The Good Samaratian In Town

The other day as I got something for the angel tree, I couldn't help but think of a time in my childhood and smiled. I wondered was I changing this child's life as mine was profoundly changed. This story I'm about to tell truly inspires us and has always reminded me who I am today. Hope you enjoy.

Many of you that know me, know that I grew up poor and for those of you who didn't know, well, you know now. We didn't have much and what we did have, we cherished knowing full well if we broke it there was no replacing.

Christmas was always slim around our house. My father may have had a blue collar job, the pay was minimum and Christmas bonuses were far few and in between.

Somehow though, my parents managed. They usually went to re-sale shops or the dollar store to get Christmas. We always had something under the tree. It may not have been much but it was something.

I believe people come into our lives with a purpose. Sure it may only be briefly that we know them or it could be a life time. But in either case, people venture into our lives for a reason and I believe it when I tell this story of the Good Samaritan in town.

I remember one year was a bad year. I mean bad. And Santa was probably not going to be coming to the house like he had in the past. I was a teenager by this time and saw things that my younger siblings were unaware of. By then I had quit making Christmas list, knowing full well I wasn't going to get what I wished for.

We did have a Christmas but it was fairly slim and I was grateful for the items I received. Most of the stuff was second hand but that didn't matter, for us kids it was Santa had came to the house.

Well, one day a very nice man came to the house. Trent Thomas was his name. I'm not sure if my father was working for his family at the time, but I do remember my father worked for them at one time. Anyway I remember Trent coming up to the house and Daddy went out to see him.

Later daddy returned with four gift wrapped boxes. My father said Santa came by while he was out talking. The boxes were nicely wrapped and the way they were addressed made us kids laugh.

Instead of names on each package, apparently the Mr. Thomas had a time trying to remember four children's name. So, on each box it read; the oldest girl, the youngest girl, the oldest boy, the youngest boy.

Well, that's what my father did, gave each of us our present. We tore into those little packages like there was no tomorrow. I really can't recall what my siblings got, but I remember what I got; a plush Teddy Bear.

I was beyond thrilled. It was so soft. I remember for months I kept that teddy bear nearby for comfort when things got bad around the house.

Even though the teddy bear, which I still, have; was a simple gift. That simple gift to me was a signal someone out there in this big old world cared about me and my siblings.

Now most people would have just said I did my part to society and be done with it. But Mr. Thomas was different. The following year we got another gift from the family. That year I received a watermelon necklace, it too, I still have. But the following year would be the year that would actually change my life and make me who I am today.

I know many of you have inspired to be something because of something tragic in your life or what you believe. I was inspired by a family who gave me the tools to be who I am today.

That year Mr. Thomas brought by the gifts and as usual my father handed them out. I still can't recall what my siblings got but I do remember what I got.

I opened my gift and inside was this notebook, but not just any notebook. I had seen these notebooks all over school. For those of you who are young and reading this I don't mean computer laptops. I mean a notebook that held paper.

The notebook was blue and on the outside were clear Ziploc plastic covers. This was the fancy version of the Trapper Keeper, all the rage when I was in school.

Girls really liked them. They would have their favorite teen idol's picture they had cut from the teen mags and place them in the clear pocket.

I was going to be like the others now and have me a Trapper Keeper and could put pictures in the clear sides. Have to say, I really didn't have any teen pictures at the time so I would be searching for a few of those.

Inside my trapper was notebook paper. I'm sure it was just a ream of the stuff, but it sure seemed like two or three packages filled it. I also got pens and pencils to go with my new notebook and paper.

Now most kids would probably think this was a stupid gift, but for me it meant the world. You see, I did a lot of day dreaming as a child.

As the oldest I felt it was my job to keep the siblings dreaming too. So many nights while we were all trying to get to sleep I remember telling stories until we all passed out. I sometimes took old school papers and wrote on the back of them story ideas I had.

I know this is weird when I say this, especially coming from a teenager at the time, but I thought it to be a sign. A sign I should write down all my stories or at least my ideas and lock them away from the rest of the world.

