Tomorrow we stop and reflect on all of the blessings we have. The richest of these blessings is life. We will break bread with family, friends, and hopefully the stranger in our midst. Old grievances must evaporate and hope must rule.

Bearers of Light…we are if we will receive the calling. Dispelers of sadness…dryers of tears…is our mission. Often the saddest of people smile the broadest.

The Christ Child is calling our name. He was born in low circumstances, and the day’s religions took no notice of the special event. Our bodies deteriorate but our souls are ageless. Let Thanksgiving be a communion of souls who need a friend.

The heart sees a bit better than the eyes at times. Let us see each other through the kaleidoscope of love…

It was a bright November morning. ‘We are going to Grandma A’s for Thanksgiving,’ Billy B said.

‘I am coming along don’t forget…I will bring the Oscar Mayer Weiners,’ Chet said with a smile.

‘I hope President Kennedy is alright in Texas…it is said that they do not like him down there,’ Neva J wondered aloud. ‘He is the best President of my life…at times I think that he may be better than FDR if given a second term…you know FDR was elected four times,’ Neva J continued.

‘Dad says that he likes Goldwater from Arizona for President,’ said Jane. ‘I think Jackie is beautiful,’ she added.

‘Rosie has framed pictures of both President Kennedy and then of the President and Jackie on her living room wall,’ Chet added. ‘Mom says that she likes Kennedy but not well enough to put a photo of him on the wall,’ Chet said with a sigh.

‘I can not wait for that Turkey and dressing…oyster dressing…and a piece of my Famous Coffee Cake,’ Neva J laughed when she thought of her baking prowess.

President Kennedy will get us out of Vietnam…he will withdraw our troops and our boys can come home…he is for Peace,’ Rosie said with tears in her eyes.

‘President Kennedy has been shot in a motorcade in Dallas,’ Walter Cronkite said on a Newbreak on CBS.

Time stopped…

I was listening to a piece in the Washington Post where the author was commiserating regarding how much she knew when she was 33 and what she knew at 69. She mentioned that when she was 33 she often celebrated a profound event by going out to eat and now at 69 she might skip flossing in honor of the special occasion or skip her hip exercise for one night. Her words have more truth than I realized when I was 33. We had high plans for driving to St. Charles, Missouri on Black Friday. Upon reflection, we decided to shop locally and enjoy lunch at one of our many wineries.

Local means more to me each year. Businesses are closing faster than you can say White Christmas in our town and the reason is not exactly clear. I am wondering if our poor Mall which is but a shadow of its former self will still put up its Christmas decorations. I love the little family-owned businesses. A place where you can see and touch and try on what you are pondering purchasing.

I miss the business owner who knew my name and cared that I came into their store. Giant City Lodge still has that family feel. It is operated by a wonderful family and they remember me Jonathon and Aaron and seem always glad to see us. Cricket And Red Brick Antique Store is another local business where I always feel welcome.

Most of the Holiday accouterments are bought…I picked up some Kalua for White Russians and sourdough bread for the table. Families will gather on Thursday. Many will take the celebration for granted. Many have a refined palate and require only the best of Thanksgiving delectable. Many will wonder how it feels to sit at a Table Of Plenty…

Laughter will be in large supply…and the enjoyment of family and friends… The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade will be on TV…and football after the feast…sleep will play with our eyelids and we will think how blessed we are.

