Christmas 2020—YAY or YIKES? … Whew! What a year it has been, to say the least… and I mean the very least. Pandemic. Economic shut down. School shut down. Church shut down. Quarantining with our people. Masks. Stage one opening. Stage two opening. Back to stage one opening. School re-opening with a virtual option. The election of the century. Good night! I’ve never seen anything like it! It makes me wonder, can something as regular as celebrating Christmas be a valid option this year? … Well, my friends, I’m just going to go ahead and claim Christmas as a YES!
Believe it or not, there is such a thing as before the internet. There is such a thing as before Walmart. That “before” in my hometown of Atlanta, Texas, was and is Price Hardware. It’s a store in the old part of town; you know, the part of town unknown to travelers that pass through on US Highway 59. For seventy-four years, Price Hardware has been a staple in this small Texas town. It’s a place to buy nuts, bolts, garden hoses, and sandpaper. It’s also the place to have spare keys made: many, many spare keys. I refuse to point fingers on that one.
Bridger and I met at Texarkana College in 2007 and eventually began dating. We were married in 2012 and moved to Baton Rouge, where we lived while Bridger earned his Veterinary degree at LSU. We moved to Northeast Texas in 2015 for his first job. Towards the end of that year, we began talking about starting a family. We always wanted children. We had been married three years, had stable jobs, and a wonderful church family. It was practical and made sense. … A few months later, on Easter Sunday 2016, we were out eating with some friends after church.
Being THANKFUL means giving thanks for something that was given to you. … Being GRATEFUL means to appreciate what you have compared to what you want. … November… the eleventh month of the year, a time of transition from summer to fall, a month of anticipation–holiday festivities, family celebrations, and the countdown to a new year… leaving the old behind and stepping into the new, a time for thankfulness and gratefulness.
Circumstances have never been tilted in my favor, or so I always thought. … Even at a young age, I felt like the odd man out. I never felt I belonged and knew that I was somehow exceptional. Of course, it would take years to figure out exactly how I was unique, but I was unique none the less. I doubt my story differs much from thousands of others, but today I know that I have a voice that can help others know they are not alone. … I was born and raised right here in the Ark-La-Tex. Like many, I had a divided family.
If someone had told the younger, teenage version of me I would one day be doing this, I probably would not have believed them. As a self-proclaimed country girl, growing up in Cass County, I was only familiar with the Pine Country Bulletin and The Citizen’s Journal. Nonetheless, I remember always taking the time to check out the local stories and photos published each week. Any vague plans I may have had to become a nurse would never have prospered as I have discovered needles scare me to death, and I have always had a mind that never stops dreaming of new ideas and stories to tell.
“I love your mask!” “I love yours too!” … My dermatologist and I greeted each other as she entered the exam room wearing a facemask by the same designer as the one I wore. … Hers, of course, was just for cosmetic purposes, and covered an N95 mask like most of the physicians wear. Mine was acting alone, but it did offer the added protection of a coffee filter between its layers.
Located in the middle of a hunter’s paradise right outside of Bradley, Arkansas and situated on the waterfront of Lake Erling, lies Belle Terre Hunting Estate. It is a one of a kind refuge and provides an incredible opportunity of solitude and outdoor sportsmanship for the Pruett family.
People ask me every day why I became a funeral director. … My answer is always, “I didn’t choose it, it chose me.” I truly believe that this profession requires a calling by God and a compassion for people. I see funeral service as a ministry, one that began for me as a child. … When I was eight years old, I lost two grandparents suddenly within twelve days of each other. I remember vivid fragments from each death experience. From that time on, death intrigued me, and I regularly checked the obituaries as if I were an eighty-year-old woman looking for gossip.