Finding the Spirit of Christmas

Is it me, or has the Christmas season lost its luster?

There seem to be fewer houses with outside lights and decorations, fewer Christmas cards in the mail, and less holiday music on the radio. Of course, the newspapers and television channels continue to bombard us with 'perfect gift' ads and commercials, but the whole spirit of happiness, joy and sharing seems to be waning. And really, how many people are going to buy a new Lexus for their spouse as a Christmas gift?

I have done a half-hearted job of setting out our Christmas decorations, but the lights remain in the box and we are still undecided about whether to put up our artificial tree. It hardly seems worth the effort this year. My holiday baking was a bust, thanks to new cookie sheets that burned many of the cookies and destroyed my desire to bake. I am, however, enjoying my annual tradition of listening to each of my 40+ CDs of Christmas music. I also take my little iPod along that contains nothing but Christmas music when I exercise.

I'm doing my best to get into the holiday spirit. A friend and I recently joined a group of people volunteering at the state's largest food bank, in Albuquerque. We spent two back-breaking hours taking donated canned goods from huge bins, carrying them in crates and then depositing them on the appropriate shelf for boxing. The urge to bake, despite the earlier catastrophe, is creeping over me once again, and I couldn't resist the temptation to make fudge, most of which I will give away to appreciative friends. My daughter and I attended the annual holiday stroll and Christmas tree lighting in Old Town Albuquerque. Despite all these efforts, however, the Christmas spirit remains elusive in our home.

Christmas isn't about finding "the perfect gift." It isn't about buying gifts for people we barely know. It isn't about spending tons of money and racking up huge credit card bills. It's a religious holiday, first and foremost. And it's about spending time with family and friends, about remembering to be grateful for our blessings and sharing with those less fortunate. That is the true spirit of Christmas. At my age, and at this stage of my life, there is nothing I need, and few things that I want. My daughter, who is preparing to get her first apartment in a few months, asked for money for Christmas, which she will apply toward a deposit on her apartment. So even if we put our tree up this year, there will be only a few gifts beneath it.

Spending time together, donating some food and toys for the needy, and being mindful of our blessings -- these things, not the number of packages under a tree, represent the true spirit of Christmas.

Winter

Winter. The very word conjures up feelings of cold and darkness.

As readers of this blog know, I don't like winter. I don't like the cold. I don't like the short days and the early sunset.

But lately, I have begun to find a few things to like about my least-favorite time of year. The list isn't long, but it's more than I would have expected.

• I love to be in bed, snuggled between flannel sheets and warmed by a pile of fleece blankets.
• Winter is the time for comfort foods such as soups, stews and chili. It's the time to cook from scratch and fill the house with the wonderful aromas that only homemade foods have.
• December also brings out my desire to bake cookies. I usually make several kinds, including sugar cookies, peanut butter cup cookies and Russian teacakes, in addition to fudge and sometimes, chocolate walnut strudel.
• I appreciate my daily cup of hot tea more than ever on cold winter mornings.
• I love putting on a cozy sweatshirt or sweater to hold off the cold.
• The always beautiful New Mexico sky seems even crisper and bluer during the winter.
• Winter also brings out more of my compassionate side, when I think about the homeless and those who can't afford to heat their homes. This prompts me to donate to organizations that help feed, clothe and shelter the needy.

Don't get me wrong. I still hate the cold and the frozen pipes. And it's so hard not to go to bed at 8 p.m. when the sun sets by 5:00.

But winter isn't all bad, I guess. Besides, after a long, cold winter, I appreciate spring that much more.

Remains of a Life

My sister and I recently shared a very bittersweet experience. With help from her husband, son, father-in-law and nephew, we removed the last items from our father's condo. Then we cleaned it and got it ready for its new owner.

On the one hand, we knew how happy Dad was during his final three years. He lived in a wonderful assisted living facility, in a bright and cheery condo with a beautiful view of a wooded area. But there was something so sad about going through his worldly possessions, deciding what to do with them (keep them, donate them or set them aside for later when our brother will be there to go through them with us) and gradually emptying his place of everything that once had been his.

This was, I thought, the remains of his life. His life was reduced to boxes of 'stuff.' Possessions that at one time had some value to him and to our mother were suddenly being discarded. His clothes went to Goodwill. Most of his furniture and linens was distributed to the women who work as housekeepers in the facility. His kids took items of significance or interest to them. Still, as the items in the condo dwindled, my father's presence also disappeared, until at the end, no trace of him remains in the place he called home for three years.

So that's it. The remains of an 87-year life are nothing more than assorted items (some family heirlooms, others of unknown origin) and boxes of family photographs.

There were some pleasant surprises along the way, however, including the discovery of previously unseen (by my sister and me) photographs of my mother as a teenager and young adult, and photographs of my 18-year-old father in his Navy uniform during World War II. What a handsome couple they were. We still need to go through several old family photo albums,which undoubtedly will hold even more surprises.

