An Old Standard… “The Christmas Wish Book”

Here in North America children could hardly wait for the publishing and distribution of the “Christmas Wish Books” put out by the two major Department stores. Well… there were two as I grew up in Eastern Canada! I am not aware of the advent of the books, but in the 1950s through the 1980s at least, they were a thing of joy, to be awaited by most children, regardless of economic status or cultural background. What held the interest of children during those years, was the seemingly unending well of potential of things to ask Santa for. It was hard to imagine how Santa could carry all those varieties of toys, along with other requests worldwide, to all those children on Christmas Eve. Perhaps, that was not utmost in our minds at the time, but oh what a wonder it all was to receive the notice of that catalog, to be had the next time our parents entered the catalog office in our local towns, or at the nearby Post Office.

Each child had their own way of marking an item to make sure “their” wishes were noted and in many cases, added to the list which Santa would receive before Christmas. No one wanted to be missed and though on many occasions (more than we would want to realize even now perhaps) those wishes did not come true for all. Yet, come the fall of the year, there was a new potential for a list to be made, even if what had been wished the previous year had not been received. Many of us in our country have watched the movie “Miracle on 34^th Street”. In that wonderful Christmas movie, though very fanciful in nature, the mother tells her small daughter not to lose hope, but instead, to keep on believing.

I have often wondered where that bit of reassuring advice has gotten many of the have-nots through the years; those who have looked at the proverbial “Wish Books” of this world, and found life to remain “still lacking” at the end of the day? Do you remember what you looked at, in hope, for Christmas? Depending upon the generation you were born into, your culture, economic situation, and family environment, there could be many variables. I was born into an upper lower class family who had to struggle but made their way at a reasonable level of comfort in life. There were “things” that I wanted as I poured through the Wish Book on its arrival. One year, in particular, I must have been on a pirate theme mode during the pre-Christmas season. I wanted a sword for Christmas. My idea of a sword was one that could be hung on my belt and wielded with gusto at any opposing foe that dared cross my path. At that age, as I was only about 10 years old, it seemed like the “foe” lurked in every corner of the community. I didn’t get what I expected, though I did get a sword. It was ornamental, not as practical as I had hoped.

Is there a difference between getting what we want and receiving practical alternatives that may at the time not seem to fit the bill? Truly, during the moment of discovery, especially for a youngster who has received the “As good as” items, many will try to put on a surprised face, showing a modicum of elation at the thought put into the gift, but there is always a hint of disappointment that is registered. Some may say, it is quite often more than a hint, but I am trying to stay “soft” on my appraisal of the situation. We grow up with hopes, dreams, and desires, which we all register to a certain degree. It is not always enough to receive just the “second best” or “as good as” alternatives for dreams or deep down wishes in life. There are many avenues of advancing our character and not all are the “best” or most helpful. It is up to each individual to make their own way steadfastly into the future, and not all disappointments tend to send us down a better path in life. Disappointments, due to lack of fulfillment of every wish need not be a “game killer” but may merely be a “game changer”… We need to know the difference if we are going to thrive, not just survive.

Back to that sword; I was disappointed, though I tried to laugh while being told that I couldn’t take it outdoors to play. It hung on my bedroom wall for years and is now hanging on our cottage wall where I can see it whenever I visit there. The level of disappointment I felt then has been outweighed by the joy I now feel, being reminded of the care, thought and resourcefulness that my parents put into getting that sword for me. They understood that a real sword, though part of my utopian wish list, might only get me into trouble, far deeper than being bullied by neighbourhood kids. There is a superficiality to our wishes most times that may well border on the ridiculous, to say the least. Have you noted that in your life thus far? We oft base what we want far outside the perimeters of what is reasonable, based on both need and financial viability. I have dreamed (wished for) about many things in life and some of those things which I helped come to fruition, have not always been the best choices for myself or my family in the larger picture. Most would echo some of those same sentiments, I am sure. After all, we are creatures of a hedonistic nature… more is better, and I want what I want.