Later I would sit in my room and write poems and short stories and dream of the day I would be a writer. I did this for hours. My imagination went wild with stories all because someone gave me paper and the writing tools to do such. Of course it would be my teacher, Mrs. Wylie Jean Stokes, who would foster those writing skills that were inside of me.

The following year, and many years after that we would receive five dollar bills instead of the usual wrapped package. And every year I always bought pens and paper along with a little candy. I would go to my room and write.

Trent Thomas gave to us every year, gave me something, the one thing that to this day reflects who I am, Texas Author Carla Landreth.

So remember the next time you go out your way to help a child, you could be helping a future doctor, lawyer, teacher, policeman or writer.

Now wait, this story isn't over! That's what you are saying. The burning question you want to know is who did I put in my Trapper Keeper?

Good question. Well, this is the kicker. I convinced my grandma to buy me one of those teen magazines with the stars in it. She had this funny notion there might be a picture of Rudy Valentino, she had a crush on the dead man. She already had a picture of Clark Gable. As a teen I rolled my eyes knowing full well that wasn't possible but I wasn't going to argue.

In my Keeper, I had Michael J Fox, he was on Family Ties at the time, Billy Hufsey, he was on Fame, later I would get signed picture from him, in fact several, before he dropped off the face of the earth, and well I had a group picture of the A-Team. I traded off John Travolta and Ralph Macchio for it. I had a severe crush on Faceman or at least the guy who played him--Dirk Benedict. I was able to later collect a few more pictures of the A-team by trading. As they say, I grew up from adolescent heart throbs and moved on to greener pastures.


Books by Carla Landreth
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=carla+landreth

That New Invention. . . Satin Balls

Does anyone remember the little invention of the satin balls? You don't see them much anymore I guess if you go to E-bay they will have them, but for the most part they are a distant memory for some.

The first ones to come out were made of Styrofoam, covered in millions of little strands of satin. Any color in the book was out there, blue, red, white, green, pink, you named it, it was out there. Later they could be bought made of plastic covered in the same satin.

They were the latest craze to hit the Christmas market since the lit lawn moulds. Who could forget them they would be all shiny and satin and placed on your tree? It was the new invention for Christmas balls instead of the old glass balls.

My Aunt Carolyn bought them and gave them away as Christmas presents one year after she bought beads and had them beaded up like they were some fancy Faberge Christmas ball for the rich. I remember both grandparents running out buying them a set of the latest invention.

I remember the kids talking about this shatter proof balls their parents bought instead of the old stand by glass balls. In fact, every tree you met had shiny satin balls.

Now you know with every good thing there is always a draw back. These beautiful satin ornaments had their share; the biggest problem? Well, let's say you put the ornaments up in a box like you did your other little ornaments. Then the following year you brought them down to put on the tree and wham! Those shatter proof balls weren't snag proof.

That's right; those pretty little balls were now like mice had invaded your pristine box and had a field day with the satin. Nobody knew that when you put them up you were to remove the hooks, who knew. It never failed if one came undone so did the rest.

Now you would think this would have deterred people from going out and buying them another box of these little shiny ornaments; wrong. People thought they were so pretty they couldn't resist. And our fine American stores discovered this and plotted to make more money by just about only offering these satin balls or the expensive glass ornaments, which had fallen out with the public.

I can't say they weren't pretty, they were. But you know a many of ornaments went to the trash to be forgotten. I myself thought the satin balls were pretty but I'm a type of person thinking our old ornaments are just as good and they had a memory to go with them.

Sure these Satin balls made for an interesting tree and were cheaper than glass but for me they just didn't have the luster as the handmade ones or the glass ones that dolled up a tree.

My father had been eyeing these satin balls for a while and one Christmas season he had decided to replace our old ornaments with the new and fancy satin balls. He had joined the Satin ball craze!

Now he didn't want to mix these nice ornaments with the others he already had. In fact he informed mama the others can go into the trash; for which they did.

