Carol's Corner

Christmas and gift giving go hand in hand for most people. At times it feels like a contest to see what is under the tree with your name on it. Maybe you love giving gifts and want to pick just the right gift for someone. At other times attitudes can drift from the real meaning of Christmas.

I decided to share this story I wrote in 2010 which ended up being published in The Magic of Christmas Chicken Soup for the Soul book that year. It is a story of attitude and lessons learned about gift giving and Christmas. Hope you enjoy.

“Don’t get me anything for Christmas!” my husband’s voice broke into my thoughts which were full of all the Christmas preparations I planned to complete in the next few weeks.
I looked at him and nodded, “You say that every year.”
“This year I’m serious. There won’t be anything for you under the tree or in your stocking, at least not from me. So don’t get me any gifts either. Put the extra money to more things for the kids.” he repeated.
I didn’t bother replying. We went through this every year. Most years I’d listen and get him a few little gifts so the children could enjoy watching him empty his stocking. Every year he’d have a gift under the tree for me and my stocking would have lots of surprises, sometimes costly surprises in it. Every year I wished I hadn’t listened to his instructions. This year I wouldn’t.
Days passed in a whirlwind of activities like baking, shopping, decorating and sending out Christmas cards and letters. Frequently I heard my husband’s repeated message of nothing under the tree for me. Each time I would look deeply into his eyes for the teasing glint that was sure to be there, yet he seemed more serious.
Finally, the gifts were all wrapped and under the tree, the items for stockings well hidden from prying eyes and the children’s Christmas programs were done. Christmas Eve had arrived. I tucked the children in. Sleep would be delayed in claiming them due to their excitement so I curled up on the couch and settled in for a long wait.
” You know there’s no gift under the tree for you, right?” my husband asked.
” Yup! I checked.”
” Don’t have anything for your stocking either. So don’t be disappointed. I warned you. You listened and didn’t get me anything either – right? ” he said.
I looked at him and smiled. I’d wait and see. Maybe this year he listened to his own rules and I’d be one up on him. Then I tried to shake those thoughts right out of my head. Since when had giving gifts become such a competition. That shouldn’t be what Christmas was all about.
I felt like I had barely laid my head on the pillow when I heard the children’s voices attempting to break into my sleep fogged brain. ” Get up. It’s Christmas! Get up!”
They pulled at our arms urging us to hurry. They needed to see what Santa had put in their stockings. I pulled on my robe and followed them to the living room where I watched them eagerly empty all the treasures from the stockings. I loved to see their smiling faces. Then I turned to watch Brian empty his stocking. He leaned over and whispered for my ears alone, “I wasn’t supposed to get anything.”
I pulled a few chocolate candies and an orange from my stocking. He had been serious. There was no gift under the tree and none in my stocking. I tried to hide the disappointment that suddenly surfaced.
Later that morning we headed the few blocks to my parent’s house to celebrate with the rest of the family. As we entered their house the fragrant aroma of roasting turkey and pies filled our nostrils. Christmas dinner always provided a bountiful supply of scrumptious food. I quickly pitched in to help load the table with its bounty while the children ran off to play with their cousins.
Following the meal the children clamoured for present exchange but first all of us women took on the mundane chore of kitchen cleanup while the men headed out to check the trucks and warehouse. With impeccable timing they returned just as we completed the last of the dishes and I looked forward to a relaxing afternoon of visiting. Brian looked at me and said, “Before presents why don’t you take some of these leftovers to our fridge and bring back a couple games for later.”
“Sounds good to me but why don’t you go?” I replied.
“Nope I’ll stay here. You go. Hurry back.” he countered.
I looked around but no one took my side. Frustration began building inside me when I asked him once more to do the errand and he again refused. The realization that I could not win this argument sunk in like a rock into the pit of my stomach and rather than creating an unpleasant scene, I grabbed my coat and jammed my arms into it. I pulled on my boots, grabbed some containers of leftovers from my mom and headed out the door, barely refraining from slamming it behind me. I mumbled and grumbled to myself all the way home and by the time I arrived in my own kitchen the frustration had turned to full blown anger.
I yanked open the refrigerator door, shoved in the containers and slammed the door shut. I wheeled around, almost colliding with a huge dishwasher standing in the middle of the kitchen floor, as I stomped from the room to find the games. I stopped suddenly and turned around.
“A dishwasher! I don’t have a dishwasher!” I yelled into the empty room. My anger drained out as tears began to run down my face. I ran my hands over the brand new appliance. My present didn’t fit under the tree or in my stocking. I had been sent home to find it. Checking the warehouse had been an excuse to sneak in the dishwasher. I wiped my tears before heading back into the cold. My anger dissipated only to be replaced by shame at my attitude. I slowly walked back into my folk’s house and sheepishly faced my family. Their faces were wreathed in smiles as they waited expectantly for my reactions.
I directed my comments to my husband, “You didn’t keep your word. You got me a present!”
“What present?” he said as he tried to keep a straight face but the twinkle in his eyes betrayed the losing battle he fought.
“The dishwasher – in our kitchen!” I replied.
Laughter filled the room while everyone began talking at once. The laughter drove the last vestiges of frustration, anger and shame from me. That Christmas I learned a lesson or two. First that things aren’t always as they seem. Secondly, frustration and anger should never have first place in my life at anytime but especially at Christmas.

