When I was in elementary school in Saginaw, Michigan, back in the 1950’s, Paul Davis was my neighbor as well as classmate. Paul’s birthday is December 16th. Every year for his birthday treat he would take to school wonderful Santa face cookies, complete with raisin eyes and coconut beards.

I would always make sure to walk home with Paul on those days, just in case someone had been absent and he had an extra cookie or two. Somehow, one cookie survived long enough for me to show my mother. She got the recipe from Paul’s mother and bought the special cookie cutter at Morley Brothers, our wonderful all-purpose department store.

Over the years, my mother and I would continue to make these cookies. After I got married in the mid-60’s, I bought my own cookie cutter. We had three daughters and the cookies remained a must-do at Christmas time. I was a stay-at-home mother in those days and would make the Santa cookies for my daughters’ class parties. Some special teachers would get a plate of them years after they taught our daughters. Eventually, my mother gave me her Santa cookie cutter and I guarded both of them because Morley’s had closed years before and we never saw anything even resembling these wonderful Santa faces.

Several years ago in late December, I had made several batches and the two plastic cutters were sitting on the cupboard waiting to be handwashed and put away for another year. Well, my oldest daughter decided to help out by loading the dishwasher. You guessed it … the two treasured plastic cutters came out distorted and totally unusable. I was sick!

For some reason, I had kept the original paper insert from the cookie cutter box. So, I knew that they were from Aunt Chick’s in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Now, it was time to see if that company was still in business. Honestly, I wasn’t optimistic but if I couldn’t replace them, then a long-standing tradition had come to an abrupt halt.

That January, I wrote to the Tulsa Chamber of Commerce and inquired about Aunt Chick’s cookie cutters. I enclosed a copy of the insert that I’d kept for so many years. Within days I received a reply. They even sent me newspaper clippings about Aunt Chick (she had died in 1982) and they told me that the cookie cutters were still available at The Final Touch in Tulsa. They also told me that Aunt Chick’s granddaughter, Pat Kimbrel, had taken over the business and it was now called Chickadees Cookery Company in Irving, Texas.

I was elated! I phoned The Final Touch and explained what had happened and said that I wanted to buy TEN Santa cookie cutters. The woman told me that they were only available in sets (Santa, star, tree, stocking.) But I didn’t want the other designs and couldn’t afford to buy ten SETS.

So, I decided to call Chickadees Cookery Company. I was able to talk with Pat Kimbrel and tell her about the happy memories connected with her grandmother’s cookie cutters. She said that she hoped to get them back into distribution once again. Through Pat I was able to buy four Santa cutters. Then, several weeks later, I received a note from The Final Touch saying that they found six Santa cutters and asked if I still want them.

I phoned to say “Yes!” and sent a check. So, within about four months I went from having no Santa cutters to having ten, the exact number that I stated that I wanted in the first place!

It was wonderful to be able to do business with two women who went out of their way to satisfy a customer. And, now the family tradition of the Santa face cookie cutters continues not only in our house but also in the home of our oldest daughter, who has since married. At this point, it’s three generations strong.

So, Happy Birthday, Paul Davis, this December 16th wherever you are. I’ll bet you just never knew that your old friend, neighbor and classmate would perpetuate the cookie tradition for nearly a half-century. Thanks to you and your mother and with the help of some dear women in both Oklahoma and Texas, we’ll be enjoying our very special Santa cookies for many years to come.

Sometimes you just never know how many lives you affect or for how many years the influence will be felt. Merry Christmas from Kentucky.

~Author Unknown

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

I believe…
…That no matter how bad your heart is broken the world doesn’t stop for your grief.

I believe…
…That the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.

I believe…
…In love and the unceasing wonder of life.

I believe…
…It requires constant practice to achieve a sense of well-being and a satisfaction of spirit.

I believe…
…I’d rather do things to help others succeed instead of simply benefiting myself.

I believe…
…In making the world a better place for humankind.

I believe…
…In honoring the worth and dignity of others.

I believe…
…In looking for the good in other people.

I believe…
…It’s OK to be perplexed and not have the answers…to listen and not speak…to inquire and not crusade.

I believe…
…In being open-minded.

…

What do you believe?

“I believe…”

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

The hollowness I felt in 1989 during my first Christmas without my sister, Cindy James, made me realize I had to allow myself to have fun again. That was so hard for me at the time. Cindy had died almost seven months earlier and I had still been in anguish.

I couldn’t imagine myself feeling joyous ever again.

I felt locked into a concrete cell of pain…and I didn’t know how to escape.

How was I to rejuvenate myself?

How was I to cultivate a peaceful heart?

I wanted to feel vibrantly alive…but in all honesty, I didn’t care about much!