My kid brother, Jason and I weren't pleased with this new idea of his. We liked our old pink, red and blue glass balls. Sure some were losing their luster, but we've had these balls every since we can remember and tossing them aside wasn't setting well with us.

I have to say when it came to Christmas my father controlled the tree. We hardly got to put an ornament on the tree without it being moved by him. I mean I do that now, but I do it when the kids aren't looking; like when they have gone to bed. By then they have forgotten where they put the ornaments. Not my father he did it in front of you with a few choice words that usually damped our holiday spirit.

It was the Christmas holiday vacation and we kids were out of school. We became bored rather quickly and rather quickly our mother shoved us kids outside.

We had this old barn it was quite nice actually for a barn. It had a wooden floor and the roof didn't leak. Part of it was used for housing chicken and goat feed from the elements. The other part was used as our play house.

Our play house was everything to us it was a house, a school, a department store, grocery store, even a cruise ship at one time. You see we had an imagination and all we needed were a few things to help us along. I remember our play money was cut up newspaper with numbers on it. I remember digging in the trash getting out old cans, cleaning them and using them for our grocery store. Our old school work that we brought home was used for our own little play school.

We used our imagination and this holiday break wasn't going to change that, but we had become bored. As we sat there at our little table and make shift chairs (five gallon metal buckets) we were still bummed about the ornaments that had been tossed into the trash.

Well, that is until we found out Jason had fetched them out of the trash. He had some how managed to hide them from our father. He brought them out so we could stare at them on the table. We wondered what we could do with them. We didn't have a tree nor did we have any bailing wire or string to hang them from the rafters of the barn.

Then I remembered seeing a blood weed, some of you call it a milk weed. It's a pesky weed that when you cut it bleeds out milky stuff. It's also prickly if you let it go and can become a bush. Well, I remember one in the very back of the property had grown quite big and since the cold had sit in the weed had dried up.

I gave Jason the idea to go out and chop it down while I found a bucket of some sort to put dirt in for the tree. We had to have a tree stand so the bucket of dirt would do just fine.

It took him a while but he finally came back with the weed that had a three inch stem which meant Jason had to get the axe because the roots where too deep and he couldn't bend it to break it. The thing was too prickly to pull out of the ground as well. I had the bucket which was nothing more than an old feed can that had accumulated a hole in it and had become useless to feed the chickens with.

We put the weed on the table and with our two other siblings, we decorated our so called tree with the old ornaments.

Jason pointed out we needed garland, something our father didn't throw out. So we took some of those old school papers and colored the backs of them and made them into paper chains.

I wasn't pleased with a naked tree I told him. Meaning it didn't have any presents under it. Once again we dug into the trash and found some small boxes my parents had thrown away. We got some newspaper and wrapped them up, later sneaking a bow or two from the bow box.

For days our mother noted we sure were going outside and playing a lot in the barn. She never went to the barn so she just assumed it was just us playing around.

We knew we could get into trouble for digging in the trash we did before, so we weren't going to chance it this time, by telling mama what we had done. However where there is a good plan there is always a flaw; especially when children are involved.

You see, we forgot that our father would be checking the barn at some point to make sure the chickens and goats had enough feed. We never thought about that.

So you can imagine what four children did when that darn barn door opened and there stood our father. We came off our buckets as they say and stood beside each other. One moment we are admiring our handy work the next we know our father is going to tear it down and whip us.

Jason and I dreaded this moment. Once he stepped into the barn we knew we were dead. First we would get a whipping for digging in the trash, another for using the axe to cut the weed down, another for using tape to wrap empty boxes, another for stealing bows, wasting glue, our list of whippings was longer than our Christmas list. If only we had thought about him checking on the feed.

We were ready for the yelling and the whipping that we would receive, however my father must have been hit in the head that day.

To our surprise, yes, he cursed, even in the good mood that man cursed. But to our surprise, he thought it was cute. We haven't figured out if we just caught him in a good mood or if he really thought what we did was adorable as my mother quoted.

