Category: Friends and Family

Several years ago I vowed to keep in touch with friends. When I thought of someone I would reach out within 24 hours. Technology makes it easier than ever before. We can make phone calls, send an email, craft a text message, or even use direct messaging on social media platforms. There is no excuse for not staying in touch with people.

Sometimes, though, people whom you respect are not close friends.  Mary Ann told me she read that most people have five truly close friends and about 150 acquaintances. At the time I thought, “I don’t have that many.” I resolved this year to add one friend to my repertoire of five.  In our senior years, developing friendships is even more difficult than when we were younger – and it was hard enough “back then.”

All that to say, sometimes there are people in your life that slip through your fingers. One of my acquaintances with whom I sometimes have lunch has been on my mind a lot of late. Each day I thought I would reach out to her by some means other than email as she had not responded to my messages for some time.  Still, I didn’t stop and take the time.  Then a few days ago, another friend sent me a text message with a link to an obituary.  Her husband had passed away unexpectedly a week before.

Immediately I picked up the phone and called.  She answered by saying, “Hello, Cynthia.” I expressed my condolences and offered to call the next week to schedule a time we could get together. I attended her husband’s (Don’s) funeral two days later.

Funerals are designed to be times to remember and honor the person who passed. They are for meeting with the family for a short moment in time, lending support and caring. Don’s funeral was well attended. Many of the people there were men and women with whom I had worked for years, all coming together in a common thread.  The service was full of remembrances and somewhat traditional.

Honestly, I cannot remember attending a traditional funeral for quite some time. Most of the services I have attended were more in the category of “Celebration of Life” opposed to a funeral with scripture and hymns. Yet, Don and his wife, my friend, are devout Christians, thus a fitting tribute to his life.

We are now at the age that we have begun to lose family members and friends. Life on earth is not eternal. These occurrences remind us to live each day fully, to love deeply, to be peaceful, and to shine light on whatever we are doing.

As I reflect on my life and those of my family, friends and acquaintances, I am reminded of the importance of connection …. Before it is too late. I hope to be remembered as a person who cared about others, who lifted them up, who spread happiness as often as possible.  How would you like to be remembered?

I wish for you, dear readers, Peace, Love, and Light.

Mary Ann

My father grew up in Benton, a little town in Northeastern Pennsylvania.  That little town produced some very exceptional individuals who changed the world.  One was my uncle, Samuel B. McHenry.  He was an inventor with 43 patents that included brooms and brushes that paid the bills, but he also patented several alternative energy inventions like a wave machine and using stream currents to generate electricity – a man ahead of his time. At one point in his career, he got in trouble with a society lady in Chicago.  My Great-Grandfather, his brother Abram, had to go get him and bring him home to Benton.  He was “madly” in love with a young woman he never met – there is a thin line between genius and insanity.  

I included a photo of his memorial at the cemetery where he is buried.  It was a representation of a craftsmen’s chest where tools were kept with the word Inventor engraved on it.  I always thought it was a treasure chest.  On top of the block of granite is a gizmo that Samuel invented called an Astronomical Demonstrating Device.  According to my father the top sphere represented the sun, and the bottom sphere was the Earth.  The device rested on a figure-eight base that had the months of the year engraved.  As the earth revolved around the sun, the device would move settling on the current month of the year.   Every time I visited the cemetery, the earth sphere was in the correct month of the year – almost like magic.  Apparently, the tilt of the Earth as it moved through space initiated the movement of the device to the correct month. 

The second person was Dr. Frank Laubach.  He was a missionary and travelled the world using the Bible to teach reading.  The premise was that “each one, teach one.”  I would teach you to read then you would teach someone else to read and so on.   His work was Nobel Prize worthy.  However, he was honored in 1984 with a stamp commemoration. The Laubach Literacy Program and the Laubach Method, developed with his son, Dr. Robert Laubach, is still helping illiterate people learn to read. Today, the programs have merged with ProLiteracy Worldwide and have touched people in 103 countries.  

 When I was little, my grandmother took me to the Laubach house in Benton to meet Dr. Laubach when he was home from his travels.  It was a rare moment.  I remember seeing him from afar as I was too shy to greet him.  I had no idea who he was.  He seemed to glow. Maybe his gentle soul was shining through.  I never forgot that encounter. 