What gift giving attitude story can you tell about yourself or someone else?

December 1, 2016 and the countdown to Christmas has begun. Do you look forward, with eager anticipation, to celebrating Christmas or do you dread the upcoming event? For many this time of year accentuates the loneliness of a first Christmas without a loved one – it will for me this year since my father passed away in July. Others bemoan the fact they cannot afford the biggest and best gift on their children’s wish list or that their gift budget runs out before the number of people they would like to remember with some token. There are folks who hate the commercialization of the season or the political correct climate present in our country. In the frustration of what should not happen we forget the positives, do not focus on the reason for the season.

I have found myself guilty over the years of losing focus on the coming of the Messiah – baby Jesus, born in the manger. At times I worry about having the right gift for each person on my list or wanting to decorate the house in the latest Christmas trends. I have had years when celebrating has seemed more than I could imagine with the loss of someone special, illnesses or hurts of others that weighed on my heart.

My budget will always be smaller than the gifts I might like to give yet finding a creative way to remember those on my list can be a lot of fun. My house is decorated, to a point, but not necessarily in the latest trends since I have eclectic tastes and I have finally given myself permission to enjoy the mix. I have learned that tears happen, even when the world around says it should be a happy time and I empathize more with others who are lonely and hurting. Throughout the years I am grateful when I have returned my focus to the Nativity, to the love of God shown in such a tangible way.

This December I have some celebrations, plans with the grandchildren to make home made chocolates and gifts to plan, buy and wrap. I also plan to share some Christmas stories on this blog to help us countdown to Christmas, reflect on the reason for the season and maybe bring a smile to brighten your day.

What happens in your countdown to Christmas? How do you keep the focus on the reason for the season?

In October of this year I signed up for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) with the intent to succeed at writing 50,000 words of a fiction story (way outside my comfort zone) to help me establish a habit of writing daily. I prepared by doing some research, making an outline, developing several characters that would be significant in the story. On November 1 I opened a new document on the computer and found the words did not flow from my mind to the page.

As I shared with my husband, Brian, my plans and my roadblock he replied with words I did not expect. “So you are going to start one more story and put it on the shelf too, like you did the one you began at the beginning of the year.

Not the encouragement I expected but it made me think.
I left the room I cried and thought. What did I dream of accomplishing with the writing, my speaking, storytelling? What goals had I set or had I simply made excuses and put things on the shelf? Hard questions but good ones to consider. I reflected and journaled and realized that some of my hopes and dreams had been filed in a binder on the bookshelf to be considered later. Other things, like stories begun and not finished sat in files on the computer until I got back to them. Why? Life happened at times meaning the timing was not right. But for other things I let fear take hold. It became easier to shelve the possibilities and become busy with other tasks.

