A Mele Kalikimaka Surprise in Hawaii
Transcription
A Mele Kalikimaka Surprise in Hawaii
The Courier THE COURIER, TUESDAY, DECEMBER 23, 2014 1 Westward ho ho ho! Christmas gift ignites imagination I remember Christmas 1989. It was when our son, Jeremy, was 3 years old. He had gotten a red riding fire truck with ladders on each side that Christmas. It was very exciting for him to receive the fire truck as a gift. He rode it all over our house. Jeremy would pretend the Christmas tree or our furniture was on fire. Then he would put the fire truck beside the object. He then proceeded to climb the ladders against the objects. Well, it was working on everything, until I got to our living room just in time to catch him and the ladder from falling into the tree. He was so proud, and said, “Mommy, I was putting out a fire.” Thank goodness there was no fire. He was just a young child with a giant imagination. He always kept us laughing and giving us memories to keep for years. Then, our two daughters Andrea and Elizabeth got their American Girl dolls that same Christmas. He would try to get their dolls to drive in the fire truck and they said, “No!” It was a fun Christmas for us all, one we all laugh about and hold dear to our hearts. Merry Christmas! Karen Sue Scheiderer Findlay The little wooden box During the 2005 Christmas season, I had a booth reserved at Caesar Creek Flea Market in Wilmington, Ohio, to sell gift items and homemade sugar cream pies. Several thousand people would walk through this “mega market” each weekend. Wanting to spend time with my adult daughter, Heather, she accepted my invitation to help. The market attracted many group outings and each weekend we would witness a parade of people from adult handicap homes, special needs children’s homes and orphanages, along with a variety of less fortunate people. Our hearts were touched, so we purchased a large supply of springoperated mini cars to give away to the children and small novelty gifts for the adults. Our original intent to earn a little extra cash turned into a campaign to distribute a little joy to those in need. The last weekend before Christmas, a little boy who had been a “repeat customer” for free cars approached us with a huge smile on his face. He told us he had been given $5 to go Christmas shopping and he used it to buy us a small wooden carved box as a token of appreciation for giving him gifts. Overwhelmed that he spent his only $5 on us, we humbly accepted the box as tears welled in our eyes. Responding with several hugs, we thanked him for making us feel so very special. When this venture ended, we realized we barely covered our season’s expenses, but our reward of a lifetime’s worth of memories was priceless. I’m still reminded today, as I look at the little wooden box displayed in my kitchen, that keeping Christ in Christmas and obeying his teachings to share his love with others is a fulfillment that fosters true happiness. Jeanie Ploeger Findlay and Heather (Bowman) Hypes Denton, Texas -RKQ%DXHU 2ULRQ%LQGHU 0LFKHOOH%RUJLD A Mele Kalikimaka Surprise in Hawaii Before we went out to visit our son Dave in Hawaii in 1990 for Christmas (it was Dave’s first Christmas in Hawaii after moving to the island of Oahu in April of that same year), our son Doug from Lake Tahoe, California, said he wished he could come out also, but he wouldn’t be able to make it because of his work obligations. While my husband Bob and I were standing on the beach at the Gold Coast of Waikiki, our son Dave was videoing us and kept saying to watch the surfers and snorkelers in the water. One of the snorkelers came out of the water, walked toward us carrying his fins in his hands while still wearing his snorkel mask and started talking to us saying, “That was a long swim, but I finally made it…!” Bob and I were so surprised when this “friendly snorkeler” turned out to be our son Doug, whom we didn’t think would be able to make the trip. It was great our family could be together for a wonderful Hawaiian Merry Christmas (Mele Kalikimaka) and Happy New Year’s (Hauoli Maka Hiki Hou) holiday! I have many memories of trips together through the years with my husband Bob, who passed away this July 15th on his 83rd birthday, his belated twin brother Dick’s birthday and our son Dave’s birthday. Mele Kalikimaka and Hauoli Maka Hiki Hou to all my family and friends!! Ellie Clymer Findlay I could hardly contain my happy emotions when my parents announced we would be spending vacation time traveling to western states and settling in Phoenix, Arizona, until spring. As a 12-year-old girl in 1947 who had never been outside the Ohio border, well, it was beyond wonderful news. What a Christmas this will be! In August, we moved from the farm, attached a Continental house trailer to our new Buick and headed for Chicago on Route 66. Gas was 30 cents a gallon, and the speed limit was 40 mph! My journal was being filled with “never seen before” highlights, and by the time we reached Denver the landscape had drastically changed from flat farmland to mountain ranges, larger cities, and winding roads. Everywhere we ventured seemed like a whole new world of variety. In 1947, Phoenix was not large enough to get lost in. We found a trailer park with a restaurant and during the day drove to see this special wonderland. Glendale, nearby as far as the eye could see, as it is today, is known for its vegetables and citrus groves, fields of fruit and grape arbors. The fields were dotted with water sprinklers. There were irrigation ditches alongside the roads — it all resembled a picture postcard as I tried to put it all on paper, not to miss any important detail. The weather offered a dry heat, and with the car windows down, the aroma of soil, water and vegetation was intoxicating. We were fortunate to see old-fashioned farm trucks and workers as they were gathering in some crops and loaded the crates. Processing buildings were nearby. I quickly realized how beneficial Ohio crops were, as well as southwestern farming, to feed our country’s population. I was fascinated seeing Indians in their traditional clothing. Many had roadside booths selling blankets, rugs, baskets and jewelry