This is what a country Christmas is all about...
"Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.
It was Christmas Eve. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible.
After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.
Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what.
Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high side boards on.
After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood - the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?"
"You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what?
Yeah," I said, "Why?"
"I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt."
That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand.
"What's in the little sack?" I asked.
"Shoes, they're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."
We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have been our concern.
We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?"
"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt, could we come in for a bit?"
Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.
"We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children - sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.
"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up."
I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.
I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us."
In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.
Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.
Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.
At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married and had moved away.
Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to say, May the Lord bless you; I know for certain that He will."
Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that, but on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand."
I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children.
For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life."
Thought for the day:
Thought for the day:
Turn on your sound and you can hear a little of some of the music I like to listen to while relaxing and sipping a glass of wine, while watching the tree slowly turn showing all the decorations.
Thought for the day:
As a Kiwi living in USA, I sure do enjoy the tradition of Thanksgiving. Not only all the delicious food, but a time to stop and really consider what we are thankful for. I am thankful for many, many things and will reflect upon them today as I go about fixing a traditional dinner for my honey and I.
Thought for the day:
We really appreciate the food on this cold day.
So many yummy seeds to choose from.
Just love this suet.
My toes are cold!
There was a fairly stiff breeze blowing, but I did manage to get a photo of the flags on the front of the building before the wind whipped them into a crumpled mass.
This bronze sculpture of a cowboy sits in front of the Prescott, Arizona manufacturing facility of Sturm Ruger. 
The inscription on the plaque at the base of the statue reads,In the vast reaches of the American West
the work ethic still exists.
The man who makes his living on horses
that are bound to buck, earns his pay.
A good hand is loyal to his outfit, meets a challenge,
and takes pride in an honest days work.
The factory is huge, this is just a very small area of the facility.
This gentleman very kindly allowed me to take his picture. As you can guess, our visit was just before Halloween and he was celebrating in his own way, by wearing this very stylish witch's hat *grin*
As we were guided around the factory by Jim Elliott, Plant manager, he explained how the system of manufacturing parts was undergoing a revamp. Formerly a particular part, say for instance, the barrel of a gun, starting out as a solid piece of metal, went to the first machine, where it was worked on, placed in a wire basket then sat around until it went on to the next machine. Now the whole way of manufacturing a specific part has been, and is still undergoing re-organization of the machines so they are all in lines. This means the barrel, which starts out as a solid piece of metal, goes to the first lathe/milling machine goes through the first process, then is passed to a worker on the next machine, and so on down the line, until the finished product comes off the end of the line. This is a very efficient use of floor space, and means there are no baskets of parts sitting around all over the facility for days, waiting to go to the next stage to be worked on.
This was the next to last place we visited. This is where every weapon which is now fully assembled, is put through it's paces. About five rounds are shot through every gun so as to find any possible problems in it's performance, and if one is discovered then there are baskets of new parts to be installed before the problem gun is once again tested. The final action before the weapon is sent on, is one more round is fired, the casing placed in a small envelope which is put with the gun, so the buyer of that particular weapon knows it has been thoroughly tested.
We arrived in Prescott Arizona, late in the day on Wednesday October 27th, to a sky tinted rosy by the setting sun. It was starting to cool off from the 70 degree day we had been enjoying while driving from Phoenix where we flew into and picked out, yes that is right, we had three SUV's to choose from at the vehicle rental agency. We chose a nice silver grey Jeep, which was fairly comfortable, considering it was a 4 wheel drive vehicle, also designed for off road driving.
I loved the beautiful blue sky which greeted us every day. during our five day stay.
After checking into our room at the Best Western Prescottonian, we decided to eat dinner at the on premises, Mexican restaurant, Casa Bonita. When we stepped inside the door, we were greeted with a profusion of gorgeous bright colors. The back of all the chairs had been hand carved and painted in a riot of color. I can imagine what a delight this would have been to a young child, knowing how much they love the brightness of primary colors.
This wall mural was on the wall right above the booth we sat at. 
The new Mike O'Callaghan-Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge Spans the Colorado river's Black canyon, with the Hoover dam with it's narrow winding road leading up to, across and over the other side just 1500 feet away.
What an amazing feat of engineering construction, and a beautiful work of art to boot.
Most arch bridges are cast elsewhere, but this one was built here, 900 feet above the river.
The cost of the project was $240 million, took five years to construct by about 1500 workers.
An absolutely fabulous sight.
To read about the rest of our day click HERE
