Merry Christmas! If you have young children, there’s probably a sea of crumpled wrapping paper and ribbon covering the living room floor.

The kids are playing with the boxes as much as they are the toys, and you’re probably going to stay in your pajamas all day.

Parents are wondering how in the world they’re going to find room for new trains, toy cars and dolls. Then there’s the aggravation of watching them play with their favorite old toys instead of the new ones.

Those with teens have a different kind of silence on Christmas morning. Teens are immersed in cell-phone worlds, listening to music on headphones or tapping away on their laptops.

Those of us who are retired enjoy the peace and quiet, but there’s a feeling of nostalgia for the days when we had little ones in the house.

On this Christmas Day in Pecan Grove, there are families experiencing a blessed holiday who never thought they’d have a happy one this year.

That’s because of the wonderfully generous Pecan Grove Christmas Elves.

Many of us are familiar with Pecan Grove for their Christmas light displays. The subdivision is famous around the Houston area for having incredible light and yard displays.

Thousands of people drive through the neighborhood in December to marvel at the lights and creative ways people decorate their yards.

But what people don’t know is that behind the tinsel and twinkling lights are people who fundamentally understand that Christmas might include making life a little easier for their neighbors.

Behind the scenes, with little fanfare, some of the people in Pecan Grove have made sure those in need have a happy holiday. The Facebook caption is “The Wish,” and this effort has been going on for the past few years.

The group posts a letter from either a person in need in Pecan Grove or a friend who knows that neighbor would never ask for help.

The struggles they face are overwhelming. Lost jobs, health issues, inability to keep up with house maintenance due to illness and more.

But Santa’s elves in Pecan Grove come to the rescue.

For one family, the elves came and cut the grass, shaped up the trees and lawn and got companies to donate to help create a beautiful place in the back yard so the mom could have a beautiful place to recuperate while undergoing chemotherapy.

The elves provided hayrides, gift certificates to local grocery stores and more than the person ever asked for or thought possible.

It’s easy these days where there’s overwhelming bad news, rising prices, and a general depression about the state of the world. That pessimism can overshadow the good that’s happening here in our community.

Many thanks to the people in Pecan Grove for going above and beyond in yard decorating and putting up with traffic snarls and crowded streets to bring strangers holiday joy. The look on children’s faces as they look at the displays is worth a million dollars.

But to know these neighbors also reach out and help those in need is all the reminder I need that the world is going to be just fine.

Their generosity reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from the late Fred Rogers.

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”

Mr. Rogers’ mother was right.

The helpers are right here in our community, neighbors helping neighbors, people helping strangers and angels making sure those in need are comforted.

Thank you, Pecan Grove, for reminding us that giving to those in need is what really keeps the world a holy and loving place.

Merry Christmas to you and yours!

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

I remember teaching my teenage sons how to drive. My right foot stomped the floorboard constantly as I yelled “brake, brake.” There were probably fingernail holes in the dashboard as they considered stretches of open road as an invitation to practice their Daytona 500 skills.

Now our eldest grandson is practicing his driving skills. Alex and I spend a lot of time in the car together, so I’ve become one of his primary instructors.

Poor kid.

We started out in a mostly deserted school parking lot with Alex getting comfortable with the brakes and handling the steering wheel and gas pedal.

One of the toughest driving lessons is learning how wide the car is. That helps a driver stay in his or her lane without hitting a mailbox or a trash can. From first-hand knowledge of hitting both things when I learned how to drive, I knew that was an important skill.

Then there’s driving when there’s oncoming traffic. Years ago, cars were a lot smaller, but the lanes stayed the same width. Alex has to learn how to stay in his lane when an oversized F-250 truck is barreling down the other side of the road.

These are all mechanical lessons. The hardest lesson is defensive driving, namely avoiding stupid drivers.

Every time we’ve gone out, we’ve witnessed bonehead moves. I never realized how many stupid maneuvers people make until I started paying attention for Alex’s sake.

On one of our first excursions, we saw a truck come to a complete halt in the middle of a busy intersection, back up, and then turn left.

We’ve seen more than one driver run a red light, barrel through a stop sign without slowing down and cross four lanes of traffic on the freeway to exit.

In just a few outings, we’d seen enough bonehead moves to last a lifetime. But we needed to move on, and that next lesson was freeway driving.

We had a trip planned to visit Texas State University in San Marcos, and the best way to get there is Interstate 10.