they proudly made. Traveling out of town was desert displaying every kind of cactus. It was a mystery to my young mind how such beautiful plants grew in sand, and yet survived. There were birds, bugs and desert critters that were intriguing, but I kept my distance. Back in town were tiny grocery stores, vegetable and fruit markets, which were under tents. Many different nationalities of people, and it was a time of peace. How much I appreciate my parents deciding at that time to explore parts of our country. It was truly a Merry Christmas, and it has lived in my memory almost 70 years. Happy year of 1947. Lila Rose Roszman Marion A valuable lesson about giving A very memorable Christmas for me took place in 1951 when I was 10 years old. My mother took me to a Christmas Eve service at our church in Bluffton. My mother did this with some trepidation, as I had a 4-year-old sister who would be staying home with my father. In my memory, my father had never taken care of me or my sister before and he was not a warm and cuddly type of person. Despite this, we went to church. Upon arriving home, everything was peaceful and quiet. My father told my sister to show her mother what they had done while we were at church. My sister went to our Christmas tree and picked up a shoe box wrapped in newspaper that contained several baby bottles. She told my mother that dad had told her that there were a lot of babies in the world who needed these bottles and that it was time for her to give hers to them. My mother was really skeptical and told Dad that he would have to deal with her when she screamed for her nightly bottle. But not a peep was heard. It was amazing that my father found a perfect solution to a problem they had been dealing with for a couple of years and gave a valuable lesson to my sister as well. Sue Montgomery Findlay Cooking up a good Christmas at Dad’s bakery My favorite Christmas memories revolve around my parents and the small bakery they owned in Fostoria for 16 years. It would begin shortly before Thanksgiving when Dad, a.k.a. Bud Bovee, would happily announce he had made the first batch of fruit cake for the season. Dad had been a baker all his life and Christmas was his favorite time of the year. The day after Thanksgiving began endless rounds of making, icing and decorating cookies, anise and butter cut-outs. Our hands were stained red and green the whole month of December, with some blue and yellow mixed in. -XOLH%RZOLQJ &RQQLH&RWWRQ You see, the Santa cookies were always sprinkled with red sugar, the trees were green, the bells were blue and the stars yellow (because who wants a blue Santa or a green star?), though sometimes I did it just to make him laugh. Closer to Christmas would be the cakes, cupcakes and petit fours decorated with bells, poinsettias, holly and, though I didn’t know it at the time, some of the best memories of my life. Mom spent her time in the store area, happily decorating the show window for the holiday and filling the cases with seasonal treats of sweet rolls, pies, cakes, 6WHOOD'XGDVK -/(ZLQJ %UHQGD)DLQH breads and cookies. I spent my share of time in the store too, but we were both there because of Dad. Mom always said he was born with flour in his veins. As a teenager, I took working alongside Dad at the bakery as an everyday occurrence and even did my share of complaining about the early morning hours, no later than 6 a.m. I wish I would have realized just how special that time was. Oh, what I would give to spend one more day in that sweet smelling building with Dad laughing at my blue and yellow Santa cookies. Jodee Paxton Findlay 6DOO\)LW]JHUDOG .ULVWLH)R[ 6WHSKDQLH*RHEHO Photo provided to The Courier by KRISTY SZKUDLAREK Sawyer scribbles to Santa My son, Sawyer, turned 4 on November 23. This year, he was so excited to write his own letter to Santa. He told me what he wanted to say, and I helped with spelling. But, he wrote every letter with such determination. In case you cannot read it: “Dear Santa, I would like a gup s, r, o. Sawyer.” Fingers crossed that Santa watches Disney Jr. and Octonauts! — Kristy Szkudlarek Findlay .HOO\+DDVH -RKQ:+DUULQJWRQ *DU\+D\GHQ 7LIIDQ\+ROGJUHYH %HFN\-RKQV Oak`af_qgmYn]jqE]jjq;`jakleYk^add]\oal` gd\f]oljY\alagfkYdac]&L`Yfcqgm^gjqgmj Zmkaf]kkZ]kloak`]k^gjY@YhhqF]oQ]Yj 0ZWUW]ZNIUQTa\WaW]Z[ -DPHV.RHKOHU (YHUHWW/DWWD %RQQLH.RHKOHU 'HE/LVDZD -DPHV&.RHKOHU,, %URNHU .LP/HHSHU &DURO/RDFK 6WHYH/RDFK %DUEDUD/RFNDUG .ULVWLQ:/RSH] 0RQLFD0HW]JHU $DURQ0XUUD\ &DURO2VERUQH 6XH5LQHKDUW .DWK\$5XVVHOO /\QQ6RSKHU 'LDQQD6WDUU -LP6WHZDUG .HOO\7D\ORU 3HQQ\/7UXPS\&'3( 7LIÀQ$YH)LQGOD\2+FHQWXU\NRHKOHUDQGDVVRFLDWHVFRP,QGHSHQGHQWO\2ZQHG2SHUDWHG /LDO9ROVFK %LOO9ROVFK /LNHXVRQ)DFHERRN 2 CHR ISTM AS MEMOR IES THE COURIER TUEsday, dECEMBER 23, 2014 The angels waited for Bud God sent an This will be the third Christmas without him: “Bud,” as he was known all his life. He was my wife susan’s brother, my brother-in-law, but he always introduced me as his brother when we went out together. Backtrack to November 2012. Up until this time he had married, had two children, been divorced and had a grandchild. There was a telephone call one cold November evening from his son, aaron, and Bud was out in the emergency room at Blanchard Valley Hospital. It was hard to see this shrunken shell of a man we all knew and loved. Bud was moved to an intensive care unit room. after several sessions with the doctors, we learned that he had lost around 80 pounds and was not able to eat any longer. What was it? That word everyone dreads to hear: cancer. He had endured it for many months. Outside the ICU, the lights of Christmas were ablaze, the snow was falling and the shoppers were running home with their treasures, as the seasonal song goes. I dared not try to think what was passing through the mind of susan, sitting there waiting for the doctors to come, at last with her brother in a quiet setting: one of them unresponsive and the other wondering why this had to be and what force of nature took his strength. Three weeks after many attempts to save him, hope was gone. He was transferred to a peaceful room in the hospice unit. No more tubes to deal with and a relief that he was being