Wednesday, June 25, 2014

A Message From Mrs. Claus: How You Can Help Your Parents at Christmas



Mrs. Santa Claus sends a letter about how children can help their parents at Christmas time

Dear children everywhere,

It is almost Christmas 2007. As Christmas approaches, you have a lot of things on your minds like Christmas concerts, presents for others especially your Moms and Dads, sisters and brothers, as well as your friends.

Shopping is hard work for everyone. I hope that you have all done your shopping early this year. If not, you have a few weeks to get it finished. Make sure that you have your shopping list ready before you go shopping and that will help your parents.

When I think about all of the best Christmas presents that I have ever received, I am reminded of one in particular. It was a tiny, rag doll made by a young child and it did not cost even one penny. Don't fret about not having any money to buy presents. I am certain that you will find some wonderful way to give everyone you love something that they will never forget.

If you want do something special and help your parents, work hard at learning your parts for your Christmas concerts. Even if you have one or two lines, just say them the best you possibly can. You families will be proud of you.

I love to help Santa with your letters. Each letter has a special place in his heart. He lets the elves in his workshop at the North Pole know what they should be doing, so that your Christmas is a special and happy day. They work very hard and love to make toys. Santa learned how to make toys as a young child, too.

Be extra good for your parents, as that makes things great for your Moms and Dads. Try to be their Santa's helpers whenever you can. Even if you do little things, that can make a big difference.

When you put up your Christmas trees, make sure that they are well watered, if you have a real tree. That is one job that I know you can do. There are artificial trees now that have a fire retardant, so that they don't catch fire. Don't water those ones.

Hang up your stockings on Christmas Eve. If have a chance to do so, put up an extra stocking or two for those less fortunate. It feels great to know that you have helped someone or made them happy in a special way. Don't forget to put one up for your Moms and Dads.

When your Moms are doing the Christmas baking, they might seem to be tired, so help if you can. Your Dads may need a hand shoveling the snow too. If we get a white Christmas, there might be a lot of extra shoveling to do, but it looks so nice.

If you feel sad, just sing a few Christmas carols. You cannot sing and be sad at the same time. It will make others happy too. Teach them some new songs.

Know that Santa and I have a special place for you in our hearts. We love every one of you in a very special way.

Have a wonderful Christmas and God bless you all.

With love,

Mrs. Santa Claus 

P.S. Rudolph is prancing around getting ready to lead Santa's sleigh. Yes, he still has a red nose and he loves carrots.


How I Know It's Christmas: A Message From Santa Claus



Santa Claus writes a letter to children everywhere about unconditional love

Hello my dear children,

Here it is Christmas 2007, and I am beginning to get wonderful letters from you again. Christmas Eve will be here before I know it! I have work to do before then, but work to me was, and is a wonderful thing.
I am getting e-mails now, too. I just love receiving them, even if I am not a computer whiz yet. Nowadays, even young ones know how to send e-mails. Some of your letters are interesting or funny, but I take every one of them seriously and enjoy reading them, so keep on writing to me. I also realize some of you are having a hard time celebrating Christmas for a number of different reasons.

When I look at all of the e-mail letters, I see you have learned a lot of things about computers that I don't know yet, but I am still with the times and learning new things every day, just like you. Children learn so much faster than I do at my age. I doubt that any one of you can guess how old I am now. Only Mrs. Santa Claus knows that, ho, ho, ho!

By the way, just call me Santa Claus or Santa. Don't worry about calling me Mr. Santa Claus. That is too formal for me, although Mrs. Santa Claus prefers to be called Mrs.

Some of you must think that I am a millionaire, the way that you are asking for so many toys. I have never had such a long list of toys to fill. Many of these are electronic toys. Those are a challenge for the elves.

Well, children, just to let you know the truth, I never wanted to be a millionaire. Even when I was a small child, I did not like money because I was not allowed to spend it. Every penny had to be saved. I loved other children and toys more than anything else, so I learned how to make toys, like my Dad did for me and the other children in our family.

