Christmas Greetings 2021

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Christmas Greetings

Editor’s Note: Storytelling by Enterprise readers is one of our favorite holiday traditions. So grab a cup of hot cocoa and snuggle

under a warm blanket to enjoy poems, memoirs and short fiction by your friends and neighbors. There are tales to make you feel grateful, to remember and to be hopeful. Thank you to our contributors!

Lily’s Christmas present stabilized her conditions, so the neurosurgeon was (This is a true story, transferring her care to only the name “Lily” had the ICU. When “Lily” arrived at been changed for confithe ICU and was transdentiality.) ferred to her bed, I was On a snowy, December immediately struck by two day in 1983, I was working things. One, she had minas a registered nurse in an imal injuries on her body, intensive care unit (ICU) but she had swelling and in Colorado. My shift injuries around her head had just started, when I and face; and two, she had received a call from the beautiful, long, red hair. emergency room; I was to She just looked so peacereceive a patient, a young ful, lying on the bed all girl of 17, who had crashed bundled up in white. her car on a slippery I spoke with the neumountain road. She ended rosurgeon to get a betup submerged in the river. ter feel for her prognoHelp came quickly, how- sis. He said her electrical ever, she sustained a activity of the brain (EEG) head injury and was in was almost “normal.” His a coma. The E.R. nurses hopes were that when the had warmed her up and swelling went down, she

would awaken, and start to recover. Over the next several days, I tenderly cared for Lily, along with my coworkers. I also hummed Christmas songs (a bad habit of mine), while I tended to her needs. Her family was allowed to have only brief visits, and her mother placed a

To see the King

The Christmas letter

By Elizabeth Vrudny Registered nurse, Menahga

By Evelyn Hawn Park Rapids

spread out in all directions around the glowing I was sitting at the city, rumpled and soft table, eating dinner with and dark. But, of course, the my parents when Abdul highlight of any night in crashed through the door, panting and wav- Persia was the stars. They were spread out ing a fistful of parchacross the night sky ments in the air. like a thousand dropIt was a hot, humid lets of white ink on a night outside. The city black parchment. They streets were still thick were bright, like lamps with the smell of the scattered throughout a spices that had been sold dark field. They told stoin the market earlier ries, and if you looked that day, but now fire- at them close enough, light and flickering oil if you documented their lamps filled the build- movements and spent ings of the city as night years staring at their fell in earnest. The moon shimmering faces, you was a crescent this eve- could discover truly ning and, as usual, not incredible things. a cloud was to be seen Like this. in the blackened sky. The gentle desert sands KING: Page B4

Reflecting on a wonderful life A year later, we were married, cutting our Christmas is special to own Christmas tree and most people. It brings planning our life togethback memories of child- er. In the next few years, hood and that special, we were watching our once-in-a-lifetime gift babies as they played from Mom and Dad or with their Christmas Grandma and Grandpa... toys. Life was good. We days gone by that can made colorful blocks not be recaptured except from odds and ends of in our memories. lumber, made sleds for Christmas eve 1965 the kids to ride on and was extra special to me hung colorful chains of because my husband paper on the tree. proposed to me that LIFE: Page B5 night. By Jean Avenson Park Rapids

By Kay Dyre Park Rapids It is said that the devil finds work of idle hands. Few hands are more idle than mine lately and I am more than happy to give the devil his due for the project I found myself struggling with in early December. From somewhere I got the notion to write my own Christmas letter to family and friends. This was precipitated by my totally inexplicable finding of some pretty Christmas stationery in a kitchen drawer. The paper was 9 by 11 with a birchbark look and edged with green pine boughs, red ribbons and holly leaves; very festive, but not gaudy. It was only later that I realized how thoroughly I’d been suckered in. This “magic find” gave me a chance to: A. Waste not; B. Be creative and personal; C. Save money by not having to “buy anything!” My spirit soared. (The devil smiled.) Everything you do as a senior is a serious struggle. It takes longer, tests your abilities and resolve, and turns out to be less than you hoped for or intended. But you carry on. Before long, I had my message ready. I wanted it to be simple, informative, warm and sincere and it was. Part 1 was done. Party 2 would transfer my message to a master copy which would be reproduced by my fax machine, inserted into

A special supplement by the Wednesday, December 22, 2021

photo of her at the top of her headboard. There was that same beautiful, young girl with the red hair. On Dec. 24, there were no signs in Lily’s status towards awakening. The other staff and I, along with her family, were getting discouraged. I spoke with her physician. He said he was still optimistic she would recover. He told me to pray, and initiated some changes in care. He informed me her condition had improved, so that she could now have more frequent visitors, and I would be allowed to wash her hair. Excited at the prospect of changes, I headed to

addressed envelopes and sent on its way. I smiled. (The devil giggled.) My typewriter is old, seldom used, never maintained and full of dust, dirt, eraser chaff and cookie crumbs, but it is at least electric. However, it wasn’t typing clearly or cleanly. The letter wheel was dirty and out of alignment. I had no idea how to fix that. Good, old German bullheadedness would have to carry me through the challenge once more. Two days later, with the sacrifice of many hours and my personal toothbrush, I got the wheel cleaned and printing properly. It turned out that the devil was not the only one helping me with my project. Murphy and his Law were right there beside him. I had no idea what the phrase “anything that can go wrong, will go wrong” might include. Turns out, it was a lot. It was the correction tape that failed me next. It took some deep digging through desk drawers and cupboards to finally find a set of those slippery devils. You DO NOT want to drop either of those snarly reels, but I did, of course. Nonetheless, I was finally actually able to produce some readable print. Amazing. Many wasted pages of stationery later, I finally had a master copy to try in my printer. I carefully loaded the paper tray, inserted my copy, checked all the possible options, and pushed START. Sure enough, a copy emerged.

the family waiting room for help. Her grandmother was the only one present, so I recruited her. The two of us washed, unsnarled and combed her mass of hair. While I attended to another patient, her grandmother dried and braided her hair. When I returned, she looked like a new person. I was ending my shift, about 11 p.m., and I was anxious to get home and join my husband for Christmas service. As I was walking out the door, her IV alarm went off. As I reset it, I placed my hand on her forehead and wished her a “Merry Christmas.”