Some will sit alone on a heating grate and open a can of pork and beans or perhaps a McDonald’s Hamburger…and give thanks for the goodness of God…

Five days till Thanksgiving. Shopping local this year. A winery for lunch. Christmas Tree on Saturday. It seems like this just happened, but it was a year ago. Last year I was so pleased to have attained senior citizen status…now I am on my way to 70…

Jonathon and I were talking with our friend at Giant City Lodge and he mentioned that he would turn 66 this year and Jonathon said, ‘Just like Dad.’ Then when he heard that Jonathon was almost 40 he noted that his daughter is the same age. We were happy to be on the right side of the dirt…

The Holidays provide us pause. We have time to reflect on our past and our future. We think about what we might do differently in the New Year. Santa Claus gives joy to millions at the simple thought of him. He provides gifts for all of the good girls and good little boys. A lot of us do not receive gifts often. We travel through the year with many dark clouds just over our heads. What will we eat for dinner…can we stay warm in the cold…who will love us…

John Lennon told us in song, ‘So it is Christmas and what have you done…another year older and a new one just begun.’ Soon the bell of life tolls. We hear the small ring before it gets louder and louder and louder. We deny the sound but we know it. We want to spend another Christmas with our loved ones…how will they proceed without us…who will drink the Dirty Martinis?

‘So you have arrived at your destination,’ He said.

‘I have no luggage and nothing in my pockets, You said.

‘Here is the list of those who you helped on their journey,’ Doorman said.

‘The list is blank…it is a blank sheet of paper…this must be a mistake,’ He said.

‘No mistake…the lack of record is accurate…please take a chair in the Waiting Room….’ Doorman said.

‘The Preacher is a captivating speaker, He said. ‘His words were like a balm for my soul, He continued.

‘Preacher likes fish…I saw him take seconds on our fish dinner and he asked for more mashed potatoes,’ She said.

‘His group was friendly and not pushy like so many in Christianity seem to be these days,’ He mused.

‘Sad Tom was there and told me that he felt much better after listening to the Preacher’s words,’ Chet offered. ‘I enjoyed his theories of how we should love each other as we love ourselves,’ Chet continued.

‘Matilda told me that he does not have his own church but that he preaches on the street corners of Chicago to the homeless and after the sermon he feeds everyone that was in the audience…with no visible means of doing so…it is a mystery like so many questions surrounding him, Jane said.

‘It is going to be cold for Thanksgiving…I saw a man the other day sleeping on a sheet of ice and people passed by him on both sides,’ Chet offered.

‘Well…I would invite him to our church but his clothes are a bit rough as our his assistants…they all appear to be blue collar with rough faces and tattoos and some have nose and lip piercings,’ Neva J explained. ‘I heard him say that he did not have a place to lay his head,’ She mentioned.

‘Preacher looks like a man who has seen the world…his eyes are sad but his voice is like the sound of the Ocean…his touch like the kiss of my mother when she tucked me in at night…like hope for the hopeless,’ Jane said as tears coursed down her cheeks.

‘I heard him say that the future of the Earth depended on just a few people caring about each other and helping their neighbors,’ She said. ‘Did you see Old Abagail who is missing an eye…open the dry socket of her missing eye and show all who wanted to look that she now had a brand new eye,’ She asked?

‘I assumed it must be a glass eye…eyes do not grow back…and she stinks,’ They said. ‘Perhaps the Preacher should have materialized a bar of Lifeboy Soap for her as well,’ They said with a smirk.

‘We all stink if we do not have the facilities to wash in…often in well less than a day,’ She answered.

‘I spoke with him after his speech and he said he was tired…so many of the Christians do not want him around and when he does enter one of their churches and sits on the back pew he is more often than not asked to leave do to his appearance,’ Chet sadly whispered.

‘He cried when asked about peace on earth…and said in a hushed tone that it was up to us…,’ Billy B said.

‘Grandma A spoke of Armageddon and the Last Days like she had seen them personally,’ Billy B said as he thought of today’s problems. ‘She told me that the blood would flow up to the horse’s bridle…and I had to look up bridle to know what she was speaking of,’ he continued.

‘Well…many of the old-time gospel folks took what the Bible said literally and transferred the scripture to current events, Chet mused. ‘When I was but a lad preachers told us that the End Times were upon us…and we were sore afraid,’ he added.