Personally, I did not have a lot of my own toys as a child, because my parents were not well off, but we were rich in other ways. We were always blessed with the one thing that no amount of money can buy, even now. We had a home filled with love. Our parents loved us and we loved them. We were taught to love one another and others, as well.

I don't know if you have ever heard of the expression, unconditional love. I know that is a big word for young ones. If you go to Sunday school or to church with your parents, you might learn about unconditional love.

Unconditional love is a wonderful thing. It is the way that God loves us. In fact, it is the reason behind Christmas. If you know the Christmas story about Jesus being born in a manger, then you know that He is God's only Son. God gave Him to the world as a gift of unconditional love.

When you think of Christmas, remember that God loves you and celebrate the birth of Jesus with your family and friends.

Santa always gives gifts to boys and girls. This is the fantasy and fun part of Christmas that springs from love because Santa loves children everywhere around the world. Giving children gifts is an expression of his love. It is everyone's task to be Santa's helper. You can be Santa's helper too, no matter how old you are.

When you see a child receive a toy for Christmas and you see the joy on that little one's face, remember that God has enough joy to give some to you too.

Enjoy Christmas and have fun with your toys. Remember to share all of your presents and your joy with other children around you and your parents as well.

Here is a secret. Parents still love toys, even if they pretend that they don't. Let Christmas be a fun time as well as a happy time for everyone. Don't eat too much candy.

Love to all and sweet dreams, children,

Santa

P.S. I love cookies and the milk; sometimes, I like hot chocolate, too. Remember that Santa is not God and he can say, "Be good, so that you don't get a lump of coal or a carrot in your stocking." 

If you get a carrot, give it to your Mom to put in her turkey soup. A lump of coal can help warm your home, so give that to your Dad. He can put that lump of coal with others. The fire in your fireplace will warm everyone's hearts. Maybe he will want to use it on the barbecue, next summer. 

Perhaps you think using coal, as a way to heat your home is old fashioned. I remember when we heated our home with coal. I also learned how to shovel coal into the old furnace in our basement. How do I know about coal and carrots? I was not a perfect child, but I learned God's idea of being perfect allows room for imperfection and forgiveness. He loves you and so do I. 


Coping With the Holidays: What About Next Christmas?



For some people, coping with Christmas is a challenge, at the best of times.There is no Christmas that is one hundred percent perfect, but does not have to be a perfect Christmas in order to be enjoyed.

If Christmas was not everything that you expected it to be this time around, remember that Christmas will come again next year.

Each one of us can do something to bring about a better Christmas next year and with respect to other Christmases, for many years to come. We can begin to plan seriously for Christmas, so that each one is better than the last one, which we just celebrated, endured, hated or ignored.

Look at my actual Christmas scenarios, just for fun.

"Bah, humbug," I only heard one time this year. 

"Oh, oh, not another Scrooge," I thought to myself. "We will always have at least one Scrooge in our lives around Christmas time. It would not be Christmas without him." The Scrooge concept makes us appreciate the folks who do celebrate Christmas in a joy-filled and loving way.

"Ho, ho, ho," I heard another elderly gray-haired man, say with a chuckle. As usual, he had a grin on his face, but then, he always seems to wear that kind of a grin. He cannot seem to wash it off. 

Perhaps he was born with a happy gene that has yet to be identified and confirmed. It appears that his Christmases are always wonderful ones, a time filled with fun, celebrated with family and friends. If there were to be some genetic studies done with respect to the happy gene, perhaps in the future, it might be possible to do happy gene transplants for all of those who are truly unhappy people, or just unhappy with respect to Christmas?

"Just another day," one middle-aged woman said sadly. "I hate Christmas." 

Her Christmas was a mad rush to get everything done, as she frantically ran from store to store trying to do everything for everyone.

"This is my time now," she finally said, during the week after Christmas. "I don't care about anyone else right now." 

It appeared that she had contacted a bad cold from someone, which did not seem to help her mood. I thought to myself, "How horrible it must be to hate Christmas. It must be terrible to be sick at Christmas time."

Personally, I love Christmas and everything that it represents, well almost everything.

