It’s the day after Christmas, and if your house is like mine, bags of crumpled wrapping paper piled up under the carport and enough leftovers for a week.

The spirit of Christmas doesn’t have to be end. We need to remember the generosity of some folks in our midst and pay forward their giving spirit all year.

The people in Pecan Grove understand what the holiday spirit is all about.

For decades, families have decorated their yards for the Christmas season, and people drive from all over to see the lights.

We know about this first hand since we lived in Pecan Grove for over 20 years.

Our boys were toddlers when we moved in, and we told them the lights were a Texas way of welcoming us to their midst.

Pecan Grovers are still welcoming, and this year, neighbors outdid themselves. Visitors were welcome to take pictures in front yards. At the “Frozen” house, the owners dressed as Anna and Elsa and greeted visitors every night.

One home encouraged people to take pictures with their yard signs. A neighbor dressed up as The Grinch and handed out candy canes.

But what touched so many was the Facebook Wish List where people in Pecan Grove could nominate families needing a helping hand and receive the help they needed and much more.

Even though we moved, administrator Paul Christy invited me to stay as a member of the Facebook group, and I’ve been reading the incredible responses to people in need.

Sometimes it was a family asking for help, a neighbor with a debilitating disease, someone out of work, a single parent trying to make ends meet. The wishes were granted above and beyond what was asked.

People banded together and gave thousands of dollars in gift cards, donated frozen meals to those unable to cook, donated bicycles, groceries, toys and furniture.

They made connections for employment for those out of work and provided hope for those unsure of where to reach out for help.

Not only was the list of items provided more than what the family asked for, the bounty was made possible by neighbors who chipped in to bring an abundance of Christmas cheer.

That’s what a whole neighborhood can do when they have a mission, but young families, like Coy and Lisa Elliott, also spread holiday cheer.

Our eldest son, Nick, has been friends with Coy since they were in high school.

Coy, his wife, Lisa, and their three sons were part of their church effort to deliver food and supplies to the homeless in downtown Houston.

But the Elliotts went past that Christmas charity.

They found out about three elderly veterans at a local nursing home who seldom received visitors.

The Elliotts went to the nursing home and brought slippers and gifts to these men who served their country when asked and were now in the twilight of their lives with few visitors left to see them.

The Elliotts not only brought smiles to these men’s faces, they taught their sons the true meaning of charity and good will.

I was picking up some last-minute Christmas gifts with my sister-in-law who’s battled rheumatoid arthritis all of her adult life. Things are tight for them as medical bills keep rising, and my brother had to get a new job as his company was closing.

On our way out of the store, my sister-in-law reached over and handed an elderly lady sitting some cash and told her to have a Merry Christmas. I never even thought of randomly giving a stranger a gift, but she did.

She reminded me of an invaluable lesson – to preserve our humanity and to make the world a better place, we need to keep that spirit alive year round, and not just at Christmas.

There will always be those who suddenly find themselves in trouble – if we all reach out together, we can make a positive difference.

There will always be a lonesome person in a nursing home – let’s remember them at holidays throughout the year.

There will always be someone in need. Let’s remember it is truly more heart-warming to give rather than receive.

And let’s keep that holiday spirit alive each and every day of the year.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

 

In the movie “Field of Dreams,” a voice whispers to Ray Kinsella “Go the distance.”

I thought about that phrase when wrapping Christmas gifts this week. After a full day, the last thing I wanted to do was fiddle with wrapping paper and bows.

I’ve always been a fan of curling ribbon, and I usually love creating colorful swirls of curling ribbon on top of the wrapped boxes.

This year, I was tired. I wanted to slap some wrapping paper on the box, write the person’s name on the front with a magic marker – forget a gift tag – and be done with the whole enterprise.

But after wrapping the first gift and looking at the plain box, I could hear my mom whispering – go the distance.

