I went to bed last night wondering how much snow would fall, and when dawn arrived, had just poured a first cup of coffee. Then the phone rang out a call from daughter Bev, at "Life of Grits". Hearing her "Hi Mom" closed the miles from Pennsylvania, to this snowcapped Colorado town.

We talked of many things, including gift giving at Christmas time, and agreed we don't need brown paper packages from far off places, to know that we are loved. I'll take hearing my children's voices over anything Santa could bring. When I heard Bev's this morning, I hurriedly poured a second coffe cup, for one wouldn't last through our conversation.

For some unhurried time, we relived things about our Christmases. This one I hope to help make more about family simply caring, and being together having a wonderful time. I am always amazed how quickly it seems we use up most of an hour talking. Then Bev needed to try to give her cat a haircut, (She's brave like that) and I have a few things to do, getting ready for our family clan.

I had just set the phone down, and peered outside to see how much snow fell, when I spotted a son's old van, and heard the raking sound of his clearing sidewalks for me. The house is back from the street, so it takes some shoveling to clear them, another example of what love is, instead of material things.

I consider myself wealthy in a way that has nothing to do with money. When my son finished clearing the snow, he headed to other parts of the yard, and was glad to report that no tracks of foxes, or other animals that size were anywhere around. Another gift that can't be measured in dollar bills and coins. We've resisted some kind of critter's efforts to homestead here, to the point that big heavy four by four rafter boards, and chunky garden bricks make edges around the house appear we're expecting another Civil War Fort Sumter.

When my son finished clearing the walks, and did his anti-fox check, we talked for a while, and then each of us went on with our separate lives. He's a little down hearted because some mix up at the Social Security office is delaying his much needed first disability check. I had heard that a relative might be surprising him with an unexpected gift, and was tempted to tell him, but decided that the gift will mean more because it is unexpected. (I am very good at keeping secrets).

Haven't talked with other relatives just lately, but since this post is so miscellaneous, would like you to know that my friend from Korea, who ended up in America, after being abandoned in her homeland, and became a nurse, then almost drowned in alcohol, is doing outstandingly well. For a while after completing a great rehab program, she worked for terribly low wages in a nursing uniform shop, until someone took a chance, and hired her as the nurse she is. She's a good one. I know, because I used to work with her. Just recently she got a promotion. Ever since she came home from the rehab, she's done nothing but make me prouder and prouder of her. If that's not a gigantic gift, I can't imagine what is.

This time last year my son, the one who cleared my walk ways a little earlier here, got very ill at Christmas time, so sick that when the hospital examined him, not one, but three surgeons descended, one at a time in ER, trying to not show how serious it was, saying things that non medical people wouldn't realize, is how they work at not upsetting worried families. Seven days later they removed various tubes and equipment that looked like it had invaded him, and I prayed words and tears of gratitude, that God let me keep this son. I am so grateful, I can't find words to describe what it was like.

I do not know how his son will fare, but since he's been home, he's stayed out of trouble. I do know his father is doing everything he can to steer him in the right directions. If it means humbling himself enough to get food from various charities, I would be the first to volunteer to stand in line for them.

I was born in one horrible depression. I remember much of it, and how little we had, and I can see the one we have will hang around over America, at least awhile, but I will not roll in the negative daily news of it.

Sometimes it's a little scary that my house keeps losing value, and on job interviews I've done lately, though they can't and don't say it, I get the impression they prefer younger and stronger nurses, and maybe that's more of a blessing, than a problem.

For years I've wanted to write a book I've carried around in my head, but I come home from work either worn out, or stressed to the limit, and that's why I know last summer's knee injury is more of a serendipity than a sad accident.

As long as it worked like it had, I didn't look at living any differently. When this holiday time ends, I will be checking other kinds of work. This time off I've had shows me I haven't been living, but only existing, and life is too sacred and short, to settle for only that.

People who play life close to the chest would have a scary card game of this. But if you knew me, you'd understand that taking a chance is less risky to me, and much more interesting, than not finding out if I can. I figure we do have choices, even though we don't seem to.

When the sun comes up in the morning, I can embrace the day, or dread it. A new friend I've found, Mary, at Random Thoughts, is teaching me about giving thanks each morning, instead of presenting our Lord with my wish list. It's kind of like this: We could get hit by a run away eighteen wheeler, or we might win a lottery game. I understand the odds for both are about the same. But being like God wants us is much more of a sure thing, so why not dwell on having a thankful attitude, and what we'd rather have.

In the meantime we have a nearby Christmas. It is time to set other things down, and appreciate the One who holds the world in His hands. I think I'll wrap those presents now, and make the house real pretty, for whoever shows up to celebrate His day.