Re: HAPPY HOLIDAYS

Patrick & Everyone;

That was a wonderful Christmas Message & I'm so glad that it was shared, it touched me in a special place because I was a single UnWed mother back when I was in my early 20's & it was gifts from people like that in the story who on many a Thanksgiving & Christmas made donations to churches with food for the food baskets & gifts for under the tree because after paying the rent & heat & clothes there wasn't much left over for presents for my 2 children so I know touched those families who were on the Receiving End of that family's anonymous gifts felt when their children were given brand new equipment to use & the other gifts which were given the years after that

I do hope that you'll reread the message or pass it on to others in these days of hard times & unemployment there are many who in times past may have been on the giving end but this year have found themselves on the receiving end due to no fault of their own & will consider maybe donating to the local churches & food banks & homeless shelters so that others may be blessed because there are needs all during the year not just during the holiday seasons

>From My Family to All of Your Families we wish you a very Merry Christmas, & a Joyous New Year

Have a BEAUTIFUL HOLIDAY!
Theresa Tillett

Have a Beautiful Day!
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Patrick Lacy wrote:

Hello Everyone,

I wanted to do something a little different for a Holiday message so I thought I'd send an inspirational story that touched me deeply.

Best wishes for a GREAT NEW YEAR!

PAT LACY

For the Man Who Hated Christmas

by Nancy W. Gavin

It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past ten years or so.

It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas--oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it--overspending... the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma---the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears.

It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.

Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them." Mike loved kids - all kids - and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition--one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.

As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there.

You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.

Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing to take down the envelope.

Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit will always be with us.

 

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Patrick Lacy, Branch Director
Nations Group USA
Ct. Loan Originator lic. # 115786

1224 Mill St.
 Unit B suite 3
 East Berlin, Ct. 06023
 860-301-4499   www.nfsite.com