Inviting Your Friends to Church - Child Style

"Do you go to church?"

"Sometimes...with my mom."

"Do you want to come to church with me?"

"What do you do there?"

"We sing first and then Sunday school...but...my mom, she's in the band so we have to go early for her to practice. During practice, she lets me play on her iPad...Do you think you'd like to come to church with me?"

"Sure!"

Favourite Christmas Present

The Christmas after my mom passed away was a little sobering for the family. We all missed her terribly. My mom loved this time of year, especially now that she had 10 excited grandchildren to share it with.

That year after all the gifts were opened, my dad produced one last present : a small box that was addressed to me from him. You could tell from the size that it was a jewellery box and I have to admit...I was a little nervous to open it. My dad loved to buy jewellery for my mom...which she loved but wasn't always my taste.

I said..."Oh, you've been out shopping have you?" as I unwrapped the present with a nervous grin. But that grin was quickly replaced by a look of shock and then tears as I recognized the tiny box under the wrapping. For in the box was my mom's family ring. The ring I had picked out, and my siblings and I gave to her for her 50th birthday.

I wear the ring all the time. It's a piece of my mom I carry with me and love to look at and remember her.

What is your favourite Christmas present?

Milkweed Memories

I love milkweed because it reminds me of my childhood.

My dad runs a tree and junk removal business. When we were kids, there were many times when all 4 kids were piled into the truck with mom and dad to go "help" with a job. One of his clients was located at the edge of town with an overgrown weeded lot behind the building...a place for us kids to explore. I was fascinated with the milkweed contained in this lot, and the while fluffy seeds that you could pull out of the pod and free into the air. We would hunt for caterpillars and cocoons amongst the milkweed; hoping to take one home that we could watch transform into a butterfly.

I've introduced C to milkweed this fall and she loves it just as much as I did...or still do.

Dish Duty

"I'm never doing dishes when I get older!"

"Who do you think will do them?"

"My husband."

Dreamer...

Wordless Wednesday - The Gigglers

A Birthday Surprise

Today, my family celebrated March birthdays....which includes mine. As I opened the present from my brother and sister-in-law, I tried to not get my hopes up...for the object wrapped in tissue paper was definitely the shape of a plate. I thought..."it can't possibly be THE plate...THE plate that was accidentally smashed to pieces". I pulled back the tissue paper, and there it was...

I was ecstatic (and a little emotional too). I never thought the 20 year old collectors plate would be replaceable any time soon. Thank-you Syl. :-)

Happy Birthday/Blogiversary to Me

Today is my birthday and my 4th year blogiversary. I thought I would repost a story I shared three years ago on this day. Now that my mom is no longer here, this story is that much more precious to me. Here is the story of my birth, and the miracle that happened after, as told by my mom...

On a rainy March 14th morning around 5 a.m. I was awakened out of my sleep to a soaking wet bed; my water had broken. Contractions began almost immediately and by 7 a.m. I was on my way to the hospital. By 8:15 a.m. I had very quickly delivered a healthy beautiful 7 lbs 5 oz baby girl. As I lay in recovery I was elated that I not only had had an easy delivery but a precious baby girl

My excitement however was short lived as pain began to engulf my body. The nurses first kept telling me it was after-birth pains. I tried to tell them it wasn’t because the pains were in my right leg, but they thought I was imagining it, until the pains became so intense I had to be rushed into surgery. There it was discovered that the doctor who had done the episiotomy, had by accident cut the main blood supply to my right leg and not knowing this had happened, stitched me up, and a blood clot the size of a baseball had formed. After the surgery I was placed in a private room for rest.

Around 8 that evening I suddenly felt faint, and literally could feel death overtaking me. The nurses quickly pulled back the cover to discover that my bed was saturated in blood. Hurrying my bed out of the room they tried to take my pulse, and found it only read 60 over 0. They looked at each other and said “this one is a goner”. At that moment I cried out to God in faith, I couldn’t imagine my little girl growing up and I wouldn’t be there with her, or our son. Immediately on the tile ceiling over head of me in the hall a vision appeared of Jesus and the women who touched his garment with an issue of blood and was made whole. I said “Lord, if you can do it for her, you can do it for me”.