In reality, few of us are equipped for the free-for-all known as I-10, but I hoped this stretch of highway away from any major cities would be a little calmer.

He handled the interstate with skill and calm. He did the same driving in the rain and driving when daylight turns dark.

With those maneuvers down pat, we moved to the next item on the learning-to-drive list – handling roundabouts. They’re supposed to be safer, but Texas drivers don’t have a clue how to drive on them.

Nobody knows who has the right-of-way, and the philosophy is whoever drives the fastest gets to merge whenever they want.

Not the lesson I want to teach, but we’ll handle that one in January.

Then there’s parallel parking. The only reason we’re going to tackle this maneuver is because it’s on the driving test. My advice to Alex was to keep driving until he found a parking lot.

One of our last lessons will be driving on I-10 to downtown Houston. Our son-in-law had our granddaughter drive there at night so she could learn interstate driving, night-time driving and how to get around city streets.

I told Alex we’d get up early on a Sunday morning and go when there’s not as much traffic. I’m not as brave as our son-in-law.

Helping Alex practice driving has been a fun shared experience, and I’m thrilled I play a small part in his learning. Wish us luck as we continue to tackle the next two hardest lessons when behind the wheel of a vehicle – parallel parking and handling bone-head drivers.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

 

There’s a reason there’s a box of tissues in every pew at funerals. We shed tears as we remember our loved ones. But I wonder if for some people, being remembered with tears isn’t the choice they’d make.

One of the elders in our family, Aunt Mary Bett, recently passed away at the age of 95. She was a teacher, registrar, avid reader and cook. Mostly, she loved being a “Siti,” the Lebanese word for grandmother.

I wasn’t looking forward to the tears, but that’s not how Aunt Mary lived her life, and it wasn’t how her family honored her.

Instead, they chose to celebrate her life. Aunt Mary’s granddaughters created colorful posters with pictures featuring the different fun occasions the family shared.

As I went from poster to poster, one fact stood out – Aunt Mary was not only there, but she was an active participant in the festivities. Relatives spoke about Aunt Mary with laughter, and the photos surrounding us of her reflected her sunny disposition.

After the wake, we went to Aunt Mary’s house for food and visiting. Having the opportunity to reconnect with cousins was incredible. The cousins sat around the table – Aunt Mary’s favorite spot – and swapped family stories and lots of laughs.

We had shared memories of summers in Olean, N.Y., the homes and buildings we remembered roaming when we were kids. I came to appreciate even more their parents and our shared grandparents and great-grandparents.

Reminiscing about how our family made it through the early difficult years reminded me how fortunate I am to come from such strong people. That tough gene is obvious in my cousins who are incredible men and women.

It might sound weird to say I was glad I went to a funeral, but family bonds were strengthened that evening. I think Aunt Mary would be happy knowing we were sitting around her table sharing family lore.

On the way home, I thought about the hundreds of times my family has sat around a dinner table, talking for hours, playing games, eating and then going back for seconds. We went from kids around the table to teenagers to young adults to having grandchildren sit on our laps.

In all those occasions, there’s one constant – our mom. In the beginning she cooked all the food we ate. Later, she guided us as we slowly took over kitchen duties. Not only did she make sure we were all fed, Mom made sure she came to family functions.

Mom attended the graduation festivities for almost every grandchild, even the ones who lived in a different state. I took for granted she was going to come. I never considered the time she put in to make sure she was there for family.

Whenever she physically can, our 93-year-old Mom comes to family events for her great-grandchildren, and the little ones love to come and talk to her.

That showing up runs in our family. Our beloved Aunt Bev, who passed away much too young, came to almost every wedding and celebration we had.

It didn’t matter that she and our Uncle Jim had to book flights from Buffalo, N.Y. to Louisiana to celebrate with us.

It didn’t matter if it was summer in the South. Those two Northerners came and smiled through the humidity and heat.

Sorrow is a tough emotion, but it’s eased when shared by those who share your past.

Joy is a powerful emotion and enhanced when shared by those who love you.

If you’re lucky to be part of a large, healthy extended family – aunts, uncles, cousins upon cousins – try and attend family celebrations and, yes, even the sorrowful ones.

I like to think Aunt Mary was sitting with us that night, laughing at the stories we remembered. We’re connected when we sit around the kitchen table and share not only bread but memories.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.