watched over and sleeping peacefully. He awoke that evening and susan was there. He believed that he was in his new apartment and as much as she never wanted to deceive him, she let him believe that; her last gift to him. He spent only one night in that room. He passed early the following morning. sue noticed a soft, peaceful look on his face as if he was just taking a nap. His skin was soft. after a little while she thought she noticed a mist or puff of air emanating over his body and going up toward the ceiling. Could it be that the angels had waited to take him, so that she and her brother might have some more time together before he had to go? That’s what I think. Thomas and Susan Slagel Findlay Christmas goes back to school EDITOR’S NOTE: These letters were submitted from Lori Hunt’s seventh-grade class at Glenwood Middle School, where students were asked to write a Christmas memory for an assignment. Two beautiful necklaces My favorite Christmas memory happened five years ago. My memory is of my family gathered around the sparkling Christmas tree at my grandma’s house. My mom, dad, aunt and uncle were passing out the gifts. The first gift they passed out was mine. When all the presents were passed out, we began to open them. My aunt opened her gift and it was a beautiful shiny silver necklace. I loved it! I wished I had one just like it. My grandma told me to open up my beautiful red- and green-wrapped gift. Everyone was watching anxiously as I opened my gift. I opened up my gift, it was the same box, I opened the lid and there was the same necklace. I jumped up and down, I gave my grandma a hug and then my aunt. We put the necklaces on and laughed. I showed my mom that my aunt and I had received the same necklace. she said they were very beautiful. We would wear them on the same days. I loved my aunt, and we were best friends. since then, my aunt has passed away, so the necklace is very important to me. — Bri Searls My magical Christmas My name is Gabriela, and this is the story of not only my favorite, but my most magical Christmas. Five years ago, when I was about 7, it was rough in school. all the kids in my grade were just finding out the truth about santa Claus and were trying to tell all the rest of the kids that he was fake. I kept on telling myself that he was real, but after so long I started to have doubts. My mom, trying so hard to keep me believing, watched “The Polar Express” with me. Even though I had seen it many times prior to that, this was the first time I actually understood the message it gives. at the end of the movie, when the bell flies off the reindeer, was the moment I decided what I really wanted for Christmas: one of Rudolph’s bells. after about a month of sending letters and bugging my parents, Christmas morning came. When I woke up that morning, I ran to the tree not really caring about the toys because all I wanted was that bell. When I finally spotted it, it was like there was a spotlight on it. I ran to my parents’ room to tell them what I saw. They got up and we all went to the living room to open presents. When I finally opened that little purple box and saw the bell, I was so happy. It also came with a letter that I memorized. That Christmas was my all-time favorite because I truly believed. — Gabriela Pergram Grandma Ruth’s doll I wrote a memory from my grandmother, Ruth Folk. she is 69 years old. I asked her what her favorite Christmas memory was and she said that her favorite Christmas memory was in 1953, when she was about 8 or 9 years old. It was a time when she and her family did not have a lot of money. When she was a child, there was a place called “The City Mission,” which was in a small church that would help poor people in the community. They gave Christmas presents to all the children in my grandmother’s family. all she ever wanted was a baby doll. One Christmas morning her sister woke her up, went downstairs and they noticed a baby doll underneath the Christmas tree. Her sister ran up to the tree, grabbed the baby doll and hugged it until one moment when their mother noticed a tag attached to the baby doll’s arm, and when she read the tag it said “Ruthy.” My grandmother was so happy when she figured out it was hers. she named her doll “Betsy.” she had her doll until she was about 13 or 14 years old, when suddenly it was mysteriously destroyed. Thank you for letting me share my story about my Grandma Ruth’s eighth Christmas memory. — Jade Treft A fast-paced Christmas a couple years ago at Christmas, it was fun because my cousins and I played some basketball for a little bit. after that, we went sledding and we were all out there all night. The best part was sliding into the creek. When we were done we went inside to open our presents. When we were done opening our presents, my uncle chased me around the house trying to make me eat shrimp. He almost made me, but I hid in the closet. Then we were ready to go home. That was the best Christmas memory ever. — Noah Wilkinson Decorating the Christmas tree and cookies My best Christmas memory is when I decorated my Christmas tree and sugar cookies. When we decorated my Christmas tree, we didn’t use the fancy ones you buy at the store; we used personal ones. For example, my sister really likes sasquatch, so we had bought her an ornament of him. When I was little, every year I would make an ornament with my handprint on them. When my family decorated our tree, we teased each other about our silly ornaments we were putting up on the tree. We also teased each other about not being able to untangle the lights. When my dad couldn’t get the lights untangled, he got really frustrated, so I started to laugh. I still haven’t laughed so hard! I was nearly crying! But when the tree was decorated, we went to bed furious with everyone. But when we woke up, we all forgot. We also decorated sugar cookies. I decorated them with my dad and sister. We all thought that eating them was the best part ... my dad and I made all of the dough and stuff like that, then everyone else decorated them. Those are my favorite Christmas memories :) — Haleigh Heckaman The years in between were wonderful Photo provided to The Courier