Of course we explained we like the old glass ones as well as the new ones he bought, but there were still some good glass balls and felt he shouldn't have thrown them away.

One thing was for sure, the following year and some years after that some of our glass balls would be perched with the satin balls or plastic balls or handmade items. Just because it's old doesn't mean it needs to go to the trash.



Books by Carla Landreth
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=carla+landreth

Grandparents and Christmas Lights Don't Mix

When I was real young my maternal grandparents would have their evening meal called, supper. Afterwards, they would clean up and would go outside and sit on the lawn to watch the world relax and come to a close. Yes, many nights they sat outside until it was nearly ten o'clock then they would call it a night and get ready for bed. That was the schedule and as a child it was hard for me to understand why. Many times if it wasn't too hot, grandma took us walking and that was fun. But for me and my kid brother Jason, we would play outside not caring one bit what we did until it was bedtime.

Now when it became too cool or too wet to sit out, Grandma had another plan of action. We could watch television that was only in black and white. Not that I wasn't glad to see television, but frankly, watching Charlie Angels in black and white didn't do the show much good and frankly Lawrence Welk looked much older if you asked me. If you weren't into black and white television then there was a game of checkers. That was the only game grandma had besides jacks. Sometimes grandma re-read the paper. Depending on the weather, the radio was on instead of the television. But most of the time we sat outside enjoying the end of the day.

Well, one Christmas, my grandma wanted to get out and see the lights. You have to understand they never drove in the evening, unless something bad happened to a family member and had to go to the emergency room. They sat in lawn chairs on the lawn like slugs talking. Well, my grandma got the notion she wanted grandpa to take us all out in the green Mercury and look at the festivities of lights that bestowed the little town of De Leon, Texas.

Jason and I were so excited. It was a treat that grandma made such a suggestion now it was convincing grandpa to take us on this little excursion.

I don't know if it was grandma's firm voice or her nagging. But grandpa finally gave in, and said he would take us. So as soon as it became dark grandma bundled us up. She made sure we went to the bathroom and then she shuffled us off to the car.

Grandpa had already been out in the Mercury warming it up. He was wiping the window with his gloved hand so he could see out. In the older days, car heaters didn't defrost windows to well, so many old men and some ladies would use their gloves to wipe the window from the fog that would accumulate inside the vehicle.

We all piled into the car, my grandpa the designated driver may have had a license but I can guarantee you he didn't have insurance or possible brakes. Jason all bundled up like a blizzard had just hit De Leon, stood in the floor board of the car near the door, so he could look out the window while I was just as bundled up, and sat on my grandma's lap.

Now this is the point of the story I should explain for those of you who don't understand. As a child I could remember you could drive a car through town without insurance and no seat belt laws existed, much less the belts in the cars. By today's standards grandpa would be in jail.

As Jason and I were glued to the window, grandpa wasn't sure were to start. Well, Jason and I were connoisseurs of the town Christmas lights and we were more than eager to point the way for grandpa while he did the driving.

Grandpa drove slow as we told him where every house was located that we knew was lit up for the Christmas season. I really have to be honest, when I say this, I don't think my grandparents ever went looking at lights, I mean it. It was like leading the blind through town and children were the Seeing Eye dogs.

The reason I thought this was the fact every time we came to a house my grandpa would pull off the road into a ditch and stop and stare before moving on. Not like our father who only slowed down long enough to get a glimpse then move on like the rest of the world.

No sir-re bob, grandpa wanted to make sure grandma was happy and what better way than to pull into a ditch for which we could get stuck and look at lights.

We had so much fun. Even though Jason and I had seen the lights on a regular basis grandma and grandpa hadn't and they took their time which resulted in us seeing more than we thought existed on people's lawn.

My grandparents were getting in the spirit of things as grandma talked about the amazement of lights. We saw it all. Houses that were only red and green, some had all the colors of the rainbow, some had the lit up lawn moulds and others had Nativity scenes; those were grandma's favorite.

