a foundation on God’s Word. The series is called The Teachers of Diamond Projects School and Book 2 is Miss Bee and the Do Bees which deals with the tragedy and triumphs in special education, as well as the issue of PTSD in veterans. Miss Bee learns to lean on God for her strength to teach.

Later in the spring of 2014, A Mother's Song will be published by Oak Tara. This historical novel took five years to write. During the research phase, I was privileged to attend an Orphan Train Reunion in Little Falls, Minnesota and meet four elderly riders of the orphan train. This book is based on fact, but reads as fiction. Again, the theme is about the difficulties of families in the inner city and problematic children, but in the confines of 1890 New York City’s Five Points and Nebraska. Foster and adoptive care is an issue that the plot explores. God’s mercy is demonstrated throughout the book.

The themes of my books reflect the trajectory of my own life. I was born in Greeley, Colorado where I lived with my sister, brother and mother after my father died when I was three years old. My mother married a man who turned out to be an abusive alcoholic. This resulted in my changing schools nine times in three states with a stint in foster care before hitting high school in a small Wisconsin town. Several teachers took an interest in me and I went to the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater on full tuition scholarship. My emphasis in education was teaching culturally deprived students, which I taught until I married my husband and started a family. Later, I earned a Master’s Degree in Special Education from St. Xavier University in Chicago. After 26 years of teaching Learning Disabled, Behavior Disordered and Emotionally Disturbed, I retired from education. During those years, dozens of articles for parents and professionals were published in Christian magazines and Sunday take-home papers.

Retirement allows my husband and I to try our hands at urban homesteading as we sow, grow and stow our harvest. We volunteer for the Bible League Thrift Store, Share the Harvest, Children’s Hunger Fund, and GEMS. I also serve as a Worship Planner and enjoy the quilting club and book club at our local church. For over twenty years, I have been in a critique writing group with Lynn Austin and Jane Rubietta. I participate in the local library writer’s group and read in Open Mic at the community center, which gives me new perspective on the culture. It is my desire to speak to parent groups or book clubs about educational or family challenges from Christian principles.

Christmas is a season of melancholy for me. The most surprising revelation about the children I taught was that they shared my feelings. Most of them became agitated and unruly before the two week winter break because it meant fewer meals and the possibility of violence. Anyone like myself and my students who have lived with alcoholics know that the period from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day is the most dangerous time of the year. When I realized the dynamics of the season for children of alcoholics, my teaching during this time changed. More close, homey type lessons, stories read aloud, treats. I try to focus on the real meaning of the season and over the years my anxiety has decreased. My prayer is that my students will eventually be healed and find the true love that came at Christmas. Thoughts of them fill my mind as I decorate my tree with ornaments that we made in my classroom. A gentle reminder that family and inner peace can never be taken for granted.

God has a journey for each of us. The material He has given to me through my life and teaching career will now be translated in words that have the power to heal and change lives. What message has your life given you to put into words?

___________________________

Thank you so much for your insight and honesty regarding your background and what fuels your writing now! It is so powerful to have so much experience and to focus that into writing. I love that you're writing about what is close to you, dear to you. It's beautiful, though I'm sure difficult at times. And I love your question to us - what can we share with the story God has given us?

Spread the Christmas Joy with Mary Ellis | Day 3

Joy from Mary Ellis

--> When I think back to the Christmases of my childhood, I always smile at one particular memory. For as long as I can remember, our extended family would gather at one of my aunt’s homes (now the homes of my cousins—my generation) on Christmas Eve. We would enjoy a lavish potluck dinner with the host family providing the main course while everyone else brought side dishes and desserts. Afterward, we would mingle to catch up on family news—coming babies, recent graduations or promotions and other milestones, small or grand. At some point during the evening, the families would separate to attend the church services of their own particular denomination. But beforehand, the children would anxiously await the arrival of one special secular guest—Santa Claus. My uncle (who has just recently passed away) would dress up in full costume and arrive with great fanfare down the staircase. (He left his sleigh and reindeer on the roof.) Over his shoulder he carried a velvet sack filled with wrapped gifts for all the good girls and boys from infants through college-aged. Surprisingly, the sack usually contained even a present for me.

Apparently, I was the last child to still believe in Santa Claus after my cousins had abandoned the notion and discovered the truth about the man-in-red.

But my mother and aunts didn’t want anyone to spoil my fun, so they instructed everyone to keep quiet about who really wore that silken beard of white. Since I was the youngest of my generation my cousins played along, and yours truly continued to believe the myth longer than average. However, someone at school or perhaps a neighborhood kid finally burst my bubble and spelled out the truth. Once I overcame my initial shock I thought about how pleased people seemed to be that little-Mary-Jean still believed. And so I played along with their subterfuge, becoming wide-eyed and anticipatory when that jolly man arrived every Christmas Eve. People would watch my reaction from the corner of their eyes, pleased that the deception continued for another year. Finally (perhaps the year before I started college…) when Santa arrived and presented this little girl with her treasure, I had so say “Hi, Uncle Louie. Thanks for the gift.”

Everyone moaned, while my mother looked broken-hearted. But all good things must come to an end. Now that my dear mom and uncle are gone, I will remember the joy they preserved for me because of their love. And because of the unending love of the Father and the gift of His son…once again I have something to believe in. 

Merry Christmas. May God’s blessings rain down on you and your families.

_______________________________

Mary Ellis has written ten bestselling novels set in the Amish community. Before "retiring" to write full-time, Mary taught school and worked as a sales rep for Hershey Chocolate. Living in Harmony, book one of her current series won the 2012 Lime Award for Excellence in Amish Fiction. Book two, Love Comes to Paradise has been nominated for a 2013 Lime Award. Book three, A Little Bit of Charm, has just released from Harvest House. An Amish Miracle, a collection of novellas, releases December 3rd from Harper Collins. She is currently working on a three-book historical romance series set during the Civil War. The Quaker and the Rebel releases January 1st, 2014.