LILY: Page B6

Clear, neat and on the wrong side of the stationery. (Some chuckling heard; not mine.) I refilled the paper tray, took a deep breath, and again hit START. Three loud BEEPS sounded and a message appeared in the message box. My magenta was empty. Say, what?? I soon learned one ink cartridge was empty and no printing would happen without it. That would require a trip to town and I’m no longer a driver. I admit it. I cried. Two days later, my nerves were calmed as my elves had brought me a new set of ink cartridges and a new toothbrush. The final push began. I glanced at the calendar. December 12. It was now or never for my project to succeed. I had addressed the envelopes so only the message was left to print. I hit START for what I prayed would be the final time, and waited. Slowly but surely, 20 neatly printed pages piled up on the desk before me. They were perfect. Or, as we seniors often must say, “Close enough!” I sighed in relief and just shut my eyes and stood quietly for a prayerful moment. Then, just as I looked up, I swear I caught a glimpse of two thumbs up hovering in the distance. All I could say was, “Merry Christmas, guys! I couldn’t have done it without you!” “The Christmas Letter” is an excerpt from Kay Dyre’s book, “Just Another Senior Surprise: A Treatise on Aging.”


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y r e v a u o y h We wis n o s a e s y a d i l Happy Ho , l u f e c a e p a and s u o r e p s o r p d heal thy an Ne w Year!

! s y a d i ol H y p p a H


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Christmas Greetings

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The baby of Roaring Camp By Dave Dwyer Park Rapids In 1868, Bret Harte published one of his best known Western short stories about a baby boy born in a northern California gold mining town named Roaring Camp. Roaring Camp easily lived up to its name. All the men in that little town had headed for the California gold fields with dreams of striking it rich and making a better life for themselves. They were a rough bunch. Some of them were even possibly fugitives from the law. They worked hard. They were tough. They talked big. Cursing was the common form of communication. Strong booze was the drink of choice. Gambling and fighting were nightly highlights at the local bars. Every man in that town was focused on themselves and getting all they could get and then getting out of town and on to the next place as soon as possible. But things were about to change. Up river from Roaring Camp was another rough mining town called Red Dog. A huge thunderstorm higher in the mountains earlier in the evening had brought the North Fork River to flood stage. Many of the buildings in Red

Dog were washed away in the raging current that night. That next morning, the men at Roaring Camp realized that their town had been spared the effects of the flood and soon everyone was along both sides of the river trying to salvage any wood or mining equipment or personal possessions from Red Dog that might have been carried downstream by the flooded river. In the piles of tree branches, parts of wagons, suitcases and boxes and other debris in the river and along the shore one of the miners found the body of a young woman who had worked in a saloon in Red Dog. She was barely alive and in a great deal of pain. As the men lifted her from the water they discovered that she also was very pregnant that the baby was about to be born. Some men made her as comfortable as they could, while others of them were making bets as to if the baby would live or not and if it was going to be a girl or a boy. With tears in the mother’s eyes and one more long push and a cry of pain the baby was born. And then, just moments later, the mother died. And the newborn baby cried. For the first time in a very long time, the hardened hearts of those men softened. Some of the men volunteered to build a coffin and dig a grave. A guy named Stumpy, who at

one time in his life had studied to become a doctor, held out his hand to the newborn baby and the baby grabbed his finger and stopped crying. A bonding took place and from that time on Stumpy would be his main caregiver. There was only one live animal in the town, but it happened to be a donkey who had recently given birth to a foal so that milk could be provided for food and nourishment. Stumpy took a wooden box and made a cradle. Some of the men donated old shirts and jeans to be made into diapers. The men held a meeting and all agreed together to name the baby “Lucky.” Lucky because he was able to survive, and Lucky for them because of the difference the baby boy was making in the camp and in their own lives. They had decided together to clean things up. Empty bottles and other trash were picked up. There was no more cussing or fighting or drunkenness. Someone found a mirror and put it up beside the baby’s crib. The men saw how badly they really looked and soon baths and shaves and haircuts and clean clothes became normal. They all signed up to take turns rocking the cradle and feeding Lucky and even changing the dirty diapers. The men brought wild-

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flowers and pretty stones and carved wooden toys to give to baby Lucky. A few of the men even sang lullabies and simple songs that they long ago had learned in their own childhood. The town of Roaring Camp had been totally transformed. For me, Bret Harte’s story is a reminder of the birth of another baby that was born into a tough environment 2,000 years ago. But it wasn’t because of “luck” but because of God’s love for a really messed up world. And even today we still live in a “Roaring Camp” world full

of selfishness, anger, bitterness, hatred, wounds and scars from the past and other self-inflicted wounds. As you and your family celebrate Christmas this year, please take a few moments to read the story of the birth of a baby named Jesus in a small town named Bethlehem as recorded in the Gospel of Luke, chapter two, verses 1-20. Good news! It can change your life, and your future. God bless you. Have a wonderful celebration of the birth of our Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ. And, as always, keep looking up!

Hello, Christmas mas so magical? Well, of course it’s the second one. Anticipation? Of course I know why… Expectation? Hello, Christmas. Love? Community?! How glad I am to see you What does community I do, too, know what it again. I’ve missed you so have to do with love? means. much. ….. Com-mu-ni-ty Yes, I am ready this year. …… /kǝ’myȱȱnǝdē/ Well, last year was quite … Noun the doozie. I AM thinking. 1. A group of people Why is it every year I feel Yes, with my brain. living in the same place or we grow further apart? Think with my what? Like every year, you’re just having a particular characThat, I would like to tell teristic in common. a little less magical? 2. A feeling of fellow- you, is actually impossible. Oh, I see. It is, too. It’s me that’s the problem. ship with others, as a result What feeling? I’m the one drifting away. of sharing common attiWell, what makes Christ- tudes, interests and goals. Well, I’d say Christmas is By Annabelle Bolster Nevis

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I don’t feel pressure. Not actually pretty cold. truly. Not really. Oh. Right? I guess. I do? I don’t remember, no. Truly? I know it’s not about the I do? gifts and decorations. Relax? I really do. I don’t know if I can. But I guess I feel that it’s Christmas is meant to be harder to reach. Harder to touch than it was enjoyed, I know. I do enjoy it. the first time. I do! I love meeting my famiI do. ly and smiling and laughing Christmas? around a tree. How do I truly enjoy you? It’s just every year it’s a Well, you have to enjoy little more strained. yourself. Why is that?