Now as we were getting close to downtown my grandpa made a comment that dealt with a bathroom break. This meant to me and Jason the ride was over, and it normally would have been. But my grandma having too much fun reminded grandpa she was always prepared for an emergency. That was one thing grandma was always ready for an emergency.

My grandma's purse was a Mary Poppins's bag. Meaning, my grandma had everything, including, band aids, tissues, gum, camphor phenique, her checks, a few family photos, Tums, (grandpa had to have them on a regular basis), peppermint candy, a Swiss army knife and this collapsible cup for drinking water. That was just her purse! She also kept a gallon of water in the back seat floor board for drinking along with a coffee can if you had to pee.

My grandpa was feeling one of those moments for the coffee can. As soon as grandpa got us down town grandpa stopped and let us get out so we could see the store fronts of big De Leon, Texas. While he went to the alley to do other as they say.

Lights and garland went across the main street, while lit garland trees, Santa's and stars hung off each light post in town. The store fronts were decorated as if we belonged to a big city. It seemed that even the empty buildings had something in them.

Town was beautiful with the Christmas spirit. My grandma took her time like an aging Queen Elizabeth clutching her black purse with both of her hands, pushing her glasses up to take a closer look at the store fronts. We knew she was window shopping as we walked along.

After we went up one side of the street, we went back down on the other side eventually meeting grandpa back in the Mercury. We again assumed our sitting positions and grandpa had us off searching again for Christmas lights.

We had followed Main Street and were near Higginbotham's funeral home, which was just on the edge of town, when suddenly out of now where there were some big blue and red flashing lights. Something Jason and I didn't recall before. My grandma too enthralled with the sights of Christmas said, "I don't know where those lights are, but they sure are bright and pretty."

My grandpa always had one saying, "I'll be John Brown." He never cursed at least not in front of us kids. It was always, "I'll be John Brown." You knew just by the way he said it, what was exactly wrong.

This time it wasn't his usual fluster tone nor was it his, I've had enough tone. This time is the worried tone. He informed grandma those aren't Christmas lights that were flashing, but the police behind them. I have to say at this point my grandpa could have pulled into the funeral home parking lot most people would have, to be off the highway. Not my grandpa; no. He drove about a quarter mile down the highway and what does he do? He pulls into a ditch!

If you live in a small town you know how this works, especially, during the old days. Everybody knew everybody and when the police came up to the car it was like gossiping more than getting scolding for whatever you did. This was no exception. Grandpa got out of the car, something you don't do now days and met the policeman on the street.

Jason and I watched from the seat as grandma did nothing but wondered what they did wrong. As we watched we saw grandpa in his khaki pants, plaid shirt, his cowboy hat and jacket. He talked briefly then the policeman walked grandpa back to the car. This was bad! They didn't do that in the past, unless something bad was happening.

Remember, I told you it was like catching up with old times. Well, the policeman's mother went to church with grandma and he had to pop his head in and said hi to grandma. I don't know why grandma never asked why we were pulled over. I figured she was worried she was going to be the talk of the church and left it at that.

It turned out that the tail light was out on the car and the officer told grandpa to get it fix in the morning and also gave us permission to continue looking at lights. That's what small town America use to be like. Now days, as I stated earlier grandpa would be in jail for the way we were in the car. A ticket with a hefty fine for the tail light would have been the least of his troubles.

As grandpa still in the spirit of things tried to assure grandma we were fine and could continue on with the lights. My grandma on the other hand, still embarrassed about the whole situation made it clear; fun time was over.

My grandparents never went out like that ever again. It wasn't until I was driving that we took them out to see the lights. Every year, me and Jason would load them up in one of our cars and show them around town. Until their death we took them to see Christmas lights in town.

For me and Jason that was a memory of our grandparents we would never forget. They tried something. Perhaps something they would have never tried if it hadn't been for us kids.



Books by Carla Landreth
   http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=carla+landreth