Finally, the third person was Winton Laubach.  He was a childhood friend of my father’s.  Winston was legally blind and had to count the streetlights to find his way home after a day of play.  He studied math at Penn State and Columbia University and later taught the subject at Penn State and the Colorado School of Mines.  His book A Mathematical Medley illustrates his love for numbers. 

I once asked my father how a small town in the mountains of Pennsylvania could produce such noteworthy individuals.  He said that they were all trying to get out!  I am not sure that is true.  However, it was a close-knit community where everyone knew everyone.  When you went out to play, wherever you were at lunch time, you had lunch there. The community collectively raised all the children.  Their grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins all lived in the same little town.  These extended families always supported the children, and they knew they were supported.  They all had long childhoods which allowed their imaginations to grow.  

The world is so different today with families far flung across the country and more recently around the world.  Families must work hard to develop such communities of the past.  I am thankful that my family roots run deep in this little community of Benton.  It has helped to create the person I have become.  America should have more small towns like Benton to help shape the future of the world in a positive way.

Drew, one of the ladies in my book club frequently mentions her father, Van, who also loves to read. Occasionally, we select a book to read based on his recommendation. As with our members, Van enjoys reading from multiple genres. At one meeting we suggested Van may like to visit – or even join – our book club discussion.

What a delight it was this month when Drew and Van walked into our Barnes and Noble coffee shop a few minutes before we began. Van was tall, moved with precision, and sported the kindest expression on his face when I approached them. I couldn’t help myself.  I told him Drew had talked fondly of him and asked if I could hug him. He graciously allowed me to gently embrace him.

We ordered coffee drinks. They selected seating in the corner where it might be a little quieter. At 95, Van has lost some of his ability to hear well. As soon as everyone was seated, Van jumped in to begin discussing Junie, our January selection. He mentioned how much he enjoyed the book. He was impressed that the author, Erin Crosby Eckstine was able to write her first novel with such aplomb. Van commented on a hopeful ending to the story for one of the primary characters, Caleb.

I listened with awe as Van recalled characters’ names, authors and titles of additional books he had read. His memory and recall were sharp and his diction clear. He told us a little about being in Alabama when even the military base was segregated (relating to the story line of our book discussion.) Van was a valued participant in our discussion.

He asked if we were looking for additional members and we responded affirmatively. We invited him to return any time; even to join if he would enjoy conversing with this female-dominated club.

Spending this short time with Van, I am reminded of the value of including our elders. Here in the United States of America we fail to honor our senior citizens. With age one gains wisdom along with experience. There is much to learn and appreciate from others, especially from those who have walked the path before us.

At the same time, we help our older citizens live life more fully. Getting older can be emotionally and socially challenging. Our friends and family may pass before us, leaving us without someone with whom to share time.

Look for Vans in your life. The mutual benefit will bring happiness to you both.

Mary Ann

Happy New Year!  It is that time of year when you reflect on the past year and make resolutions for the coming year.  In my family, we started the year off with a dinner of Sauerkraut and Pork for good luck, and I have had this dish for my entire life every January 1^st.  This is pure Pennsylvania Dutch, and no matter where I lived the aroma of the kraut and pork fill the air to greet the new year.

The sauerkraut represented money, so you had to eat some to have a prosperous year.  I must say it was hard to swallow when I was little, but now I’ve grown accustomed to the sour taste and like it.  The pork is prepared because the pig only walks forward, never backwards.  I recently read that it is also because the pig roots forward where other animals dig backwards.  Good Jeopardy question with the rooting.   In the new year, you want to be moving forward, not stuck in the past year.  We always served mashed potatoes and applesauce with the meal.

When I lived in South Carolina, the natives could not imagine eating sauerkraut and pork.  They always made black-eyed peas and greens cooked in ham hocks on New Years.  Both were new foods to me when I first move there.  The black-eyed peas were pennies, and the greens represented cash.  It was for a prosperous year as well.  

One year, my Southern neighbor and I did a combo meal doing both the Pennsylvania way and Southern way together. All tasted good, and it was fun eating a North/South meal. We had double luck that year.

No matter where you live, there are always special foods and traditions that are unique to an area or a family.  Regardless of how you celebrate, it all kicks off the New Year with hope, good luck, and prosperity.  You can’t go wrong!   

