A Short Holiday « Result #1 on Mar 12, 2009, 10:31pm »
Alan worked in an office in the city. He worked very hard and really looked forward to his holidays.
He usually went to the seaside, but one year he saw an ad in a newspaper "Enjoy country life. Spend a few weeks at Willow Farm. Good food, fresh air, horse riding, walking, fishing. Reasonable prices ."
" This sounds like a good idea." he thought, " I' 11 spend a month at Willow Farm. I'll enjoy horse riding, walking and fishing. They'll make a change from sitting by the seaside.
Four days later he returned home.
"What' s wrong with Willow Farm ?" his friend asked him. " Didn't you enjoy country life ?"
"Country life was fine," Alan said." But there was another problem.
"Oh, what?"
Well, the first day I was there a sheep died, and we had roast lamb for dinner.
揊resh meat is the best.擾"I know, but on the second day a cow died, and we had roast beef for dinner. "
"Lucky you!"
"You don't understand," Alan said." On the third day a pig died and we had roast pork for dinner."
" A different roast every day." Jack exclaimed.
"Let me finish," Alan said." On the fourth day the farmer died and I didn't dare stay for dinner!"
Reproducing Bull « Result #2 on Mar 12, 2009, 10:30pm »
A couple goes to an agricultural show way out in the countryside on a fine Sunday afternoon, and are watching the auctioning off of reproduction bulls. The guy selling the bulls announces the first bull to be auctioned off: "A fine specimen, this bull reproduced 60 times last year."
The wife nudges her husband in the ribs, and comments: "See! That was more
than 5 times a month!"
The second bull is to be sold: "Another fine specimen, this wonder reproduced 120 times last year."
Again the wife bugs her husband: "Hey, that's some 10 times a month. What do
YOU say to that?!"
Her husband is getting really annoyed with this comparison... The third bull is up for sale: "And this extraordinary specimen reproduced 360 times last year!"
The wife slaps her husband on the arm and yells: "That's once a day, every day of the year! How about YOU?!"
The husband was pretty irritated by now, and yells back: "Sure, once a day! But
ask the announcer if they were all with the same cow!!!"
A number of young girls were drawing water at the village well and telling each other their fantasies of when and whom and how they would marry. One of them said, "My uncle will come loaded with wedding presents and dress me in brocade, and I'll get married in a palace."
Another said, "My uncle is coming soon with a camel-load of sweets."
The third said, "Oh, my uncle will be here in no time in a golden carriage filled with jewels."
Bopoluchi was the prettiest of them all and she looked sad---she was an orphan and had no one in the world to arrange a marriage for her or give her a dowry. Still, not to be outdone by the others, she said, "And my uncle will bring me dresses, sweets, and jewels in golden plates."
A robber, disguised as a peddler selling perfumes to country women, happened to be sitting near the well. He heard what Bopoluchi said. He was so struck by her beauty and spirit that he decided to marry her himself. So the very next day, he disguised himself as a rich farmer and came to Bopoluchi's hut with trays full of silken dresses, sweets, and rare jewels---things he had looted and put away.
Bopoluchi could hardly believe her eyes, for it was just as she had fantasized.
The robber even said he was her uncle, her father's long-lost brother, and had come home to arrange his niece's wedding with one of his sons.
Bopoluchi couldn't believe her ears, but she believed him and was ecstatic. She packed up her few belongings and set off with the robber.
But as they went along the road, a crow in a tree croaked:
"Bopoluchi, beware! Smell the danger in the air! It's no uncle that relieves you But a robber who deceives you!" "Uncle," said Bopoluchi, "that crow croaks in a funny way. What does it say?" "Nothing," said the robber. "All the crows in this country croak like that."
A little farther on, they met a peathingy which, as soon as it caught sight of the pretty girl, began to scream:
"Bopoluchi, beware! Smell the danger in the air! It's no uncle that relieves you But a robber who deceives you!" "Uncle," said the girl, "that peathingy screams in a funny way. What does it say?" "Oh, nothing," said the robber. "All the peathingys scream like that in this country." Then a jackal slunk across the road and began to howl:
"Bopoluchi, beware! Smell the danger in the air! It's no uncle that relieves you But a robber who deceives you!" "Uncle," said Bopoluchi, "that jackal howls in such a funny way. What does it say?" "Oh, nothing," said the robber. "All the jackals howl like that in this country."
