“Where there is no love put love, and you will find love.”
~A. Sachs
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
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—That it’s taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.
—That you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.
—That you can keep going long after you think you can’t.
—That we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.
—That either you control your attitude or it controls you.
—That heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.
—That my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.
—That sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you’re down will be the ones to help you get back up.
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
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“We thank you for this place in which we dwell,
for the love that unites us,
for the peace accorded us this day,
for the hope with which we expect the morrow,
for the work, the health, the food
and bright skies which make our lives
delightful for our friends in all parts of the earth.”
~Robert Louis Stevenson
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
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Ruth looked at the envelope once again. There was no stamp, no postmark, only her name and address on it. She read the letter to herself one more time.
“Dear Ruth, I’m going to be in your neighborhood Saturday afternoon and I’d like to stop by for a visit. Love Always, God.”
Her hands were shaking as she placed the letter on the table. ‘Why would God want to visit me? I’m nobody special. I don’t have anything to offer.’
With that thought, Ruth remembered her empty kitchen cabinets. ‘Oh my goodness, I really don’t have anything to offer! I will have to run down to the store and buy something for dinner at once!’
She reached for her purse and poured out its contents: Five dollars and forty-three cents. ‘Well, I could buy some bread and some cold cuts, at least.’
She threw on her coat and hurried out the door. A loaf of French bread, a half-pound of sliced turkey, and a carton of milk… leaving Ruth with twelve cents left over until next Monday. None-the-less, she felt better as she headed home from the store, her meager offerings tucked under her arm.
“Hey lady, can you help us, lady?”, came a shy voice from a nearby alleyway.
Ruth had been so absorbed in her dinner plans, she hadn’t even noticed two figures huddled together in the cold and dirty alleyway she was just passing by.
A man and woman, both of them dressed in little more than rags stared in her direction… “Look lady, I ain’t got a job, ya know, and my wife and I have been living out here on the street, and, well, now it’s getting cold and we’re getting hungry and, well, if you could help us, lady, we’d really appreciate it. Please lady.”
Ruth looked at them both. They were dirty, the alleyway smelled of garbage, and frankly, she was certain that they could get some kind of work if they really wanted to.
“Sir, I’d like to help you out, but I am a poor woman myself. All I have is a few cold cuts and some bread, which I was planning on serving because I’m having an important guest for dinner tonight.”
“Yeah, well, OK lady, I understand. Thanks anyway.”
The man put his arm around the woman’s shoulders, turned and headed back into the alley.
As she watched them leave, Ruth felt a familiar twinge in her heart.
“Sir, wait!”
The couple stopped and turned as she ran down the alley after them.
“Look, why don’t you take this food. I’ll figure out something else to serve my guest.”
She handed the man her grocery bag.
“Thank you lady. Thank you very much!”
“Yes, thank you!” the man’s wife murmured slowly.
Ruth could see now that she was shivering uncontrollably.
“You know, I’ve got another coat at home. Here, why don’t you take this one.” Ruth unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it over the woman’s shoulders. Then, smiling warmly, she turned and walked back to the street without her coat and with nothing to serve her guest that afternoon.
“Thank you lady! Thank you very much!” said the man, holding back a tear.
Ruth was chilled to the bone by the time she reached her front door, and was worried too. God was coming to visit her and she had nothing to offer Him. She fumbled through her purse for the door key.
But as she did, she noticed another envelope in her mailbox.
“That’s odd,” she said to herself. “The mailman doesn’t usually come twice in one day.”
She took the envelope out of her mailbox and opened it.
“Dear Ruth, It was so good to see you again. Thank you for offering me the lovely meal that you did. And thank you also, for compassionately giving me the beautiful coat that you did. Love Always, God.”
Warm tears trickled down Ruth’s cold cheeks as she realized what had just happened.
There are times during the hustle and bustle of the holidays we forget there are others without and the true meaning of what it is to give of ourselves. And, to remember that God is in ALL of us!
Here’s wishing you and yours a truly Joyous Holiday Season!
~Author Unknown
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
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“Call a truce, then, to our labors — let us feast with friends and neighbors, and be merry as the custom of our caste; for if ”faint and forced the laughter,” and if sadness follow after, we are richer by one mocking Christmas past.”
~Rudyard Kipling
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
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“I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the word repeat of peace on earth, good-will to men!”
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
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The rooms were very still while the pages were softly turned and the winter sunshine crept in to touch the bright heads and serious faces with a Christmas greeting.
~Louisa May Alcott
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
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Ken, thanks for passing on the following philosophy of Charles Schulz—the creator of the ‘Peanuts’ comic strip.
(You don’t have to actually answer the questions. Just ponder on them. Just read straight through, and you’ll get the point.)
- Name the five wealthiest people in the world.
- Name the last five Heisman trophy winners.
- Name the last five winners of the Miss America pageant.