Take the Extra Step

Years ago, I volunteered to make sandwiches for a family baby shower. A few days before the event, my mom called and asked what kind of sandwiches I was going to make.

“Chicken salad,” I said. “I’ll just pick up a container of pre-made stuff from the store.”

“You’re going to cut the crusts off those sandwiches, right?” my mom asked.

“No way,” I told her. “That takes too much time.”

She didn’t say anything for a minute, and then came the zinger.

“You need to go the extra step and cut the crusts off,” Mom replied. “That extra step shows the guests you think they’re special.”

Frankly, I didn’t think anybody would pay much attention to whether or not there were crusts on the sandwiches.

But my mom’s words stuck with me, and I ended up cutting the crusts off.

They did look a bit fancier that way, and I learned going the extra distance is worth the trouble and not only for crust-less fancy sandwiches.

The extra step is what people do when guests are coming over and you sit at the table with real forks instead of passing around a bag of chips and a jar of salsa.

The extra step is when we ask someone about their day, wait for an answer and truthfully ask an interested follow-up question.

We don’t always have to add the extra step for others – taking that extra step for ourselves makes life easier and more enjoyable.

When taking off our dirty clothes, the extra step is turning them right-side out and then putting them in a clothes basket instead of dropping them on the floor.

We don’t have to look all over the place for our dirty clothes – they’re in one place, making life easier.

Plus when we take the clothes out of the dryer, we don’t have to turn them right-side out. That step is already done because we took time at the front end.

The extra step is what I need to do to these presents before I put them under the tree. The people I love, the ones I spent time shopping for, deserve that extra step of my curling the ribbons on their Christmas gifts.

There are days when the bag and the jar are going the extra distance, when we drop our dirty clothes on the floor because we’re dog tired, and we don’t have the energy to hear someone whine about their day.

And that’s okay.

There’s a secret about the extra step – if we always took that step, it would no longer be special.

At the end of the night, I looked at the gifts, ribbons dangling over the edges and pretty name tags on the front.

Mom was right. Going the extra step is definitely worth it, especially for the people who are extra special and that includes you.

May your travels and loved ones be safe this holy season. Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all of you!

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

I’ve always racked up mileage on a car.

I blamed the miles on taking the boys to and from school every day, going to sports practices and games and the long distance between home and the grocery store.

The truth is, I’ve always loved driving.

For my 15^th birthday, the only thing I wanted was my driver’s license. Back in the day in Louisiana, the legal age to get a driver’s license was 15, and I was the first one in line on my birthday.

I was ready on all counts. My dad said if I didn’t know how to drive a stick shift, I didn’t know how to drive, so he spent a few afternoons teaching me the art of using a clutch and the column shift.

I remember learning how to maneuver the shift “H” on the column. That Ford moved like the wind, which made sense as the police in town drove the same model and style car.

The Ford had a habit of stalling, and I got pretty good at talking friends into pushing the car while I popped the clutch.

The first car where the keys stayed in my purse was my dad’s old Pontiac Executive.

There were lots of reasons why my dad gave me that car. Mainly, he got a better one and gave me the junker.

I had to pump the brakes to get the car to stop, and the butterfly valve on the engine stuck.

Starting the car on cold mornings required two people. One person had to pop the hood and jiggle the valve while the other person started the car. But then we were off for adventures.

My favorite part of driving the car at night was the dimmer switch for the lights. It was on the floor, near my left foot, and I’ve never understood why car engineers deleted that option.

When my brother started driving, my dad traded the Pontiac for an old 1958 Chevy. Driving that car was like driving a tank, and my mom liked that just fine.

One morning, the car’s thermostat came on while I was on my way to school.

I pulled over at a gas station – back then there were mechanics at the gas station – and I asked him to take a look.

He came around to my window and told me not to get out of the car. Apparently a cat had crawled up into the engine compartment to stay warm, and he didn’t get out in time when the fan came on.

