OT - Adventure with Grandma

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Donna in Idah » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 12:27:06



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 world-famous 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, plain mad.
Now, put on your coat, and let's go."  "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked.
I hadn't even finished my second world-famous, cinnamon 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, 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
second grade class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat.  I knew that
because he never went out for recess 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, and he didn't have
a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing e***ment. I would
buy Bobby Decker a coat!  I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood
to it. It looked real warm, and 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.  " I replied shyly.
"It's....for Bobby."
The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the
coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and
ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in
her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it -- 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
on his step, pounded his doorbell 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.

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 awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said
they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.

 ===============================

He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find Christmas under a
tree.

--
Donna in Idaho
Reply to daawra3553 at yahoo dot com

 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by CATS » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 12:40:40


Thanks Donna

--

Cheryl & the Cats in OZ
    o  o             o  o            o  o
(  > Y <  )   (  > Y <  )   (  > Y <  )
Enness         Boofhead       Donut
http://www.FoundCollection.com/
catsatararatATyahooDOTcomDOTau



: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 world-famous
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, plain mad.
: Now, put on your coat, and let's go."  "Go? Go where,
Grandma?" I asked.
: I hadn't even finished my second world-famous, cinnamon
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, 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
: second grade class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat.  I
knew that
: because he never went out for recess 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, and he
didn't have
: a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing
e***ment. I would
: buy Bobby Decker a coat!  I settled on a red corduroy one
that had a hood
: to it. It looked real warm, and 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.  " I replied
shyly.
: "It's....for Bobby."
: The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but
she put the
: coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.
:
: That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas
paper and
: ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma
tucked it in
: her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on
it -- 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
: on his step, pounded his doorbell 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.
:
: 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 awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what
Grandma said
: they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we
were on his team.
: I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside:
$19.95.
:
: ===============================
:
: He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find
Christmas under a
: tree.
:
: --
: Donna in Idaho
: Reply to daawra3553 at yahoo dot com
:
:

 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Cindy Schmid » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 12:45:17


Thank you so much Donna.  I just needed to hear something like tonight.

--
Cindy from MO



Quote:
>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 world-famous 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, plain mad.
> Now, put on your coat, and let's go."  "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked.
> I hadn't even finished my second world-famous, cinnamon 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, 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
> second grade class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat.  I knew that
> because he never went out for recess 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, and he didn't have
> a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing e***ment. I would
> buy Bobby Decker a coat!  I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood
> to it. It looked real warm, and 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.  " I replied shyly.
> "It's....for Bobby."
> The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the
> coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

> That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and
> ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in
> her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it -- 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
> on his step, pounded his doorbell 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.

> 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 awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said
> they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
> I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.

> ===============================

> He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find Christmas under a
> tree.

> --
> Donna in Idaho
> Reply to daawra3553 at yahoo dot com

 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Dee in O » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 13:21:29


Thanks Donna I *really* needed to get teary 5 minutes before stepping
out the door to go to work.

Dee in Oz

Quote:

> 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 world-famous 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, plain mad.
> Now, put on your coat, and let's go."  "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked.
> I hadn't even finished my second world-famous, cinnamon 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, 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
> second grade class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat.  I knew that
> because he never went out for recess 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, and he didn't have
> a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing e***ment. I would
> buy Bobby Decker a coat!  I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood
> to it. It looked real warm, and 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.  " I replied shyly.
> "It's....for Bobby."
> The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the
> coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

> That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and
> ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in
> her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it -- 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
> on his step, pounded his doorbell 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.

> 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 awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said
> they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
> I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.

>  ===============================

> He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find Christmas under a
> tree.

> --
> Donna in Idaho
> Reply to daawra3553 at yahoo dot com

 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Polly Esthe » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 13:55:07


This whole week was spent  helping Santa.  There's enough previously loved
baby dolls lining up in the sewing room to look like the chorus line at . .
. well, no.  They don't look like a chorus line.  Some of my neighbors came
through this afternoon and truly wanted to carry off a beautiful 'new' baby.
They'll just have to go buy their own.  Cost of a buggy full of loved dolls
at the thrift shop, $ 7.00; cost of 409 to make them clean as new, about $
1.50; cost of dressing them in silk, ribbon and lace - neglible;  helping
Santa:  Priceless.     Polly
 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Maloney Empir » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 14:12:39


Thankyou Donna, your story reminded me of my "Ma" - she died when I was 6
and I am now 60, nearly 61.  She was a very special person who always told
the truth too.