I needed to confront the emptiness I felt. I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself…I was feeling my sorrow and wanting to move through it.

I needed to grapple with assembling the past, present and future pieces of this mysterious puzzle that was unfolding before me.

I knew I needed to take a look at what I was doing, and stop. After hitting the wall I needed to let go…give myself a mental vacation…go on retreat…have “down time”.

So I walked, I meditated, I took bubble baths and I slept.

Yes, during the holidays I had slept in a lot, and when I had to go back to work in January I had been tired after the first day!

While grieving you use up a lot of emotional energy without being aware of it until you have to get up early for work.

I reached out to others.

I took time to heal.

I learned to live better with the loss.

You can do this!

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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This is a true story that happened to me about four years ago.

It was the first Sunday in December and we were in our Sunday school to learn about a family that had been referred from social services that was in real need of clothes and food.

Our director began to describe what he saw when he and the social worker had paid the family a visit earlier in the week. The mother was working two jobs trying to feed and clothe three children. He told how the mother said that she had tried all year to save money for Christmas presents but it was just not there. All her money was going to just buy food and she couldn’t remember when she had bought clothes for her children last.

As he continued to describe what he saw, my mind began to remember all the Christmas’s that I had as a child. I could still smell all the mixtures of different things drifting from the kitchen where my mom was cooking…the sight of a big Christmas tree with presents piled all around and the looks on each of the faces of my family as we opened Christmas presents. I just couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a Christmas that was being described to us. What?! –No food, no presents, no family gatherings and no Christmas tree?

The director said he would like to take up an offering and anything that was received would be used to help make this the best Christmas ever. As the plate began to make its way around I opened my wallet only to find one dollar. I wanted to give more but I just didn’t have it. I passed the plate on by without putting anything in. As I started to put my wallet back up, I suddenly remember that the week before Thanksgiving my wife and I had gone on a trip with some friends. When I go on trips I always try to hide some reserve money in my wallet, just in case we need something.

I opened my wallet and sure enough the money was still there. Folded behind a picture was one $100 bill. I thought for a second and then realized that they needed it far worse than I did. As we were going to our classes I stopped the director and put the money in the plate. He looked shocked and said are you sure you don’t want any change? I told him that they need it more than I did and that he better take it before I changed my mind.

Well, as that Sunday went on I soon forgot what had happened that morning. At lunch that day my family and I had gone to the local restaurant to eat. My in-laws were already there and soon were finished eating before we were. As they were leaving, they stopped by our table to say hi and just chat.

Just then my mother-in-law turned, reached out her hand as to give me something and said, “We had a yard sale yesterday and I sold some things that I realized belonged to you.”

She then stuck some money in my hand. I thanked her and as she walked away I opened my hand.

Chills ran up and down my spine as I stared at exactly the same amount and exactly the same denomination bill that I had given earlier… one $100 bill!

How the power of God was so real, I will never forget that Christmas.

~Author Unknown

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

En route to the mall a few evenings ago, my hubby and I drove around our neighborhood and admired the Christmas light displays. We were feeling quite festive by the time we reached our destination. With no particular gift ideas in mind we wandered through shops and ended up chatting with quite a few people. One businessman in particular is always a joy to speak with, at any time of the year…but he wasn’t around—for the past month he’s been in South America. 

I know, you’re probably thinking he’s escaped the harsh Canadian winter and is enhancing his tan by laying on a beach somewhere, or is perhaps sipping a refreshing beverage and letting the stressful life of back home fade away…or maybe doing some other touristy thing.
Truth be told…last year he went to South America and spent many months learning the language so that he could return this winter and stay with locals, speak their language, teach them how to grow gardens, and purchase meat for them (normally a treat the locals can only afford 0nce-a-month) and feed many.

And now a month later, he’s seeing rosier cheeks and happier spirits within the people he’s reaching out to in the many communities he’s traveling among.

For this local businessman the rewards are priceless! –A wonderful gift for himself and others!

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

The gifts we give at Christmas
Can be wrapped in papers bright
With a big red bow that sparkles
In the still of Christmas night.
The many toys and playthings
That little ones adore,
The fun and games we cherish,
With the children, on the floor.

The gifts we give our children
Can be presents much more grand
If we’d give them more patience
Or with loving, helping hands.
Time for books and time for dreaming
Friendly moments after school,
To listen to their questions
Let them help to make each rule.

Life can hold a special blessing
If we’ll lend a patient ear;
Teach them loving and believing
Sometimes dry a bitter tear.
Ever doing things together
Sharing moments rich, we live
The things that money cannot buy
Are the nicest gifts we give.