Mary Ann

When I was a young girl, my job at Christmas was to decorate the top of our piano.  We first put down some fake snow that was quilt batting.   Then, we would add Santa’s sleigh and various Christmas characters to the snowy scene.  The featured stars of the display were four elves that were Annalee Dolls.

Annalee Dolls started in 1934 by Annalee Thorndike in Meredith, NH.  It was a cottage industry growing out of the Depression. During the 1950s and 1960s, the felt dolls with the charming hand-painted faces began to take off around the country.  With each decade the company grew bigger and bigger adding little characters for all the holidays in a variety of sizes. They ran limited editions and collecting fever hit the nation. Each year new characters are introduced, and suddenly, you just must have the Mardi Gras elf!

My mother began collecting the Annalee Dolls in the early 1960s. She would get them from a lovely gift shop in our hometown called The Studio Shop.  She slowly grew her collection and decorated for each holiday with them. The catalogs would come, and she would place lots of orders 

 When I had my own family, I began to collect as well, but not nearly as many as my mother had.  I love the elves and have several of them for all the holidays.  However, I have a large collection of Christmas elves that are scattered all over the house.  They peek around every corner and will surprise guests at every turn.  I always seem to miss one or two when I put them away.  They surprise me!

When my mother passed, we had to find new homes for hundreds of Annalee Dolls.  I added several of hers to my collection. I gave relatives specific ones that I knew would have personal meaning to them.  In the end there were still about 200 plus dolls.  Then the hard part began – what do you do with them??  I tried to sell them to collectors who were also trying to find homes for their own collections. This went on for several months.  In the end we gave them to a Women’s Thrift shop that helped abused women.  They sold them at their auction and in the store.  I know this would have made my mother happy helping other women.  

Any of you that have collections from your own mothers such as Byers’ Carolers or Hummels or Jim Shore figures or Christmas Villages know what I mean about downsizing family collections.  No one in the family wants them anymore.  Once I am gone, I am not sure anyone in my family will want the precious Annalee Dolls.  I hope someone will want the original four elves from the top of the piano. 

 When I unwrap my dolls to display for a holiday, it makes me happy to visit with them again.  I know that my mother would be happy that they bring me joy.  Most importantly, “playing” with the Annalee Dolls is like I am visiting with my mother.  It brings a smile to my lips and a tear to my eye remembering her.  

As autumn leaves paint the landscape in warm hues of red, orange, and gold, families and friends across America come together to celebrate one of the most cherished holidays—Thanksgiving. It’s a day marked by gratitude, togetherness, and traditional food choices that bring people closer, reminding us of the importance of reflection and appreciation for the blessings in our lives.

Thanksgiving’s roots trace back to 1621, when Pilgrims and Native Americans shared a meal to commemorate a successful harvest. While the holiday’s history is complex and has evolved over the centuries, it remains a powerful reminder to pause and give thanks for what we have—our loved ones, health, home, and the opportunities that come our way.

What traditions do you enjoy on this day?

• Gathering Around the Table: The centerpiece of Thanksgiving is the meal itself, with turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie bringing warmth and comfort to the holiday.
• Expressing Gratitude: Many families share what they’re thankful for before digging into the feast—a tradition that fosters connection and appreciation.
• Watching the Parade: The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade has become an American institution, delighting viewers with colorful floats and performances.
• Football and Fun: From backyard games to NFL showdowns, football is an enduring Thanksgiving staple.
• Giving Back: Volunteering and community service are ways people share their gratitude by helping those in need.

Whether you’re hosting a large gathering or enjoying a quiet day, Thanksgiving is an opportunity to connect with others and reflect on the year. Here are some ideas to make your celebration meaningful:

1. Cook Together: Involve everyone in meal prep, sharing cherished recipes and creating new memories.
2. Craft a Gratitude List: Encourage guests to jot down things they’re thankful for and read them aloud.
3. Reach Out: Call or video chat with distant friends and family to share the holiday spirit.
4. Donate: Consider supporting local food banks or charities in honor of the season.

This year, let’s celebrate not just with food and festivities, but with open hearts and a spirit of kindness. Whether you are near or far from loved ones, may your day be filled with joy, laughter, and gratitude. And may you remember to carry that spirit of gratitude with you each and every day. Wishing everyone a safe, happy, and memorable Thanksgiving!

