A VERY RASPBERRY CHRISTMAS

May Marcia
America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking

Permalink: 

http://tellmeastory-marcia.blogspot.com/2016/12/a-very-raspberry-christmas.html

 


Here's a story from a boy, Samuel, and the trouble his brother, Michael, caused one Christmas.

Copyright 1994 Sam Franc

Look at that face!


You will love him, like I do, when you hear his story. 

  
    

A VERY RASPBERRY CHRISTMAS

By

Sam Franc

thegraphicsfairy.com

My brother, Michael...(most of my stories start with that statement)...was nine years old that fateful Christmas.   

I was six years old.  

Michael was going through a stage 
                   where he liked to play with  f i r e.  

My family is Jewish.  We celebrate Hanukkah and Christmas. 

I know.  Most Jews don't have Christmas trees, but we're Messianic Jews, and Mom really likes to decorate things. 

My brother, Michael, thought it would be pretty to light the Menorah under the Christmas tree, and take a picture.

He did it.  He sat the Menorah under the Christmas tree, 

and lit it.  

A little part of the tree caught on  f i r e.   

All my family (Mom; Dad; my brother, Tommy; Grandma, Grandpa and me) were in the kitchen.  We had no idea what happened, and my brother, Michael, wasn't about to tell us.

My brother, Michael,  thought there might be something inside one of the packages under the tree that would help him extinguish the small  f i r e. 

My brother, Michael, grabbed one of the presents and opened it. Inside was an aerosol can.  Not knowing what it was, my (nine-year old) brother, Michael, sprayed the contents of the can on the tree, with the hope  that it would put out the f i r e.

The can was actually filled with Mom's favorite, expensive raspberry hair spray.  It cost about $30 a can.

Mom, Dad, Tommy, Grandma, Grandpa, and me heard clinging and clanging, and ran from the kitchen in to the living room as fast as we could.  

F i r e consumed the entire tree.

Mom's beautiful tree was burning.  Ornaments fell from its branches.

My brother, Michael,  just stood there in amazement.  He never even noticed we were there.  He was so amazed in fact,  he captured the moment in pictures with the camera dad gave to him.  

We were flabergasted:  "What just happened?"

The funny thing is...the entire tree burned, but nothing else caught on  f i r e.

My grandpa, the rabbi, laughed hysterically.  

Mom didn't laugh at all.  I'm not sure if she was more mad that my brother, Michael, wasted her expensive raspberry hair spray - or the fact that her tree was in ashes.

Mom walked over to get a good look.  All that was left where her beautiful tree stood was her melting ornaments,  our presents (now covered in charcoal), and our tree topper:  the Star of David, which had been a Franc family treasure for three generations.  It survived - surprisingly unharmed, and stood upright on top of the heap of ashes.  

No one can explain how that happened.

Mom's eye began to twitch - like it always does when she gets mad.  We all knew  my brother, Michael, was in trouble.

My brother, Michael,  turned around and took a picture of the whole family's shocked expressions, and then he ran upstairs and locked himself in his room.

Mom picked up a few of the ashes of her tree in her hand, and watched as the ashes slipped through her fingers.  Grandpa said she was in shock. 

Mom didn't  bother cleaning up the tree that day.  She left everything just as it was.  No one was allowed to touch it.

We went on like nothing happened.  We watched television, and opened our charcoal gifts around the heap of ashes.   We didn't have to tear our gifts open.  The charcoal gift wrap fell off easily.

Every time my brother, Michael,  came close to Mom...her eye began to twitch, although she didn't say a word.

Two days passed, and Mom was still in shock.  

I asked Dad to take me to a forest.  I wanted to find a tree for Mom just as beautiful as the one my brother, Michael,  burned down.  It had to be something I could carry home.  I wanted to do it all by my six-year-old self.

Dad and I hunted for about an hour or two and then - there it was!

"I want to cut this tree down, and bring it home to Mom."