~ Garnett Ann Schultz

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

December is the busiest time of the year. Everyone’s busy preparing for the holidays and continuing family traditions. Has it ever crossed your mind, as to how many really stop and think what Christmas is all about? Are we teaching our children the true meaning of Christmas or how many gifts need to be bought? If we have taught our children the true meaning of Christmas, what we’ve instilled in them will be carried into generations to come. I like to see families create traditions all year long. Afterall, the original gift to all of us here on earth, was given from His heart. For through our hearts, one single gift of kindness, can touch an endless amount of hearts forever.

This is a story about a child that saw the importance of giving and never thought about giving up. Some may think a child isn’t old enough to carry enough wisdom to teach us all a lesson in living. But I’ve learned a heart grows from life’s many challenges and sometimes a child’s challenges can be far greater than some adults. We met a little girl seven years ago, during one of my daughter’s occasional hospital stays. Her name was Beth and she was my daughter’s room mate for a week. Beth was a very happy girl despite her medical problems she was facing. Her long blonde curls always seemed to bounce with her smile. The girls got to know each other well and had become good friends. On the pediatric floor of the hospital, we saw many seriously ill children. It was so sad, even though my daughter had an uncurable kidney disease and not a very good chance of living to see old age herself. We always saw many children with all kinds of cancer, and sadly enough Beth was one of those children. She was doing two weeks of chemo and radiation. I was amazed at her will and determination to never give up despite how very sick her treatments made her. She was always concerned about my daughter and the other children with cancer she grew to know over her many hospital stays.

My daughter’s IV treatments were done after a week and I was happy to finally bring her home. We were awaiting the final discharge orders when Beth appeared from the other side of the curtain that separated their beds. She said, “I want you to have this. I know you need a new kidney, so keep this angel pin with you till you get better. She will watch over you so you smile all over. My friend, John gave this to me to watch over me, but it’s time for this angel to watch over you. When you get your new kidney and smile, you can give this angel to someone that needs her too. I’m done reading my book so here’s my bookmark that has a poem on it called, Don’t Quit!, I know it by heart anyhow.” My daughter thanked her and the girls exchanged hugs and big smiles. I knew, we may never see Beth again, but we never forgot the gift she gave from her heart that day. During that year, we found out Beth has passed away. It was so sad to know such a beautiful little girl was no longer bouncing smiles to everyone she would meet. Her sincere kindness will stay with us forever.

We kept that angel for six more years. My daughter had gone beyond what medical journals had studied and expected from her disease. Was it the angel watching over her or pure luck? My daughter ended up on kidney dialysis for over a year, and one month after almost loosing her, a kidney became available and she received a transplant. My heart tells me, an angel upstairs was watching with a loving smile. My daughter had kept that angel pin and now she felt it was time to give it to someone who needed watched over till they could smile again. She gave it to an elderly man trying to overcome the damage from heart problems and undergoing extensive therapy. His family has informed us, that when he returns home he wants to give the angel to someone he knows suffering from a brain tumor.

How many families and hearts this angel has touched no one knows for sure.

But all it took was one single gift of kindness, that has and will touch an endless amount of hearts forever.

So this Christmas season, look around and see that gift that can’t be bought. Create a tradition with your children or maybe someone you love. Make someone’s day and do the unexpected, let a friend know you care, or greet a stranger with a warm smile. Give the gift that keeps on giving. It’s open twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, it’s a gift from your heart. Afterall, isn’t that what Christmas is all about?

~A Heartprint Original

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

I have a little story I thought I would share with all of you. I recently relocated, bought a house and moved in the first weekend of July.

Since I have been in my new neighborhood, I have had the pleasure of meeting a few of my neighbors who seem to be extremely nice people. For Christmas, I thought I would do something nice for each of the neighbors that I know. I sat down and counted. There were nine neighbors whom I knew by name or spoke with often when I was out in my yard. I also knew which houses they lived in.

I decided to add one more person to my list for a total of ten. This lady that I decided to add lives down the street from me. I meet her every morning walking to work as I drive down the street. She always manages a contagious smile and a hearty wave. I had no idea what her name was and not even sure which house she lived in.

My gift idea was to make small fruit baskets and leave them on each of my neighbor’s front porches or door steps the night of Christmas Eve for them to find, either that night or the next morning. I signed the cards: “Happy Holidays from 5104 Northumberland Road.”

I saved the friendly lady for last, since I was still not exactly sure where she lived. I finally decided upon a house down about where I met her each morning and felt relatively sure that it was hers.

My neighbors really appreciated the baskets and would tell me as they saw me in the yard or they would call, and a couple even came by to thank me.

This morning on my way to work, I placed my mail in the mailbox and noticed a small note inside. It was addressed simply — Resident, 5104 Northumberland Road.

