This Saturday we are hosting, along with our next-door neighbours, a 'Cul-de-sac Christmas' open house in our home for those who live in and around us. My neighbour and I travelled house-to-house the other week with tins of goodies and an invitation to welcome the neighbours. I was reminded how many there are who are lonely and experiencing illness....several would have loved us to stay much longer and visit. I have asked myself... just how difficult is this to take a little time on a weekend to visit in a willing neighbour's home? Not very. And yet it is so appreciated by the lonely! My mind went back as it does every year to my favorite little story I have shared in previous blogs....favorite because it's a true story....and it is a poignant reminder that you never know who sits behind a door in your neighbourhood who is just waiting for someone to care enough to share some time with them. Below is that short story. Merry Christmas everyone!!!
He lived across the street from us, sometimes peering out from behind the curtain of his window, sometimes observing the neighbourhood activity from the front porch. Stan kept to himself – not unfriendly, but nevertheless aloof. He was elderly and He lived alone. No cars ever seemed to enter his driveway.
As Christmas was nearing, my husband and I took some Christmas goodies to Stan’s next-door neighbour – an elderly lady whom we hadn’t seen since the weather turned cold. She was overjoyed at our visit. We learned she was nursing her brother who was sick, “dying of cancer”, she whispered, as if to not let him hear from the next room where he lay in a bed. She spoke of deep faith in God and how He gives strength to the weary.
She also spoke of Stan and how she prayed for him. I felt uplifted and thankful she knew the Christ whose birth we celebrated. We could not know as we left her home that in a few short years I would stand by her hospital bed as she would die of the same disease as her brother.
The week grew busier as Christmas approached, but I could not glance at Stan’s house without feeling we must visit him as well. Christmas Eve arrived, and as this was a year b.k. (before kids), we did not have the same bustling activity that we have known since then. Though the fire was cozy, and home was comfortable, we bundled up and made the trek across the street.
There was a dim light in the window and the sound of the television from behind the door. The shuffle of slippered feet followed the doorbell. Stan opened the door and his face lit up as he looked at his young neighbours standing with goodies in hand, wanting to visit him on Christmas Eve. He welcomed us almost with disbelief.
I do not remember if his home had any Christmas decorations or gifts, but I do recall how sad I felt that Stan wore a shirt and tie, dressed up as if expecting company but no one had come. He told us he had a grown son, but the two of them had not spoken in years. The bitterness was evident in Stan’s voice as he abruptly stated his son 'does not come home for Christmas'. He talked and we listened as time slipped by. He thanked us with tears in his eyes as we left, and how thankful we were that we had crossed the street to see him, and perhaps given him the only gift he would receive for Christmas. A short time out of our life had meant the world to him. Stan did not live to see another Christmas.......
Years later, I still think of Stan especially on Christmas Eve. Travelling with our children to Grandma and Grandpa's house that’s always filled with laughter, food, and gifts, Stan has become my reminder. As we drive down city streets, my eyes wander to windows which are darkened, lit only by the flickering light of a television. I wonder what heartaches lie in that household, and if someone sits alone at Christmas and throughout the year, wishing someone would bring some light, some hope, into their world.
Stan reminds me that I’m as busy as the town of Bethlehem was, when a Saviour quietly arrived on the scene… too busy doing nothing of importance to notice the only thing that matters. Christ was so willing to step into our world in spite of an unfathomable sacrifice on his part. Yet shamefully, I am often too busy to step outside my world into someone else’s, even though the sacrifice is miniscule and the reward so rich.
.........We heard a faint knock on our door the Christmas morning after we visited Stan. There stood Stan shivering in the cold, almost breathless, cheeks red, and eyes glistening. He stretched out his withered, trembling hands to offer us a box of chocolates which he had obviously bought that morning at the variety store down the block. “Merry Christmas”, he said, clasping our hands. “God bless you. Thank you so much!”.
A simple box of chocolates….but Stan could not know that years later his gift to us has been of more infinite worth than any others we have received!
He knows my name
As the temperature has dipped below freezing several nights, I have felt guilty just leaving them to freeze to death when the degrees really plummet. Our tiny pond is not deep enough for them to make it. I figure that although we got our 80 cents worth out of these two, they have grown and persevered and deserve a chance to continue living (even if my husband thinks the larger of the two is the right size for frying).
Can you resist these beautiful models in the catalogue? Check out the 
My husband and I visited the breeders prior to taking our kids there and well......NEVER go and look at puppies unless you have decided beforehand you are getting one. We told the kids in November that if they were willing to pool their money from their newspaper routes along with ours, we would be able to afford a puppy for Christmas. They very excitedly agreed and we visited the breeders to choose our Christmas puppy. We chose the darkest in the litter. Nikki had been born on October 23rd 1997 . The breeder marked her head with a dab of red nail polish to signify she was 'taken'. She was still too young to leave her mother. 
I had fun on her first birthday. I had noticed the name and address of the owner of one of Nikki's sisters when we were signing some papers to purchase our puppy. The sister lived on the same street I grew up on so I had found the house and remembered where she lived. We would actually sneak peeks at her from time to time in her yard. On Nikki's first birthday, I snuck a doggie treat bag into the mailbox at this house with a happy birthday note for Nikki's sister along with our phone number. It was not long before the phone rang with a very excited person wanting to bring 'Sarah' over to meet her sister. What a reunion it was! The two stuck to each other like glue and pranced around our backyard together. I hated to see them part, and I regret that we did not keep in touch.
And now she has retired...yes she is a senior. Another bit of advice? Put aside money for your pet's pension years....it's going to cost you...big time. On top of the normal care of a dog...shots, checkups... there are special senior check-ups, various medications, senior food, and a charge for urine collection (unless you want to follow your dog around with a small container until she decides she has to go....then hope she doesn't miss and you don't spill it....take our advice...you don't want to do this). Nikki now has arthritis in her back legs and must take pain medication to enable her to manage the stairs. When people see her dart out the front door or take off after a rabbit, they don't believe us....but she really is arthritic. She just thinks she's still that pup with boundless energy. (Mhmmm...I can totally relate).