As I sat and contemplated that day, I realized how many times I put things off, set them on the shelf, often with the best intentions to go back and finish or pick up a dream a begin again.

The other remark my husband added that day, “You can’t edit words if you don’t write something to begin with.”
How true. I need to write the story, no matter how disjointed, no matter how distracted I become before I can work at editing it until it is readable by others. In the same way, people can not ask me to come and speak, present workshops or tell stories if I do not do the work to let them know I am available.

It is time for me to look at the projects I have shelved and decide which fit with my dreams and goals. Then I need to take them down and use the resources, do the work and see where it leads.

Have you ever set something on the shelf, either figuratively or literally, planning to come back to it shortly? How long has it stayed shelved? Are you ready to take it down and reexamine it. Maybe the time to do it is now.

Preacher and author Vance Havner wrote,

“The vision must be followed by the venture. It is not enough to stare up the steps – we must step up the stairs.”

I have begun the journey up the stairs – how about you?

1/15079019_10153906809372353_7060634450848151738_n-1.jpg”>
Photo courtesy of Shannon Vinter District 42 Toastmaster

I had the pleasure of presenting an educational session at the District 42 Toastmasters fall conference in Regina, SK. on November 12, 2016. The beautiful setting of an old, regal looking hotel ball room, complete with chandeliers, gold and white walls and sunlight streaming in the window gave an elegant backdrop to a room full of over forty toastmasters. The focus of the session included why and how to use the power of stories to make any message more memorable.

Often we want to relegate a good story to the entertainment only file and yet a personal story will help us remember the points, the message, or the challenge given by the presenter. Personal story is powerful. It takes theoretical knowledge and data and turns it into practical because someone has experienced it. Patricia Hooper, the person introducing me at this session, summed it up well afterwards when she mentioned how one personal story had impacted her to finally use all the wellness information she knew and take up a challenge to be a healthier person. We all have stories that can encourage others, challenge them, inform them and motivate them to use information they know or we are giving them in a presentation. When that happens, the message has become memorable.

What story has impacted you and helped you move from nodding your head in agreement with a list of facts and figures and moved you to take action? What presenter stands out in your memory for the powerful presentation and how was story responsible for the impact?

What story do you have – and we all have stories to share – that can add to your message and impact others?
This morning I left the group with a challenge. Choose the topic or theme you usually speak about or want to speak about. Put your message into one sentence. This way you have the main point you want to convey and all the information, stories, powerpoint slides or handouts will support this point – no rabbit trails required. Then think of a story that illustrates your main point, write it out in 200 – 250 words and send it to me or get someone else to read it and edit for you. After that practice, practice, practice until it flows smoothly in the telling and into the presentation. Add others and repeat until you have a file of stories for your message.

Photo of a sketch by my granddaughter Arianna Tooke of herself in the little stool

A small footstool, built by my grandfather from pieces of lumber, store bought legs to screw on and covered by my mother, sat near the doorway of our home during my growing up years. My brother and sometimes his friend used to sit together, arms linked around each other and cheer on their hockey team playing on the small black and white television or just sit and visit. At other times, Billy pulled his stool up to the coffee table where a checkerboard waited. When we grew up the stool became simply a footstool until the grandchildren joined the family and claimed it as their own.

Years later, the stool lived in my home where my grandchildren’s imagination soared and the little stool, now recovered in yet another fabric, got turned upside down. The little ones sat in the space, hung on to the legs in front of them and raced away with vroom, vroom sounds. At other times they flew high in the air, at least in their imaginations, as the little stool became their airplane. Each one climbed in until one day they had grown too big to squish into the small space.

Imagination is defined as “the faculty or action of forming new ideas or images or concepts of external objects not present to the senses.” Synonyms for imagination include creative power, fancy, vision , interest and curiosity.

Creating or thinking of something where it does not actually exist. Stories take us into the world of imagination. My grandchildren used an ordinary little footstool to jump start their imaginations and explore who knows what via their pretend mode of transportation. They had fun and as adults we enjoyed this adventure vicariously, maybe even with a twinge of regret that we could not play pretend anymore.