Dad offered to help me cut down the tree that was five feet tall, and much bigger than me, but I refused his help.

"Alright, son.  Don't hurt yourself."  He leaned against another tree and watched me.

I chopped and chopped and chopped for about 45 minutes,  until I cut down that tree.

"Watch out, Dad!  Don't let the tree smoosh you on the way down."

My arms were sore, but I felt like Paul Bunyan.

I rested a bit, and drank some apple juice.

Dad helped me tie a rope on the tree and then around my shoulders like a backpack.   I dragged that five-foot tree behind me.

"Do you want me to help you carry it, son?"  Dad said.

"NO!  I can do this."

Step by step...

It seemed like it took us forever to get to the car.   There were trees to walk through, and pinecones and pine needles and deer fecal matter everywhere on the snow covered ground.  

I thought:  "This must be what it was like for the pioneers."

Finally,  Dad and I saw the car about 100 yards out.

We were almost there.

My tree felt surprisingly light.    

"I must be getting stronger," I thought.

Dad didn't say a word. 

When we were about 50 feet away from the car,  I started running.

I ran to the car with the tree behind me, and tagged the car like it was home base!

I untied the string that was tied on my shoulders like a backpack, and  turned around.  To my amazement - my once full beautiful five-foot tree was reduced to a log and two spindly branches.

Dad sighed, and said:  "Samuel, I didn't know how to tell you.  Still - this might be the most beautiful tree I have ever seen.  Let's get it home to your mom so she can decorate it."

I felt better about my little tree.  We loaded it on top of the car.  It looked more like a piece of firewood with two arms.  

My five-foot tree was more like a three-foot tree.  

I'm not sure what happened to the rest of it.

On the drive home, Dad and I discussed theories about what happened to the tree.  We concluded a family of beavers were hungry, and they needed to feed their children, so they ate my tree. 

See?  I fed the hungry beavers.  

Dad agreed.  

It made me happy.  

We pulled up in the driveway at home, and I couldn't wait to show mom the tree I got her.

Dad helped me unload it.    

"This is what we'll do, Samuel.  I'll go ring the doorbell and you can be the tree delivery man."

Grandma, Grandpa,and my brothers, Michael and Tommy were watching television.  Mom was still staring at the ashes of her old tree when Dad rang the doorbell.

My brother, Michael, opened the door.  He looked down at my tree and laughed:  "You guys have been gone all this time, and you brought back a piece of firewood with two arms?"

"No, Michael.  Let me in, and I will educate you," I said.

I dragged the tree inside, and put it on top of the ashes.  I picked up the Star of David, and set it on top of the tree.  

I sat in front of it.

"Family, I want to tell you something," I announced.

They listened,  because Grandpa says when someone wants to talk...you listen.

I had their attention.

"Mom, here is your Christmas tree...unlike the one my brother, Michael, burned.  It might not be as pretty, but I chopped it all by myself....and I fed homeless beavers along the way."

No one spoke for what seemed like forever.

My brother, Michael, laughed and took a picture of my tree.

Mom finally got off the sofa, and walked toward me.  She pulled me me in her arms and hugged me.  She started to cry, and my mom is not a crying woman - ever.

"Samuel, there is only one thing I can say about this.  This is the most beautiful tree I have ever seen.  I see no flaws in it."

She gathered up the melted ornaments and began to stick them on my tree.  She wrapped red and green velvet ribbon around my tree, and added tiny little multicolored Christmas lights.  

Grandma started to clean up the ashes, but Mom made my brother, Michael, do it.   

Grandma made a rule that year:  "If you ever  buy a gift that will cause a fire  - do NOT wrap it."

Mom kept looking at the tree.  She wasn't in shock anymore.  But for the next week or two every time she looked at my brother, Michael, her eye began to twitch. 

Our house smelled like raspberry hair spray for at least one week.  Mom said the smell must have stayed in the curtains.