I digress as per usual! “Game changers” can often be viewed as disappointments, but more often can hold forth great potential for growth. Those Christmas Wish Books were pretty well worn out when Christmas day arrived. Looking back, I know that so was much of the staple clothing which I received the previous Christmas was ending their cycle of life. Under the tree we found new outfits, meaning jeans, shirts, and the necessities that made everyday life a bit more tenable. While not always receiving what we wanted every year, there were those Christmas’ that afforded us new opportunities, or enhanced opportunities, that were quite unexpected. As a youth I skated on a small brook (yes, thin ice!), the ice-covered dirt road in front of our home, and even our driveway, if it was ice-covered in the winter. Now that was hard on skate blades! The year I got new skates that fit, I was allowed to join the neighbourhood kids to go to the “Crusher” to skate. It was a large pond where teens and adults alike gathered to skate, play hockey, and socialize, in a period that spanned many decades, until the town built first a new outdoor rink and then the “new arena” (now several decades old).

Those skates allowed me to reach a new level of proficiency, I learned to play hockey, and because of that, I enjoyed many weekends joining adults playing hockey on nearby lakes and ponds in my teenage years. I was later asked to play on the High School Hockey Team under the tutelage of a gentleman who came from the L.A. Kings farm team and was teaching in our High School at the time. Skates helped expand my athletic abilities, taught me the importance of team effort, a balance taught me the importance of single effort versus playing cooperatively.

Today, (meaning in this time in history) there are still wishes being made. I was surprised when I went to the mail and received a new style “Wish Book” this fall. It was not like the old standbys of days gone by, it was new, up-to-date and all the pages were shiny thick paper, displaying the latest of items to attract the interest and desires of this generation’s children. Our grandchildren came to visit and spent only a short time looking at the book. I was both surprised and interested at first. It did not take long to realize that they had a different set of values upon which they based their wishes. I am not saying that they are “perfect” or above wanting “great stuff” , but they have a sense that there are simple things, within both the reach of their parents and well within the practical needs that they face day to day. Just like the need to have a slate for school in the 1920s, now children grow up with electronic devices that are almost a must if they are to keep up with what is taking place in the classroom. I do not cringe at that reality, for I took on computer studies in 1980 and have never looked back since. So, I have an appreciation for the basic value of having technology that will “help” advance our children, within the confines of education being the main justification driving their purchase and not mere entertainment as a provision for child care to keep them busy and out from under-foot.

Do I wish for anything anymore? Yup! Ok, a bit over the top with my rudimentary vocabulary, but it is realistic… I do say yup! I do also have dreams and wishes that seem like both a good idea and as holding potential for a reasonable dividend in life. My sounding board happens to be my wife, and helpmate, in daily decision making. Lots of things are possible, but just like that “real sword”, not all things are reasonable or tenable in life. I find it necessary most days to take time to “temper” my thoughts, to solidify both my ideals and my ideas on solid ground, beyond those superficialities that tend to creep in. When driven by mere whims, without testing either validity or necessity, we often find a great toll bring taken on our lives.  Over-extending oneself physically or financially can make the difference in how the future advances.

So, do I grab the local “new” wish book after the grandkids have finished looking? No, I stick to an even older standard “wish book” that has always been my guide in life... God’s Word!  There I find the recipe for life that holds within both the wonders of the Christmas Season and the steps on how to gain the gift that gives “Life”; not only in eternity but also in abundance from day to day. I don’t always keep to the program; I like most in life fall down, turn a blind eye, close my hearing to the soft whisper of God’s voice in my daily living, thus missing the mark.  But, I believe, I pray for forgiveness for both what I have done and what I have left undone and even those things that I may not be aware of myself. I don’t believe in Santa Clause! Oh, the shame of it… well, I feel no shame… I believe in a greater gift-giver and try my best to follow the path that will one day take me home to my final rest. Yes, under a Christmas tree will be presents, but surrounding me will be those greater gifts, provided by a God who loves, who has provided, and continues to provide all I need in a family, friends, and supporters who pray for me and mine.