At other times it might be a character – a stuffed animal, a toy, a doll, a book that allows children’s imaginations to soar beyond the limits of time and space of everyday life.

The stuffed critters at our house lounge on the bed or chair in our youngest daughter’s room. She is a young adult but loves to use her imagination to give these bears, owls and other characters voices, mischief and lots of hugs. It allows her to express what she might not otherwise be able to communicate with her learning disability and yet it made me wonder. . . .

When we get to be teens, young adults or older, more sensible members of society do we pack away our childhood treasures, toys and stuffed animals and in doing so also pack away our imaginations? After all we need to grow up, be responsible and learn many skills of survival in our fast paced world. Those are admirable and good but I think we need a little imagination so we can remember how to have fun. Maybe the toys and stuffies exist to refresh our minds of an earlier, more carefree time. Possibly they can come out to play as story starters, writing prompts or to spark other creative endeavors.

I encourage us to check if our imaginations have come out to play lately? What sparks your interest? What helps conjure memories of happy moments in your life or from watching your children or grandchildren as they play with ordinary objects like a little footstool but soar away to parts unknown to the adults in the room?

Unpack your imagination. Be creative. Enjoy the memories and have fun.

National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo happens in the month of November. The goal is to write 50,000 words of a story from November 1-30. No edits, no starting early on the word count just get the ideas and words down on paper or typed into your computer.

I posted in October how my grandson had challenged me to try writing a fiction story. I thought I could not but he insisted I try. My oldest daughter encouraged me to sign up for NaNoWriMo to begin this challenge while forming a habit of writing each day. I accepted both challenges.

Prior to November 1, I began to think of a story to write. Once the idea percolated in my brain I did some research about the early 1900’s in North West Territories Canada – now Saskatchewan. I planned some characters, took a drive in the country, read old family stories about the time period and jotted pages of notes while attending a pre NaNoWriMo workshop. I just needed November to arrive, sit at my computer and begin to put the research and ideas into words.

The time arrived to begin. I tried to begin. I deleted. I started over. Hit delete. The negative monkey voice in my head kept jeering at me, “You don’t write fiction. You don’t know what to do. Why bother?”

The running dialogue had me running from my desk. My husband challenged me to try. After all editing can happen later only if you actually have some words, ideas and story to edit. The mini meltdown complete, more or less, I began to rethink my strategy. I typed and left the words there. I added more words and left them in place as well. Finally, that evening I went to the local kickoff for the month long writing event. The proverbial light bulb moment happened. I understood what writers meant when they wrote scenes of their story.

I made a list of scenes I knew must be part of the whole story. The task, broken into small steps, made the project feel like more of a possibility. November 30 will tell the tale of success at writing 50,000 words or not but I know accepting the challenge has already been worth it because I overcame some fear, survived a mini meltdown on day one and added a new writing lesson to my education.

What ah ha moment have you had recently? How will it help you move forward in whatever challenge you are presently tackling?

“If you don’t recount your family history it will be lost. Honor your own stories and tell them too. The tales may not seem very important but they are what binds families and makes each of us who we are” Madeleine L’Engle

This quote by Madeleine L’Engle really speaks to me. It reinforces messages my children have been giving me over the last few years. I am a storyteller. I share family stories with my children and grandchildren. Some of them I have written down, but many are still unrecorded. They remind me to write them down while I am able to remember, to check with others who are still living and not to lose them. Even what might seem insignificant to me, because it simply was the way we lived, is new and interesting to others in the family.

I believe it is important to share these stories and lessons learned from them. What has happened to the generations before us helped shape them into the adults they became and in turn shaped me into who I am today. I am part of a larger picture and yet I am still a unique individual who must choose my attitude towards the circumstances in my life.

Things happen in my life and my family’s lives over which I have no control. I can only choose what my actions and reactions are during those events. Some are exciting, others are mundane, ordinary life happenings and then there are those tough times in life. I have used some of the stories of my life as illustations, in speeches, messages at camp or ladies events and in writing.