‘Rome was the most powerful nation of its time and yet it fell,’ Neva J said with some knowledge acquired of her voracious reading.’ ‘Edgar Cayce and Nostradamus wrote of calamity coming,’ she continued.

‘It has been postulated that if time travel is real we may indeed have visitors from the future and the past as well,’ Chet said. ‘Perhaps they are some of those people that you experience de ja vu when you see them…,’ he noted.

‘Could it be that the circular theory of time has some validity…that we are living a bit on a phonograph record and what we experience…has been experienced before,’ Jane asked? ‘Cults are bad but are there prophets in our midst that are not attempting to control people or fleece them of their finances,’ she added.

‘When I visited Oxford University I had a distinct feeling that I had been there before,’ Billy B said. ‘The building and grounds and even the Pubs were familiar to me…yet I had never been there…,’ he explained.

‘Perhaps the End Times are a bit longer than our measurement of time,’ Chet offered.

‘Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, and the worst Are full of passionate intensity.

‘Surely the Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert A shape with a lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, is moving its slow thighs, while all about it fell shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And the rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?…,’ said the woman washing dishes in the White House… W.B. Yeats

It is a holiday around the Brooks Ranch. Aaron’s Birthday! Forty-two years ago today I was a nervous nessy. About an hour ago and 42 years MJ and I welcomed Mr. Aaron into our lives…we have never been the same…in a good way! I was in the delivery room and the doctor told me, ‘Mr. Brooks if you want to see your son born you had better stand up. I did and was I ever elated! He cried in a lusty take charge manner. Soon I visited him in the nursery with his little blue navy cap on his head and the nurse overseeing the babies told me that he has a lot of character…

Aaron is a joy and a blessing to his mom and brother and me. He knows what he wants and he goes after it with gusto. Aaron is an artist and a photographer and a leader of men! He likes a scary movie and we recently watched The Enfield Poltergist and mused as to what is around us that we can not see with our eyes.

Aaron is a lover of all things Maine. We just finished our sixth visit to Maine and hope to go again next year. He was in his element on the sailing exursion that we enjoyed and struck up quite a conversation with our Captain to the extent that the Cap bought him a beer.

Aaron does the lion’s share of the driving in Maine…making my holiday that much more enjoyable. He brought us a dozen doughnuts over the weekend…and My-O-My were they delicious!

The nice lady who we purchased Aaron’s birthday cake from asked when she looked at the 4 and the 2 if it was 24 or 42…I started to tell her that I was 42 today. How the years fly by!

Aaron is the age that when I was 42 I thought how old that I had become…litte did I know…

As Josh Brolin’s character in No Country For Old Men told the lady by the pool at the hotel who had beer… when asked what he kept looking over his shoulder for, ‘I am looking for what is coming.’ You may recall that in the next scene, he is dead. It can be said that we are all looking for what is coming. In fact, we are looking back for what is coming. It has. been said that the past is a prologue.

A United States Senator invited a person testifying before a committee he was sitting on to a fistfight. A Presidential Candidate calls those who disagree with him ‘Vermin’ which is taken directly from the words of Adolf Hitler. Yes…we are all looking back to see what is coming…

I watch the little children helped by the Shriners Organization…their positive outlook on life and their radiant smiles cause me to look forward with hope. There are wonderful people in our world and many of them!

The natural beauty of our woods and wildlife is breathtaking. If you need rest…the woods is a good place to be. You may have sung the old spiritual Peace In The Valley. Indeed the woods provide in some measure the words of the song, ‘No sadness or suffering or crying do I see.’

Inner Peace provides outer peace. The more centered and balanced that you are in your heart and mind…the more peaceful your life will be. I have known people who will argue if the Sun rises each morning and sets each evening. If you say it is cold they will respond that it is not as cold as it was when they were a child. Of course, some of these folks hiked to school through three feet of snow and hiked back home through four feet…and both directions were uphill.