by DENISE MITCHELL Every Christmas Eve since I could remember, we would gather at my Grandma and Grandpa Humphrey ’s for a Christmas Eve get-together. It was always a fun and wonderful time visiting with my family, catching up, and enjoying all the food and dessert that was prepared. O f course, the dea l my grandpa had set was we would open presents after he finished his coffee. so each and every one of us kids would go on reconnaissance to check on the level of his coffee in his cup, haha. Eventually, we would take pictures by the tree with everyone and open presents. I also recall one time santa had shown up, passed out candy canes. He told us to be good, go right home and go to bed because he had already started delivering presents. Oh, the memories. Rest in peace, Grandpa! Robert J. Spence III Benton Ridge Gesture brightened a blue Christmas In august of 2013, I lost my mother. Christmas that year was tough, but 2014 was not starting to look any merrier. I went to the local Meijer store to do some shopping on 12/12/14, and while crossing the crosswalk, some driver almost ran over me. I’m thinking he forgot he had brakes. I was NOT in the mood for Christmas spirit or Christmas songs. This day was not going as I had planned. I wanted to get my shopping done and be outta there. as I went up and down the aisles looking for my groceries and watching where I was going, I could hear all the little children and their parents in the conjoining aisles. I was finding myself getting deeper and deeper into a depression. as I was turning the corner I navigated around a young mother and her two little children in a big cart. One of the children was a little girl and she had a white piece of paper that was folded in half and had a green drawing on it, clearly done by the little girl herself. This little girl was chatting with her mother and I heard her say, “stop, stop. I want to see this lady.” I looked over at her and realized she was handing me her precious drawing. she jumped off her cart and walked over to me and said, “Merry Christmas” as she handed me the card. I took the card and tears welled up in my eyes. I then realized that this little girl was sent to me by the angels who knew of my pained heart. I got down on a lower level to meet this little girl’s eyes and asked her name. she told me it was alana. she gave me a hug and got back in her cart with her mom pushing her and her little brother down the aisle. I took the opportunity to look inside the card and her mom had written, “Merry Christmas, God Bless.” This Christmas was going to be indeed, a wonderful Christmas thanks to my little angel, alana. Ronnie Cheney Upper Sandusky Mom’s precious Christmas jewel doctor’s comment led to baby’s name I was expecting my third child in december 1970, and the doctor said the baby was due around the 16th. We had two sons, ages 13 and 15, and they were excited about getting a little brother or sister! But the 16th came and went and there was still no baby. a week went by and we were hoping the baby might arrive on Christmas, but that didn’t happen either! My mot he r - i n - l aw s a id , “Well, since you’ve gone this long, you might have it on my birthday. and that’s what happened! I delivered a beautiful baby girl on dec. 28, so close to Christmas and my mother-in-law’s birthday! It truly was a blessed event! Later in the day, after my baby was born, I was sitting on the side of my hospital bed with my baby in my arms. My doctor came in and sat down beside me. He looked at my baby and said, “What are you going to name your little girl? ” I said, “I’m debating on stephanie or Tiffany.” He looked at me and said, “she looks like a little jewel to me!” That did it for me. My sweet baby was named Tiffany ann. she is now married with two boys of her own. and she will always be “My little Jewel”! Donna K. Trenor Findlay Christmas carolers stop by for a meal dec. 23, 1959, was a wonderful day. That Christmas I had a little dark-haired baby girl. I spent Christmas in the hospital. My mother-in-law asked me what I wanted, and I told her candy, so she made me black walnut fudge. so good, and I have never had any since. I never dreamed 39 years later that same little girl would pass away at another Christmas. so, in 1959, that Christmas was joyful, and in 1998, that Christmas was joyless. But all the years in between were wonderful. Clara B. Yoder Findlay Christmas with the grandparents angel to Meijer FRONT ROW, left to right: Shannon (Mitchell) Friedmeyer, Santa (John McDaniel), Mathew McDaniel, Andrea Mitchell. Back row, left to right: Marlene McDaniel, Misty (Reed) Webster, Andrew McDaniel. The photo was taken in 1996. Santa’s 14-year Christmas tradition The Christmas of 1982 was the first year my father, John Mcdaniel, showed up to our family Christmas dressed as santa to celebrate my niece Misty’s first Christmas. For the next 14 years until my father passed, he would dress up as santa and visit our family every Christmas. The visit from santa became even more special to my husband and I when our two daughters, shannon and andrea, were born. From the young- est child to the oldest adult, everyone waited with excitement for santa’s jolly entrance. When santa finally arrived, each family member would take turns sitting on santa’s knee to tell him what they wanted for Christmas. We didn’t know it then, but the Christmas of 1996 has become our most cherished santa visit ever. Denise Mitchell Findlay It was 1950 and I was 6 years old and my little sister was 2 years old. My mom had baked for several days many beautiful delicious delicacies and sweets. Mom was so tired that she couldn’t think of washing her long, long hair. Our loving daddy told Mama that he would wash her hair. We didn’t have a shower, so he put the heavy-duty ironing board up to the kitchen sink and Mom stretched out on her back. Well — when he was just finishing the doorbell rang and carolers began to sing outside our front door. Mom quickly got her hair whipped in a towel and we all answered the door and enjoyed the wonderful sounds of Christmas. The carolers were students from the Bible school across the way. Then Mom invited them in and shared her