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Wednesday, December 22, 2021 | park rapids enterprise

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One doll’s beautiful Christmas By Kim Villalva Dayton, Ohio Annie smoothed her dress as she took one final glance in the mirror before heading to the annual Christmas Doll Party. “Do you think Santa might pick us when he comes to our party this year?” asked Margaret, Annie’s best doll friend. Before Annie could reply, there was a loud crash and someone cried, “Oh no! My pies!” Annie and Margaret rushed to the kitchen. Maggie, the doll cook, was surrounded by her spilled fruit pies. “Don’t worry, Maggie, we’ll help you,” Annie dropped to the floor with a sponge and right into sticky raspberry goo. Margaret swept up the broken plates. They were almost done cleaning when they heard the party’s Christmas music. “Annie, that means Santa is almost here!” Margaret ran off to the party. “Thank you, Annie, I can finish,” Maggie smiled. Annie squealed as she

“Thank you, Annie! I couldn’t have done this without you!” Mr. Harold said. Annie dashed into the ballroom and stopped when she saw herself in a nearby mirror. Her heart fell. And then the tears fell. Her yarn hair was a tangled mess of leaves, twigs, and berry goo. Her cheek had a tiny scratch. And there was a red berry stain right on the front of her dress. Santa would never pick her to be a Christmas gift this year. “Ho! Ho! Ho! Did you have Adobe Stock a fun time at the Christmas resumed going to the party, Party?” Santa Claus walked but before she could reach straight towards her. “I…um…I got here late.” the ballroom, she spotted Mr. Annie tried to hide the stain Harold running through the on her dress. backyard carrying a chicken. “Now, my young doll friend, Annie saw chickens, goats tell me. How would you like and even a cow all having their to be given as a Christmas own Christmas party of sorts gift this year?” Santa knelt in outside. She and Mr. Harold front of Annie. tore through the yard as they “Me? Oh Santa, I would love chased and eventually cap- to be given as a gift this year, tured the runaway animals. but no child could possibly “Bye, Mr. Harold!” Annie want a rag doll that looks yelled back over her shoulder tattered and torn. Please, pick as she gleefully ran into the one of my beautiful friends house. instead of me.” She did her

KING From Page B1

Abdul’s words came out in a tangled string. “MISHAEL! You saw it? You must have seen it! It’s so bright, it has to be the thing that we’ve always...but you already know this. West! We must hurry. Where are the spices? Mishael! Where are the spices?!?! And where did Japheth and Allik get to? They aren’t here yet?” I stood quickly, brushing breadcrumbs from my tunic. “Abdul! By all the stars, speak plainly. What’s happening?” Abdul wiped perspiration from his forehead, “What do you mean, what’s happening? Mishael, is your head on backwards tonight? Have you not looked out your window all evening?” Before I could think of a suitable answer to that, Abdul had grabbed my sleeve and was hauling me across the room to

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one of the small windows set into the brick wall. Eagerly, he shoved my head outside and pointed upwards, “Look! Don’t you see it? Use your eyes, Mishael! The Creator gave them to you for a reason. You see it, yes?” Yes. I did see it. It was huge. It burned a searing, silvery white, hanging in the darkest part of the sky, to the east. It seemed to outshine the moon, clear

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and wonderful and terribly bright. It was exactly what we had been looking for. It was exactly what I had anticipated and prepared for and searched for the last ten years. Finally. Finally!! “YES!” I shouted. I jerked my head back inside, cracking the back of my crown on the top of the window, stumbling away with wild, pure joy spilling all over my face. “YES! Abdul! You know what this means, right?

best to smile, but a tiny tear slid down her cheek. “Annie, you are beautiful. You are the most beautiful gift. Your beauty comes from within. In fact, it was shining so bright this Christmas that I simply had to find you. Your beauty comes from your kindness and generosity. You missed the Christmas party so you could help your friends. That is true beauty, Annie. And that is why,” Santa winked, “I’m picking you to choose which child you get to live with!” Santa unrolled his magical Christmas map that allowed him to see all the children of the world. Annie peered close. She saw a pretty farm in the country with a little girl with red hair just like her! She saw another little girl who lived in a big city. Santa showed her so many wonderful little children that she could go to. “I think I know who I would like to be given to.” Annie smiled at Santa, and he leaned close so she could whisper into his ear. The Christmas gift dolls jumped into Santa’s sleigh

He’s coming! He might already be here! Oh, Abdul. We have to hurry! We have to-” The sound of shouting in the street cut me off. Japheth and Allik rushed in through the door, their eyes wide and mouths agape. Allik was carrying a parchment with a star chart on it, and Japheth was shouting at the top of his lungs, pounding Allik on the back. “He’s here, boys! The Messiah! He’s finally arrived! Let’s hurry! Where did you keep the myrrh? Abdul, you had it, yes?” Abdul nodded eagerly, “Yes! And you brought the frankincense?” “Of course,” Allik answered, “And the gold?” “I’ve got it,” I answered. I felt a terrific thrill as I rushed across the room to the small chest where I had kept my gift for so many years, gathering dust while the promise grew closer and closer to fulfillment. I had sold my

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after waving goodbye to their doll friends and Annie snuggled deep in Santa’s gift bag until it was her turn to be delivered on Christmas Eve. Late Christmas night, Santa took out his magical Christmas map so he could see all the children enjoying their gifts. He found Annie’s new home. Annie and her little girl, Alice, played together all Christmas Day in her family’s tiny, crowded apartment. Next to her bed was an old, cardboard box that Alice had colored to look like a doll house. “You need the prettiest house to match your pretty eyes, Annie!” Alice hugged Annie close. Santa knew that Annie had made the right choice. Annie, a dirty little ragdoll who lay with a bandage on her smiling face and a piece of green string tied in her tangled hair, was tucked tightly under Alice’s arm as she slept. Annie…a little doll who showed everyone that Christmas that the most beautiful gifts always come from the heart.

own house to get the gold, and my parents had allowed me to live with them while I continued my studies. Now, finally, finally, I would get to give my gift to the King. The one I had been waiting for for so long. I hefted the chest up in my arms, clutching it tightly. “Goodbye, Baba! Goodbye, Mata! I have to go. I must see the King!” I felt so excited that, for a moment, I couldn’t even bring myself to be

sad. “Go see the king, Mishael,” Baba said, rising from the table,“Go give him your gift.” The destined birthplace of the Savior was two years’ journey away. I would be gone for a very long time indeed. I would come back penniless, homeless. But I was going to see the King. And that was worth everything.