Dad never bought Mom raspberry hair spray again, but

every year since - someone buys my brother, Michael, a can of  raspberry hair spray.

Christmas 2011,  Grandmother gave us permission to break her rule about NOT wrapping flammable items.  The word got out and everybody in the family bought my brother, Michael, the same gift.  That year my brother, Michael,  unwrapped 18 cans of  raspberry hair spray.

 

A VERY RASPBERRY CHRISTMAS

 By

Sam Franc

 Raspberry Hair Spray

CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:

http://images.search.yahoo.com/search/images?_adv_prop=image&fr=mcafee&va=raspberry+hairspray

Thanks for stopping by!

Come back often, and invite a friend!

Mary Marcia

America's STORYTELLER

Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking

Blogger at: http://tellmeastory-marcia.blogspot.com/

 

2013 JOURNEY TO CHRISTMAS: A TALE OF TWO PEACOCKS

Marcia Norwood
America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking

2013 JOURNEY TO CHRISTMAS:

A TALE OF TWO PEACOCKS

Have you considered using peacocks in your  Christmas decor?

"Wishes fall like peacock feathers 

on the night of Christmas Eve. 

So, close your eyes and make a wish. 

It’s easy to believe!"

  

I must admit that I've never decorated with peacocks, but now I'm on the search for anything peacock...feathers included.

Why?

Because my daughter, Faith, wrote a beautiful love story about two peacocks, for someone she loves when they were separated for a time.  I added details to the story (with her permission), and a special friend of mine named the peacocks.  

The story is published today, for the first time. 

First - some peacock trivia...


Peacock Symbolism

The majestic  peacock is found on art works in medieval paintings and manuscripts, and used in decorative motifs on churches and buildings. 

The peacock even appears among the animals in the stable in Christ's nativity.  

Certainly it signified something more than pride, as in the modern maxim, “proud as a peacock.”

The peacock is a symbol of immortality because the ancients believed that the peacock had flesh that did not decay after death. 

Early Christian paintings and mosaics use peacock imagery, and peacock feathers can be used during the Easter season as church decorations. 

The peacock naturally replaces his feathers annually; as such, the peacock is also a symbol of renewal.

Early belief held that the Gates of Paradise are guarded by a pair of peacocks.

The peacock has the ability to eat poisonous snakes without harm.

Both Origen and Augustine refer to peacocks as a symbol of the resurrection.
 

http://thegraphicsfairy.com/

 A TALE OF TWO PEACOCKS
By 
Faith and Marcia Norwood 
Copyright 2013

Once upon a time, there lived two peacocks:  two very beautiful peacocks.   The male was named Sky.  The female was named Mystique.  All who saw them envied their beauty, and their love for each other.

Before they met, Sky (like most male peacocks) used his brilliant plumage to entice females.  He did all he could do to get the attention of  the females in his harem.    Perhaps that's why peacock social groups are called "parties."

http://thegraphicsfairy.com/

It is said that most peacocks do not mate forever.  There are stories, though, of green peafowl that are monogamous in the wild.

Sky and Mystique lived at the zoo, but they were wild at heart: and like the green peafowl; they chose each other as mates for life.  

They were so happy together until one day Mystique was shipped half-way around the world to a different zoo.  

Their calls and cries were carried on the wind.

Mystique was lonely and unhappy living apart from her love.  She rejected the advances of other male peacocks who attempted to entice her with their ostentatious feathers.  Life without Sky seemed impossible.

http://thegraphicsfairy.com/

Both  Sky and Mystique were well fed with plenty of grains, fruits, seeds, plants, and even occasional reptiles and amphibians.  

Their wings were clipped regularly by zookeepers, so they could not fly away.

Sky had no desire to display his feathers, and prance around to attract other females.  He had no will to live without the love of his life.


Not a day went by that Sky and Mystique did not think about each other. 

Both decided to escape their captivity.  On exactly the same day - although thousands of miles apart - each walked out of their zoo.  

