God will provide.

Dad was one of the greatest storytellers I have ever known. He told stories to share his history, to teach, and to entertain. Most of the time, a single story did all three. Though his stories were told as truths, some of them featured legendary characters, and were really more than stories - they were parables.

He had a whole collection of stories featuring one of his college roommates, Paul.

The lesson from these stories was always the same: God will provide.

The stories went something like this: From a young age, Paul was an accomplished preacher in his own right. Paul was also the son of a renowned, amazing preacher. The older preacher's stomping grounds included that most-unlikely location for a man of God - the city of New Orleans. Despite all-manner of obstacles, neither Paul nor his father ever seemed to worry or doubt. Regardless of how bleak the situation appeared, they simply proceeded doing the work of God, knowing that He would provided whatever it was that was required. And He always did.

Dad told a number of these stories, ranging from he and Paul having enough food to eat as starving college students, to a congregation losing its facility and almost not having a place to worship. Whatever the story, the ending was always the same - Paul kept going and didn't worry, because, "God will provide."

Fast forward to Dad's funeral. The legendary Paul preached the perfect service for his long-time friend. He shared his notes with me before he left the graveside, and I have found great comfort in his words, particularly his closing prayer:

Holy Father, creator of all that is,

whose Son is our redeemer

and whose Holy Spirit is our strength

- three in one -

comfort us in our loss.

Give us your strength as we deal with the days ahead.

Fill us with memories of happier times.

Remind us of childhood romps and school day challenges.

Remind us of hugs and smiles and encouragement.

Thank you for letting us have Melvin in our lives
for far too short a time.

Help us to be to someone else what he has been for us.

Amen

I hadn't heard from Paul in several weeks until today. One year ago today we buried Daddy. Three days ago we passed the first anniversary of Dad's death. My mother and I have both dreaded that anniversary for months. When it finally came, it wasn't nearly as bad as we thought it would be. Today I found out why.

You see, Paul was at it again. I received this from him :

I have been thinking about all of you this week. Our whole family remembered to pray for you every day during the holiday. We asked God to give you comfort, peace and good memories.

We had a wonderful holiday full of comfort, peace, and good memories.

God will provide.

An Extraordinary Year

My Christmas journal has several pages on which to record each year's Christmas festivities. In the last few years, I have used it mainly as a place to record a list of the cards I have sent and received. So, as I showed the book to a friend recently, I was taken aback to see what I wrote in 2000, the year I started the journal. 

"Our beloved 'Big Mama' (my maternal grandmother) had a devastating stroke in mid-April and died on July 6.

To quote Poppa in this year's Christmas letter, 'We've had some extraordinary years, all happy, but some not so much as others. This year has been one of the not-so-much-as others.'"

Poppa was right. This year was definitely one of the not-so-much-as-others, but we have lived each day of it surrounded by the love and support of our family and friends. Though we will certainly miss Poppa today, we plan to have a very Merry Christmas - just as he would want all of us to do!

Christmas Candy

A couple of weeks ago, I realized with horror that no one was going to be making any Martha Washington candy for me. I was disappointed, but I knew that we have Dad's recipe, and we could make them if I had to have them. I mentioned the lack of candies to a friend on the phone and one of the girls overheard me. From the look on my daughter's face, I knew we had to get busy making Martha Washingtons soon. But I still didn't do it. 

Then, my friend called to ask if she could help make the candy. We set a date to make Martha Washingtons. We gathered our supplies, including the tiny paper candy cups into which each candy ball is carefully placed. 

Marcus found a recipe for peanut butter balls dipped in chocolate, and we decided to make those, too. Dad did not usually make peanut butter balls, but he did have a nickname for them. 

Most people call them "Buckeyes", but not Dad. 

He called them "Rosalynn Carters." You see, if our traditional candies are "Martha Washingtons", and these are very similar size, shape, and outer coating, they must also be named for a First Lady...and since they are made of peanut butter, they must be named for the wife of the President who was a peanut farmer. 

