January 25, A Special Day for Writers

Today is a special day. It is the feast day of Saint Francis De Sales, patron saint of Journalists and Writers. St. Francis himself was a great writer, along with scholar, and holy man of God. His many books and quotes are filled with inspiring words to reflect on and live by. He is also a Doctor of the Church.

Pray for us, St. Francis De Sales, that as writers we may write well, and for the glory of God!



Favorite Carol Survey

The sounds of the season never cease to warm our hearts. From classic hymns to yuletide anthems, it seems everyone has at least one Christmas carol that, no matter where they are, spurs them to break into song.

The Missy Times wants to know: Which carol is your favorite?

Thank you to all our friends who've already submitted their answers. You can post yours as a comment below. We look forward to the nominations yet to come!

The Newest Missy Times

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"What About This One?"

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Honest Abe

Turkey Found Frozen in the Refridgerator, Grandmother Steps in to Save the Day

Life Is Good Spreads Optimism

Christmas Carol Survey

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Check your mailboxes!

The Sights of Light-Up Night: a Never Before Published Article

                                    The Sights of Light-Up Night    

The Friday after Thanksgiving was bitterly cold. The icy wind blew through the early winter night air, biting the cheeks and fingers of anyone who dared to go out in it. The black dome of the sky was covered with clouds, not a star shone up above.

     You might wonder why anyone would want to be outside in these conditions, but there actually were tens, maybe hundreds of people out around town on this very night in Beaver Pennsylvania. No, the residents of our small town are not crazy. It’s not a habit of ours to be out in freezing 20 degree weather in the dark. On the contrary, most of the time, most people would much prefer to be shut inside their nice, warm houses. But, besides being Black Friday, this November 26^th marked a very special once in a lifetime (actually once in a year) occasion. It was Beaver’s annual Light-Up Night, and I observed it firsthand.

      At about twenty after six, armed with gloves, hats, and scarves, we walked up to Third Street just in time to catch a glimpse of the parade, which was very interesting, to say the least. The floats, band, cars and carriages would process down the street and then turn around and make a loop so that, at times, the parade was going in two different directions! It was very entertaining. After the parade had ended, we started to look around.

      True to its name, Light-Up Night was quite full of lights. All of Main Street was aglow. The Christmas lights that were strung on the trees in October were finally lit. The windows of the storefronts were all dressed up with holiday decorations beckoning you inside and luminaries lined the sidewalk.

      Clusters of people filtered in and out of the open stores, viewing the merchandise, watching the live models in the Shirley Shop, listening to the orchestra students from Beaver as they moved from store to store, and some, even eating at one of the restaurants.

The Borough offered free hot chocolate and donuts, while down at the historical museum’s log cabin, costumed volunteers served homemade cookies and hot apple cider cooked over a warm fire.

     After we had seen all the sights of Light-Up Night, we walked back home to our warm house and went to bed. What a wonderful job Beaver did, yet again, putting on such a festive event.

This post is from November, 2010

Shame on You, Old Man Winter

                                            

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

What have you done with our sun?

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

For clouding our blue sky.

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

You creep through the cracks of our homes

And whistle through the trees.

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

For taking away our sun,

Our hands are chapped

Our skin goose-bumped

Our coats forever buttoned.

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

For taking away our sun

The light is gone

Our days are dark

Even the moon hides.

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

For taking away our sun

The streets are damp

The grass dead

The plants shriveled and brown

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

For taking away our sun

Shame on you.

Finding Rawly (the rest of the story, part 2)

The following is a continued segment of The Missy Times story, "Finding Rawly":

Although I was missing the meet-and-greet with Stewart, I still had hope that I would find a dog that weekend.  Near my sister's house was a puppy and kitten shelter called "Love at First Sight". Love at First Sight takes young animals from local people whose pets have had unexpected litters and gives them a chance to be adopted. "Maybe you'll find your puppy here!" Maria always told me. Wouldn't that be just perfect, I thought to myself.

The night we arrived in Nashville we stopped and looked in the shop's window. The cinder-block walls were a soft purple and the floors a clean white tile. The light from the parking lot fell across the floor, onto the little crates where the puppies were sleeping. I could see their furry bodies rhythmically moving up and down as they dozed. One even lifted his head and looked at us. I was giddy from head to toe. Collie/Beagle mixes? Brown Feists? No one could tear me away from that window. I could feel it inside. One of these might be "The One". We agreed to come back the next day to meet them, and reluctantly, I walked back to the car.

So Saturday morning we headed off to Love at First Sight-- wait, no, scratch that. FIRST we went to mass at the nearby St. Cecilia motherhouse; THEN we went to Maria's farmers market. That's where the next important event in this story takes place. As we made our way around the booths, each filled with abundant produce: radishes, pumpkins, kale, tomatoes, etc.,  I had my eyes peeled for puppies, because after all, they were on my mind. And one suddenly appeared out of nowhere! A woman was standing with her little beagle- mix puppy, a ten-week old named Caleb whom she had adopted from Love at First Sight! I petted him, let him lick my face and marveled at just how good-natured he was. Naturally my heart skipped a beat when I was informed the dog needed a new home. A new home..... daughter was allergic......really good dog......, these were the words I picked out of the conversation. All thoughts of Stewart and those sweet puppies at Love at First Sight left my mind. It was 'love at first sight', and I wanted this pooch! Caleb seemed like a true God-send-- what was the chance we would meet this woman who just happened to be there with her dog whom she needed to re-home? We wouldn't have to go through the whole adoption process; he was already crate and semi-house trained; and had a good start to his life. He wasn't quite the puppy I'd had in mind for myself, but I loved him. And it was meant to be, right?

The next 24 hours were a whirlwind at best. Decisions were made and details worked out. First the family wasn't sure if they wanted to break the contract they'd made with veterinary hospital. Then the kids were hesitant to send the puppy so far away. Then we weren't sure if nine hours in the car would be good for Caleb. Then the mother mentioned a bacteria infection he'd had less than a week before. But in the end,  it was unanimous. The dog would come home with the Koshute family. I was so excited, finally, we'd found our dog.

Sunday morning we went to visit with Caleb's family one last time before picking him up; what we saw was amazing. We saw him through new eyes. He would not stop running around our ankles, licking our feet or jumping up. His face was not as cute as I'd remembered, and deep down in my heart there was an awful twinge of doubt. My father, already in disbelief that we were actually getting a dog, looked like he was going to faint. Driving back to Maria's apartment, Mom turned to me and said, "Missy, are you sure that's the dog for you?" I knew it wasn't.

Dejected and discouraged, though oddly at peace, I packed up my things to go home. Mom called Caleb's owner and told her the news. We were back to square one. No dog.

Then I remembered Stewart-- was he still available? I checked Petfinder, and indeed, he was. A call to the shelter and we had our appointment for that following Wednesday. My spirits were lifted. I'd asked the Lord that if Stewart was the right dog, would He please save him for us? And he did. He'd guided us out of choosing Caleb and led us back to Stewart. Perhaps he was meant for me after all!

Stay tuned for the next and final installment of Rawly's story!

Coming Soon!

Articles to look forward to in your next Missy Times!

Finding Rawly

No Struggle for "The Struggle Tour"

Editor Classifies Game Types

The Value of Books