freshly-baked goodies with them. This little girl felt the joy of Christmas and still does today. My mom and dad are celebrating Christmas in heaven this year. Alna Braun Findlay A moving movie memory 1994 was the last Christmas my entire “scattered” family shared the Christmas season. My mother, my five children, their spouses, children and, of course, myself were able to be together for the weekend. We shared gifts, chores and laughter, ending the weekend by watching the movie, “Homeward Bound.” My eldest daughter, a stoic, no-nonsense person (with two teenage daughters herself) ended up crying and sobbing during the movie. It has made for a lot of teasing and a memory of a wonderful time. For me, I think of it as “a Wonderful Lifetime” memory. Joella Cecil Findlay Alaskan Christmas seems like yesterday snow and cold were unfamiliar commodities It was the Christmas of 1955. I was 7 years old. We had just moved to Kodiak, alaska, that summer. My father was in the Coast Guard and had been posted from a ship based in Miami, Florida, to the LORaN station on Kodiak Island. I had lived all of my short life in Florida and was completely unfamiliar with seasonal changes; except for the change from hurricane season to sandflea season. snow, wearing a coat, mittens, cold noses, were all new to me. What a culture shock when we got several feet of snow just before Christmas. Nevertheless, we waded out and cut our own tree; well, dad did all the work. Back then everybody cut their own trees on Kodiak, since nearly all of the island was owned by the federal government. Everything about that winter – the snow, the cold, dark days, the frozen fingers, the warm hot chocolate and the smell of a real tree — will never be repeated in my experience. It was a truly unique Christmas season. Mom had cooked a ham on Christmas Eve, which added to the ambi- ance with the heady smell in a closed-up house. Then came Christmas day. We all slept in late, even though it was hard for me. For about 10 days around december 21, there is NO sun at that latitude, so Christmas was dark all day long; but when it came to opening gifts my day got really bright. I got an honest-to-goodness sLEd! I had never seen one before coming to Kodiak, except in the department store Christ- mas displays in Miami. By spring, that sled was nearly worn out, but it really didn’t matter, because the next fall, dad was posted to a ship based in Mobile, a laba ma. yes, the Christmas of 1955 was almost 60 years ago, but it stands out in my memory as totally unique. In some ways it seems almost like yesterday. Denny Scales Fostoria CHR ISTM AS MEMOR IES THE COURIER TUEsday, dECEMBER 23, 2014 Everlasting Gift Tis the season to be jolly Christmas gifts and boughs of holly. But underneath the glitter and glow Is the real meaning of Christmas that all should know. a precious little baby boy lying in a manger The brilliant star up in the sky that led the way of strangers. They came from near, they came from far to see the baby boy But little did they know right then he’d bring the world such joy. Thirty-three years he worked on earth Just a short walk from the day of his birth. Unconditional love he gave so that the world might be saved. Reflect for a moment on your Christmas past. The gifts you received: did that joy last? santa would be the first to say “Now, everyone bow your heads and pray.” Thank you heavenly father above For the precious baby and his love. Let every day be Christmas. share peace, joy and love and remember the precious gift he gives. Eternal life is so we all may live. Judy Kisseberth Benton Ridge Change of plans sparks road trip on coldest Christmas ever scant traffic allows man to surprise his father on holiday My mother-in-law and fatherin-law, Cloyd “sport” and dorotha Inbody, were married on Christmas day 1938. so they were to celebrate their 45th anniversary on Christmas day in 1983. It so happened that was a sunday, so the entire family (nine sons and daughters and a host of grandchildren) planned to attend the sunday morning worship service with them at Bethlehem United Methodist Church just outside of Findlay, south of the reservoir. We planned to present the church with pew Bibles in honor of their anniversary. since it was a small, family-oriented church, we had also planned to be a large part of the worship service that Christmas morning. Everything was in place, but earlier in the week the weather turned bitterly cold. so much so that the pastor called saturday evening and said that the church service would be canceled the next morning because the pipes in the church were frozen. Most other services in town were canceled as well, due to the extreme cold, so all of our plans went out the window. But this was going to be the first Christmas morning that I wouldn’t be home with my family, so we saw an opportunity to still make it in time for Christmas dinner even though home was four hours away! I had filled the car with gasoline earlier in the week and had spoken to our mechanic friend, Emil Layne at Findlay service Garage, who told me that if we got the car good and warm we shouldn’t have any problems on the road. With the thermometer reading -22 degrees at about 7:30 a.m. sunday morning, we got the car warmed up, loaded up and headed off to Tiltonsville in eastern Ohio along the Ohio River. What a trip; we had the roads to ourselves! We passed all of about a half-dozen cars One of my most cherished memories started in 1982 when our granddaughter got her wish. But it was not until 1988, at age 11, that she wrote her very own letter to The Courier’s Favorite Christmas Memories (which I still have). It read: “My favorite Christmas was when I was about five. I had wanted a wagon for the whole year. My Birthday went past and I didn’t get one. so Christmas came at our house and I still didn’t get one. The next day I went to Grandma’s house. We ate a good meal then unwrapped the pres- A Little Jesus I was a depression kid! Born in 1930, I was the first of eight children. daddy worked two days a week. We didn’t get much for Christmas, but lots of love! We had a tree with bright lights on it! Mama always saw to it that we had a book and