Little Prayer
Little prayer be on your way,
God bless you on this Christmas Day
With happiness supreme,
And may you gather all the gifts,
Of which you ever dream.
May all your friends remember you,
With sentiment sincere,
To add a world of pleasure, and
To multiply your cheer.
God bless you with the courage to
Pursue each noble quest and
Grant this golden yule will be
By far your happiest.
May all the ornaments and lights,
Upon your Christmas tree
Reflect the peace and comfort of
Your loving family.
May every moment of your life
Seem wonderful and new,
And in the year a week away
May all your dreams come true.
The above poem was hand written in a Christmas Card from my Great Aunt Ree who was also my God Mother; Christmas 1978.
My book, My Ominous Adventures At True Blue Farm, The Secret Behind The Mirror features this amazing woman and her wonderful 85 acre farm in the Blue Mountains of Pennsylvania set between Martins Creek and Bangor.
The following is an excerpt from the book: As I close my eyes and picture my wonderful Aunt Ree I see a heavyset woman with soft rounded features. Her hair was gray and parted on the side, a bobbed cut with finger waves on her forehead. She always used Palmolive soap and Jergens Lotion and her skin was soft, with slightly rosy cheeks and never a wrinkle. Her eyes were of a transparent blue and she had a cleft type scar on her bottom lip that gave her lips a certain attractiveness like a mole on the cheek does for some women. As a young lady she resembled the Hollywood actress Jean Harlow who was known as the original blond bombshell.
When I was little she had the perfect grandmother look. When we would go outside in the summer she wore a big straw hat and a tea length cotton flowered dress covered with a pinafore apron, which also was of a flowery pattern. Although she never bore children of her own, she sure knew how to make kids happy and holy.
During each visit to her house you heard a sermon daily. You were taught scripture from the Bible and you always said your prayers. On one occasion I can remember her telling us a story about how she had been shopping at a grocery store when a boy was caught shoplifting. She pulled the store manager aside and paid for the item the boy stole and she then proceeded to preach the wages of sin, and the gospel of Jesus Christ and forgiveness to the boy. I’d like to think that she led that boy straight down the path of salvation that day.
She was not only our Great Aunt but she was also the God Mother of each of my mother’s children. She took her responsibility seriously as her faith in God and her Pennsylvania Dutch Lutheran roots influenced her devotion to spreading the gospel to all she met.
Yes, there is no doubt that she had a profound influence on my life, and so did her sudden passing.
On Christmas Eve 1978, she had baked her famous Busy Day Cake, and was reaching into the cellar way for a can of condensed milk on a shelf. She lost her footing and fell down the cellar steps. She was 77 years old at the time of her fall. She managed to make it back up the steps and into bed.
Christmas morning her leg was terribly swollen and bruised. My brother Buddy went up to see her, and called the squad. She was taken to Warren Hospital. I went to visit her that Christmas day and brought her a small gift, a porcelain child on a sled. I did not know that it would be the last time I would see her alive.
On December 30th while I was working as a barber at the Palmer Park Barber Shop, I received a phone call from my sister Ruth Ann telling me that Aunt Ree, our God Mother had passed away. Apparently, she had a pulmonary embolism.
While helping Uncle Bill prepare for an auction sale I found a daily devotional book in her desk, and on the thirtieth of December there was a poem, that ended with these words; "A few more rolling suns, at most, will land me on fair Canaan's coast, then I shall sing the song of grace, and see my Savior face to face." Prepare to meet thy God. Amos 4: 12
We would often visit our God Parents for Christmas Dinner when I was a little girl. The ride there was very pretty in the snow. We drove from Phillipsburg, NJ passing through Easton, PA, and the drive north on Rt. 611 wound along side the Delaware River. Once we were in Martins Creek we took Creek Road which crisscrossed a creek then a turn up Rasely Hill Road to gradually climb up the mountain through a very pretty snow covered evergreen tree filled small ravine. The scene was right out of a Currier and Ives print.
Excerpt from the book: Upon entering the house the smell of burning wood was always in the air, even in the summer when the stove was usually shut down. I've loved that smell and even now over forty years later I still love the smell of a wood fire mostly for nostalgic reasons. Memories of that farm and its inhabitants hauntingly linger awaiting to be evoked by the first whiff of a campfire, and then the tears well up in my eyes. It is for this reason that I can completely understand the saying that nostalgia is bittersweet and the perfect combination of pleasure and pain.
Our Great Uncle Bill would cut a cedar tree down from their property, and it was placed on a table. Within my 
memories of Christmas when I was a little girl are bits and pieces of special touches like a bear family, a vintage Santa, cast iron deer, and several very old glass ornaments from Germany that had belonged to my Great Grandmother Eck.
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