--
Di Maloney
Please remove 1 from email address to reply direct.


| 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 world-famous 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, plain mad.
| Now, put on your coat, and let's go."  "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked.
| I hadn't even finished my second world-famous, cinnamon 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, 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
| second grade class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat.  I knew that
| because he never went out for recess 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, and he didn't have
| a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing e***ment. I would
| buy Bobby Decker a coat!  I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood
| to it. It looked real warm, and 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.  " I replied shyly.
| "It's....for Bobby."
| The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the
| coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.
|
| That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and
| ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in
| her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it -- 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
| on his step, pounded his doorbell 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.
|
| 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 awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said
| they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
| I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.
|
|  ===============================
|
| He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find Christmas under a
| tree.
|
| --
| Donna in Idaho
| Reply to daawra3553 at yahoo dot com
|
|

 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Donna in Idah » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 14:28:19


I have no idea who wrote this story - it was sent to me by a friend and I
thought all of you would appreciate it as much as I did.
--
Donna in Idaho
Reply to daawra3553 at yahoo dot com


Quote:
> Thankyou Donna, your story reminded me of my "Ma" - she died when I was 6
> and I am now 60, nearly 61.  She was a very special person who always told
> the truth too.

> --
> Di Maloney
> Please remove 1 from email address to reply direct.


> | 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 world-famous 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, plain mad.
> | Now, put on your coat, and let's go."  "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked.
> | I hadn't even finished my second world-famous, cinnamon 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, 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
> | second grade class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat.  I knew that
> | because he never went out for recess 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, and he didn't have
> | a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing e***ment. I would
> | buy Bobby Decker a coat!  I settled on a red corduroy one that had a
> hood
> | to it. It looked real warm, and 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.  " I replied shyly.
> | "It's....for Bobby."
> | The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the
> | coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.
> |
> | That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and
> | ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in
> | her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it -- 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
> | on his step, pounded his doorbell 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.
> |
> | 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 awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said
> | they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his
> team.
> | I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.
> |
> |  ===============================
> |
> | He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find Christmas under a
> | tree.
> |
> | --
> | Donna in Idaho
> | Reply to daawra3553 at yahoo dot com
> |
> |

 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Donna in Idah » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 14:29:08


Polly,

Any chance of all your baby dolls having their picture taken before they
leave for their future homes?  I know I'd like to see a picture of them.
--
Donna in Idaho
Reply to daawra3553 at yahoo dot com


Quote:
> This whole week was spent  helping Santa.  There's enough previously loved
> baby dolls lining up in the sewing room to look like the chorus line at .
> . . well, no.  They don't look like a chorus line.  Some of my neighbors
> came through this afternoon and truly wanted to carry off a beautiful
> 'new' baby. They'll just have to go buy their own.  Cost of a buggy full
> of loved dolls at the thrift shop, $ 7.00; cost of 409 to make them clean
> as new, about $ 1.50; cost of dressing them in silk, ribbon and lace -
> neglible;  helping Santa:  Priceless.     Polly

 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Sharon Harpe » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 16:26:12


Thanks Donna, I too have been on Santa's team for quite a while.  There have
been a few presents under the Kmart Wishing Tree this year, plus one at a
manager's meeting I went to and I'm nagging all the staff and students at
school to hand something over too, which will go to our local church.

Not bragging just saying.  It's something I like to do to help out

--
Sharon from Melbourne Australia (Queen of Down Under)
http://www.FoundCollection.com/(takes awhile to load)
http://www.FoundCollection.com/(same as website but
quicker)


Quote:
>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 world-famous 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, plain mad.
> Now, put on your coat, and let's go."  "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked.
> I hadn't even finished my second world-famous, cinnamon 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, 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
> second grade class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat.  I knew that
> because he never went out for recess 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, and he didn't have
> a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing e***ment. I would
> buy Bobby Decker a coat!  I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood
> to it. It looked real warm, and 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.  " I replied shyly.
> "It's....for Bobby."
> The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the
> coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

> That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and
> ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in
> her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it -- 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
> on his step, pounded his doorbell 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.

> 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 awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said
> they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
> I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.

> ===============================

> He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find Christmas under a
> tree.

> --
> Donna in Idaho
> Reply to daawra3553 at yahoo dot com

 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by CATS » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 16:33:08


If you send me a picture of the dolls to post, I promise to
look for a picture of the clowns I used to make for
fundraising a few years ago.