I have lived on a corner lot for over 27 years. Admittedly, I do not know my neighbors. Until I retired I generally left the house by 7:00 am and arrived home some time after 8:00 pm – often later.

The front of my house is somewhat obscured from the street as it sports two large berms, separated by a sidewalk that comprises steps up and then down before emptying onto my front porch.  In the back I have a 750 sq ft deck below which is my back yard – if you can call it that. From the retaining wall under the deck to the stockade fence separating that neighbor’s home is only 20-30 ft. including a dry brook and an 89 ft long garden. On the north side of the house is what one would call the back yard as it is the largest area that is flat where children might play. On the garage side of the house which faces the side street is a yard peppered with trees that are much older than my home. All of this is to say – I don’t have ready access to visit with the people to whom I live the nearest.

Lately, however, I have been walking the neighborhood. I have my paths figured out which allow me to walk a little more than a mile in one pass. Occasionally I will wave at a drive passing by but seldom do I see other people.

Today I was later getting out. By the time I rounded the cul-de-sac and started the home loop, I observed a line of vehicles along the street where I had planned to walk.  Checking my watch I realized it was time for the little people to emerge from their school day.  A shaded sidewalk connects our neighborhood to the edge of an elementary school ground. Daily, parents walk or drive to meet their children.  It was as if a sleeping giant had come to life, with cars, SUVs, trucks, and even walkers converged on this one area of our neighborhood.

How nice it was to wave and to say hello to passersby – as I passed by.  I was struck by the number of fathers as well as mothers who took the time to greet their children on this lovely autumn afternoon.

Back at home and pulling a few weeds along the sidewalk in front of the berms, one new neighbor commented that he and his children were enjoying my yard decorations from skeletons in October to pumpkins and leaf structures this month.  Soon nutcrackers will adorn the yard for this year’s Tinsel Tribe theme.  But that is for another story.

Today, it is satisfying to see men and women and children as they go about their days. My heart is joyful and grateful for the ability to live in a safe and friendly neighborhood. I wish everyone could have similar experiences.

Mary Ann

At this spooky time of year with Halloween just around the corner, I was trying to find a family Halloween tale.  Of course, we have a Timmy story where I was the victim, and it scared me to death.

When I was young, I feared wolves.  I guess it was one too many fairytales. You know, Little Red Riding Hood kind of genre.  Timmy knew this and took every opportunity to scare me about them.  So, one Halloween Timmy took my mother’s wig and fur coat.  We had a rubber wolf mask that may be the root of my fears, so Timmy included the mask as part of his makeshift wolf costume.  He dressed up and hid under my bed. 

Night came.  I innocently went to my bedroom and crawled under the covers turning off the light as I snuggled in. The room was dark and out from under the bed came this creature, all brown, all hairy, and loudly growling!  There was a wolf in my bedroom, and it looked like it was going to eat me for its dinner.  I was shaking and screaming.  Nightmares were coming true!  And then the giggles began.  It wasn’t a wolf.  It was Timmy!   

Our parents came running and they too had to laugh at the costume – it was clever!  It is now funny, but that night I was terrified.  I was reassured that there were no wolves under my bed.  I can’t remember if Timmy got in trouble, but he was in trouble all the time anyway.  Timmy does not remember this incident at all.  I, however, have never forgotten that the big, bad wolf was under my bed.  For a long time, I hesitated as I walked into a dark room, and I always looked under my bed before going to sleep. I sort of still do….

Mary Ann

I have often shared stories of my childhood or a Timmy story with you. I have not shared anything that my own children’s childhoods.  I would like to tell such a story now.

When we lived in California, the library at the school that my children attended had a lending “library” of small animals like guinea pigs, hamsters, gerbils, or mice and rats that you could check out for the weekend.  It was a wonderful idea for children to enjoy a pet, learn a little about responsibility, and the family didn’t have to buy an animal with a cage, food, bedding, and the like. 

So, one Friday, my daughter brought home a mother rat with her 13 babies.  They were all white with brown spots.  It was only a two-day visit so what could possibility go wrong?  It was a lively group and our whole family got a chance to play with the little ones.  Mother Rat was attentive, and she was quite patient with her babies being manhandled by children.  

Rats are very intelligent and can be quite loving.  It is the word Rat that is a turn off. If you watch All Creatures Great and Small on PBS, Siegfried Farnon, the older vet, has a pet rat.  Rats are interesting, and Siegfried thoroughly enjoys his little friend.  He kept it next to his desk.