So Bopoluchi traveled with him many miles till they reached the robber's house. Once they were inside, he locked the door and told her who he was and how he wanted to marry her himself. She wept and wailed, but the pitiless robber left her with his ancient crone of a mother and went out to make arrangements for the marriage feast.
Now Bopoluchi had long, beautiful hair that reached down to her ankles, but the mother of the robber was so old she didn't have a hair on her head.
"Daughter," said the old hag, as she was getting the bridal clothes ready, "how did you manage to get such beautiful hair?"
"Well," replied Bopoluchi, "my mother had a way of making it grow by pounding my head in the big mortar for husking rice. At every stroke of the pestle, my hair grew longer and longer. It's a method that never fails."
"Maybe it will work for me, too, and make my hair grow," said the old woman, who had always wanted long hair and never had very much. "Maybe it will. Why don't we try it?" said Bopoluchi.
So the old mother put her head in the mortar, and Bopoluchi pounded away with such force that the old woman died.
Then Bopoluchi dressed the dead body in the scarlet bridal dress, seated it on the bridal chair, drew the veil over its face, and put the spinning-wheel in front of it, so that when the robber came home he might think it was his bride. Then she put on the old woman's clothes, picked up her few belongings, and stepped out of the house as quickly as possible.
On her way home, the robber saw her hurrying by. He had stolen a millstone to grind the grain for the feast. She was scared he would recognize her, but he didn't. He thought she was some old woman hobbling along. So Bopoluchi reached home safely.
When the robber came home and saw the figure in the bridal dress sitting in the bridal chair spinning, he thought it was Bopoluchi. He called her to help him with the millstone, but she didn't answer. He called again, but she still didn't answer. After calling a few more times, he flew into a rage and threw the millstone at her head. The figure toppled over, and when he came close, it wasn't Bopoluchi at all but his own old mother with her head bashed in. The robber wept and cried aloud and beat his breast because he thought he had killed his own mother. Soon it became clear to him that Bopoluchi was no longer around and had run away. He was wild with rage and ran out to bring her back, wherever she was.
When she reached home, Bopoluchi knew that the robber would certainly come after her. Every night she begged her neighbors to let her sleep in a different house, leaving her own little bed in her own little house empty. But she couldn't do this forever, as she soon came to the end of friends who would let her sleep in their houses. So she decided to brave it out and sleep in her own bed, with a sharp billhook next to her. Sure enough, in the middle of the night four men crept in, and each seizing a leg of the bed, lifted it up and walked off. The robber himself held the leg close behind her head. Bopoluchi was wide awake, but she pretended to be fast asleep until they came to a deserted spot and the thieves were off their guard. Then she whipped out the billhook and in a flash cut off the heads of the two thieves at the foot of the bed. Turning around quickly, she cut off the head of the third thief, but the robber himself ran away in a fright and scrambled up a nearby tree like a wild cat before she could get at him.
Bopoluchi cried out to him, brandishing her billhook, "Come down, if you are a man, and fight it out!"
But the robber would not come down. So Bopoluchi gathered all the sticks she could find, piled them around the tree, and set fire to them. The tree caught fire, and the robber, stifled by the smoke, tried to jump down and broke his neck.
After that, Bopoluchi went to the robber's house and carried off all the gold and silver, jewels, and clothes that were hidden there. She had them brought home to her village in silver and gold platters, on camels and donkeys. She was now so rich she could marry anyone she pleased.
Sukhu and Dukhu « Result #4 on Feb 28, 2009, 1:25am »
A man had two wives and had a daughter by each of them. Dukhu was the daughter of the elder wife and Sukhu was the daughter of the younger. The man loved his younger wife and her daughter
Sukhu more than the older wife and her daughter Dukhu. The daughters' natures were just like their mothers'. Sukhu was as lazy and ill-tempered as Dukhu was active and lovable. Furthermore, Sukhu and her mother hated the other two and treated them badly anytime they had the chance.
The man took ill, and died in spite of every kind of treatment. The younger wife inherited all his property, and she drove Dukhu and her mother out of the house.
Dukhu and her mother found an empty hut outside town and occupied it. They made a living by spinning thread. One day when Dukhu was spinning outside her hut, the wind blew hard and carried away her wad of cotton. She ran after it but couldn't catch up with it. When she began to cry in desperation, she heard a voice in the wind, "Don't cry, Dukhu, come with me. I'll give you all the cotton you want."
So she followed the wind. On the way, she met a cow, which spoke to her: "Not so fast, Dukhu. My shed is covered with dung. Wash it clean for me, and I'll help you later."