We found pictures tucked behind other pictures in frames, including one of a young woman we didn't recognize. Who was she? A relative? A friend of one of our parents? There is no information on the back of the picture, so we will probably never know who she is.

This experience has made me aware of two things: the need to purge some of my many personal items so my daughter isn't faced with the overwhelming task of going through  my possessions after I pass. And the importance of putting pertinent information on photographs, so future generations will know who the people are in the pictures.

Each of my siblings and I have kept some of our parents' personal items. I have a small table, a coffee table, an antique dresser and two chairs, in addition to some of my mother's cookbooks and recipe cards. I also have many of their CDs, mostly 'big band' music, with a few classical CDs and a couple of Christmas albums. These items serve as tangible reminders -- visible memories -- of the lives of my parents. Seeing the furniture or listening to their CDs serve as tangible reminders of my parents. But more important than these things, I have personal memories, as well as the lessons I learned from them: fiscal responsibility, and the importance of family, sharing and generosity. They taught us these lessons, not in words, but through their actions.

What is important really isn't the material items we collect throughout our lives, but the memories we create, the good we do and the lessons we teach our children. These are the things that make our lives worth something. Material possessions will be discarded, but the lessons we learn, what we teach our children, and the things we accomplish will live on.

Autumn in the High Desert

This is such a wonderful time of year in the Southwest. The high desert heat has given way to mild days and very chilly nights. The New Mexico sky is a crisp blue, and the aspens and cottonwoods are bedecked in beautiful golden leaves.

Fall is usually brief in this arid, high-desert land, and the transition between summer and winter often passes in a few short weeks. This makes appreciating this special time of year all the more important. I dread the cold and darkness of winter, so I try to savor this time of year as much as possible.

This is the season for homemade soups, stews and chili. It's the season for flannel sheets, fleece jackets and sweatshirts in the early morning, and for long pants after months of wearing shorts. It is time to relish being outside, knowing that the howling winds and frigid temperatures aren't far away. One of my favorite things about fall is the ability to leave a bedroom window open at night. I love the feeling of cool air in the room, while I snuggle in my bed, warmed by flannel sheets and blankets.

Fall in New Mexico also is the time for tens of thousands of birds, including the beautiful sandhill cranes, to take up their winter residence at Bosque del Apache and other areas.

This is the time of year to have the tank filled with propane, to have the roof inspected and to do last-minute yard work. Even yard work isn't as objectionable when done on a gorgeous day.

Unfortunately, fall also is the time when members of the local field mouse population decide to make their annual invasion of my house, in search of food and warmer temperatures. Despite two years of a pest control man doing 'exclusion' work to seal potential access points, this year once again found mice in the pantry (one of them chewed open a new bag of veggie straws), in my daughter's bedroom and in her bathroom. It's still too early to tell whether round three of exclusion work has solved the problem.

The weather forecast is calling for temperatures to plummet into the 20s at night in just a couple of days, with highs in the low 40s and strong winds. So I have just one more day to enjoy the beauty of fall. Already, the approaching Pacific storm is impacting the area, with cooler temperatures and mostly cloudy skies.

So today I will enjoy excercising outside, knowing that soon I will be driven inside, where my treadmill waits patiently in the garage.

Sharing to Prosper

"You have to be able to share to prosper in this world." -- Curtis Naseyowma, carver of kachinas, representations of benevolent spirits.

The timing of this quote in today's paper is so appropriate. We are now in the traditional season of sharing. Halloween is barely behind us, but the stores are filled with Christmas music, brightly decorated trees and special displays to entice shoppers to spend their money.

This time of year causes me to more greatly appreciate my blessings, and as a result, I am more generous in my charitable donations. I donate a considerable amount of time, money and food throughout the year. But there is something about this season that makes me want to do more than usual. And I am fortunate to be able to share my bounty, when so many in this country are in need.

Maybe it's the thought of people going hungry at Thanksgiving, a time when Americans traditionally stuff themselves. As a volunteer at a local food pantry, I see the faces of hungry people every week. Maybe it's the thought of the homeless, cold and hungry as the nighttime temperatures drop into the 30s. I have always hated cold weather, and spending a cold night outside is unimaginable. Maybe it's the Christmas season that makes me more aware of how blessed I have been, and continue to be.

I have a beautiful house to keep me cool in summer, warm in winter, and dry when it rains or snows. I have nice clothes and warm coats. I have food in the pantry and in the freezer. I never have to wonder where I will get my next meal, or think about making my food stretch until I can get more from the food pantry or food bank.

Lately, I have found myself touched more than usual by the stories of abused animals in need of veterinary treatment. I was moved by the appeal for funds from a shelter for the homeless in Albuquerque. A friend from the food pantry and I have signed up to work a shift at the biggest food bank in New Mexico, and to deliver cases of bottled water to a homeless shelter. I have taken advantage of sales at local grocery stores to purchase cans of hearty, non-condensed soup for $1 each for the food pantry. I'm sending a check to the sister of a friend who has lost everything as she struggles to survive a second bout of cancer and pay for her medical treatments.

