Happy New Year
Another year is ending, as the minutes tick by slowly, I sit back and reflect on 2012, a very interesting year. 2012 has been filled with happiness and with sorrow; I lost my Uncle Cliff, a man who lived his life with integrity, a man who will dearly be missed. I have lost old friends and as the circle of life grows, I have gained many
new friends, keeping the blessing of friends flourishing.
The Wyandotte Nation lost a great leader, Chief Leaford Bearskin, an American war hero, and a great man.
But along with sadness comes happiness, this is the year I finished A FADED COTTAGE.
As a writer, I think of the past more than I should. Each year that we live, we take away memories, some good and some bad from the past year, and those memories becomes pages in our book of life, pages that make us who we are, shaping our lives.
This I leave for you, hoping your pages of memories will grow enormous in your book of life and will be full of peace, love, and hope. Thank you – tizameh (tiz a may) for being a part of my life and joining me on my new journey.
Wishing you all a wonderful and Happy New Year.
Everyone has special memories and of course, I have one memory of a Christmas in a time so long ago.
It was late on Christmas Eve, not for sure of my age, but I believe I was around five or six years old, because I remember our Christmas tree was real. My granddad Holt, every Christmas, took my brother and me to an old farm in Buck Range and we would return with a perfectly fat, fresh Christmas tree. We added the old fashion multicolored lights, as I called them swirly ice cream cone lights, and glass ornaments with scenes hidden inside and of course a lot of silvery tinsel covering the tree.
I was tucked in bed one Christmas Eve, supposed to be asleep, but I heard voices talking in the living room. Slipping quietly out of bed I made my way to the hallway door. Slowly I peeped into the living room, my heart stopped beating,
Rubbing my sleepy eyes I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Standing with his back to me was Santa Claus. He was tall, very round and fat, wearing black boots dressed in all red. Knowing, my curiosity was getting me into big trouble, I turned and ran leaping into my bed. I never said anything to anyone about what I had seen. I had learned my lesson and I wasn’t questioning Santa.
Years later, I learned my Santa in my living room was my Uncle John, but that didn’t take away my faith in believing. Even now, I can close my eyes and see Santa Claus standing in my living room and I know I will never stop believing, and I will always be ready to peek around the next door.
I wish for you & your family peace & joy throughout the holidays and never forget wishes & dreams do come
Hebrews 11:1 “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”
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Hi I'm Diann welcome and join me on my adventure. I'm the author of "A Faded Cottage" & "Whispering Fog" and Founder of Diann Shaddox Foundation. I'm a member of the Wyandotte Nation & I have Essential Tremor (ET). I love to travel, cook, which leads to eating and I love wines. Chardonnay is my favorite unless I'm eating steak then I'll take a glass of Cabernet.
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