I opened the envelope and took out a Thank You card. I opened the card and read the message which really caught me by surprise.

The card said. “Thank you for the lovely fruit basket you left on the porch of Richard Kelly. It was very thoughtful. Richard Kelly passed away on January 19, 1999. He never stopped talking about how nice it was that someone remembered him in his time of illness. He really appreciated it.”

I was sincerely stunned. I had no idea who Richard Kelly was or that he had been gravely ill. I had left that nice lady’s basket on Mr. Kelly’s porch by accident. I wanted to say by mistake, but that would be wrong. I believe that Richard Kelly was meant to have that basket and the Lord knew that he only had less than a month to live. I hate that the nice lady did not get to receive a fruit basket from me this Christmas, but I believe that if she knew what happened, she would have had outcome no other way.

I feel blessed to have helped Richard Kelly’s last days be more cheerful. This just further reinforces my belief that there are never any mistakes in life — just detours, shortcuts, and small excursions along the way.

~A. Fielder

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

As a young child I can always remember rushing down the steps on Christmas morning and looking around the tree for the biggest box. I always believed that within the biggest box lied the most expensive and best gift. But as time works it magic on the mind and soul of a young man, I soon realized each and every gift was special, unique, and meaningful. In fact, those presents I remember most are the gifts that came directly from the heart, such as one of my mother’s handmade sweaters or scarves. Christmas definitely is not about the gift itself, but rather the thought behind the gift.

This Christmas I have already been blessed to receive the most beautiful and amazing gift in the world, my girlfriend Angela. But I know the true meaning of Christmas is found in the word “giving.” So, this Christmas I promised myself to search and find the most incredible gift for this most incredible girl. I spent many days searching the crowded stores and scanning the numerous holiday catalogs, but nothing seemed to stand out. As Christmas quickly approached I wondered if I would ever find that “perfect” gift. I decided to try the local mall one last time. Maybe I had missed a store or new merchandise had just hit the racks and shelves. But as I quietly passed from one store to the next, nothing attracted my eye. Somewhat defeated, I slowly made my way to the mall exit. But before I could reach the doors, I suddenly found that “perfect” gift.

No, this gift was not found in a fancy department store. It will not be wrapped in pretty paper and adorned with ribbons and bows. In fact, this gift doesn’t have a receipt and can’t be taken back. So, where did I find this “perfect” gift and more importantly what is it? I found it in the eyes of an elderly couple holding hands, I heard it in the playful words between a grandfather and grandson, and I saw it in the actions of a proud new mother.

Yes, the gift is Love! So Angela, this Christmas I give to you My Love and I trust that you will always keep it with you!

Merry Christmas Angela and I LOVE YOU!

~Author unknown

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James

This is a true story. It took place on December 6, 1998.

It happened at our local Service Merchandise story outside of Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

Last week we received a frantic call from a dear friend, Karen, who lives in West Hazleton, Pennsylvania. Karen is the mother of five children — four 1-1/2 year old quadruplets and one delightful three-year old “big sister” named Amanda.

It seems that Amanda has been a good girl all year and all she wanted for Christmas was the “Barney Banjo.” Her mother had called all the stores in their area, but no luck. Her mother had also visited dozens of internet sites in search of the magic banjo, but still, no luck. Karen then began asking all her friends to help in the search.

A local department store flyer was advertising them, so we bypassed Bible study on Sunday, and headed for the store. We stood in line in summer like weather outside of the store.

After we entered the store, I looked up and down the toy aisles, and although the Barney Banjo had been advertised in the flyer, I could not find any.

Then, this clerk came walking around the corner holding a Barney Banjo and presented it directly to me without saying a word. I said thank you, but she remained silent. I noticed her name tag said, “Karen” which kind of surprised me.

My fiance Susan and I went up to the register to purchase it and all the clerks looked at us with awe and disbelief, asking us where we found the Barney Banjo. They said the store had been sold out of them for days.

Then things became very mysterious. Not only did the clerks claim they had run out of the product, but they also looked puzzled when we mentioned “Karen,” the clerk in the back, who gave me the Banjo. No one knew her.

Moreover, Susan never saw Karen, the clerk, but explained how she had seen a flash of light go by her as she walked up and down the aisles on the other side of the store while she was looking for the banjo.

We excitedly called our friend Karen and told her the good news so that she would not have to tell her daughter that Santa could not get her a banjo this year. Karen was so happy. We could feel her smile through the phone lines. That was when we told her the story about the clerk named Karen that no one else saw and she started to cry. A mother’s love knows no distance.

We believe it very well may have been a Christmas angel. (Honest!)

~Author Unknown

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James