"I'm one step closer to you, my love," Mystique cried.

"I'll find you, Love," Sky promised.

They traveled through forests and cities: through time and seasons...and listened to the cry of their wild hearts. 

Along their journey - they lost many feathers, only to gain more beautiful and brilliant ones.  

"Have you seen my love?"  Mystique asked those she met on her travels.  

"I'm searching for the love of my life," Sky told anyone who would listen.

It is said whenever lost peacock feathers were found on the ground,  the story of Sky and Mystique was retold.  The feathers became a treasured keepsake.

Even a few humans seemed to understand their mournful cries.

The story of the lost lovers' search for each other spread far and wide. 


Sky and Mystique stumbled and fell along the way, but each time they got back up, and just took the next step.

They never lost hope.  


A force stronger than both of them,  a still-small voice in their heart,  guided Sky and Mystique  to a tropical paradise: the home of the green peafowls who mate for life.

Years of wandering had at least one benefit: with no one to clip their wings - they began to fly!  

And fly they did.  Sky found Mystique in a paradise rich in jade and gems, and oil, and green peafowls who mate for life.  

They were home, and home was anywhere they were together. 

No one would ever separate them again.

Some believe the Gates of Paradise are guarded by Sky and Mystique.

Their  story, A Tale of Two Peacocks, will be told for generations to come, each time a peacock feather is found. 

If you are lucky enough to find a peacock feather, you have found a treasure.   


Save it for the love of your life, and never give up hope that one day, your wild hearts will find each other.

"Wishes fall like peacock feathers 

on the night of Christmas Eve. 

So, close your eyes and make a wish. 

It’s easy to believe!"

Faith Norwood.  Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood

Peacock Display/Sounds 
CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:

http://search.yahoo.com/search?fr=mcafee&type=A111US0&p=sounds+of+peacocks 

Peacock:  Animal Facts and Information
CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:

http://bioexpedition.com/peacock/


 Symbolism of the Peacock:
CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:
http://www.traditioninaction.org/religious/f023_Peacock.htm

Sound of Peacock:
CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MhZPqHeEAQ

Peacock Crafts/Oriental Trading
CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:

http://www.orientaltrading.com/api/search?Ntt=peacock

Thanks for stopping by!

Come back often, and invite a friend!

Marcia Norwood
America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking

Faith Norwood.  Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood

Faith Norwood.  Copyright 2013 Marcia Norwood

 

 

2013 JOURNEY TO CHRISTMAS: CINDY'S MEMORY

Marcia Norwood
America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking

My friend,  Cindy, shared a Christmas memory about a book her mother read to her as a child in the 2011 JOURNEY TO CHRISTMAS booklet.

Cindy's story is even more precious this year, 2013, as her mother went to Heaven just two weeks ago.

 

Cindy and Family.  Copyright 2011 Cindy Kohlstaedt

   

Christmas Memory

By

Cindy Kohlstaedt

One of my favorite Christmas traditions as a child was a beautifully illustrated pop-up book titled, Davey and the First Christmas, by Beth Vardon.   

Mom read it to us every year on Christmas Eve.

Once I learned to read, I would entertain my brothers and sister all through the holiday season - reading them the story of the little stable boy who cleaned the stable where Jesus would be born.

I would try to read it exactly like Mom did, even pausing for giggles in all the right places.

Even though we all had the story memorized, we still couldn't wait for Mom to read it on Christmas Eve.

When my first child was born, Mom gave the book to me. 
Davey and the First Christmas became a tradition for my children.

I remember thinking, as a child - even though Davey made messes, and broke things, and was just a little kid - God still had a very special job for him to do.  And what a fine job he did.  

Davey didn't know who he was cleaning the stable for, he just knew he wanted to do his best.  God used him even in all his clumsiness.

