A Christmas Adventure with Grandma

Merry Christmas!

The following story was sent to me by a friend. I thought I'd share it with you.

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb. "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her wonderful cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me.

"No Santa Claus?" she snorted, "Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, just plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, get in the car, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second bun.

"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.

That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, and the people who went to my church.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker! He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out at recess time during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; what he didn't really have was a good coat.

I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a deep red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked really warm, and I knew that he would like that.

"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby Decker." The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she placed the coat in a colorful bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, as Grandma helped me wrap the coat, a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible. The coat was wrapped in nice Christmas paper and red ribbons and we wrote a nice label that read, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus".

Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever, officially one of Santa's helpers.

Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down before the door on his stoop, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.

Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby, peering into the dark night. And then I felt a really warm thrill course through my being.

Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those horrid rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: Ridiculous!

Santa was alive and well, and we were all on his team.

When Grandma went to heaven, she left the Bible for me. I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.

May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care. And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!

Jimmie Roberson

Those Awful Kidney Stones!

This past Thursday, while my husband, Philip, was taking Jordan, one of our grandsons, to get his stitches out from his finger surgery, he (Philip) began to have some severe pain that he self-diagnosed as kidney stones. Once you've had one, you KNOW what the pain feels like! After a visit to his doctor, a scan, two shots, pain pills, and a referral to a urologist on Friday, he came home for a miserable evening. We thought it would be a simple thing to get those stones (multiple ones) blasted by the urologist.

We had forgotten about the Plavix. Philip takes that, along with several other medications, for his heart problems. The urologist said he would need to get permission from his heart doctor to get off the Plavix and aspirin for 7-10 days (to prevent excess bleeding) before having the stones blasted. In the meantime, he would need a stent inserted to prevent damage to his kidney. This involved outpatient surgery and having to have general anesthesia. How complicated some events become. We finally got back home about 11:00PM Friday evening with five more medications for him.

He's been watching all his favorite Christmas movies on TV and sleeping quite a bit. I'm glad we had gotten our tree and some outside decorations up before this turn of events. I've decided today that I don't need those other 35 boxes of decorations for it to feel like Christmas. For, to me, Christmas, is where Philip is.

Jimmie Roberson

Lunch On The Cumberland River

On Tuesday of this week the Tuesday Morning Ladies Bible Study had lunch together at Betty's house on the Cumberland River. What a beautiful setting and Betty is a great hostess with a beautiful home decorated exquisitely for the Christmas holidays. We had 27 wonderful women present - supportive women who are always there when you need a hug or a pat on the back or a kind word. The food was, as usual, so tasty. Bonnie and I took a plate to one of our group who has had a stroke and couldn't be with us. We enjoyed a good visit with her. She's finally back in her own home but, because of her limited mobility and use of only one hand, struggles to do some things, like opening a canned drink, or preparing food for herself. If you're reading this and you're a praying person, please say a prayer for Peggy.

Be back later!

Jimmie Roberson

Thanksgiving

This past Thanksgiving was the one for all the family to descend on Doris and Doyle in Alabama. Doris is my husband's sister and Doyle is her husband. For most of our married life they've had the family at their home for Thanksgiving. This year we had 41 in attendance. Another 28 members were unable to be there for one reason or another. Everyone brings all kinds of delicious and calorie-laden food and we all eat too much. Doris used to make that yummy southern cornbread dressing - now her son carries on the tradition.

Our son, Phil, took some great photos of all of us. I've made a Thanksgiving 2008 book for Doris and Doyle. It was really not too hard. I went to Mypublisher.com and downloaded their free program. It's best to have already given some thought as to how you want to arrange your photos before you begin to make the book. It probably took me about an hour or so. Best of all, it only took them a couple of days to make it and it's already been shipped. I can't wait to get it! Calendars and cards are also an option.

It was good to be with our extended family. I am so thankful for our good health that allowed us to be there once again.

Jimmie Roberson

My Mother

This season of the year makes me miss my mother. Her birthday was November 24th - if she were still with us she would be 103 this year. This oil painting is one I painted of her last year - she wasn't really sitting on a garden bench, but on a hospital bed with her hands clasped around one of her knees. Those tinted pink lenses in her glasses hid her beautiful blue eyes. She was eighty-eight years old at the time. I had said something funny to her so she would laugh - and she did. I painted her outside because that's where she loved to be - working in the garden. I'm so thankful I had a mother I could always count on to be there for me no matter what happened. If your mother is still living, why don't you give her a call or send her a card and tell her how much you love and appreciate her.

Jimmie Roberson