Tuesday, December 18, 2012

A Tribute to Our Children, in Memory of Our Children

Hey readers, did you know our holiday fund drive is in session and ending soon? We really need your help to help others. Give to Grow at www.indiegogo.com/bestdayofmylifesofar

Today, a tribute to the unending brilliance of our children's souls in light of the lives lost in Newtown this past week. Helen wrote this story a few years ago and it takes on new meaning this week - even
when things seem hectic and confusing, our children's souls will see us through and create beauty when we least expect in the world. This is a photo of the impossibly bright December sun in Philly today. As I was walking down a narrow sidewalk, and the words of the post were forming in my head, I looked up and this is what I saw.

Helen H. Lahr
12/17/ 2009
Our First Christmas In Our New Home

We lived in a home where our children were born and grew up. Naturally, they grew up with other children on the block. When my husband and I moved in, other young couples did likewise. It was a lovely environment to rear children and they thrived.

Years later our sons had married and moved outside of the city and I had lost my husband. Our daughter and me were they only ones left in the house. Eventually we decided to relocate so we moved 27 miles away. The month was December, near Christmas time. You can imagine how hectic a time this was. Our home sold almost immediately and the people moved out of what was to be our new home, almost immediately. On the surface this would seem to be an ideal situation but in reality it was not. Packing, etcetera, had to be done right away. Finally everything was done and we were on our way to our new home.

Needless to say, boxes were everywhere. Members of the family wanted to see the house; even my son, who lived in New England, came down with his family. My grandchildren put the large Christmas tree together. When my children were growing up we always had a live Christmas tree; after the boys were married we purchased an artificial tree because we were to tired of dismantling the large tree, taking it down and cleaning up all the thistles from the carpet. I always kept my decorations up until Dr. Martin Luther King’s birthday.

Getting back to the unpacking, the boxes were all over the place. We had labeled the contents of each of the boxes but when it came time to decorate the tree we couldn’t find the box with the ornaments. My grandchildren improvised and decorated with other bric-a-brac and the tree turned out looking cute. Anyway, since we were filled with holiday happiness it all seemed to be pretty.
Hope you feel as inspired by this story as I do.

All my best, Benita