--

Cheryl & the Cats in OZ
    o  o             o  o            o  o
(  > Y <  )   (  > Y <  )   (  > Y <  )
Enness         Boofhead       Donut
http://community.webshots.com/user/witchofthewest
catsatararatATyahooDOTcomDOTau


: This whole week was spent  helping Santa.  There's enough
previously loved
: baby dolls lining up in the sewing room to look like the
chorus line at . .
: . well, no.  They don't look like a chorus line.  Some of
my neighbors came
: through this afternoon and truly wanted to carry off a
beautiful 'new' baby.
: They'll just have to go buy their own.  Cost of a buggy
full of loved dolls
: at the thrift shop, $ 7.00; cost of 409 to make them clean
as new, about $
: 1.50; cost of dressing them in silk, ribbon and lace -
neglible;  helping
: Santa:  Priceless.     Polly
:
:
:

 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Patt » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 19:36:03


Thanks for this beautiful story, Donna.
Very tear-y here; but so heart-warming.
.


Quote:
>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 world-famous 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, plain mad.
>Now, put on your coat, and let's go."  "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked.
>I hadn't even finished my second world-famous, cinnamon 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, 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
>second grade class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat.  I knew that
>because he never went out for recess 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, and he didn't have
>a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing e***ment. I would
>buy Bobby Decker a coat!  I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood
>to it. It looked real warm, and 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.  " I replied shyly.
>"It's....for Bobby."
>The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the
>coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

>That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and
>ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in
>her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it -- 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
>on his step, pounded his doorbell 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.

>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 awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said
>they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
>I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.

> ===============================

>He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find Christmas under a
>tree.

--
Best Regards
pat on the hill
 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Patt » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 19:37:18


Ah, yes ...
Well done, Polly and all Santa's other helpers.

.


Quote:
>This whole week was spent  helping Santa.  There's enough previously loved
>baby dolls lining up in the sewing room to look like the chorus line at . .
>. well, no.  They don't look like a chorus line.  Some of my neighbors came
>through this afternoon and truly wanted to carry off a beautiful 'new' baby.
>They'll just have to go buy their own.  Cost of a buggy full of loved dolls
>at the thrift shop, $ 7.00; cost of 409 to make them clean as new, about $
>1.50; cost of dressing them in silk, ribbon and lace - neglible;  helping
>Santa:  Priceless.     Polly

--
Best Regards
pat on the hill
 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Polly Esthe » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 21:54:23


Absolutely, I agree, Sharon.  We are not bragging about getting to help
Santa.  No indeed.  Oh what fun it is to get to help the little ones have a
Merry Christmas.  I wouldn't miss the chance for anything.  Polly

"Sharon Harper"  wrote > Thanks Donna, I too have been on Santa's team for
quite a while.  There have

Quote:
> been a few presents under the Kmart Wishing Tree this year, plus one at a
> manager's meeting I went to and I'm nagging all the staff and students at
> school to hand something over too, which will go to our local church.

> Not bragging just saying.  It's something I like to do to help out

 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Polly Esthe » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 22:41:36


They couldn't wait for pictures, Donna, needed to be going on their way.
But, trust me, I violated every rule of good taste that popped into my head.
"Too much is never enough" was the spirit of embellishing.  Where one ruffle
would do nicely, I put three with lace and ribbon beading on top of that.
Since I remember well the inclination of little girls to 'mommy' their dolls
by constant dressing and undressing them, instead of sweet little buttons
and tiny snaps - I fastened them with velcro hook and loop pieces.  Last
night I stippled a crib quilt.  It surely was easy compared with putting
elastic on a doll wrist band where the wrist measures way less than two
inches finished.  Polly

"Donna in Idaho" > wrote

Quote:
> Any chance of all your baby dolls having their picture taken before they
> leave for their future homes?  I know I'd like to see a picture of them.

 
 
 

OT - Adventure with Grandma

Post by Nancy in N » Tue, 12 Dec 2006 23:11:04


On Sun, 10 Dec 2006 20:27:06 -0700, "Donna in Idaho"

Quote:

>"No Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it.

What a wonderful, heart-warming story. :)

This reminds me of last week's ER episode in which Dr.
Archie Morris explains to his daughter that there is,
indeed, a Santa Claus...that Santa Claus is the little bit
of magic that's left in the world.  

Nancy in NS
http://community.webshots.com/user/loves2quilt