a game to share! she made homemade candy and we each had an orange. We didn’t feel deprived! We were happy and thankful! Wilmetta Copus Findlay P.s.: I still have my Nancy drew book! dinner. The plans for the church service were put on hold until the next sunday and all seemed to end well. Now, thirty-one years later, my family is gone but the memories of those special Christmas mornings will remain with me forever. However, none will be any more special than ringing that doorbell on that cold, cold Christmas sunday morning in 1983. so enjoy Christmas this year with family, friends and loved ones. Cherish the memories of Christmas past and make your own special memories to be savored in years to come. Dan L. Merkel Findlay ents. I still hadn’t got a wagon. My grandma said “sarah go check in the back bedroom I think I forgot one.” When I walked in I saw a wagon. I was so excited and happy I think that was one of my favorite Christmas.” - sarah yockey This has become a family tradition. Each firstborn of our three children received a wagon and now as tradition has it each firstborn of our seven grandchildren receive a wagon from us. Grand and Great Grandparents Clair and Bev Beverly J. Romick Ada The joy of giving Grandma made Christmas special Lots of love enough for Christmas between Findlay and Columbus. around the outer beltway in Columbus, we may have seen another two dozen vehicles but traffic “thinned out” again and we saw maybe a total of a dozen cars along eastbound I-70 on the way home. Thankfully, we had no problems and at 11:30 a.m., I rang the doorbell at home. dad was so surprised to see us; he couldn’t imagine who might be calling at that hour on such a cold Christmas morning. We did make it home and we celebrated a very special Christmas dinner and thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the day celebrating Christmas with family and friends. Most of the rest of my wife’s family gathered at her sister’s (Carolyn McRill) home for Christmas A family tradition rolls in for Christmas When the night is dark and long, We need a little Jesus. When our hearts have lost their song, We need a little Jesus. When our faith is not so strong and everything seems wrong, We need a little Jesus. There are moments every day, We need a little Jesus. For a friend to show the way, We need a little Jesus. Now the Christmas star shines bright, and there beneath its light We meet our Little Jesus. Cora L. Kerr Findlay Remembering my favorite memory is hard because I have had so many, but one in particular is special because of who I shared it with. I lost my grandmother a couple of months ago so I’m doing this for her. When I was in third grade I had gotten my tonsils out and it was very close to Christmas. My grandmother saw how sick I was and how much pain I was in, so she let me open a gift. It was a fire truck with all the lights and ladders. It made me feel good, and makes me feel even better now, knowing I had a wonderful grandmother. Dustin Greer Findlay 3 “God Bless Us Every One!” Photo by DAVID WOHLGAMUTH EVEN though the faith of the world is shaken by the treacheries and agonies of war, the faith of little children remains the same, year in and year out. Bobby, Sharon and Donnie Perkins, age 8, 4 and 7 years, are children of Donald Perkins, 121 West Sandusky street. Like children the world over, they kneel by their bed before Christmas and whisper softly their wants to God, and to old Santa Claus. While kingdoms totter and armies, crumble, the faith of a child remains steadfast. EDITOR’S NOTE: This photo was taken for The Republican-Courier that ran Dec. 24, 1941, with World War II acknowledged in the cutline, taken verbatim from that issue. The photo was submitted by Bob Perkins, of Findlay, who is the child on the left. The photo was taken in the back room of his father’s business, Superior Cleaners. Bob lived at Superior Cleaners from July 1941 to January 1942, moving in after his mother died from leukemia in April 1941. Christmas was always a big, festive family celebration Our parents, Raul and Rosa arredondo, plus nine children, moved to Findlay in the 1960s. since that time, we lived in a beautiful house at 123 East Pine avenue. There are so many memories that were made as we were growing up. Christmas was always a big, festive family celebration. The nativity was always the first to be set up. The first weekend of december, we would pile into our station wagon to find the perfect tree. Imagine getting nine kids to agree on the perfect tree, but somehow we agreed and took it home to decorate. My dad would bring the ornaments down from the attic, and my mom would take out the lights and lovingly unwrap our precious ornaments. The ornaments were hung as everyone would put their favorites on the tree. The Christmas music would always be playing in the background and would continue until Christmas day. I can still remember the smell of the cinnamon and cloves that Mom kept simmering on the stove throughout the holidays. We baked and decorated cookies; then came the assembly line we had for making tamales. My dad was the official tester. I can still smell those wonderful tamales. another custom was hot chocolate and pan dulce (sweet bread). What a treat they were. On Christmas morning, we always opened our gifts. Those are wonderful memories. The children have all grown up, and now there are great-grandchildren. Our beloved home has been sold and our beloved 90- and 93-year-old parents have moved to Virginia Beach. Those were the days, as the saying goes, but the memories will always be in our hearts. Feliz Navidad!! Rosita Harper Findlay I have many wonderful Christmas memories, however, what sticks out most in my mind is that in our family, I have never heard anyone say, “I want this …” or “What’s for me under the tree?” Rather, the concern has always been what they could give to someone else. My fondest memories are how our children handled gift giving when they were young. We didn’t have a lot of money, and eventually there were five of them, so they had to be creative! One particular memory that comes to mind happened when we were stationed in Germany and we took them to the