Ready to leave to meet friends for ice cream, my daughter held something in her hand.
I got this in the beginning of the year and I forgot about it.
It was a key chain with her college logo on the front.
It’s a flashlight, she demonstrated as she pressed the button.

Put it with your keys, her oldest sister remarked.
The “just finished her freshman year of college” daughter cheerfully complied.
She left with the flashlight turned on for emphasis.
I smiled and watched her leave.

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There was one school project that never got any complaints from my children.
It was a project that they could only complete halfway.
They had an excuse for not finishing the other half.
They were not able to do so.

It was not laziness.
It was not lack of effort.
It simply could not be done.
The other half was unknown.

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She studied for many years.
Voice lessons filled most of her time in her growing up years.
Many hours a day one would find her practicing.
Her training fine-tuned the gift that had been given to her.

Her dream of singing professionally was still years away.
In the meantime, there were concerts and recitals in which she could participate.
She brought so much pleasure to those who listened to her.
She brought so much joy to those around her.

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When I was a little girl I liked to put money in the gumball machine.
There was something about putting the coin in the slot and turning the handle.
All the colored gumballs were there behind the glass.
The anticipation of just the right color coming down was the best part.

I would lift the little metal door and the gumball would drop into my hand.
Unless it dropped on the floor.
Then it was necessary to try again.
I would put the coin in the slot, turn the handle, and the gumball would fall.

I didn’t even like candy.
But I did like bubble gum.

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There is a question that begs to be answered.
If the government charged you with the crime of being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?

It is a sobering thought.
It suggests taking inventory of your life.
It requires a true assessment of your walk and your talk.
It demands honesty without justifying your actions or lack of action.

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My husband just returned from Guatemala.
He was there for over two weeks building houses.
He takes one trip a year to volunteer and build homes for others.
He has built homes both nationally and internationally.

On this trip, he bought a beautiful hand woven mantel.
Made by a woman who sits on her knees for eight hours a day.
Each piece is unique and woven with vibrant colors.
Each symbol on the mantel represents a significant part of the country.

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There he sat on the sidewalk.
A homeless man sitting on a small mat.
His few possessions around him.
A white plastic bucket next to him which held a few things.

No sign.
No explanation.
A small cup in front of him to prompt someone to give.
There he was, by himself, sitting on the sidewalk.

A man walks up to him.
He asks the homeless man if he can borrow his bucket.

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We have all been in their presence.
The person who makes you feel as if you are their best friend.
The person who says just the right words at just the right time.
The person who walks away from you and there is a warmth for having been near them.

The person who is able to give you their undivided attention.
The person who doesn’t mind that they have not left the same spot all evening.
The person who doesn’t look up or around to see if there is someone better to talk to.
The person who listens, intently listens, to the heart of another.

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The day after Thanksgiving is the day we decorate the house for Christmas.
I am not getting ahead of myself.
I love Thanksgiving: the food preparation, the family gathered, the attitude of gratitude.
However, this time of year I am thinking ahead; making a mental note of things we need.

Christmas lights, new ornaments, family Christmas card, all go on my check list.
This year I was contemplating new window candles.
That has been a mainstay to our decorating for my entire married life.
There is something so welcoming about seeing a lit candle in the window.

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I talked to someone on the phone.
Through our conversation, we realized that we had a mutual friend.
How we discovered that is a story in and of itself.
We were amazed at how the world keeps getting smaller.

Six degrees of separation: the theory that everyone and everything is six or fewer steps away, by way of introduction, from any other person in the world.

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