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park rapids enterprise | Wednesday, December 22, 2021

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He has come to save us By Lydia Hawn Park Rapids It was a cold, bright night when the innkeeper sent me to the stables. I was to clean out the old hay and food and put in new bedding and provisions for the animals, like every night. Only this time, father told me to clean out the manger the oxen ate out of and place hay in it, but I was to not let the animals eat out of it: in fact, father had told me to put the animals into their pens with the bolts across the doors so they couldn’t roam around the stables. I did what I was told to quickly and soon arrived at the inn where my father was talking in low tones to a man and a woman. The dark-haired woman was clearly with child. He gestured to the direction from which I came and the man looked where he was pointing, his dark, gentle eyes landing on me. “The stables are that way. My son, Malachi will lead you there.” I nodded and started towards the stables, which were not far off. The woman began to groan as we entered the stables. The

voice in front of me. I instantly looked up and saw four men, all mounted on decorated camels as they themselves wore attire that suggested they were of an upper class from a place outside of Bethlehem. “Excuse me?” the man said again, with a Persian accent I couldn’t help but notice. “Oh, sorry. Yes sir?” I replied, embarrassed. “Could you tell me if the babe’s mother will let us see Him?” What babe? What mother? I wondered. “Pardon?” I asked the man. “The Messiah,” the man said. A man from behind the other Adobe Stock rode up, clothed completely in scarlet. “The Son of Man is man propped her up against a were instantly met with a light being born. Tonight. Do you pile of hay, which I had taken so bright, so brilliant, that I had know if His mother will let us from the animals troughs. My to close them for a moment. A see Him?” father arrived soon after with star larger than any I had seen I remembered the woman. It a large jug of warm water and before rested directly above the seemed odd that she would be wool blankets. stable. I gazed up at it again, my carrying the Messiah, but I con“What else can I do to help?” eyes adjusting to it’s uncom- cluded it would be worth it to I asked, wishing I could do mon light. at least show them to her, just something for the woman. What is that? No star is that in case she was the woman the “Nothing,” my father bright!, I thought, puzzled at four men were looking for. “Come with me,” I said, turnanswered quickly as he began what it could be besides a star. I looked back to the stable, the ing and starting for the stables. to assist the woman. The men dismounted and led I nodded and ran off. I was thought of aiding the women sure there was something I at the forefront of my mind their camels behind them with could do. I looked up at the sky, again. An idea began to creep one hand, the other occupied seeking inspiration. My eyes into my mind when I heard a with beautiful gemed boxes and

Christmas By Timothy Johnson Nevis When the lights go out And the sun goes down And the kids stop messing around That is how you know it is the night of Christmas Eve When the children go to bed And the carols have all been said And the bright of day is but dead

That is how you know it is the night of Christmas Eve For when the morning shall dawn And the cookies are all gone And all you can see is deer steps on the lawn When the presents are all open And the kids have been awoken And not a word has gone unspoken That is how you know it is Christmas Day

LIFE

patrol, who was more than happy to unlock my From Page B1 car. I was apologizing all over the place, and he Soon, Christmas said something that stuck changed into ice skates, with me always. He said, hockey sticks, 4-H he’d “much rather be Christmas parties, school unlocking my car than Christmas programs and be picking me up off the Sunday school programs. road.” We had a great ChristRemember getting in mas the next day, all front of the group to “say together and in good your piece”? We always health. did ok, but that little girl The years began to fly who stood there with the by. Soon, we had marhem of her dress in her ried children with babes mouth nearly made her of their own. We bought mother faint. the usual presents for What wonderful years children until they moved they were – all those into the gadget age. I times hiding gifts and the knew nothing about a kids thinking they should Nintendo DS. be able to find them. I ask them what they Money was tight, but are doing when I’ve we wouldn’t have it any seen them spend four other way. hours in one place on One year, I had to work the sofa and the stanon Christmas Eve. I was dard answer is “videos.” pretty down, working That doesn’t mean much until midnight, and then to this grandma. I have I realized I’d locked my no idea if they’re watchkeys in the car! What a ing movies, music videos or whatever, but they are bummer. I called the highway sending the message that

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jars. When we reached the stables, I found her holding her baby, who was the most perfect baby I have ever seen. His dark eyes were sparkling and deep. He had a head of even darker hair which was slightly curly. I scooted to my father, who was lovingly watching the baby with something not like love, but reverence. I tapped his arm and motioned to the four men, to which he smiled. “His first visitors,” he whispered to me. The four men presented their gifts to the baby and placed their gifts by the newborn King. My eyes were just starting to feel drowsy when a large group of men, women and children appeared coming through the quiet streets of Bethlehem, all dressed in shepherd’s clothing with some of their curious sheep following them. They rushed into the stables and bowed before the child. “What is His name?” one asked. “Jesus,” answered the surprised mother. “He really is the Messiah, isn’t He?” I asked as I looked up at my father, who was standing beside me. “Yes,” he answered solemnly. “He has come to save us.”

says “don’t be so dumb to ask.” I’ve moved into the time that afflicts most old folks sooner or later. My dear husband has died and I’m left a widow. I could not have asked him to stay longer on this earth and suffer for my sake. No, he’s in heaven with the Lord, having a great time. What’s harder still is our oldest son died in

October. He just didn’t wake up one morning. I always thought the Lord knew that parents are supposed to die before their children. I will have to talk to the Lord about that when I get there. As I write this, the TV is playing that wonderful, old movie with Jimmy Stewart and Clarence the angel. As I listen, I know, IT REALLY IS A WONDERFUL LIFE!