Dukhu drew water from the well and got herself a broom and washed the cowshed clean as clean could be. The wind was waiting for her to finish. As soon as she finished, she went with the wind again. They came to a plantain tree, which stopped her and said, "Where are you going, Dukhu? Can't you stop a minute and pull down all these creepers from my body so that I can stand up straight? It's hard to stand bent down like this all day and all night. Please."
"I'll be glad to do that," said Dukhu, and she tore down all the creepers that were smothering the tree.
The tree said, "You're a good girl. I'll help you some other time."
"I didn't do anything special, really," said Dukhu and hurried on, for the wind was waiting for her.
Next she met a horse and it said, "Where are you going, Dukhu? This saddle and bridle cut into me. I can't bend down to eat the grass. Will you please take them off for me?"
Dukhu took off the saddle and bridle. The horse was grateful and promised her a gift.
The wind said, as they moved on, "Do you see that palace there? That's where the Mother of the Moon lives. She can give you as much cotton as you want." With that, he left her there.
Dukhu walked towards the palace. It seemed deserted. She felt afraid and lonely. She stood there in front of it for a while and then decided to go in. Timidly, step by step, she walked through the rooms. Not a mouse stirring, not a living soul anywhere. Suddenly she heard a noise behind a closed door. She went up to it and knocked softly. A voice said, "Come in."
Dukhu pushed the door open and saw an old lady working at a wheel. She was luminous as if the moon was specially shining on her.
Dukhu bowed to her, touched her feet and said, "Granny, the wind blew away all my cotton. If I don't spin, my mother and I will starve. Will you give me some cotton?"
"I'll give you something better than cotton," said the old Mother of the Moon, "if you are deserving. Do you see that pond out there? Go to that pond and dip in it twice. Only twice, not three times, remember."
So Dukhu walked out of the palace and went to the pond and took a dip. When she rose out of the water, she had been changed into someone very beautiful. When she took a second dip, she was covered with silks, pearls, and gems. Her sari was muslin, and she had gold necklaces so heavy that they weighed her down. She couldn't believe what was happening to her.
When she ran back to the palace, the old woman said, "Child, I know you are hungry. Go to the next room. I've food there for you."
The next room had food of every kind, the best rice, the finest curries, sweets beyond her dreams. After eating her fill, she went back to the old woman, who said, "I want to give you something more," and showed her three caskets, each bigger than the next. "Choose one," she said. Dukhu chose the smallest one and said good-bye to the old woman and left the palace.
As she retraced her steps, she met the horse, the plantain tree, and the cow. Each wanted to give her a gift to take home with her. The horse gave her a young colt of the finest breed; the tree gave her a bunch of plantains yellow as gold and a pot full of old gold coins; and the cow gave her a tawny calf whose udders would never be dry.
Dukhu thanked them all for their wonderful gifts, seated herself on the colt with the pot of gold and the plantains, and found her way home, with the calf walking close behind her.
Her mother, meanwhile, had made herself sick with anxiety, not knowing where Dukhu had gone and when she would come back. She was beside herself with joy when she heard Dukhu's voice call out, "Mother, where are you? Look what I've got!"
When the mother had recovered from her shock of joy, she couldn't believe her eyes. The muslins, the jewels, the gold coins, the plantains, the horse, and the calf---she looked at every one of them over and over. She was speechless.
After a while she found her voice and asked her daughter how she came by all these fabulous things. Dukhu told her the whole story about the wind, the cow, the tree, the horse, and the old Mother of the Moon, and ended by saying, "That's not all. Here's something else she has given me: this casket!"
She then showed her mother the casket. They thought it would be full of more jewels, pearls, gold, and silver. But when they slowly opened it, out of it stepped a most handsome young man dressed like a prince.
"I've been sent here to marry you," he said to Dukhu, without wasting an extra word.
Soon a date was fixed, kith and kin were invited, and a great gala wedding was celebrated. The only people who did not come to the wedding were Sukhu and her mother.
Now, Dukhu's mother was a good woman. Though she had suddenly come into wealth and status, it hadn't gone to her head. She still wanted to be friends with Sukhu and her mother. So she offered Sukhu some ornaments, as they now had heaps of them. But Sukhu's mother was offended. She put her fist to her cheek and hissed, "Why should Sukhu take your leftovers? She's not going begging for jewels! If God had wanted to give my daughter jewels, he would have kept her father alive. My Sukhu is lovely as she is. She needs no ornaments. Only girls who are ugly as owls need fine saris and necklaces to make them look good."