‘I simply can not and will not believe what the scientists are saying,’ Neva J said as she poured another glass of Merlot. ‘I have been hearing about the end of the world and the last days and the Battle of Armageddon since I was a little girl and it has not happened yet,’ she continued.

‘Do you recall Abigail when we were in the group that believed she had traveled back in time 40 years and had knowledge of medicines that we do not have as well as predictions about what was coming looking forward,’ Chet asked?

‘I remember that Abigail said that the end would come when the world was at its zenith of pleasure and it would happen so quickly most would never know what hit them,’ Billy B said with a look of fear in his eyes. ‘She went on to claim that she was the mother of the President but she was much younger than him,’ Jane mused.

‘Abigail told us to ask the President if remembers what she used to tell him each night when she tucked him into bed,’ Chet commented with his eyes shut.

‘Ring Around the Rosie…pockets full of posies…ashes…ashes…we all fall down,’ said the President as he entered his secure bunker…

‘A soft answer turns away wrath, But a harsh word stirs up anger,’ the Bible tells us. This would be contrary to human nature and to our current political environment. The rhetoric of politicians seems to have no basement. Referring to each other and the other political party in the most demeaning of terms and words… is considered strong Christianity in some circles. It appears that we have divided ourselves into little encampments of folks who look like us and think like us and worship like us…and have decided to shun and punish those who are different than us.

Punishing seems to be the new normal. Let us get them before they get us. We are God’s elect and the rest are but chaff on the threshing floor that the wind blows away. That seems comforting to the narrow mind and closed heart until some of that Chaff reaches out a hand of assistance to us when our Tribe forgot us.

As we see others who are different than us…often we are looking at them from the wrong end of the binoculars. From our obstructed view we see those whom we do not know as very small and obscure. When we turn the binoculars around the family that we see is enhanced and large and the twinkle in their eyes and the smiles on their faces are in High definition.

Critical or Compassionate…that is the choice. Mean thoughts are easy to think…they often come naturally. Good thoughts and loving ideas are a daily practice of the heart…

‘I swear the Christmas lights and decorations in Eldorado are unparalleled,’ said Neva J! ‘I do not recall Chicago being any more festive than our little Southern Illinois town,’ she continued.

‘I think that I am receiving the miniature pool table from Western Auto this Christmas,’ Billy B said. ‘Neva J asked me where I was going to set it up and I replied in my bedroom of course. ‘Then she mused how they would get to the bathroom as they often cut through my two open door holes…that was without doors to facilitate a shortcut to the water closet,’ Billy B grinned.’ ‘I said that the extra steps would be good for her…which she frowned at,’ he concluded.

‘Well, with your little Black and White TV and a billiard table you will have your own apartment,’ Chet winked. ‘How about the Daniel Boone Action Figure…did you find one at the Ben Franklin Dime Store,’ Chet asked?

‘When we did not have the money for the Daniel Boone figure when he was there and now that Neva J has it in her Christmas Budget…he is gone,’ Billy B said with a frown. ‘Nevertheless, after I saw the movie The Hustler with Jackie Gleason playing the legendary pool shark Minnesota Fats…I have been hooked on shooting pool,’ he noted. ‘You recall when we were at the Eldorado Billards Hall that we thought that we saw Minnesota playing in the back of the Hall…it is my dream to play him on my new miniature pool table once I receive it for Christmas,’ Billy B exulted!

‘Minnesota Fats is big time…he was not at the Eldorado Pool Hall…that was Fleshy Frank who is our local Pool Hustler,’ Chet laughed. ‘I think that he lives in Hollywood or perhaps in New York City,’ Chet remarked.

‘He lives in Dowell, Illinois and it is about 50 miles from Eldorado and just outside DuQuoin, Billy B said. ‘He has two Cadillacs parked in his driveway,’ he continued.

‘You remind me of Paul Newman’s character in The Hustler…you are too good for old Fats…I am known as the best…but I can not master Mini-Pool,’ Fats said…