 Cindy Kohlstaedt

Davey and the First Christmas

Audio/Video: 

CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:

http://video.search.yahoo.com/video/play;_ylt=A2KIo.Ap1ZtSIBcAUWT7w8QF;_ylu=X3oDMTByZWc0dGJtBHNlYwNzcgRzbGsDdmlkBHZ0aWQDBGdwb3MDMQ--?p=davey+and+the+first+christmas+audio&vid=3213165e368f13305776a4de270ba76b&l=7%3A18&turl=http%3A%2F%2Fts3.mm.bing.net%2Fth%3Fid%3DV.4589680595699366%26pid%3D15.1&rurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D3J3KxY9wsZw&tit=We+Survived+2012!+Davey+and+the+First+Christmas&c=0&sigr=11a9281es&sigt=11f14n7vl&age=0&&tt=b

CLICK on this image to ENLARGE. 

 Thank you, Cindy, 
for sharing your story.

I'm praying for you and your family this Christmas,
and for all those who have said, 
"Goodbye for now"
to a loved one.

Copyright 2009 Marcia Norwood

 "Brothers and sisters,
we do not want you to be uninformed
about those who sleep in death,
so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind,
who have no hope."

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
The Holy Bible

 

Copyright 2009 Marcia Norwood

 "...Where we are told, "But our citizenship is in Heaven.
And we eagerly await a Savior from there,
the Lord Jesus Christ, 
Who, by the power than enables Him to bring
everything under His control,
will transform our lowly bodies 
so that they will be like His glorious body."

Philippians 3:20-21 
The Holy Bible 

Copyright 2009 Marcia Norwood

 Thanks for stopping by!

Come back often, and bring a friend!

Marcia Norwood
America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking

http://tellmeastory-marcia.blogspot.com/



  

2013 JOURNEY TO CHRISTMAS: LETTER TO SANTA

Marcia Norwood
America's STORYTELLER
Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking

2013 JOURNEY TO CHRISTMAS

LETTER TO SANTA  

Did you write a Letter to Santa?

Do your children write letters to Santa?

Here's a letter my daughter, Faith, 

wrote to Santa in 2011.

  

Marcia's Daughter:  Faith Fu Ju.  Copyright 2011 Marcia Norwood

Letter to Santa

Christmas 2011

Dear Santa,

Do you remember the Christmas of 1944?  

That year a teacher named Donald Yetter Gardner wrote the silly song:   “All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth,” after he asked his 2^nd grade class what they wanted for Christmas. 

Almost all of his students answered him with a lisp, because they had at least one tooth missing.  (My mom, Marcia Norwood, sang the song when she was a kid in the 1950’s.)

  

I lived in China in an orphanage until I was eight years old.  We never celebrated Christmas.  I heard the song for the first time in 2002 - my first Christmas in America - when you, Santa, put a little toy mouse in my stocking that was missing one tooth.   When I pushed on his tummy he sang:  “All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth!” 

 

Fu Ju at the Orphanage, Liaoning Province, China.  Copyright 2002 Marcia Norwood

I asked for more than just my two front teeth my first Christmas. I hoped and dreamed and prayed for a pretty smile.   Most of my teeth were in the wrong places because I was born with a cleft lip and palate.   It must have been too much for my Chinese birth parents to handle, because I was found at a train station in Benxi City, Liaoning Province, when I was two days old.  

Someone took me to an orphanage in northern China, and gave me the name:  Fu Ju…which means blessing or great reward after much hard work.  

My Forever Family adopted me in October 2002. My American parents kept my Chinese name as my middle name, and also gave me a new American name:  Faith.  My mom says both names fit me perfectly.  

 

Shriners Hospital Chicago.  Copyright 2007 M. Norwood

My wish for a pretty smile is almost complete.  I had two surgeries in China, more surgeries at Children’s Mercy Hospital in Kansas City, and multiple surgeries at the Shriners Hospital in Chicago.   

The Shriners even helped pay for my braces. 

