Seasoning Your Writing

No, I'm not talking about that kind of spice. I'm talking about the actual seasons.

And the holidays that go with them.

I'm a big fan of holidays, especially in books.

The book cover kinda gives it away doesn't it?

But it's not the whole story. I love them because I'm not the one trying to juggle everything while solving a mystery or embarking on a new romance.

Holiday themed books are a way to experience the best and worst of times without fearing the credit card bill after the new year.

We can relive memories, or create ones we wish we had enjoyed.

So next time you start writing a book, think of all those special times yet to come and sprinkle in a few.

And, when it's over a 100 degrees outside, Christmas in July might actually think it's cooler:D

Until next month..

The origins of the Nativity Scene

The first nativity scene was created at the church of Santa Maria Maggiore in 10th century Rome. The custom was soon popular at other churches, each one constructing ornate mangers with gold, silver, jewels and precious stones. Though popular among high society, such opulence was far removed from the original circumstances of Christ's birth, as well as being inaccessible to the poorer masses.

We owe the crèche to St. Francis of Assisi, who revised the gaudier displays of his time. In 1224, St. Francis of Assisi sought to remedy these problems by creating the first manger scene that was true to the Biblical account of Christ's birth. Called a crèche, the scene that St. Francis set up for the village of Greccio was made up of hay, carved figures and live animals, capturing for the uneducated people of the town more of the spirit and the story of Christ's birth than any splendid art treasure.

The popularity of St. Francis's crèche spread throughout the world. In Italy it is called a presepio; in Germany, a Krippe. It is a naciemiento in Spain and Latin America, a jeslicky in the Czech Republic, a pesebre in Brazil, and a portal in Costa Rica.

Merry Christmas.

Paid Forward

Last summer, I found a wallet in the street. Being a Christian and I’d like to think, a very nice person, I tracked down the owner through a business card in his wallet and gave it back to him because that’s what we do. The early twenty-something was very grateful and tried to pay me. I didn’t accept. I figured he needed the eleven dollars in his wallet more than I did. I simply requested he pay it forward sometime and that in turn, I would have it paid forward for me.

Fast forward to December 26th. Yep, you got it. The day after Christmas sales and the day my kids wanted to trade in all their gift cards and cash because they just didn’t get enough games for their Nintendos. My ten-year-old son carries his own wallet. Hey, I’m trying to teach responsibility. Well, you guessed it. He took it out in the toy section to count his loot and put it on a shelf when he picked up a toy.

When we got home—because my seven-year-old forgot her envelope in the rush to run out the door—my son asked where his wallet was. After a few heart-stopping moments, we jumped back in the car and raced back to Target. Along the way I said a prayer to God that the wallet would still be there--believe me, I knew the chances were slim on such a busy day—but I prayed anyway. I asked him to pray as well.

“No.” My son is having issues with his belief and somehow feels God hates him-especially now that his wallet is gone. “God hates me.”

“No He doesn’t, Honey. God has bigger things to worry about than picking on you.”

“Nope. He hates me.”

“Okay Lord, I need some help here. Really need some help.” I tried again. “God loves you. Sometimes he just has a unique way of showing it. There’s got to be a gift or message in this for you from Him.”

Mentally I’m trying to count how much money was in that wallet and knew it was going to cost me at least a hundred on top of what I’d already spent for Christmas, because I refused to let the lost wallet dash his Christmas spirit. Okay, I know there’s tough love and a responsibility factor, but there’s also being a parent and protecting our children from the harsh realities of life as long as we can. It’s a scary world out there and he’ll spend more time in it than in the dreamy state of childhood.

It turns out I didn’t need to worry. My prayers worked. Rushing up to the customer service counter while my kids scrounged around the toy section, I asked if a wallet had been found.

“A black child’s wallet with no ID?” The young lady asked?

“Yes. It’s got a few Target gift cards, a Borders card and some twenties inside.”

“Yes. Tiffany has it. Some man found it in the toy section and gave it to her.”