- Name ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer Prize.
- Name the last half dozen Academy Award winners for best actor and actress.
- Name the last decade’s worth of World Series winners.
How did you do?
The point is, none of us remember the headliners of yesterday.
These are no second-rate achievers.
They are the best in their fields.
But the applause dies.
Awards tarnish.
Achievements are forgotten.
Accolades and certificates are buried with their owners.
Here’s another quiz. See how you do on this one:
- List a few teachers who aided your journey through school.
- Name three friends who have helped you through a difficult time.
- Name five people who have taught you something worthwhile.
- Think of a few people who have made you feel appreciated and special!
- Think of five people you enjoy spending time with.
Easier?
The lesson: The people who make a difference in your life are not the ones with the most credentials…the most money…or the most awards.
They simply are the ones who care the most.
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
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Thanks for passing this on, Roger:
I have a list of folks I know, all written in a book
And every year at Christmas time, I have a little look.
And that is when I realize that these names are a part,
Not of the book they’re written in, but of my very heart.
For each name stands for someone who has crossed my path sometime
And in that meeting they’ve become the “rhythm of the rhyme.”
And though it sounds fantastic for me to make this claim,
really feel that I’m composed of each and every name.
And while you may not be aware of any special link,
Just meeting you has shaped my life more than you’ll ever think.
For once you’ve met a person, the years cannot erase
The memory of a pleasant word or of a friendly face.
So never think my Christmas card is just a mere routine
Of names upon a Christmas list, forgotten in between.
For when I send a Christmas card that is addressed to you,
It is because you’re among the folk that I’m indebted to.
For you’re a part of the many friends across the years I’ve met
And happen to be one of those I’d rather not forget.
And whether I have known you for many years or few,
In some way you have had a part in shaping what I do.
And every year when Christmas comes, I realize anew
That one of the greatest gifts of life
Is having a friend like you!
~Author Unknown
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
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Thanks for passing on this interesting tidbit, Ken:
A man named Bob May, depressed and brokenhearted, stared out his drafty apartment window into the chilling December night.
His 4-year-old daughter Barbara sat on his lap quietly sobbing. Bob’s wife, Evelyn, was dying of cancer. Little Barbara couldn’t understand why her mommy could never come home. Barbara looked up into her dad’s eyes and asked, “Why isn’t Mommy just like everybody else’s Mommy?” Bob’s jaw tightened and his eyes welled with tears. Her question brought waves of grief, but also of anger. It had been the story of Bob’s life. Life always had to be different for Bob.
Small when he was a kid, Bob was often bullied by other boys. He was too little at the time to compete in sports. He was often called names he’d rather not remember. From childhood, Bob was different and never seemed to fit in. Bob did complete college, married his loving wife and was grateful to get his job as a copywriter at Montgomery Ward during the Great Depression. Then he was blessed with his little girl. But it was all short-lived. Evelyn’s bout with cancer stripped them of all their savings and now Bob and his daughter were forced to live in a two-room apartment in the Chicago slums. Evelyn died just days before Christmas in 1938.
Bob struggled to give hope to his child, for whom he couldn’t even afford to buy a Christmas gift. But if he couldn’t buy a gift, he was determined to make one – a storybook! Bob had created an animal character in his own mind and told the animal’s story to little Barbara to give her comfort and hope. Again and again Bob told the story, embellishing it more with each telling. Who was the character? What was the story all about? The story Bob May created was his own autobiography in fable form. The character he created was a misfit outcast like he was.
What was the name of the character?
A little reindeer named Rudolph, with a big shiny nose. Bob finished the book just in time to give it to his little girl on Christmas Day. But the story doesn’t end there.
The general manager of Montgomery Ward caught wind of the little storybook and offered Bob May a nominal fee to purchase the rights to print the book. Wards went on to print, _ Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ and distribute it to children visiting Santa Claus in their stores. By 1946 Wards had printed and distributed more than six million copies of Rudolph. That same year, a major publisher wanted to purchase the rights from Wards to print an updated version of the book.
In an unprecedented gesture of kindness, the CEO of Wards returned all rights back to Bob May. The book became a best seller. Many toy and marketing deals followed and Bob May, now remarried with a growing family, became wealthy from the story he created to comfort his grieving daughter. But the story doesn’t end there either.
Bob’s brother-in-law, Johnny Marks, made a song adaptation to Rudolph. Though such popular vocalists as Bing Crosby and Dinah Shore turned down the song the singing cowboy, Gene Autry, recorded it. “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” was released in 1949 and became a phenomenal success, selling more records than any other Christmas song, with the exception of “White Christmas.”
The gift of love that Bob May created for his daughter so long ago kept on returning back to bless him again and again. And Bob May learned the lesson, just like his dear friend Rudolph, that being different isn’t so bad. In fact, being different can be a blessing.
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
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