Daddy's latest pic: We thank him for the memoirs!

A few weeks ago I posted one of Daddy’s email stories I preserved, probably from around 10 years ago, when Daddy was still exchanging email with the family.  I don’t know if that was was the first Clarke College Christmas and this one the second, or vice versa–maybe my Sister who stars in both of these stories can recall if she was old enough.

By the way, I am copy/pasting this piece just like we received the original email message–The first person narrative voice is his.  Also, Daddy was in his upper 70’s in those days, and his hunt-and-peck keyboarding always abounded with typos and mechanical errors.    We were just glad to get the messages–We wish we still got messages from him, in fact.  But for now, we will cherish this preserved memoir from the sixty or so years ago.

Daddy Tales–Clark College Christmas

Last night I had just about finished writing another   good memory experience when I was reminded  I had an important meeting to attend at the I lost the writing.  Let me try to share it with you  again.  I think of this  many times during the Christmas season.  It was one

of those  Christmas experiences  a person would like to have repeated  many times ,but unfortunately it does not happen the same  way ever again.

This was our first Christmas  at Clark Memoral Jr. College.  Janice was just over three years old and Buster  was barely dry from birth.

WE hav a very active BSU  at Clarke.  Mr Farmer was really into it and gave great leadership and challenge to the  students.

In the days right after  Thanksgiving,  the BSU council  challenged the student body to  set a very high goal for our  part in the Lottie Moon

Christmas Offering for Foreign  Missions.  To reach that goal we were asked to make some sacrifices.  We were assked to say to our families at home  to

send us the money they would  spend on our  Christmas  gift  in place of thegift  and this money would be given  to the  Mission Offering.   We did that

and gave  the money  tothe offering,even the money were to use for gifts for Janice and Buster.  Their gifts were not going to be that  great  because we

did not have much to get gifts with. $ 125 a month does not allow for manyextras.

We did not plan to go home for  Christmas  because we did not have the money for the trip  and we also had to go  up to Mt.Pisgas church on the

weekend.  During the days off of school I along with some of the other students,had an opportunity to do some work  around campus to earn a little extra

change.  In the midst of all that was going on, there was an unusally  high

sense of Christmas and the birth of our Savior.  There was a quiet peace, and hap;piness among the students  and  their families  on campus.  There was a

lot of sharing what you might have with one of the other fmilies that did not have much.

In the midst of all that was going on  a person could feel Christmas, it was  a feeling   such as I have never had since.

The event that really put the icing on the cake for me  was  the actions of our next -door -neighbors.  They were a couple just a little older

than Mama and me.  They had  been married for quite a few years but had no children of their own and theymore or less adopted Janice and Buster.  Well

,Christmas morning  there was a knock on our door.  When we answered it was our neighbors  coming to bring gifts to Janice and Buster.  ,Through the

years I have many times  in my own mind relived that  Christmas morning and remembering the gift this couple had for Janice,but cannot for the life of me

,remember what they had for  Buster.  Ofcourse,he was a little baby ,so naturally  his gift was something suitable . But Janice’s gift was ababy doll

about twelve inches tall and when those people came in with those gifts  , as I have said , a feeling came over me that I had never exoperienced before

,nor since.  It was what Christmas was all about,love and people thinking  of others and sharing .  I cannot remember the names of that couple, but the

memory of the gifts that couple  brought to my children will never be forgotten.

And that ‘s the end of the story