But she didn't forget to make discreet inquiries to find out how Dukhu had come by her great good fortune. Once she learned where Dukhu had gone and how she found the Mother of the Moon, she said to herself, "I'll show her! She is trying to rub her good luck in my face. I'll make my Sukhu a hundred times richer."
Then she brought Sukhu a spinning-wheel and made her spin in the outer yard where the wind was blowing. "Listen to me carefully, Sukhu, my dear," she said. "The wind will blow away your wad of cotton. Then don't forget to howl and wail till the wind asks you to follow it. Be courteous to anyone you meet on the way. Go wherever the wind takes you till you meet the Mother of the Moon."
Forty-three years seems like a long time to remember the name of a mere acquaintance. I have duly forgotten the name of an old lady who was a customer on my paper route when I was a twelve-year-old boy in Marinette, Wisconsin back in 1954. wow power leveling Yet it seems like just yesterday that she taught me a lesson in forgiveness that I can only hope to pass on to someone else someday.
On a mindless Saturday afternoon, wow gold, a friend and I were throwing rocks onto the roof of the old lady’s house from a secluded spot in her backyard. The object of our play was to observe how the rocks changed to missiles as they rolled to the roof’s edge and shot out into the yard like comets falling from the sky.
I found myself a perfectly smooth rock and sent it for a ride. The stone was too smooth, however, so it slipped from my hand as I let it go and headed straight for a small window on the old lady’s back porch. At the sound of fractured glass,wow power leveling we took off from the old lady’s yard faster than any of our missiles flew off her roof.
I was too scared about getting caught that first night to be concerned about the old lady with the broken porch window. However, a few days later, when I was sure that I hadn’t been discovered, I started to feel guilty for her misfortune. She still greeted me with a smile each day when I gave her the paper, but I was no longer able to act comfortable in her presence.
I made up my mind that I would save my paper delivery money, and in three weeks I had the seven dollars that I calculated would cover the cost of her window.wow power leveling I put the money in an envelope with a note explaining that I was sorry for breaking her window and hoped that the seven dollars would cover the cost for repairing it.
I waited until it was dark, snuck up to the old lady’s house, and put the envelope of retribution through the letter slot in her door. My soul felt redeemed and I couldn’t wait for the freedom of, once again, looking straight into the old lady’s eyes.
The next day, wow gold I handed the old lady her paper and was able to return the warm smile that I was receiving from her. She thanked me for the paper and said, “Here, I have something for you.” It was a bag of cookies. I thanked her and proceeded to eat the cookies as I continued my route.
After several cookies,wow gold I felt an envelope and pulled it out of the bag. When I opened the envelope, I was stunned. Inside was the seven dollars and a short note that said, “I’m proud of you.”
The Easter Bunny « Result #6 on Feb 17, 2009, 10:32pm »
When I was a little girl, every Sunday my family of six would put on their best clothes and go to Sunday School and then church. The kids in elementary school would all meet together to sing songs, and then later divide into groups based on their ages.
One Easter Sunday,wow power leveling all the kids arrived with big eyes and big stories about what the Easter Bunny had brought. While all of the kids shared their stories with delight, one young boy, whom I will call Bobby, sat sullenly. One of the teachers, noticing this, said to him, wow gold "And what did the Easter Bunny bring you?" He replied, "My mom locked the door on accident so the Easter Bunny couldn't get inside."
This sounded like a reasonable idea to all of us kids,wow power leveling so we kept on going with the stories. My mom knew the true story, though. Bobby's mom was a single parent, and she suspected that they just couldn't afford the Easter Bunny.
After Sunday School was over, everyone went off to church. When my dad came to meet us my mom announced that we were going home instead. At home, wow power leveling she explained that to make Bobby feel better, we were going to pretend to be the Easter Bunny and make a basket of goodies for him and leave it at church. We all donated some of our candies to the basket, and headed back up to church. There,wow gold mom unzipped his coat, hung the basket over the hanger, and zipped up the coat and attached a note.
Dear Bobby, I'm sorry I missed your house last night.wow gold Happy Easter. Love, The Easter Bunny
Colorful Shades of Gray « Result #7 on Feb 17, 2009, 10:32pm »
Moths are very ugly creatures. At least that is what I always thought until a reliable source told me otherwise. When I was about five or six years old, my brother Joseph and I stayed overnight at our Aunt Linda’s house,wow power leveling our favorite relative. She spoke to us like adults, and she always had the best stories.