What is found in your “Wish Book” this Christmas Season? Everything in mine is free… yes FREE for the asking. Unlike those “others”, in God’s Word, there are actually two wishes found present. One is God’s wish for us, fulfilled in the “Christ” of the promise given, and the other is His wish to have us worship Him as “King of Kings “and “Lord of Lords” … through that infant King in Bethlehem’s manger. It is not an easy decision for some to realize in their lives. To call upon a “Heavenly Father- God” when their earthly father may have disappointed them, a barrier often more than difficult to both approach and overcome has been erected; it is a powerful deterrent to belief. But, like life’s situations present, there is a need to approach the edge sometimes. There is something that draws most to find answers when the fear of knowing makes the exploration necessary to do so, less than justifiable. But, I find that I need to walk near the edge most days. I get too comfortable in quiet solitude, content to be static, surrounded by what is, and not hearing the voice of life beckoning me outside of my comfort zone. I always need the guiding hand of God… that is the gift He gives; a guiding hand is a great gift indeed, and it will never be found in those old “Traditional Wish Books”, or their modern counterparts today. Will you search for answers in the “Greatest Wish Book” this Season? God still grants wishes… He does for me, as ask I PRAY and ask! Give it a try… there near the edge, it can be scary but the view from there is sure peaceful!

New Dreams Built on Old Foundations

Not all childhoods are spent in an environment with total freedom to explore, while running wild with imagination, and the vastness of primarily secure surroundings. I’ve experienced the other side of the coin; where there seems to be a cheerless, empty survival of the fittest. Not wanting to label such circumstances as void of all context of joy, I am reminded of the smiles on thousands of happy faces, bringing my negative instincts to a sharp halt. Not all joy is found to have the same basis of definition both present, and holding equal validity, for the people finding their own mode of comfort in self-entertainment.  For example; one may love to sit reading in the park, surrounded by serenity with only birds and squirrels as company, while basking in both basic silence away from the bustling crowds, and the solitude of nature. Others may long for the high energy of a crowded city, where the constant movement of both time and progression, gives little room for static indifference to one's surroundings. Even the forgotten elderly there find a reason to have a concern; time brings change and development that become a constant threat to the comfort of familiarity, as transformation in both sustainability, and definition of viable financial expansion, are the driving forces behind most change.

 

In my own 60 plus years of exploration, wandering and simple dream weaving, there have been moments of the overwhelming wildness of nature at its best, while standing near, beside or under some of earth’s best wonders to behold. On the flip side, there have been moments of bitter sadness where a loss of words can be the only explanation for my utter silence. If I were a small child, I know that I would have been standing; squeezing my mother’s hand, trying to fathom the difference between what I had only somewhat understood and what I now realized was the situation of millions of others on this earth. But, here again is the tension found in both understanding our circumstances, and that of others, and in doing so discover the realization that joy is found in innovation within the environment we have. I want to return to that thought in a moment.

In my young adulthood, I asked questions about past generations. I was likely having an awakening, a transformation where my dislike for history faded, as I finally began to find context for both family and community. As I matured and my local human sources for research began to diminish, a new acceleration, in the form of family history and genealogy entered my life. Now present was the true context I needed to bring a more substantive validity to what I had always known to be gnawing at my soul. I wanted to know what stood on those old cellars, those old foundations that were the platforms for new beginnings, while holding in their walls untold adversity, but also laughter in the midst of trial, temptation and hardship. Today, my imagination does not run as wild as it once did, when I could hear laughter while surrounded by old cut stones of family home once erected with such vibrant dreams or while amidst rough gravestones with flowing tears, as I read the names of infant children lost to flu epidemics, then reducing family numbers, as it spread throughout numerous communities during certain years.

But, building new dreams on old foundations is not always about just history alone. I have the good fortune of not just survival, but growth, even through adversity as well. My personal journey has been fraught with challenges, hardships, and pitfalls that have made the journey both challenging and disheartening throughout. Yet like the rest of the world, I have found joys abundant, not dependent upon the definition of others, but in self-definition. It is somewhat like the picture we have in our minds, projected in TV ads in support of the hungry children of the world. They go from crying starving children to happy kids playing with old rims and a push stick, just like I played with in my own childhood. Perhaps I used an old car tire in place of a steel barrel rim; nevertheless I found joy in playing. I have a life-mate (My Wife) who has made the journey both tenable and more importantly satisfying; holding for me possibility more than an average lifestyle that is not based on monetary wealth, but family, friends, and circumstance supported and made possible by untold blessings. That is another story; I digress!