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Christmas Greetings

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Wednesday, December 22, 2021 | park rapids enterprise

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The magical Christmas sombrero By Troy Johnson Louisville, Kentucky A Mexican female teenager’s room with lots of colorful artwork. It’s the middle of the night on Christmas Eve. A Mexican elf character, named Sheaf, appears out of nowhere as the teenager, named Tasha Hernandez, lays asleep. Sheaf is wearing a colorful, Christmas-decorated sombrero with a red Santa suit. Sheaf holds a Christmas sombrero behind his back as he tip toes toward Tasha’s bedside. Sheaf: Wake uuu-uhp. . . I see you. Wake uuuuhp. Tasha: (Tasha slowly wakes up yawning rubbing her eyes) Daddy, what do you want? Sheaf: Tasha. Tasha Hernandez. Tasha: (Tasha looks over at Sheaf, grabbing her pillow, jumping out to the right side of her bed gesturing to hit Sheaf with her pillow.) Are you an elf? Sheaf: Let me see. Yep. Tasha: Elves wear sombreros? Sheaf: Yep. I am an elf who wears a Christmas sombrero. Tasha: How did you get in here without my parents seeing you? Did you fly through my window? Sheaf: Elves don’t have

LILY From Page B1

Just as I said the words and turned to leave, I saw the tiniest flicker of her eyelids. Thinking I was tired and imagining things, I whispered in her ear. “Lily, move your right toes or leg for me.” Again, the slightest, almost imperceptible movement happened on her right side. I called her night nurse over, and said “Merry Christmas, Lily is waking up!” Christmas Day, Lily continued to make progress. Her family was ecstatic! Her physician smiled and told me, “She has a long road ahead, but I feel she will make an excellent

wings. That’s fairy tale stuff. Tasha: My window is not even open. You came through the chimney. Sheaf: Chimney? I don’t think so. Guess again. Tasha: (grips her pillow as she slightly presses up against the wall.) You’re scaring me. Why are you here? Sheaf: The mystery is in your creation. (Sheaf points to the picture of himself on Tasha’s desk as he walks over and grabs it showing it to Tasha). Tasha: (Tasha looks at the picture and turns to look at Sheaf.) Look, Mister Sheaf, you need to leave. (Sheaf places the sombrero he’s holding on Tasha’s head.)

Sheaf: You have an aura about you. Tasha: What did I tell you? What did you say your name was? Sheaf: Sheaf. Tasha: Bizarre is more like it. Sheaf: No. My name is Sheaf. Tasha: No. This whole thing is bizarre. You appear out of nowhere wearing a Christmas sombrero and you call yourself Sheaf. Nothing makes sense. Plus, you say I created you. (Tasha grabs her sombrero off her head pointing it in Sheaf’s face.) And this. This sombrero. What is it all about? Sheaf: It’s your artwork. You made it. Your dream. Your vision. (Christmas music in

the background creeps into the atmosphere as Sheaf dances along.) Tasha: Where’s that music coming from? Sheaf: It’s your dream. (singing) I got my sombrero. I am no scarecrow. I want to let you know I wear a Christmas sombrero. I come to give you an outstanding show. That’s just the way it goes. Tasha: Mister Sheaf, you goofy. I’m going to wake King up if you don’t get out of here. Sheaf: Burger King? Tasha: King, my dog. Sheaf: King can join the party with us. Tasha: I have to be up early in the morning to tell my parents I still hate Christmas. Sheaf: I know why because last Christmas your boyfriend, Juan, dumped you for the new girl in school. Tasha: I’m over Juan for your info. Poof. Be gone. Get out of here. Sheaf: Not until you say “Christmas joy.” Tasha: I said get out of here. Sheaf: You have no Christmas joy. Tasha: Wow. Rub it in. Sheaf: You have no Christmas jooooooooy. Tasha covers her ears. Tasha: Ouch. You hurt my ears. You’re going to wake up King and my parents.

recovery.” It was my best Christmas present ever. I was off work for several days and when I returned, Lily had been transferred to rehabilitation at another hospital. In February, I called the rehab unit and asked about her. The nurse told me she had been sent home a few days prior. I missed saying goodbye. In the spring, as I was leaving work, the nursing supervisor told me I had visitors in the waiting room. As I opened the door, nothing could have surprised me more. I saw six young men in tuxedos and six young women in prom dresses. The young woman closest to me looked up; she had red hair. Lily had recovered! Her speech was off a little, and she walked with

a slight limp, but she told me she was so grateful to be alive and thanked me for my care. I had to ask her, “How did you know what nurse to ask for? Many peo-

ple cared for you. I never cared for you when you were awake.” “That was easy,” Lily answered. “I just asked for the nurse who hummed Christmas songs.”

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Sheaf: They can’t hear me. Tasha: I want you to disappear. (She throws her Christmas Sombrero at Sheaf, missing him as Sheaf ducks out of the way). Sheaf: You’re mean. Tasha: Okay. How can I get you out of here? Sheaf: If you want me to leave, I will leave. Tasha: Bye. Sheaf: Wait. First you have to say “I have Christmas joy.” Tasha: Oh, really. (Tasha snaps her fingers in Sheaf’s face.) Sheaf: Unh, unh. Did not work. Tasha: I can fart and I know that will make you leave. I have the worst fart smell in the whole world. Sheaf: It smells like rotten eggs in here already. Rotten egg nog. Tasha: Your breath. Sheaf: Millennial. (Shakes his head.) Tasha: Get out. Sheaf: Isn’t it obvious I’m not leaving until you say “I have Christmas joy?” Tasha: (Tasha grabs the sombrero Sheaf gave her off the floor, and puts it on her head.) I have a sombrero and I want you to go. Be gone. (Tasha claps her hands). Sheaf: I wear a sombrero, but I can’t go. Tasha: Tell you what,