I almost cried. I’d like to hug the man who found the wallet and realized he held a child’s Christmas inside. It would have been so easy for him to pocket it and use it himself, except he understood the contents were more than just pieces of plastic and money.

He truly was a messenger, and my son learned that God does love him. So whoever my good Samaritan was. Thank you and God Bless You.

Happy Holidays!

Since this is my last post before the holidays, I wanted to extend my warmest wishes for a Merry Christmas, and my hope that Santa is good to you. :}

I have resolved this year to take some time during the hustle and bustle to gather calm around myself, to sit back and watch my loved ones that surround me, to memorize their faces and this one moment in time, to preserve it as a precious memory, because life is about change and nothing will ever be the same again as it is at this one moment.

It's not something I ever thought to do before, at least, not purposefully.

But I've realized that it's so very easy to take for granted those that surround you; the friends and family whose love and caring make life worth living.

Christmas can sometimes be peaceful or just plain bonkers. The little ones can get cranky from lack of sleep and all the excitement, the older ones just as cranky from last minute shopping, baking, and just plain trying to factor in Christmas when there's already not enough hours in the day to meet the demands of normal life. And you know what? This year I'm going to sit back and enjoy every crazy minute of it.

And thank God for this precious moment.

And for those of you who celebrate other faiths, I wish you the same indelible memory of your own peaceful or crazy, wonderful moment with your friends and family.

All My Very Best,
Kathryne

The Real Meaning of Christmas

The Real Meaning of Christmas by Susan Meier

There are 11 children in my family. Seven girls. Four boys. All of my sisters are married, three of my brothers are married, and several of my nieces and nephews are married and have children. There are 63 people in my "immediate" family.

We have a Christmas tradition in our family of a cookie exchange. The deal is that you state your intention to be part of the exchange then Tammy (my youngest sister) sends us an email letting us know how many people are participating. This year there are 12. That means each of us will pick a type of cookie and make 12 dozen of that one kind. (I'm the peanut butter blossom girl.) Then December 20, we bring all our cookies to my mom's and 'exchange' them for one dozen of everybody else's.

Everybody involved ends up with 12 dozen different kinds of cookies for company but everybody also only has to bake one kind.

It's probably my favorite family tradition. And we've got some whoppers.

With 63 people in the immediate family, we have enough people (especially kids) to have our own personal Easter egg hunt. We have a sort of unofficial competition to see who can get my mother the best gift for her birthday. Every Wednesday morning in the summer, one of us hosts "breakfast" for the family members lucky enough not to have a real job -- or who have summers off because of working for a school district. My sister Laura is usually the winner for favorite breakfast. She makes waffles with whipped cream and fresh strawberries.

In October the kids dress up and take part in a Halloween parade. This year they were the Flintstones, complete with PVC pipe Flintmobile. In a way, they were their own little float.

Every Friday after Thanksgiving, rather than battle shoppers, my mother hosts the cookie painting party for her grandkids. She bakes sugar cookies and makes colorful icing and the kids paint the cookies with the icing. They go on a Christmas tree in the family room with bubble gum and candy canes.

There are enough of us that if every 'family' within the family chips in $50 we can buy my mother a major appliance for Christmas.

In a lot of ways we sound like a small town, but really we're just family. We like to be entertained -- maybe too much -- and we enjoy each other's company. We were taught to share, to be generous, to include everybody in every baseball game, football game and/or card game we played and those lessons carried over into adulthood.

I sometimes look at my family and our traditions and wonder. . . Are we a tad crazy? A little too in love with entertainment and stimulation. . .Or is this what life’s really all about? Sharing your toys, including everybody in the game, and baking enough cookies that everybody gets a dozen.

Merry Christmas. This year, share your toys, include everybody in the game and bake an extra dozen cookie to give to someone in your town, your church, or at your office, who might not get a cookie this year.

Susan Meier


Susan Meier
HER BABY'S FIRST CHRISTMAS, Harlequin Romance, 12/08 AVAILABLE NOW ON AMAZON
MAID IN MONTANA, Harlequin Romance, 6/09
THE SWEETEST CHRISTMAS WISH, Harlequin Romance 12/09