I digress.  Saturday came without incident.  Then I walked into my daughter’s bedroom to find an empty rat cage. OMG!  There are 14 rats loose in my house.  Where were they?  Well, next to the dresser where the cage was kept was my daughter’s big wooden doll house. Something told me to look inside, and I did.  It may have been seeing a tail coming out of one of the windows.  There were all the babies with their mother supervising.  The babies were in the bathtub, on the little beds, running up and down the stairs, sitting on the couch and chairs.  At first, it was shocking but after watching them enjoying themselves, it was rather charming. The doll house furniture was just their size.  The baby rats were ready to move it!

I then became a rat wrangler!  I picked up each of the babies by their tails and put them back into their container.  Mother Rat joined them and was happy to be home   She did not want to leave her babies.   When they were all back together in their home, they piled on top of one another like a football scrum for a nap.  Mother Rat took a nap as well always keeping watch on her mischievous brood. I am sure she was exhausted. They had had quite an adventure.  

The rats returned to school Monday morning. I must admit I was not sad to see them go.  However, the library set up adoptions for the babies, and guess what, we adopted one.  Pooky was a very good pet and was loved by the whole family.  I can assure you that Pooky’s cage had a very secure lid.  The only downside of a pet rat is that they chew.  You had to be careful not to put clothing anywhere near her cage.  Otherwise, a sleeve of a sweater soon became a rat’s nest of colorful yarn.  We learned this the hard way.  

I was thankful for my children to have the experience of caring and loving one of God’s creatures.  Over the years we had many little furry friends.  Parents everywhere need to thank all the little mice, hamsters, gerbils, guinea pigs, and yes, rats for being loving pets to their children!   They are always there for a snuggle.  It teaches children responsibility, how life cycles work, and caring for a fellow creature. In the end a mouse (rat) in the house can be a really good thing!

Mary Ann

Timmy stories are part of our family culture.  There is always a lesson in them, and our family grew from the experiences.  However, I am beginning to think that our mother left us alone way too much. She was a strict yet loving mother, and we knew the guidelines.  When she was away, that is when the action happened.  Let me share a Timmy story of one such occasion.

My brother Timmy loved to cook.  However, you could only cook when our mother was home.  That was the family rule, but one Saturday in the summer, Timmy decided to break the rule and make some fudge.  Full disclosure, I was not an accomplice in this venture.  I was reading somewhere in the house while the caper unfolded.

I heard the banging of pans and smelled the chocolate brewing into fudge, and then there was a burnt sugar smell.  After that, there were no sounds in the house, so I went on reading.  Upstairs in the kitchen, Timmy was panicked as the fudge morphed into a burnt blob of sugar, and it would not come off the pan. He thought the fudge was stuck forever!

This was mother’s favorite pan to use when she was cooking, and it would be missed at the next meal prep. Timmy used typical kid logic and needed to hide the evidence.  We had a big field across the road in the front of our house.  He took the pan outside in the front yard and heaved it into the field across the street.  The pan landed in high grass.  No one would know what happened.  He knew he would be in double trouble for unauthorized cooking and destroying our mother’s favorite pan.  He was not free from worry as a cloud of doom formed over his head.

For the next few weeks our mother ranted about the missing pan blaming our father for using it to feed the dogs.  Our father knew better.  I could honestly say I had no idea where it was.  Timmy would deny any knowledge of the pan.  However, he began having trouble sleeping.  He was sick at his stomach.  He couldn’t eat.  It got so bad that he finally confessed one night after he said his prayers.

So, our mother got a flashlight, and Timmy and she went into the field in search of the pan.  It was right where he said he threw it, but there was a surprise!  The pan was clean as a whistle.  I think Timmy learned the power of prayer.  Apparently, the ants had a picnic and feasted on the burnt fudge.  

There is a quote by Lafcadia Hearn about ants – All good work is done the way ants do things: Little by Little.  And boy, did the ants do exactly that.  I don’t remember Timmy getting into trouble.  He had punished himself far more than my parents would have punished him.  I do know our mother was happy to have her pan back.  Timmy’s shoulders were much lighter, and we all learned that burnt pans can be cleaned by ants if all else fails. Tuck that cleaning hack away for another day!