 

Faith Fu Ju.  Shriners Hospital Chicago.  Copyright 2007 Marcia Norwood

 

This Christmas 2011 – I’m not asking for something for me.

Faith Fu Ju.  Shriners Hospital Chicago.  Copyright 2007 Marcia Norwood

I’m asking you to bring a new mini-van to the Shriners at Ararat Shrine Center in Kansas City, Missouri.  You can drive it right up to their door at 5100 Ararat Drive, Kansas City, Missouri, 64129. 

Shriners help many children like me, regardless of their ability to pay, and whether they have insurance or not.    They also provide free transportation to children and their families to Shriners Hospitals in the USA.   

We've made friends with staff at Shriners Hospital Chicago over the years Faith has received treatments and surgeries there.  Copyright 2009 Marcia Norwood

 

The Kansas City Center has about 40 Shriners screened to be drivers.  They alternate driving one van that was donated by the Warsaw, Missouri Shrine Club.  The Warsaw Shriners saved the proceeds from Bingo games to purchase the van for the Kansas City Center.  That van is 11 months old and already has 68,000 miles.  It makes four or five trips each week to Shriners hospitals in Chicago, Cincinnati, and St. Louis.  Sometimes the trips overlap, and they have to rent another van.

 Santa, I know you have lots of helpers.  Maybe one of them could donate a mini-van…or maybe 25 of your helpers could give $1,000 each…or 50 helpers could donate $500… or 100 helpers could donate $250…or 250 helpers could give $100.    Just think how many children and families your donation will help!

Faith, Sarah and Megan.  Copyright 2008 Marcia Norwood

I’ve waited for 17 years to have a pretty smile. 

Some people stop and stare at me – just like in the lyrics to the song:  “Everybody stops and stares at me…These two teeth are gone as you can see…”   

My next procedure is a facial reconstruction/jaw realignment surgery  at the Shriners Hospital Chicago.   

Shriners helped pay for Faith's braces.  Copyright 2012 Marcia Norwood

SHRINERS HOSPITALS FOR CHILDREN

CHANGING THE WORLD.

CARING FOR KIDS. 

CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:

http://www.shrinershospitalsforchildren.org/ 

Faith at Dykhouse Orthodontics.    Copyright 2012 Marcia Norwood

 I hope that your helpers, Santa, will give the Shriners a Christmas present they will never forget:  a new mini-van, so they can help other kids like me. 

Merry Christmas!

Faith Fu Ju Norwood, 17 years old

 SONG:   

All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth

CLICK on the link or COPY & PASTE the link in your browser:

http://video.search.yahoo.com/search/video?p=all+i+want+for+christmas+is+my+two+front+teeth+song 

 Lyrics

“All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth”

 By Donald Yetter Gardner 

Everybody stops
And stares at me
These two teeth are
Gone as you can see.

I don't know just who
To blame for this catastrophe!
But my one wish on Christmas Eve
Is as plain as it can be!

All I want for Christmas
Is my two front teeth,
My two front teeth,
See my two front teeth!

Gee, if I could only
Have my two front teeth,
Then I could wish you
"Merry Christmas."
It seems so long since I could say,
"Sister Susie sitting on a thistle!"

Gosh oh gee, how happy I'd be,
If I could only whistle (thhhh)

All I want for Christmas
Is my two front teeth,
My two front teeth,
See my two front teeth.

Gee, if I could only
Have my two front teeth,
Then I could wish you
"Merry Christmas!"

Thanks for stopping by!

Come back often, and invite a friend!

Marcia Norwood

America's STORYTELLER

Telling Untold Stories in Photographs, Prose and Public Speaking

CHICAGO Skyline.  Faith and Marcia.  Copyright 2011 Marcia Norwood

Faith and Marcia.  Copyright 2011 Marcia Norwood

CHINATOWN CHICAGO.  Faith and Marcia.  Copyright 2011 Marcia Norwood