post exchange to shop. There were four of them then, ages 4 to 12, so being in one place made it easier to let them have some autonomy, while keeping an eye on them. Their budget that year was $10 each to buy for their siblings and Mom and dad! It was such a joy to watch them look around and figure out what they could buy. They were all very imaginative, even the four-year-old, and managed to buy something for each person; the older ones even pooled their resources! Christmas morning everyone was much more excited about sharing their gifts and wanted to be first to pick a gift to have someone open! To this day, our family opens gifts one at a time, going around the room, so opening gifts can take time, but it is always a blessing. My Christmas memories remind me that it is in giving that we receive and now I get to share that with my grandchildren! God’s blessings to all! Louise Brooks Findlay A laugh that was all his own This isn’t my Christmas memory, but one that my dad, Robert schoonover sr. of Benton Ridge, has told me about. My great-grandparents, Harl and Eva schoonover, lived on a farm just outside Benton Ridge on Hancock County 84. The farm was located at the back of a lane at least half a mile long. My dad told me that one Christmas in the late 1930s or early 1940s that he and his dad and mom, Clair and Golda schoonover, had gone to the farm for Christmas with the other aunts and uncles. While they were there, it snowed quite a bit and they were unable to make it out to the road as the lane had drifted. Back then, my great-grandpa had horses that were still used for farming. My dad said he can still see Great-Grandpa Harl sitting on the radiator of their car with the horses hitched to the front bumper pulling them to the road, laughing the whole way. I remember when I was growing up, and Great-Grandpa and Great-Grandma lived in Benton in the late 1960s, that Grandpa had a laugh that was all his own, so I can see this picture in my mind even though it was long before my time. Robert Schoonover Jr. Benton Ridge *2'%/(66$///,9,1*&5($785(6$7&+5,670$67,0( 2XUEHVWZLVKHVDUHZLWK\RXDQG\RXUVDVZHFHOHEUDWHWKH 0LUDFOHRI+LVELUWK0D\\RXUVSLULWVEHOLIWHGE\WKHEHDXW\RI WKHVHDVRQMXVWDVRXUVKDYHEHHQE\WKHSULYLOHJH RINQRZLQJJRRGSHRSOHOLNH\RX 6HUYLQJ)LQGOD\·V)ORRULQJ1HHGV 6LQFH -(55<$8*867·6 6HEDVWLDQ6DYDQQDK *HRUJLD&RQQHFWLRQ (6DQGXVN\6W +D\GHQ 4 CHR ISTM AS MEMOR IES West side Santa during most of the 1960s I was lucky enough to help my grandmother deliver Christmas boxes to the folks “in need” in my grandparents’ west side mobile home park, usually around dec. 22 or 23. Grandma belonged to a “buyers group” (back then located in West Park) which enabled her to find just about anything at bargain prices. Being the proprietor of the park, she always knew who was struggling during the holidays, as well as how many children were in the family and any special needs that came into play. Boxes would contain food enough to run from Christmas through Jan. 1, and toys and hats and mittens (she would knit) for each child. My job was to pull my red Flyer (always housed there) with the boxes through the park, and under cover of darkness we would place the box on the porch or steps leading to the mobile home. I was to knock on the door three times and say, “Ho-ho-ho,” and run to Grandma out of sight and get a big hug. There was somewhere around 60 to 70 trailers in the park and many years there would be 10 to 15 families that would receive some form of assistance. The park is all gone and Walmart is where the lake once was and restaurants took the place of Grandma and Grandpa’s house and where the park once stood, but the memories remain for the oldest of several grandkids who was taught a big lesson on what Christmas is all about. I have never forgotten what Grandma always called “our secret.” I think she would not mind my sharing now.... Rick Aurand Arcadia THE COURIER TUEsday, dECEMBER 23, 2014 Marathon Oil Company flies Santa in for deliveries One of my favorite Christmas memories is when I was growing up and attending the Christmas party where my father worked. This wasn’t just any Christmas party! It was santa Claus flying in on Marathon Oil Company’s Gulfstream One from the North Pole and giving each and every child at the party a wrapped present. In anticipation of santa arriving at the party, one of the Marathon dispatchers would keep the whole party abreast by announcing over the Pa system that santa was ten minutes out, then five, then sure enough the airplane would come pulling up to the hangar. The plane would shut down, the door would open, and santa Claus would come down the stairs followed by two of his Christmas elves. santa would have a big white sack of toys thrown over his shoulder, and into the hangar he’d come! I remember the pictures of all the children and their faces placed against the glass waiting for that magical moment when santa would arrive! santa would then sit in the BIG chair especially set up for him. He would take a seat and then begin calling out names that he had on a list. The children would come as their names were called and sit on santa’s lap while he asked if we had been good that year! He then would give a gift and set you free to be with the rest of the children at his feet, opening gifts. If you haven’t guessed, my father was a pilot for the Marathon Oil Company. sadly, a lot of these gentlemen who put on this kind act at Christmas have passed on. I run into the children of these great men and almost every time the stories come up of the Christmas parties. One gentleman in particular would always say, “When I was growing up santa did not have a sleigh, but had a red-striped Gulfstream One!” But for those still around who remember or have had the good fortune of being a part of one of those great Christmas parties, I too have followed in my father’s footsteps and became a pilot for the now Marathon Petroleum Company. Rest assured (rumor has it) that santa still comes to the Marathon hangar, but has changed the stripes on his plane to red, white and blue! To all the Marathon aviators past and present, Merry Christmas and God Bless! Ronald O. Neds Findlay Santa claws Round about 