This year has been a year of opportunity. Time and tide wait for no man… or so the old saying relates. But, in the midst of waiting, we find ourselves (if we are seriously supportive of our personal situations… LOL) in a constant mode of reducing, repair or replace; which has been my situation in the past several years of retirement. One of the blessings in our family years ago was the opportunity to have a cottage home during my furloughs from ministerial demands. I know, it was merely a vacation, but our small bit of nature on the edge of beautiful harbour overlooking the great Atlantic Ocean and a remote ancient lighthouse on the tip of a nearly deserted island, became more than a mere retreat. It was, and has remained a haven for healing both physical and spiritual for me and I hope my family. For years we have enjoyed great neighbours across a small section of wooded area, not 100 yards from our summer home. They are precious gems and loving friends. One small cottage below us had been empty since the death of the owner some 17 years ago. That has changed in the past month.

Our cottage (Sumer residence that has turned into a fall residence the past few years) became a viable home with a modern footprint over the years. It is situated in a remote area that was once an active bustling little micro-community with a Post Office, blacksmith shop and a wharf, where fish were landed and perhaps even processed many years ago. Years took its toll and change did take place. Nowadays there are some remaining old homes, some new homes and lots of old foundations, deserted wells, now filled in and even I believe a few scattered tombstones. We embrace the warmth of most of the residents and find comfort in the blooming friendship of our new neighbours who have taken possession of the long-vacant cottage across the field from us.

It is so interesting to meet new folks and find out their ideas on both cottage life and management. We are in an area where wood heat (due to the local availability of the fuel) is second nature to the residents. Our new neighbours are more city-oriented though perhaps somewhat versed about wood heat. I chuckled to find that the gentleman, who loves the woodland, is actually a tree hugger. It is quite the feat to cross the line from the love of maintaining the forest and wanting to burn them for fuel, but the tensions created by that decision may have to be dealt with, as his own woodland holds potential as a resource for his burning needs. Excuse the pun!

Change is inevitable and we have little control over many of those changes. Some of the reason is found in our own lack of watchfulness over what is going on around us and suddenly the overwhelming stress of keeping up, catches up with us. We live in a fast-paced world. We surround ourselves with modern technology, yet we may be leaning toward a more traditional lifestyle that would better suit our personal needs or interest. Moving away from modern, centralized centers, and finding solace, comfort, and healing in a more isolated region, can create a fascinating alternative that calls to one’s basic value of life being lived.

My new neighbour asked about my writing. When the inquiry was made about what the blog was called, he beamed a deep smile as the realization hit that there was a fascinating relationship between the blog tile and the location of our cottage. For both that couple (our new neighbours) and the established friendship of another close neighbourhood couple, only a stone’s throw from us, a strong correlation between the old and the new many be found. Every year the sad moment arrives when my wife and I make our way back to our winter home, leaving behind dear friends and our lovely remote retreat. It has always been my dream to live there full time, but the courage to make that drastic a change, when we have always lived in a more central location, lays heavy upon our hearts. So, for now, we are seasonal residents only. The foundations of our lives are built on faith, hope, and trust. Does that make the insecurity with a move like that questionable if we can talk the talk and not walk the walk? I am reminded that health issues are of concern as well, but others in the area are not immune to those issues either. Our present vehicle cannot cross traverse the rough, rutted gravel roads of spring in the area. So, is it just as easy to continue as we do, rather than rearrange life to live out another dream.

For me, it is part of living on the edge. I have to consider the dreams, needs, and preferences of my spouse and helpmate, as decisions about such things are very important and should be made in concert and not as a unilateral choice. It is a fine line to walk, yet to do anything else seems too great a folly to chance in my life. I find deep solace in the joy of sporadic visits to check out our property and do the maintenance, manicure the lawns and such. I find myself almost driven to construct those items that add both convenience and esthetic value; not that looks means much in an isolated area, but we enjoy the value of how things are kept both at our cottage and our urban home.  I take great joy in hearing the words of the former owner as he said, “You are doing all the things here that I dreamed that I might someday do years ago!” That was 25 years back, and it still has great meaning for me as I consider building new dreams on those old foundations, once so important to the original family, who owned over several generations, much of the area surrounding where our cottage Is located.

