BIRTHDAYS  and  ANNIVERSARIES

At first we said there was none! but I found out  later Louie's Linda  and Sarah Redding have their aniversaries on the same day in December 24..  We do wish you many happy more and may you hear the Wedding bells ringing on that day.

Well!  Here we are Ladies!  All 11 of us and 12 because I am taking the picture!  Everyone was very excited to have Mrs. Sara Redding at our meeting. She brought examples of her own artwork and showed us how to recycle old cards.

I know we were all excited because throughout the whole meeting there was much talking, no one listened to anyone, we spilled our food, we talked some more, forgot the cards and glue and giggled, but we ended up with some nice cards as you can see some of them here.  We even got Alma Reimche’s picture!!

It was Betty H’s idea to ask and we are really glad she did. Thank you! Good Idea.

NEXT MEETING

Christmas party – December 19, Sunday, 4-6pm

Bring a gift for the family in Two Mile – they have four small children—Lane Jr.-6yrs, Samson-5yrs, Rocky-4yrs, Samuel-2yrs. and  the mother is expecting soon, so baby and children’s clothes would be great – wrapped if you can. Sizes range from 6small – 8-5-pants-6xand 4.  We will get some food together also.  So all you can give will be great.  Let’s make this a really good Christmas for them!

After the meeting is over we will deliver the goods all together and sing them a Christmas carol. So dress up warm. If you want to we may go to another house or two and sing to them.

Tooney for the kitty.  This time $21.41 was collected. After consulting with Ruth C. she said that each side of the newsletter is 10cents which is 20cents a page. Some of the newsletters are five pages!!!  So that means I/we have to cut down unless you would like to donate more funds for this.  Let me know what you want. Thanks.

Newsletters will be made for the ones who attend the meeting only or who attend the meeting regularly .  If you know of anyone who would like one they will need to  pay the fee.

Meal for the next time we meet will be soup and sandwiches. We need a volunteer for making the soup. Homework –Napkin Folding – everyone can choose their own style and demonstrate it.

STORY

Look at your hands

An old man, probably some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the park bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands.

When I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if he was ok. Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at  the same time, I asked him if he was ok.  He raised his head and looked at me and smiled.
 
"Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," he said in a clear strong voice.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, sir, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were ok?" I explained to him.
 "Have you ever looked at your hands?" he asked.  "I mean really looked at your hands."
 
I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them.  I turned them over, palms up and then palms down.  No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making.
 
Then he smiled and related this story:
 
"Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years.  These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.  They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back.
 As a child my mother taught me to fold them in prayer.  They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They dried the tears of my children and caressed the love of my life. They held my rifle and wiped my tears when I went off to war. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent.  They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son.
Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.  They wrote  the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse and when I walked my daughter down the aisle.  Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole and lifted a plow off of my best friends foot. They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.  They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw.  And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.  These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life. 
But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And He won't care about where these hands have been or what they have done. What He will care about is to whom these hands belong and how much He loves these hands.  And with these hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ."

 No doubt I will never look at my hands the same again.
 
I never saw the old man again after I left the park that day but I will never forget him and the words he spoke.  When my hands are hurt or sore or
when I stroke the face of my children I think of the man in the park.  I have a feeling he has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel his hands upon my face.
Thank you, Father God, for hands.