What am I planning to do as I move forward after 31 blog posts on the topic of storytelling? What challenges will I take on? I do plan to continue being a storyteller, accepting challenges to move out of my comfort zone of oral storytelling and try more writing the stories including fiction. I hope to have more opportunities to tell stories as part of presentations and encourage others on the importance of storytelling to impact audiences no matter what type of presentation you are doing. I would love to teach workshops on how to tell a story well, what type of story to include in various types of presentations. I will continue to add to this blog which I began for this challenge. It might include more stories or other random posts from my storytelling, speaking and writing. Above all I will try and preserve family stories including my own.

What storytelling challenge are you willing to take on? How will you preserve your own family story? I hope you have gleaned a few things from these 31 days of storytelling blog posts and will go and have fun implementing the art of storytelling in your life.

“No one can tell your story, so tell it yourself. No one can write your story, so write it yourself.” Unknown

Sometimes we may need a prompt to get a member of our family to tell a story. Photos, especially older photos are a great starting point. It identifies the people or places in the photo but there must be a story behind the picture. What was the occasion of the photo? What year? What location? What memories does it bring back to the people looking at the photo? All these make good family story starter prompts.

Family memorabilia such as old letters, journals, china, ornaments, and personal items also have stories attached to them. I have a number of pieces in a display cabinet that have family stories that go with them. One of my challenges is to photograph them, write the story and put the two together. Then my children, grandchildren and any future generations will know why this piece has been kept. Maybe someone will appreciate it more because of the story attached to it.

On my husband’s side of the family there are old letters going back to the early 1900’s, old wills, photos, even a pair of kid leather gloves his great grandmother wore on her wedding day. Oh but she had tiny hands. Each piece sparks a story for older family members and I have sat listening to them for hours, jotting notes, taking pictures and imagining life on the prairies before all our modern conveniences.

My mom, as a young woman, traveled for a year and told of some of her adventures. For three months she lived and worked in Chicago at the Kenner Hospital right by Lakeshore Drive. She told about the hospital being in an old mansion and having a concrete fence surrounding it. She had no camera and only a few photos of that year that others had taken and given her a copy. My curiosity took hold. Could I find pictures of that old hospital/ mansion. I did. This picture shows the concrete fence and part of the front of the old mansion renovated into a small hospital. It intrigued me to add to family history but also it sparked possibilities of fictionalized stories with more accurate settings due to the photos.

I love looking at old black and white photos, especially of family members. But these old photos also give a chance to research an era. What style of clothing did the family wear? This photo of my grandparents and their children in the mid 1930’s shows the car they drove as well. Other photos I have gave me a glimpse into housing, animals they owned and even some school photos.

This photo, taken only 15 years ago, reminds me of an era which has almost past on the Canadian prairies. No longer does every small town have a grain elevator like this, often multiple elevators. They used to dot the prairie landscape, a visible marker of an upcoming town as you drove down the highway. Now most have been torn down and replaced with new central cement grain storage units. This photo from my husband’s home town gives me a visual for family stories, both oral and written, as well as research into what they really looked like if I chose to write it into a fiction story.

Yes family stories can have prompts from photos or tangible reminders of the past that have been kept by some family member. But these things can also be great research tools to take the story into writing format. Have some fun. Take a trip down memory lane with family members.

What prompts do you like to use for family stories? What do you do with memorabilia and photos to incorporate them into your storytelling?

” The more ways we have to connect, the more many of us seem desperate to unplug.” Pico Jeyer

My husband, youngest daughter and I have taken VIA rail from Saskatoon to Toronto and back. Going through the winter wonderland of the Canadian Shield in Northern Ontario can be breathtaking. Snow laden evergreens bending low under the weight the burden, trees appearing to grow right out of the rocks, ice and snow covered lakes and an occasional settlement or small community as a change to the scenery. One thing we noticed on this journey along the rails through the wilderness is the lack of Wifi connection. Young people on the train watched DVD’s in their electronic devices for the first day but after that even they were willing to unplug and connect face to face.