The attendant said I didn’t want to see what was under the hood. I was relieved a few years later when Detroit started putting a housing on engine fans.

The first car I ever bought on my own was a white hatch-back Honda Civic. The price was non-negotiable which was fine as the sticker total was a few thousand dollars below anything else on the market.

That car was reliable, fast and easy on gas and maintenance. I kept that car for years until our second child was coming along. No way could we fit a car seat, a 5-year-old and two adults in that little car.

I cried when we sold it, even though I knew we had to, and happily drove mini vans until our youngest son went to college.

I moved to sedans for a while, but with four grandchildren in the Houston area, I’ve been driving a Highlander with a third seat.

Some days, I wish I still had that old Ford, just so I could see if I could still pop the clutch.

Until then, I’ll have to be content with all the bells and whistles on modern cars.

I think I can handle it.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald

When my eldest son was born, I panicked when it was time to take the baby home.

“How do they know I can take care of him?”

“I don’t know if I can take care of this baby!”

“There’s no manual, no guide, no directions. Don’t they know I don’t have a clue what to do?”

Luckily I had my mom to help guide me through those first few weeks, and she was a life saver, both to me and my son.

She gave him his first bath because I was scared to put him in water.

I agonized over whether to put him to sleep on his back or his stomach. Both scenarios had dire consequences, and I got up numerous times during the night to flip him over to his tummy and then over to his back.

That was almost 40 years ago, and he turned out just fine. When the second and third babies came around, I felt like I had the hang of things, but I never forgot the feelings I had with the first baby.

I thought about those days when our friends, Bridget and Dave, announced their first grandchild had been born.

When buying a baby gift, I thought I’d include a note to help the new parents through those first few weeks. Here goes:

“How can something so small…”

Something that small can scream loud enough to shatter your eardrums. At times, that endless screech will be like a sword running through your head.

Of all the things you imagined your newborn doing, how their voice sounded probably never occurred to you.

That oversight will come back to haunt you at 2 a.m.

Something that small can generate more dirty diapers than you ever thought possible.

You’ll change the diaper and, literally two minutes later, they are filling the diaper up all over again. Get used to it. That end of your newborn is the gift that keeps giving.

Something that small needs more clothes than a fashion shoot. There’s onesies for casual day-time wear, and you need at least a dozen because babies spit up all the time.

You also need booties, socks, hats, extra pacifiers and at least three back-up outfits for all trips.

You’ll need at least a dozen receiving blankets. Those are used to keep the baby warm and they come in handy to catch the never-ending flow of spit-up, leaking diapers and to put over your shoulder for the inevitable spit up that erupts like a volcano and with as much regularity.

Something that small will cause you to completely redecorate your house. For the first few days, you’ll think the breakables can stay on the coffee table.

Wrong.

Those have to go to make room for the extra diapers, boxes of wipe ups, stacks of diapers, clean clothes and empty plates you’ll generate because you can no longer eat at the table. You’re eating on the couch with the baby on your lap.

Enjoy those action movies filled with profanity now. Once the baby starts babbling, you’ll have to save those for when the baby’s asleep. Get used to watching Paw Patrol and Bubble Guppies.

Everything within arms’ reach has to be evaluated – can they swallow it? Break it? Chew on it? Smash it? Have an oversized wine glass filled with wine corks? Those now become choking hazards. That breakable joins the glass figurines and remote controls on the top shelf of the bookcase.

But there’s a bright side.

Something this small will cause your heart to grow more than you ever thought possible. You thought you knew what love was when you met your significant other.

That’s nothing compared to the love you’ll feel for this so-small person you’ve welcomed into your life.

Something this small will make you believe in miracles, and you’ll wonder how you ever survived without this child.

Something this small will make the biggest impact in your life, bigger than you ever thought possible.

That bigger-than-life feeling will stay with you for the rest of your life.

Something so small requires something big – your heart.

You’ll gladly hand it over.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.