Sheaf, I’m going to go back to sleep and you will be out of my dream just like that. (Tasha lays back down and falls to sleep.) (Sheaf leans over and speaks into Tasha’s right ear.) Sheaf: Wake up. I see you sleepy head. Wake up. (Tasha grabs her pillow and slaps Sheaf across his sombrero, knocking Sheaf to the floor. Tasha paces toward Sheaf.) Tasha: Sheaf. Wake up. I’m sorry, but you need to go. (Tasha looks up toward her ceiling) Dear God, I’m sorry. Please. Okay, I have Christmas joy. Sheaf wakes up. Sheaf: There you go. (Sheaf gets off the floor, dusts himself off, and puts on his sombrero.) Sheaf: Peace. (Sheaf walks out of Tasha’s room and walks back in). Tasha: Why you come back? (Sheaf takes the sombrero he gave Tasha.) Sheaf: You have no need for this sombrero. Tasha: I didn’t need it anyway. Sheaf: Merry Christmas and sweet dreams. (Sheaf leaves). (Tasha looks toward her ceiling, lays back on her bed, and falls asleep.)

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park rapids enterprise | Wednesday, December 22, 2021

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Jare-Bear and the cookies By Ellie MIller Nevis The smell of cooking and baking filled the air of the small cabin. Frost was crawling up the windows, but the fire burned strong and kept the home warm. Soft music could be heard from the small radio in the corner of the main room. Outside of the house was a group of people bundled up with rosy faces. The person in the front gently knocked on the door and waited for an answer. When the door opened, the chorus began a well-known Christmas song. The couple who had opened the door smiled as the group sang, despite knowingly letting the cold air into their home. Once the group had finished the song, they gave warm smiles and went on their way. The two shut the door and turned to one another before laughing. “That was worse than my singing!” the man said, making his way to the couch. “And I took classes.” The woman chuckled and followed the man to the couch and sat next to him. “You aren’t that terrible, honey, just a little off key.” She gently kissed the man’s cheek and laid her head on his shoulder. They held each other’s hand and listened to the music playing on the radio. A beep from the oven sounded, letting the two know the cookies had finished and were ready for

decorating. However, both didn’t move and instead cuddled closer. “Ya know, if we don’t get those cookies, they’ll burn up,” the woman said, though she didn’t make a move to go to the kitchen. The man hummed and leaned closer, placing a kiss upon her head. “Plus, you still have to clean up that mess in the kitchen.” The man sighed and got off the couch, bringing his wife with him. In the kitchen was the mess from making the cookie dough and the promised cookies waiting in the oven. With help from his wife, the man had cleaned up the kitchen and had the cookies cooling down on the countertop. The man grabbed a homemade frosting from the pantry and brought it over to the tabletop where his wife and the cookies were waiting. “If Jare-Bear and Mike don’t get here soon, I think I might eat all of these myself,” the man said, reaching to grab one of the stillhot cookies. The woman snatched his hand away and gave him a kiss. “You’re going to burn yourself if you try to decorate one right now.” She looked into her husband’s beautiful eyes. “Plus, Jared said they would be home around this time anyway. I’m sure you won’t have to wait long.” As if on cue, the front door opened, revealing their son, Jared, and his friend, Mike. Both were almost completely covered in snow, but had glowing smiles on their faces. “Mom! Dad!” Jared yelled,

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in a rush to take off his winter gear. Mike was right behind him, though not as careless with his extra layers. “You wouldn’t believe how big Mike’s family is! They all came from New Jersey to spend Christmas here. Plus, we saw a big group of deer in the ditch on our way. Also, Mike’s mom is going to come get him later.” He ran to the kitchen and gave both of his parents hugs. “Slow down there, kiddo! How many candy canes did June give you?” The dad patted his son’s head. “Mike’s mom only gave us hot chocolate before we left.” Jared’s attention was quickly grabbed by the cookies almost done cooling on the pan and the frosting on the table. “How many can we have?” “Well, as long as your mom doesn’t know, you can have all of them,” the dad whispered to his son. He chuckled and waved to his son’s friend. “Come on over, Mike. Don’t want Jare-Bear to eat all of them now, do ya?” Jared groaned at the nickname he was given, but grabbed his friend and brought him over to the table. As the radio played and the snow outside fell, the four decorated as many cookies as they could. It was a peaceful night, even after Mike had left and the cookies had all been devoured. “I love you, my munchkins,” the man said to his wife and son, bringing them both in for a hug. “We love you, too,” both the woman and kid said together, hugging back.

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The gift of love By Ella Pierce Akeley What’s the best part of Christmas? I believe that Christmas is the season of giving. I love the holiday season and giving gifts to show others that I care. Giving gifts to family and friends and just watching them open the gift is awesome. Seeing the excitement on their faces, hearing them say “I really wanted this!” or “I can’t wait to use this!” Don’t get me wrong, I like receiving gifts, but giving them is 10 times better. I also really like being with family. Even if we’re just hanging out and having fun. We’re able to catch up with family members that we haven’t seen in a while. Plus tell stories from long ago. There are so many fun stories my family has from

just being together. I even have plenty of stories from just being with my cousins. Really, the best part of Christmas is all the love. For example, everyone has their fun, family traditions that they do every year. One of my family traditions is that we watch the movie “Elf” while we put up the Christmas tree. Traditions are fun in all, but while doing these traditions you can feel the love from everyone. While giving gifts or receiving them, you can see the love around you. When you’re telling stories and everyone is laughing, that is love. Love is everywhere. It’s all around us, and everyone loves someone. Show it! I want you to show that you love someone this Christmas season.

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Wednesday, December 22, 2021 | park rapids enterprise

Holiday traditions By Missy Hayes Park Rapids Every family has their own ideas what the holidays mean to them. What we do together routinely defines our unique families From generation to generation – we make traditions – maybe it’s singing songs together or baking certain foods

or having a special prayer or telling a story or having the youngest child pass around the gifts from under the tree. Whatever it is, from year to year make your holidays special make some new traditions Missy Hayes Park rapids

I am a snowman By Sarah Boettcher Park Rapids I am a snowman, lumpy and brown, Hastily made by the children at play I cannot move, I’m attached to the ground I cannot move, so frozen I stay. Many ask if I hate the cold. To that, I often reply with “no.”