It takes much courage to take a leap of faith. Our new neighbours told us that the decision was not an easy one to make. There are so many variables, so many stumbling blocks that can crop up, but it was a combination of a beautiful vista, a dream to reduce the business of life and believe it or not two sets of wonderful, open, helpful and receptive neighbours. It does not take a rocket scientist to figure out that the true recipe for both comfort and joy in neighbourhood is being what you expect from others. We live life alongside an ocean that is constantly changing.  Such is life and as the waves of change along with the tides of time bring new experiences, we learn to take a few chances building new dreams, even if they are only in small steps at a time. With faith and reliance upon God, and those He places along our paths, many of those new dreams can and do come true. New dreams can be built on some very old foundations and the view from there, though challenging, can be magnificent.

“Lest We Forget”… Yet We Do!

“I remember”…. What a great note to start on eh! (My Canadian heritage kicking in… eh!) At a very early age, I accompanied my Dad to the Remembrance Day Services in our town. It was something that was made very special by our school system even back then. Each year it seemed that there was a level of pride in being able to remember and quote the epic poem “In Flanders Fields”. I am not altogether sure just when I memorized the poem… and that is part of the problem. “Stuff” clogs our days with both duties and experiences; many of which are self-actuated or within the realm of expected responsibility taking into consideration our individual circumstance.

You likely understand that I write, and am read, cross-culturally. I have had the opportunity to experience the unknown variables of language and ethnic definition, that I faced (and that others face) as we interacted on various levels; being social, academic and business. It was an eye-opener on many fronts and my ability to adjust, or acclimatize, was tested on more than one occasion. One example that has had a lasting effect on me is the value of family and the higher achy found within. In my North American Anglo-Saxon environment, there are many variables, and they express themselves freely within limits of moral and social customs. I digress!

Life, in whatever culture, is filled with duties, expectation and moments of personal time, as we live out our lives. This present North American generation lives in a different level of economic climate than those did before us. The only parallel might have been found in the post Second World War era in the United States, where an “economic boom” changed the lives of millions. That is not to say that everyone in North America is financially “SET” and has abundant cash to spend… that is a misnomer held by some that I have met in my travels and is not true any more than it is in most other cultures. We spend valuable time, as best fits the situation, within both present environment and those cultural expectations by which we identify ourselves trying to live within our means.

I have been amazed while travelling in other countries, that there have been various methods of recorded history for instance. In some cultures, even in N.A. there was or perhaps still is, a substantive importance placed oral history. It took a lot of time to memorize the details, yet it was done. Today people are becoming interested in both family and the roots found in genealogical research. There are many avenues to do research and not all are both accurate and reliable. I have been researching the genealogy of my family since I was asked to take over from my Mom about 30 years ago. She wrote letters, made phone calls and made personal visits in her quest to find answers to the questions arising from her searches. Today things have changed, and with those changes that have come, searches have been made easier; though inherent within these new avenues, comes inaccuracies that are not easy to overcome for the fast-food mentality of N.A. society today.

In dealing with genealogy I am frustrated with inaccurate information being proliferated by those who decide not to take the time to do further research. People often take information found at mere face-value, and this becomes part of the history relied upon by following generations. I caution many who have contacted me for information and I remind all that most information beyond 3-4 generations can be suspect without accurate source material. One example is found in the errors found in vital statistics in many generations over the years. There will always be someone, who for whatever reason, does not undertake due-diligence in their method or accuracy in the collection of the stats for demographics in certain areas… and … those areas may fall within the scope of our research.

Still digressing…. LOL! My Dad served overseas, in the Armed Forces, during the Second World War. He lost a much younger brother, late in the closing year of the war. He died as a prisoner of war as he worked in a bombed arms factory which was destroyed by friendly fire. It greatly affected my Dad who was then working in Aldershot England, with the Royal Canadian Electrical and Mechanical Engineers. While he was preparing for the invasion and repairing all types of mobile unites, my uncle was in the heat of the battle. I think that bothered my Dad and he talked little about the war for many years. He remembered his brother, other family members, neighbours; the others who lost their lives in battle while he stayed basically safe in England.