1960-1962 I was (and still am!!) so infatuated with Christmas and santa Claus. Long about mid-december my little sister and I would start “practicing” sneaking up so we could catch santa putting our gifts under the tree. By Christmas Eve we had things down pat, but I decided to get up by myself. I dozed off on our sofa and our tree was behind it. suddenly, I heard a noise at the tree. Ornaments clinking, paper rustling. I was so scared but finally got the courage to peek my head over the back of the sofa. Much to my surprise and somewhat to my relief — there was our cat drinking the milk we had left under the tree for santa!! Ho ho ho! Susan Martin Henry McComb However, a beautiful baby doll was left for me. she is just like a real baby, at one time she even said “Ma-Ma” when gently laid down for a nap. I still have her. she was played with many times over the years and whenever I hold her it brings back wonderful times and memories of long-ago Christmas childhood. Thanks, santa! Mary Ellen Cain Findlay It was Christmas 2002. My son, Cody, was 8 years old and my daughter, Chelsea, was 5. at our house, Christmas tradition is to go to Grandma’s on Christmas Eve, then on Christmas day, we stayed home so the kids could play with all their new toys they just got from santa. This year, I thought it would be nice to invite santa to our house Christmas morning (of course, this was a surprise). It was about 10 a.m. and there was a knock at the door. We called the kids to the door when we saw it was santa, and they could not believe their eyes: There he was, at their house! Chelsea was not too sure of santa and stayed very close to her brother. santa had a gift for each of them and explained how he got back to the North Pole and noticed that these were mistakenly left on the sleigh. He wanted to make sure that they got them, so he brought them in person. He sat down and had some cookies and milk, and asked Cody and Chelsea if they got everything they had asked for. It was a very nice visit and the kids were mesmerized. The time came for santa to go back home to the North Pole, so he wished us all a Merry Christmas and reminded the kids that he is always watching them, so continue being GOOd. My husband and I remained in the kitchen talking about this visit when all of a sudden, Cody came running through the house, saying “santa is driving a Chevy truck!” at that point, we couldn’t believe he would notice something like that and laughed. The kids then asked where the reindeer and the sleigh were. We explained that the reindeer had worked all night long flying santa and his sleigh around the world to deliver presents to all the good boys and girls, and they were very tired and hungry, which is why santa drove “a Chevy truck” to deliver those misplaced gifts. My kids are now 20 and 17, but memories like these of all the magical times we shared always makes me smile and takes me back to those days when they were small. My wish for them now that they are grown, is that someday, they will be blessed with children as wonderful as they are, and have many special memories, as I have had with them. I LOVE yOU BOTH, COdy aNd CHELsEa sTILLBERGER! Tonya Stillberger Findlay Never too old to watch for Santa Just missed him about 70 years ago, santa came to our house on North Main street on Christmas Eve. I was surprised to hear a noise in the middle of the night (9 or 10 p.m.). My parents said, “Come quickly, santa is about to leave the roof.” Of course, I missed him. When the reindeer get tired Waiting up for Santa Claus Christmas Eve is still and always will be the best night of the year for my sisters and me. Growing up in the 1950s, Christmas was a big deal because, besides your birthday, it was the only other time during the year you received presents. Mom and dad let us four girls scour the sears & Roebuck catalog and after countless hours and days we circled and put our initials on the perfect presents! We made paper chains for the big countdown and watched it torturously creep toward Christmas Eve. at last, the big night finally arrived and my sister Jane (who I shared a bedroom with) would dismantle the bunk beds and lay them side by side excitedly anticipating \ S S D + V \ D G +ROL )URP 60DLQ6W)LQGOD\2+v 0RQ7KXUVDPSP)UL6DWDPSP the long night ahead. We knew sleep wasn’t going to happen and we needed a way to spend the endless hours, so we had stockpiled candy and laid in wait talking endlessly in whispers about what would be under the tree. Whispering was the key! dad had said if santa heard us, he would not leave us gifts! and there were times we were certain there would be no gifts! In the wee hours of the morning, Jane and I would sneak over to Julie and Ellen’s room and much to our disbelief, they were always fast asleep! We would wake them and all four of us would head for the tree. The light from the TV provided us just enough light to see that once again, santa had come. Back to our beds with strict orders from the parents not to wake them until 7 a.m., and believe me, they never slept a minute past 7! Beautiful, wonderful memories made with the best sisters in the world! Last Christmas Eve, the four of us ended up on my bed and we talked about the many Christmas Eves of our past. Little did we know that would be our last Christmas together, as Jane passed away in May and our Christmases are forever changed and we are all deeply saddened, but the memories and love we shared will be forever cherished. Amy Kubly Findlay Our parents were always very happy when their grandchildren came to visit. In 1948 they had several grandchildren and they thought it would be fun to have santa come on Christmas. as the years went by, more babies came, numbering to 19. When the older grandchildren became teenagers, their mothers decided they were too old for santa. The next year, dad stood at the dining room window, waiting and watching for santa, who never came. as the presents were being opened, we could see how disappointed he was. The next year, santa came and every year after until he died at age 86! Rhoda N. Basinger Findlay 'RQ· W WRP IRUJHW DN UHVH UYDWL H\RXU 1HZ RQVIRU 6XUI <HDUV( RXU 7 YH &DOO XUI%XIIH IR W UGHWDLOV