Into the operating room I was pushed, and the surgeon who was waiting for me was amazed to discover that on its own the bleeding had stopped. By this time I had lost so much blood my body was in shock. I was very blue, very cold and my veins had collapsed. I was wrapped in oven warmed blankets and they began to give me blood transfusions only to discover my temperature had dropped so low, they had to put the blood in ice water to match my body temperature so the veins would not sting as badly.

Through this ordeal they were surprised that I never lost consciousness, but an inner voice told me it would be alright and not to go to sleep, and there was an overwhelming sense of peace. I had tried to speak to one of the nurses that my husband and I knew, but she told the doctor she didn’t know me. The next day she dropped by my room to apologize for not recognizing me. The doctor who worked on me came into my room , looked my way and went out, to ask the nurses where I was. He couldn’t believe I was the same lady. As news spread through the hospital, nurses from different floors came by to see the lady who fought death and survived. It gave us then and still now a wonderful testimony of God’s faithfulness.

Another Goodbye

Today our international student moved out.

C has been dreading this day for the last week and has begged him many times to not leave. She becomes so attached to the students we host, that I often wonder if we should be putting her through the painful goodbyes.

This last student has been amazing, and the brother-sister bond that he and C developed was deeper than the other students we have hosted. He wanted to do things with her and never seemed bothered by her crazy overwhelming energy that tires me out.

Yesterday morning C was eating breakfast when he left for school As he shut the door on his way out of the house, C yelled with a mouthful of food...

"Love you!"

I was shocked. I wondered if he heard, let alone if he would respond. There was an uncomfortable pause and then the door opened back up and he yelled back.

"Love you!"

As the door shut again, she hollered.

"I said I LIKE you."

Who needs a snow blower?

"I think HB (our international student) is on the computer."

"That's fine C. He's allowed."

"I think he's plotting against us."

"Plotting what?"

"I don't know. He's probably emailing his mother telling her how horrible we are."

"Horrible? Why would he think we're horrible?"

"Because we make him shovel the driveway."

I told C that we don't make him shovel, he does it on his own and likes to because back home, they do not get much snow. I guess I need to watch who's listening when I joke about not needing a snow blower because our student shovels the driveway.

Soccer is Not an Indoor Sport

I'm a big fan of the artist Sandra Kuck and own a few of her plates which have been given to me over the years. My favourite being the 4 plate Victorian Christmas series that I display on our fire place mantel during Christmas. The plates are usually the last decorations to be packed away (sometime in February) because I find the Christmas season is not a long enough time for me to enjoy them. This year...I wish I had packed them away with the other decorations....

Last weekend C and our current homestay student were playing in the loft with a soccer ball. It seemed so harmless...they were passing the ball back and forth. I was downstairs when I had a prompting that I should get them to settle down...but ignored it. Surely they would know to keep the ball on the ground...

Then I heard the sound I never wanted to hear...the sound of something breakable falling and smashing. I knew there was only one thing in that room that would make that noise...my beloved plates. And there on the floor was the first plate in the series smashed to pieces. Our student was horrified, hubby and I were a little speechless, and C talked for all of us...asking if it was rare and wondered if we could glue it back together.

I know it was an accident. Accidents happen. I'm sure we all have broken something that was not ours (I totalled my parents car when I was younger). There was nothing I could do about it now. I'll just have to look on ebay or in the secondary markets.

C kept asking me if it was rare. I tried to avoid the question as I didn't want to make our student feel any worse. Eventually I told her that it would be hard to replace, to which she went off downstairs. After the mess was cleaned up, C returned and proudly presented me with a gift from behind her back.

Her rendition of the plate. I couldn't help but laugh as she set her artwork in the plate stand and said..."When you get a real new one, we'll have to get a stand for this one so we can keep displaying it."