So, we attended the service for many years together. He marched the sloped mile, up to his 90^th year, from the local Royal Canadian Legion to the cenotaph in our town. Finally, the service was moved inside, as our ageing soldiers found it difficult to both walk the distance and stand for long periods of time. In his later years, we attended even as he needed a wheelchair, following a stroke. The numbers of veterans were diminishing and old friends were passing away, still he wanted to attend. The wonder of it all is that though we live in a small town the numbers of attendees have not diminished. There is a desire to remember on that special day each year. The question arises; do we remember what exactly it is that we are remembering? For many it is a certain family member; mostly within a generation or two at most. Toddlers who help their parents, as they make their way to the now mobile cenotaph (brought in for the occasion) with a wreath in memory of fallen ones, have little or no realization of what it is all about. I often wonder how many of those parents tell the stories of their veteran (family) relation that has perhaps been shared with them, while living memories remained sharp and accurate.

Someone was told lately that I had a living memory of my Dad’s experiences overseas. While there is a level of truth to that, as I can quote both his regimental acronyms and his personal identification numbers, there is more to it than just a few smatterings of information. Grandchildren may need to know regiment and other information surrounding his enlistment for university applications. But most are reticent to take the time to learn more of who their granddad was and what he did to serve both queen and country (both of which are of less importance in following generations) in his personal emotional war, well inside the experience of serving overseas in WWII. Life in England, I found much later, was very important to my Dad. He went back in the 1980s to visit the family he stayed with in Wales, while on furlough during his 1940-45 deployment. That Welsh family gave him hands-on support, when immediate family could not, due to his being separated from them by the Atlantic Ocean.

He told me stories that will forever be etched in my mind, and in their sharing, they made it possible for me to remember the importance of being aware more than only one day of the year. They have become part of my own identity as his son, and the heir to his memories and the legacy of freedom, which he helped to gain for me and the following family. I am not sure what he was expecting on his return to England and Wales. He found a new situation present both economically and socially. He found in Wales a new family, though interested in his coming, (as they had invited him to come) busy with their lives, and the social and familial life which he had known in the 1940s were then absent. Only the oldest of the children in that family remembered that he had been there. The daughter of the hosting family was still living and still maintained, along with her husband and family the farm that had been home to him while on furlough. He struggled to remember through the changes that had taken place, and after only 3 weeks of a 4 week planned trip, he returned home. He seemed satisfied that he was able to have made the journey back, but I think he realized that with time comes change and change reminds us that memories are made relative by an active remembrance of what was, not by what may now be present.

Thus as I watch the youth of today carrying wreaths and crosses to the cenotaph each year, I wonder what those moments will mean to them in 20 years’ time. I take time to revisit the experiences our veterans, as I watch videos of recorded history from those periods. I am happy that our school systems still invite members of the local legions in to talk about their history, and the history of those deployed in various wars even since WWI and WWII.

I skipped our Sunday Service this year to attend the cenotaph service in our local community. While there I was accompanied by two of my children and their families. Our oldest daughter and her family could not attend this year due to other commitments in their church. I wonder how long before there will be no record of even my own voice reminding my family of my Dad’s request, and my following plea… “do not forget! “

I stand and listen to myself and others around me, echoing in response that familiar phrase from the Veteran’s service, “WE WILL REMEMBER THEM!” Not so long ago, in terms of human history, someone else gave a life, so that others might live. The Christ of “Golgotha” was a singular warrior in a much different battle. He was the only soldier needed, the only soldier capable to fight that universal ongoing battle against indifference to the Creator. I stand in church weekly and ask myself, “Who will there be to remember in 20 years?” as I watch the attendance at Sunday Service become less and less important to today’s generation.  I know that God is sovereign and in the master plan, I know little of where the future will turn around, other than at Christ’s return. Till then I choose to remember. Like Joshua of old (24:15) I echo his sentiment, “… as for me and my house we will serve the Lord!” I think constantly about how I let down my own children too often when I hear the words of that old familiar hymn, “Tell Me the Stories of Jesus”.  One verse states “… write on my heart every word, tell me the story most precious, sweetest that ever was heard.” Thankfully, each of my children carries with them the presence of both the meaning and the value of Christ present, now and then. They remember the Christ in their daily lives and I pray it is not out of convenience, but from a love that is reciprocated back to Him from which it has come.

It is not easy to remember even the important things. It is living on the edge and there are many distractions which can send us spiraling down into a hedonistic life, isolated from that which has been not only an important past, but remains integral to our futures. “I will remember them!”  Lest I forget! Take a walk on the edge… it may be your most important walk.