I stand and hear the stories of old, I stand watch as young people grow. Carols fill ears like joyous cries, Traditions repeat “just like last year” I watch as the happy carry pies, I watch as the joyous share their cheer. But I am a snowman, lumpy and brown,

I cannot handle the warmth of hugs I wait as people tour lit towns, I wait as they sip from festive mugs. I’m made of snow, I never forget I’ll be gone with the coming of spring I will not die, don’t you fret I will become the flowers that bring.

The joy of Christmas By Paige Cowden Nevis

Then snowmen would be born As children’s smiles First snow fall glistened The most magical Just like the snow moment of the year when the sun shines As if it was a spell just right in the morn Smelling the snow Houses had a new in the air at negative outfit this time of year twenty-four Bright lights you The snowflakes could see from space danced as the fell Ones that attracted Each one more those reindeer unique than the one So Santa could stop before and then leave without Snow angels would a trace Men and women be made the next day

stand in town square Dancing and singing As music fills the air While bells are ringing Santa would stop to give children their presents Spreading his holiday cheer As they softly sleep not knowing of his presence So when they wake up they know he was here

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A new Scrooge By Joshua Hawn Park Rapids I stood on the streets of London looking at the Christmas bustling around me. I had had a busy day of trying to raise funds for the poor. My partner and I had gone into various businesses with our rehearsed lines: “At this festive season of the year, it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir.” The response had been good in most cases. The tailor’s shop had laid down 3 pounds for the poor. The butcher had not only given as much, but provided a side of pork which had been given immediately to a poor family whose father had been laid out by an injury at the dockyards. The haberdashery store had had a good year, and gave 15 pounds for the poor. Every one of those, and many more, had not only given, but resounded with a “Merry Christmas!” However, it had not been all easy. Several business owners painfully searched their pocket for a half-shilling and begrudgingly bestowed it, then waited for exultant praise for their meager generosity. Some had deceitfully asked for more time, knowing full well I would not come back. But by far the worst was the man I had met in Scrooge and Marley’s. Before I got much past my opening spiel, the proprietor Ebenezer Scrooge had reminded me that prisons, work-

houses, and government were well taking care of the poor. I knew full well that these were despicable attempts at relieving a fraction of the needs, and tried to protest that many would rather die than go to those places because of the rampant disease and crime that permeated them. I recalled, even now in the street, how Scrooge had shouted: “If they would rather die, they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population!!” The lender’s face twisted in a rage and fury I would never be able to unsee. How could a person be so unfeeling, especially at Christmas? Then, suddenly, I could see Scrooge’s face before me, here on the streets of London. But surely it could not be the same person. This person was smiling, smiling so broadly it looked like his face might tear apart. I wanted to hide to avoid this man’s wrath again, but I was frozen to the ground, as Scrooge started to almost run directly toward me! He seized my hand and pumped it, cheerfully saying: “My dear sir, How do you do? I hope you succeeded yesterday. It was very kind of you. A merry Christmas to you, sir!” Incredulity allowed only a “Mr. Scrooge?” It could not be the same person. Surely not. “Yes,” said Scrooge. “That is my name, and I fear it may not be pleasant to you. Allow me to ask your pardon. And will you have the goodness…” Not knowing what else to say, Scrooge hastily

bent down whispered in my ear an amount that I had never heard before, except in mention at the stock exchange. My breath was knocked out of me. All I could manage was: “Lord bless me! My dear Mr. Scrooge, are you serious?” “If you please,” said Scrooge, smiling and laughing. “Not a farthing less. A great many back-payments are included in it, I assure you.” Scrooge beamed looking at my face. “Will you do me that favour?” Tears instantly filled my eyes “My dear sir! I don’t know what to say to such munifi—” “Don’t say anything, please,” retorted Scrooge. He stood and watched me almost blubber. “Come and see me. Will you come and see me?” To think of going back to Scrooge’s shop was unheard of just an hour before. Now I was being invited back! How could I refuse? “I will!” I could say nothing else. I could barely believe it had happened! “Thank’ee,” said Scrooge. “I am much obliged to you. I thank you 50 times. Bless you!” I had been praying for a certain amount for the poor. I had asked my Lord for a sum, and had come within 100 pounds. Now, Mr. Scrooge had tripled my goal. I silently thanked God for His providence. How God in His magnificent working had made such a change, I could not say, but I looked after Scrooge and said, “God bless him! God bless us, every one!”

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park rapids enterprise | Wednesday, December 22, 2021

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Christmas Greetings

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Sarah Nasello / The Forum

Sarah’s Sea Salt and Vanilla Caramel Corn features clusters of perfectly popped kernels of corn coated in a glaze of hot, glossy caramel and sprinkled with flaky sea salt to create the ultimate sweet-and-salty treat.

Sweet and salty

Sea Salt and Vanilla Caramel Corn is deliciously addictive By Sarah and Tony Nasello love making homemade candies and have been playing with caramel in a variety of recipes this past month, and one of my favorite creations is this deliciously addictive Sea Salt and Vanilla Caramel Corn. Clusters of perfectly popped kernels of corn are coated in a glaze of hot, glossy caramel and then sprinkled with flaky sea salt to create the ultimate sweet-andsalty treat. If you’re new to the world of caramel or candy making, this is a terrific way to introduce yourself to the technique without having to worry too much about the final result.

I

TONY & SARAH

NASELLO

Home with the Lost Italian

While making caramels can be somewhat challenging, making caramel corn is a fairly easy and forgiving process. To get started, you will need a candy thermometer, a heavy-bottomed pan and some basic staples from the pantry, including popcorn, white and brown sugars, corn syrup, water, butter, vanilla extract and your favorite flaky sea salt

(mine is the Icelandic sea salt sold at the Stabo Scandinavian boutique in downtown Fargo). A candy thermometer is essential to cooking your caramel to the correct temperature, which is 300 degrees for this recipe (also known as the hard-crack stage). This step may seem intimidating, but it is a lifesaver when it comes to making candy and removes any guesswork from the process. While there are a variety of fancy digital options, I still use my trusty mercury thermometer which you can find in home and hardware stores for about $10.