These are all small acts. I mention them not to pat myself on the back or to seek glory or acclaim. I'm not that kind of person. I do what I do because it makes me feel good to help, and because I feel obligated to share my blessings with those less fortunate. 

There are so many ways to share that don't require a great deal of money. Buy an extra can or two of soup or vegetables when they are on sale, and donate them. At this time of year, there are collection barrels for non-perishable food in many grocery stores. If you have a garden or fruit trees, consider donating some fresh produce to your local food bank or pantry. Volunteer a few hours a week for whatever cause moves you. Be a big brother or big sister to an at-risk child. Help a child with homework. Teach someone to read. Help immigrants learn English. Visit a lonely person in a nursing home. Walk dogs at an animal shelter, or foster a cat until it can be adopted.

My family was not wealthy, yet we we were taught, by example, to help others. My mother was active in church activities that raised funds for a variety of programs. My father bought cases of canned goods and donated them to the annual food drive held by his assisted living facility. After his death, we donated non-perishable food from his condo to the local food bank, as he would have wanted. My sister donated the furniture, lamps and linens from his condo to several immigrant housekeepers, who were thrilled to accept these items for their families.

I believe that sharing does make me prosper. The dictionary defines prosperous as "having or characterized by financial success or good fortune." I feel prosperous because I have a wealth of blessings and good fortune. And I have the rewards that come from sharing my time, talents and resources with others. So yes, I do feel prosperous.

I hope that my daughter also learns the true meaning of prosperity and the spirit of giving to others, and that she will carry on our family tradition. If I can pass on to her a generosity of spirit, a willingness to serve others and an appreciation for her blessings, I will have done my job.

May you also prosper through your sharing.

It's a Small World

I am always amazed when I see how many readers of this blog are international. Of course, most readers are from the U.S., but it's still incredible to note that one day, there were more readers from Russia than from the United States.

Over the past couple of years, I have noted readers from the U.K., Canada, France, Latvia, Brazil, Sweden, Germany, Japan, South Korea, Greece, Venezuela, Kenya, Chile, Hungary, Latvia, Trinidad and Tobago, Colombia, Slovenia, Australia, Bulgaria, Malaysia and India, to name just a few.

My readers don't provide much feedback, so I have no idea what they think about what they read. This blog covers a variety of topics, which means it is likely that readers aren't interested in just one area of discussion. I also can't tell whether any of my international readers are repeat visitors. So if you are reading this blog from a country other than the U.S., I would love to hear your feedback. Where did you hear about the blog? Are you a repeat visitor, or is this your first time? Is there anything you would like for me to write about?



I would love to hear from my international readers. It's amazing to think that this little blog, with only a handful of followers, and which is written on my computer in the southwestern part of the United States, can be, and is, read by people in all corners of the world. 

Welcome Fall!

Today is the first day of autumn. It is also a feast for the senses. Sights, sounds and smells unique to this time of year abound. The brilliant New Mexico sky, always a crisp, bright blue, seems bluer than ever. The nights and early mornings are wonderfully cool, although daytime temperatures still climb into the mid 80s. I can sleep with my bedroom window open, which is wonderful after months of having the house closed up against the searing heat of the desert. The air conditioner remains remarkably quiet much of the day.

I love autumn. Especially in the desert, it is such a refreshing change from the constant heat. If we're lucky, the annual 'monsoon' season will bring us some much-needed rain as well, although that hasn't happened yet. Fall in central New Mexico also heralds the roasting of green chiles, a wonderful smell (although I have yet to buy a 30-pound box of chiles, roasted or otherwise) and the annual Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta, the world's largest. I love the sight of hundreds of hot air balloons gliding overhead, and there is something special about the sound of the propane burners when they light to heat the air and keep the balloons aloft.

Birds have started their migrations, following the Rio Grande on their journey south. On a morning walk along the bosque, I heard the honking of geese and the noises of what appeared to be hundreds of sand hill cranes flying over the river. The cottonwoods and other trees are starting to show yellow in some of their leaves. Sunrise is later, which I appreciate since my bedroom faces east. The down side is that the sun is setting earlier, too.

Fall in the desert brings out a profusion of yellow flowers -- sunflowers, black-eyed susans, chamisa and other plants with bright yellow blooms.

My thoughts also have turned to cool-weather comfort foods such as homemade soups and stews. It's still too hot for soup, of course, but I know it won't be long before the wonderful aroma of simmering soup fills the house.

And after months of wearing shorts and short-sleeve tops, it is a nice change to be able to wear 3/4 sleeves or a jacket early in the morning. It isn't long, however, before I have to change into short sleeves once again.

This is a wonderful, but often unappreciated, time of year. People tend to think of autumn in terms of the end of summer, or the return to school, or as the precursor to a long, cold winter. I think we should appreciate autumn for its own merits: cooler weather; crisp mornings; warm, wonderful comfort foods; perfect weather for sleeping with the windows open; and an opportunity to spend more time outside enjoying the beauty of nature.