She can be found on the web at: www.maryellis.net or https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Mary-Ellis/126995058236

Spread the Christmas Joy and Giveaway | Day 2

Joy from Patty Hall

Every mother worries about their baby at one time or another, especially if that child is born prematurely or had problems at birth. I was no different. Our oldest daughter, Jennifer arrived seven weeks early and extremely ill from an infection, making Danny and I wonder if she’d live or die. So when we got her home, I was more cautious than most, greeting visitors to our home with a thermometer sleeved in plastic. I took medical histories of anyone who dared cough within ten feet of my baby and demanded hand washing from anyone who made a request to hold her. I watched Jennifer like a hawk, keeping a detailed record of her milestones, my nerves grated if she lagged behind for even a day.

Which was what we faced Christmas, 1986. At a little over two months, Jennifer hadn’t laughed, not even a giggle. The nurse in me knew that I was being ridiculous, that with her early birth, Jennifer should have been only a month old. But the mother in me didn’t understand that logic. Every one of my friends’s babies were laughing--was Jennifer missing her funny bone? So we did our best to get her giggling by putting twinkling lights all over the house, stacking mountains of presents under the tree. Her daddy even made up silly Christmas songs with funny faces and sang them to her, but Jennifer didn’t crack a smile. By Christmas Eve, Danny and I were ready to give up. Something was wrong with our baby, we just knew it.

That night, we went to our annual family Christmas get together. Danny and I had been tag-teaming through dinner since Jennifer’s arrival so my dad volunteered to hold her while we enjoyed our dessert. A small package was delivered to Daddy--the great aunts brought little gifts for the kids every year--who held it in front of Jennifer.

“You want me to open it for you, sweetheart?” Daddy asked, already tearing into the paper. A couple of tugs at the wrapping revealed a Raggedy Andy doll with his red-yarn hair and crooked smile. “Well, look at that, Jennifer. Isn’t he funny looking?”

Jennifer’s eyes widened, and for a moment or two, I thought she might cry. But then I heard it, this tiny bubble of laughter. Her lips spread out into a toothless grin at the sound, and she giggled again, this time louder until it filled the air around us. Our baby was laughing so we joined in.

That Christmas was the first of many Christmases with first Jennifer, then her younger sister, Carly, each one as unique as our daughters themselves. They’ve given us more joy than we could’ve imagined since that first Christmas as parents over twenty-seven years ago.

___________________________

Patty Smith Hall has been making up stories to keep herself occupied since her parents forced her on boring Sunday drives into the Georgia countryside when she was too young to stay home by herself. Now she's happy to share her wild imagination and love of history with others, including her husband of 29 years, Danny, two smart and gorgeous daughters, and a yorkie that she spoils like a grandbaby until someone decides to actually give her one. She resides in North Georgia. 

You can purchase her novel The Doctor's Bride [here]

For today's giveaway I'm excited to show off these amazing wooden ornaments! They are tiny and light, perfect for the top of a tree. Their intricate detail and special scenes/images are what I was first drawn to. Rules to enter the giveaway are explained below. Don't forget, there are 11 more items coming up in these next few weeks so check back often!

**Giveaway rules: To enter, comment on each the post (or posts) in the month of December that offer giveaway items you wish to win. One entry per person per giveaway item is permitted. All winners will be drawn in January (after the holiday craziness) and will be notified shortly thereafter.

Spread the Chrsitmas Joy | Day 1

Joy from Sharon Srock

I’m not a very crafty person. When it comes to cool, homemade projects, my sister got all of the cross-stitching, oil painting, quilling, and sand sculpture genes God intended for our whole family. Name a popular handcraft that has come on the scene in the last forty years, my sister has done it, and done it well. Me, not so much.

But there was one year when necessity overcame my fat fingers. Our daughters were young and we’d just adopted our son, so I wasn’t working. Money was a little tight and even though we could afford to put gifts under the tree for our three children, presents for friends and the rest of the family just weren’t going to happen.

I went to my sister and asked her to show me, again, the cross-stitch basics. I stocked up on fabric and thread, bought a small book of quotes and got busy. Over the next few weeks, I matched unique quotes to the people on our Christmas list and made personalized samplers for all. As I finished with needle and thread, my husband took over with scraps of wood, saws, and paint brushes, constructing handmade frames for each project.

By the time Christmas rolled around, I had needle pricks and bandaids on all my fingers and a satisfying stack of gifts under the tree. When it came time to distribute those handmade gifts, I’ll never forget the reaction from friends and family. It gave me such joy to see the things I’d worked so hard on, treasured and displayed in their homes. When my mother passed on to be with Jesus several years later, I was blessed to be able to retrieve the one I’d made for her to display in my own home. Thirty years later, those gifts are still out there, and they still generate a hug or two during the holidays from friends who tell me that my piece of needle work was the best gift I ever gave them.

___________________________

Author Sharon Srock went from science fiction to Christian fiction at slightly less than warp speed. Twenty five years ago, she cut her writer's teeth on Star Trek fiction. Today, she writes inspirational stories that focus on ordinary women using their faith to accomplish extraordinary things. A member of the American Christian Fiction Writers, Sharon serves her local chapter in the role of treasurer. Sharon lives in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma with her husband and three very large dogs. Her books include: Callie (Women of Valley View) and Terri (Women of Valley View), both of which are currently available. The Women of Valley View: Pam will release in early 2014.









Connect with her at www.sharonsrock.com...

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/SharonSrock#!/SharonSrock
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/SharonSrock
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6448789.Sharon_Srock