ITALIAN: Page B10

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Wednesday, December 22, 2021 | park rapids enterprise

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ITALIAN From Page B9

Once the caramel reaches the hard-crack stage, I remove it from the heat and quickly stir in a splash of pure vanilla extract, which enhances the creaminess of the caramel. Next, I add a teaspoon of baking soda, which is the key to creating the wonderful texture of this caramel corn. The baking soda reacts to the acids in the caramel (from the brown sugar and corn syrup) and forms tiny air bubbles of carbon dioxide. You will actually see this happen as the caramel will foam up and turn lighter in color once the baking soda is added. The reason this matters is that those air bubbles will lighten the caramel — both in color and texture — and keep Sarah’s Sea Salt and Vanilla Caramel Corn is perfect for gift-giving or just plain old snacking. it from being too sticky. Once the caramel is ready, I pour it over down into bite-size the popcorn and use clusters. Then, the real two large utensils to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring SEA SALT AND VANILLA challenge is to wait occasionally. (like rubber spatulas for it to cool to room CARAMEL CORN or spoons) to toss the Once the syrup reaches a boil, cover 10 cups freshly popped popcorn (1/2 cup the pan and cook for 1 minute — this mixture together. This is temperature before diving in, but I rarely kernels) will dissolve any sugar crystals that have an interesting process, achieve that. formed on the sides of the pan. 1-1/2 cups white sugar as the caramel is very With its beautiful, Remove the cover and attach a candy 1/2 cup light brown sugar, packed hot so you must work thermometer to the edge of the pan. glossy finish and perfect 1/2 cup light corn syrup quickly, yet thoroughly Continue to boil the syrup over mediumblend of sweet-and1/2 cup warm water and with caution, as high heat, stirring occasionally, until salty flavors, this Sea 4 Tbsp. unsalted butter you mix the caramel the temperature reaches 300 degrees Salt and Vanilla Caramel 1 tsp. pure vanilla extract corn together. Strands (hard-crack stage). Remove the pan Corn is the perfect treat from heat and immediately stir in vanilla 2-1/2 tsp. flaky sea salt, divided of caramel may begin to for gift-giving or even until combined. Add baking soda and Grease a large baking sheet, 2 large appear as you mix, but just to snack on as you spoons (rubber spatulas or wooden salad stir gently until well combined. The hot just keep mixing and caramel will foam up as you stir, so use pass out Halloween forks also work) and a large bowl lightly they will blend back into caution as you stir. with butter or cooking spray; set the tray candy this weekend. the mixture. and utensil aside and place the popped Pour the hot caramel over popcorn and “Home with the Lost Italian” is a Once the popcorn is popcorn into the bowl. use the 2 greased utensils to toss the weekly column written by Sarah fully coated in caramel, Nasello featuring recipes by her mixture. The mixture will be thick, and In a large, heavy-bottomed pan, use a husband, Tony Nasello. The couple I turn it out onto a wooden spoon or rubber spatula to gently strands of caramel will appear as the owned Sarello’s in Moorhead caramel hardens, so work quickly but combine the sugars, corn syrup, water, greased baking sheet and lives in Fargo with their son, butter and ½ teaspoon of the salt. Bring thoroughly until the corn is evenly coated. and use my hands or Giovanni. Readers can reach them two forks to break it at sarahnasello@gmail.com.

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Sarah Nasello / The Forum

Sprinkle 1 teaspoon of the remaining sea salt onto the greased baking sheet. Turn the caramel corn onto the sheet and use your hands or 2 forks to separate the corn into clusters of any size you desire. Sprinkle the remaining teaspoon of salt onto the clusters and let the caramel cool completely. Serves about 8 to 10. To store: Store in an airtight container at room temperature for 2 to 3 weeks. Sarah’s tips: ► Nuts can be added for more flavor and crunch. Simply combine 2 cups of peanuts (or your favorite nut) with the freshly popped popcorn and then toss with the caramel glaze. ► For a fancy finish, drizzle the cooled caramel corn with melted dark chocolate. ► Package the caramel corn in cellophane bags with decorative ribbon or festive tins for holiday teacher and hostess gifts.

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park rapids enterprise | Wednesday, December 22, 2021

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Christmas Greetings

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Season’s Greetings

As we gather in warm, festive homes to celebrate this special time of year, we would like to thank all of the men and women who are serving our country in the Armed Forces this holiday season away from home. It is with deep respect and admiration that we honor and thank you for your valor and service to our country. We appreciate the great sacrifices you make for our freedom. We would like to wish you and your families the very best during this holiday season and all through-out the year!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! &

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(218) 237-7378

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OPEN 7 DAYS A WEEK

Willy Jensen Trucking & Repair, Inc. DOT Inspections

Frazee, MN

Rodeman

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NORTHERN BAIT INC.

Retail – Wholesale Bait, Tackle & Guns Gift Certificates Available

218-732-5113

Corner of 7th Street & Main Avenue S. 614 So. Main, Park Rapids

MN Lic. EA700072

Office: 218-573-3549 27522 Co. Hwy. 48 Shop: 218-573-3551 Osage, MN

AVENSON ELECTRIC 218-252-9350

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Hwy. 34 E., Park Rapids 732-1940

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“Proudly Veteran Owned”

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HARVALA APPLIANCE

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Christmas Greetings

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Wednesday, December 22, 2021 | park rapids enterprise

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Peace on Earth

Pa

God Bless the World

vice • Josh’s Collision Center & Storage • Kountry Tile & Stone • L&M Fleet Supply • Leading Edge Mechanical • Leeseberg Cabinets, Inc. • McDonald’s o f

Park Rapids Aviation • Park Rapids Avionics • Park Rapids Walker Eye Clinic • T&M Express • Thomason, Swanson & Zahn, PLLC • True North Mechanica l H r•

Ser

C • Avenson Electric, Inc. • Citizens National Bank • Janke Sew & Vacu u m A V

r k Rapids • North Star Nursing • Northern Convenience • Northland Lum b e


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