Only Dad could find a way to work Presidential trivia into candy-making. 

Christmas in Nam

Thirty-nine years ago, Dad wrote one of his group letters (he used a stack of carbon paper to type several letters at once). One of his college roommates sent me his copy last week. I have seen some of Dad's letters from Vietnam, but this one was new to me. It is so full of what I think of as "typical Dad" that I had to share this with all of you.

Bien Hoa

12 Dec. 1969

Hello Everybody,

Well, only 13 shopping days till Christmas--for whatever that is worth to you. 

Christmas in Nam--what an experience.

Well, I hate (not really) to tell you, but if you don’t mind, please change the way you address letters to me. I’m now SP5 Rhodes--Specialist Five--same as buck sargeant--I was given a choice--be promoted in November as SP5 or wait till Dec and be made Sgt. And I would rather get higher pay a month early (same pay for both) and not be called Sarge.  I still wonder if it was worth going up to Quan Lon for last month---but as I didn’t get hit, it was.

That  blankety-blank Charlie---pulled a rocket attach on us this morning at 6:30---and blast it-- I had to get up---and I usually stay in the rack till 6:45. 

War-wise all has been exceptionally quiet---the Cav is only pulling defense all over the map now----but few guys are getting injured.

I caught a bum rap this morning----I had to go to the airport with the Chaplain to tell a man that his son died of Meningitis. We got there only about thirty minutes before the man’s plane left. He was going home on emergency leave to see his son. He took it quite well---I suspect he went into shock and somebody on that plane is going to have to do a lot of talking in the 22 hours before it reaches the world. 

Our office is decorated---and the holiday season is here. I wornder how many other guys over here are comparing this year with last---and feeling cynical.

Christmas in Nam

is getting all your presents in November,

is opening all your presents in November 

   (just kidding---Scout’s honor!)

is getting 14 Christmas cards---all from the same sorority,

is planning on an all day drunk,

is fearing the Vietnamese Air Force 

  will think Santa is a Trojan Horse,

is putting together a model Huey Cobra,

is dyeing your moustache red and green,

is putting an angel on top of a bamboo sprout,

is mailing out Army Christmas cards,

is seeing an ACAV with a colored bow on top,

is wondering if your gifts got home in time,

is know you’re not gonna get a stocking full of goodies,

is saying “Peace”

is wondering if you’ll get to see Bob Hope,

is “desiring” to see the dames in his troupe,

is eating in a decorated mess hall,

is hoping for a picture of your gal, and getting a note-book,

is eating your buddies’ fruit cake,

is reading a book on the battle of Bastegne

is hoping for a new Nero Wolfe mystery,

is writing your Draft Board, “Wish you were here,”

is getting chocolate covered raisins,

is getting mail twice a day,

is crossing off another day,

is saying, “Wait till next year!”,

is far, far, from home.

And even though we miss him every day, I'm certain Dad isn't crossing off days and feeling far, far from home this year. 

Oh, Christmas Tree...

I love Christmas lights. I don't hang a lot of lights on my own home, but I have loved seeing what other people do to their homes for years. Some of our family Christmas trips were as memorable for the lights we passed as for the destination. 

Our first Christmas here, I heard about some unusual lights - very large, round lights in a tree shape. I had never seen anything like these lights.  I drove by the house during the day to try to get a better look. The house was well back from the road, and the yard was heavily wooded. I couldn't see much. 

The next year, I took Mom & Dad to see the lights. Much to my husband's horror, Dad & I went back the next day and invited ourselves into the yard to get a better look. To our delight, we discovered that the trees appeared to be made of easily obtainable materials. 

Dad & I designed and made our own trees. They are so beautiful - in that over-the-top-multicolored-Christmas-tree sort of way. I haven't hung mine for the last couple of years, but I hung it tonight.

My son has made several trips outside just to look at it "one more time." I have a feeling it will be up every year from now on.