Joseph was only four years old, and still afraid of the dark, so Aunt Linda left the door open and the hall light on when she tucked us in to bed. Joe couldn’t sleep, so he just lay there staring at the ceiling. Just as I dozed off to sleep, he woke me up and asked, “Jennie, what are those ugly things near the light?”(I had always liked that he asked me questions because wow gold I was older and supposed to know the answers. I didn’t always know the answers, of course, but I could always pretend I did.) He was pointing to the moths fluttering around the hall light. “They’re just moths, go to sleep,” I told him.
He wasn’t content with that answer,wow power leveling or the moths near his night light, so the next time my Aunt walked by the door he asked her to make the ugly moths go away. When she asked why, he said simply, “Because they’re ugly and scary, and I don’t like them! ”She just laughed, rubbed his head, and said, “Joe just because something is ugly outside doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful inside. Do you know why moths are brown?” Joe just shook his head.
“Moths are the most beautiful animals in the animal kingdom. At one time they were more colorful than the butterflies. They have always been helpful, kind, and generous creatures. One day the angels up in heaven were crying. They were sad because it was cloudy and they couldn’t look down upon the people on earth. Their tears fell down to the earth as rain. The sweet little moths hated to see everyone so sad. They decided to make a rainbow.wow power leveling The moths figured that if they asked their cousins, the butterflies, to help, they could all give up just a little bit of their colors and they could make a beautiful rainbow.
One of the littlest moths flew to ask the queen of the butterflies for help. The butterflies were too vain and selfish to give up any of their colors for neither the people nor the angels. So, the moths decided to try to make the rainbow themselves. They beat their wings very hard and the powder on them formed little clouds that the winds smoothed over like glass. Unfortunately, the rainbow wasn’t big enough so the moths kept giving a little more and a little more until the rainbow stretched all the way across the sky. They had given away all their color except brown, which didn’t fit into their beautiful rainbow.
Now the once colorful moths were plain and brown. The angels up in heaven saw the rainbow, and became joyous.wow gold They smiled and the warmth of their smiles shown down on the earth as sunshine. The
warm sunshine made the people on earth happy and they smiled, too. Now every time it rains the baby moths, who still have their colors, spread them across the sky to make more rainbows.”
My brother sank off to sleep with that story and hasn’t feared moths since. The story my aunt told us had been gathering dust in the back corners of my brain for years,wow gold but recently came back to me.
I have a friend named Abigail who always wears gray clothes. She is also one of the most kind and generous people I’ve ever met. When people ask her why she doesn’t wear more colors she just smiles, that smile, and says, “Gray is my color.” She knows herself and she doesn’t compromise that to appease other people. Some may see her as plain like a moth, but I know that underneath the gray, Abigail is every color of the rainbow.
Grandpas Valentine « Result #8 on Feb 11, 2009, 9:26pm »
I was the only family member living close by, so I received the initial call from the nursing home. Grandpa was failing rapidly.wow power leveling I should come. There was nothing to do but hold his hand. “I love you, Grandpa. Thank you for always being there for me.” And silently, I released him.
Memories...memories...six days a week,wow power leveling the farmer in the old blue shirt and bib overalls caring for those Hereford cattle he loved so much...on hot summer days lifting bales of hay from the wagon, plowing the soil, planting the corn and beans and harvesting them in the fall...always working from dawn to dusk. Survival demanded the work, work, work.
But on Sundays, after the morning chores were done, he put on his gray suit and hat. Grandma wore her wine-colored dress and the ivory beads, and they went to church. There was little other social life. Grandpa and Grandma were quiet, peaceful, unemotional people who every day did what they had to do. He was my grandpa -- he had been for 35 years. It was hard to picture him in any other role.
The nurse apologized for having to ask me so soon to please remove Grandpa’s things from the room. It would not take long.wow gold There wasn’t much. Then I found it in the top drawer of his nightstand. It looked like a very old handmade valentine. What must have been red paper at one time was a streaked faded pink. A piece of white paper had been glued to the center of the heart. On it, penned in Grandma’s handwriting, were these words:
TO LEE FROM HARRIET
With All My Love,
February 14, 1895
Are you alive? Real? Or are you the most beautiful dream that wow power leveling I have had in years? Are you an angel -- or a figment of my imagination? Someone I fabricated to fill the void? To soothe the pain? Where did you find the time to listen? How could you understand?