We loved to attempt the walk from our car to the observation car, sometimes an easy, straight line, wander from one place to the other but occasionally as the train picked up speed on a straighter stretch the cars momentum flung you from side to side if you were not hanging on. We loved every bit of the adventure but one thing we truly enjoyed happened because people, including us, could not be plugged into our electronic gadgets. Texts, emails and phone calls just could not happen. It forced people to do some old fashioned, face to face visiting.

My husband chatting with someone we met in the observation car while looking above the rest of the train cars at the passing scenery and other trains we happened to pass. Usually we had to pull on to a siding and let the freight trains rush past us. We had time to enjoy the trip. We had the opportunity to meet people of all ages and from around the world.

I loved to hear stories from New Zealand and about the ladies travels to other parts of the world. We sat with a young university student from London, England who had just finished an exchange semester at the University in London, Ontario. He shared about home and the similarities or differences between studies in the two Londons.

Where else might you meet a young couple and hear the story of their courtship while he was stationed on a submarine or meet a lady from PEI who traveled every year on the train to Alberta. She gave us all kinds of stories from home and ways to make train travel more fun.

Yes by trying this new adventure of train travel through areas with no Wifi I learned that when people unplug from electronics they actually connect more with each other and stories fly between them helping pass the hours.

How do you unplug and connect with others? Heard any good stories lately?

“Write your own stories before the waves of time wash them away.” 2014 Silverthreading.com

When I began writing “Amee’s Story” I struggled with the thought of being able to put the story on paper. I began by organizing the information I had. I started to write. I deleted the words and began again. This happened more times than I can remember. I knew I was stuck. It had been too many years since high school and university English classes. A friend told me about a writing conference in Saskatoon and urged me to attend. My comfort zone did not include walking into a room full of writers but I went. Great advice from a friend. I met people who represented many stages of a writing journey. I listened to encouraging workshops. Most importantly I heard about a local writing group, one of many in the city, that welcomed new members. I took the next uncomfortable step and went to their next meeting.

His Imprint Christian Writers included published authors, new authors and a few in between those two ends of the spectrum. When I finally, after a few months of attending and listening, decided to read the beginning of my memoir I asked for their comments. I received invaluable advice.

Bonnie Grove asked me, “Who are you writing this for? If it is for your family and friends just keep on with what you are writing. But if you want it to go beyond then cut this and this. Start with this and weave the other things in if you think they are necessary.”

I tried her suggestion. What did I have to lose. I could always just go back to the way I had it. Computers and saving the document allow for this with no problem. I found her way to help get me unstuck and grab the audience attention right off the bat.

What resources have I found for writing? There are so many. A writer’s group is a great resource, if there is one close to where you live. In my city of Saskatoon there are a number of writers groups. His Imprint is no longer around but I am now part of Saskatoon Writers Club.

I am also part of a writers group called Inscribe Christian Writers Fellowship which has members across Canada. We connect through a Listserv, on line, annual conference, quarterly magazine and chatting on line with each other. You can ask a question and get multiple answers. http://www.inscribe.org

A simple Google search will bring up many writer helps. Some you might want to use on occasion and others you may want to subscribe to their newsletter for helps, tips, contest ideas and other information to show up in your in box.

All the writer helps I have used and search out have a few things to remind all writers of. Key to writing is to write and write and write some more. You might only want to preserve family stories but you still need to write them while you can, while there are people to ask questions of and photos that people can identify the time, place or people.

Once you have something written it is time to edit. The definition of edit is to prepare for publication by correcting, condensing or otherwise making changes. However, I suggest that even if the stories are only for your family you want to edit for ease of reading and to make sure your time line and facts are correct. If you want to publish your stories or book, more extensive edits and critiques will be necessary and helpful. A critique by definition is a detailed analysis and assessment of your writing. I know when I wrote Amee’ Story I wanted it well edited so that spelling, grammar, punctuation, or word choices did not distract from the story.

I found this fun way to end this post – 10 things for a writer to do – yes simply write.

What are you writing? Is it for family or for publication? Are you part of a writers group? What resources do you use. Happy writing of your stories.