Day 3 Christmas Countdown 2022


When I write, it is like I am talking to you and so yesterday as I intended to share about that wonderful Christmas book and the warm memories around it, I couldn’t help but also be transparent about the relationship with my sister. 

I never know for sure at the start of a writing where we will end up and I certainly want this to be a place of refreshing, so I will share another memory around my sister at Christmas. 

Carla is eight years older than me so was well established as an only child when I came into the family. Our personalities are very different and the age span also had an impact on our interaction. We moved around a lot due to my dad being in the Air Force and that didn’t help since it’s easier to make friends in elementary school than in middle and high school. 

So there are things she had to deal with that I didn’t and while we were never really close, I do have memories of her that still make me smile. 

I remember one Christmas I would have been in fourth grade and still believing in the possibility that Santa just might bring what a child asked for if you were like Tinkerbell and just kept that positive belief vibe strong. 

We lived in a neighborhood in the town we had moved to over the summer and would be our hometown until I graduated from high school. We had roots and I was so happy. So I asked for a horse. 

Why not, right? 

I knew nothing about horses, but was eager and willing to learn. Where we would keep it and such were details my brain did not bother with. And anyway, the idea that Santa would bring one was just a last whim of childhood and I really knew better.

But as we finished opening gifts, my sister who was at this point a senior in high school, hopped up and said something about Laura’s horse.

I was kind of in disbelief, and yet she headed into the unfinished side of the basement and told me to stand in the window of our family room which opened out onto a patio. 

The look on my parents’ face indicated they were as baffled as me but there we stood. 

A few minutes later my sister, who rarely did spontaneous funny things, let herself out the little door from my dad’s workshop on the far side of the patio, “riding” a paint can past our viewing eyes as she circled an imaginary lasso over her head. 

She stopped and shouted out for me to meet Old Paint, my Christmas “horse”. 

If you are unfamiliar Old Paint was a standard name for horses at times in westerns.

I remember us all just laughing and marveling that she had thought of it. 

The memory is sweet because it was unexpected and it is one that I welcome to randomly wander into my mind each year as I try to anticipate or meet the expectations of the wishes and desires of those I love.

Sometimes we get a horse and sometimes we get a laugh and a great memory. 


God bless…enjoy your Saturday <3

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