You made me laugh when my heart was crying. You took me dancing when I couldn’t take a step. You helped me set new goals when I was dying. You showed me dew drops and I had diamonds. You brought me wildflowers and I had orchids. You sang to me and angelic choirs burst forth in song.wow gold You held my hand and my whole being loved you. You gave me a ring and I belonged to you. I belonged to you and I have experienced all.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I read the words. I pictured the old couple I had always known. It’s difficult to imagine your grandparents in any other role than that. What I read was so very beautiful and sacred.wow gold Grandpa had kept it all those years. Now it is framed on my dresser, a treasured part of family history.
Gifts of the Heart « Result #9 on Feb 11, 2009, 9:26pm »
In this hustle-bustle world we live in it's so much easier to charge something on a credit card rather than give a gift of the heart. And gifts of the heart are especially needed during the holidays. A few years ago, I began to prepare my children for the fact that Christmas that year was going to be a small one. Their response was, "Yeah sure, Mom, we've heard that before!" I had lost my credibility because I had told them the same thing the previous year, while going through a divorce.wow power leveling But then I had gone out and charged every credit card to the max. I even found some creative financing techniques to pay for their stocking stuffers. This year was definitely going to be different, but they weren't buying it. A week before Christmas, I asked myself, What do I have that will make this Christmas special? In all the houses we had lived in before the divorce, I had always made time to be the interior decorator. I had learned how to wallpaper, to lay wooden and ceramic tile, to sew curtains out of sheets and even more. But in this rental house there was little time for decorating and a lot less money. Plus, I was angry about this ugly place, I with its read and orange carpets and turquoise and green walls. I refused to put money into it. Inside me, and inner voice of hurt pride shouted, We're not going to be here that long! Nobody else seemed to mind about the house except my daughter Lisa, who always tried to make her room her special place. It was time to express my talents.wow gold I called my ex-husband and asked that he buy a specific bedspread for Lisa. Then I bought the sheets to match. On Christmas Eve, I spent $15 on a gallon of paint. I also bought the prettiest stationery I'd ever seen. My goal was simple: I'd paint and we and stay busy until Christmas morning, so I wouldn't have time to feel sorry for myself on such a special family holiday. That night, I gave each of the children three pieces of stationery with envelopes. At the top of each page were the words, "What I love about my sister Mia," "What I love about my brother Kris," What I love about my sister Lisa" and "What I love about my brother Erik." The kids were 16, 14, wow power leveling 10 and 8, and it took some convincing on my part to assure them that they could find just one thing they liked about each other. As they wrote in privacy, I went to my bedroom and wrapped their few store-bought gifts. When I returned to the kitchen, the children had finished their letters to one another. Each name was written on the outside of the envelope. We exchanged hugs and goodnight kisses and they hurried off to bed. Lisa was given special permission to sleep in my bed, with the promise not to peek until Christmas morning. I got started in the wee hours of Christmas morn,wow gold I finished the curtains, painted the walls and stepped back to admire my masterpiece.
Wait-why not put rainbows and clouds on the walls to match the sheets? So out came my makeup brushes and sponges, and at 5 A.M. I was finished. Too exhausted to think about being a poor "broken home," as statistics said,wow gold I went to my room and found Lisa spread-eagled in my bed. I decided I couldn't sleep with arms and legs all over me, so I gently lifted her up and tiptoed her into her room. As I laid her head on the pillow, she said, "Mommy, is it morning yet?" "No sweetie, keep your eyes closed unit Santa comes." I awoke that morning with a bright whisper in my ear. "Wow, Mommy, it's beautiful!" Later, we all got up and sat around the tree and opened the few wrapped presents. Afterward the children were given their three envelopes. We read the words with teary eyes and red noses. Then we got to "the baby of the family's" notes. Erik, at 8, wasn't expecting to hear anything nice. His brother had written: "What I love about my brother Erik is that he's not afraid of anything." Mia had written,wow power leveling "What I love about my brother Erik is he can talk to anybody!" Lisa had written, "What I love about my brother Erik he can climb trees higher than anyone!" I felt a gentle tug at my sleeve, then a small hand cupped around my ear and Erik whispered, "Gee, Mom, I didn't even know they like me!" In the worst of times, creativity and resourcefulness had given us the best of times. I'm now back on my feet financially, and we've had many "big" Christmases with lots of presents under the tree…but when asked which Christmas is our favorite, we all remember that one.
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