Of course, there were the usual Christmas pranksters again this year.

First, I found a huge, musical note carved by some amateur Jack Frost artist, into the icy pattern on the glass of my front door. I never did find out who was so musically inclined, but I think whoever it was, might have been been wanting to make some music, hoping to sing Christmas carols, or perhaps he or she was into the sauce. It was actually quite well drawn.

The same day to my surprise, I found one small screw left on my doorstep, carefully placed in between my two front doors. I think that whoever it was that that put it there must had at least one loose screw. 

"I was here," it said silently, without any explanation at all.

There was a mean or nasty person who had to break the head off a gingerbread-man cookie and then left it for someone else to eat. That was no Santa's elf or Santa Claus himself, as Santa would have eaten the entire cookie and then left nice presents under the Christmas tree. Next year, this person gets a lump of coal from Santa, not a homemade cookie.

There will always be mischievous folks around at Christmas. Perhaps they are just attention seekers. The problem is that they never stick around long enough to get any attention, or to give any attention to someone else. They just do their fun, mischief or damage and then run.

There was the traditional, country, family celebration held several weeks prior to Christmas. It seems that one part of the family enjoyed it and the other obviously did not. Everyone had to listen to complaints from them. The complainers did not put any effort into the celebration; nor did they appear to help in any way. After over-indulging, they just sat there like bumps on a log, until it was time to go home. Their sole contribution was their magnificent presence.

There was the call or two, from those who were dreadfully lonely and on the verge of tears, because there was no one there to celebrate Christmas. Someone could have been invited, but it takes an extrovert with an introvert's heart to welcome others into one's life, especially at Christmas. When asked if they had sent out their Christmas cards, the answer was an angry, "No! I don't do cards."

There was the traditional Christmas Eve celebration, where a few people gave and received gifts, but most of them just ignored the gift giving part of Christmas and thus, there were almost no gifts under the tree.
They were all quite willing to accept gifts and were critical about the gifts they had received. They did not have the heart to give presents. When asked about when Santa would be coming to their home, the reply was, "He has already been there." So much for others.

"What about Christ being born," I wondered. "He is the greatest gift of all! Is that not why we celebrate Christmas in the first place? Is that not why we give gifts to one another? Is that not why there is joy in celebrating the holiday?”

What about next Christmas?

 Let's put Christ back into Christmas. After all, He is the reason for the season. 

What will next Christmas bring? 

With planning ahead of time, Christmas can be wonderful. Christmas should be something special for everyone, not just another day with which people have to cope.


Sunday, June 22, 2014

Writers: Channeling Butterflies and Dragons



"What a wonderful world this is to explore!" the new writer says, excitedly.

A butterfly writer has just emerged from her cocoon, taking her first breath of fresh morning air. For her, a brand new horizon has just opened, one that contains fresh thoughts, new ideas and amazing concepts. This tiny butterfly is ready to spread her delicate wings and fly about freely in her new-found literary world.

"Wow!" she marvels, gazing in wonder at what she sees.

What a fantastic world this is for an emerging butterfly writer as she flutters on by. Eternally young at heart, full of energy and life, the butterfly deals with stark reality separating fact from fallacy, revealing her own beautiful, young soul on her journey of discovery.

What emerges from the butterfly's thought process is the call of the wild, heralding new excitement and adventure. Futuristic, progressive and opportunistic pathways in the sky, so to speak, are there simply to be explored in terms of her potential butterfly migration.

Meanwhile, the tired old dragon still breathing fire, has just re-awakened from a long slumber. The dragon writer finds that he is stuck in the mud as usual, after wearing out his old rubber boots stomping around in his forest of utter confusion.

His world is actually a combination of fiction and fantasy. He has lived most of his life in this kind of a non-reality dream. He is the typical old soul perched on the shelf of time and he is almost ready to fall off.

"God's going to get you," the old geezer hollers at the young, ambitious butterfly. He is unaware of the geese flying overhead. In fact, he cannot even recall what geese sound like. His googling consists of oogling as he watches the young butterfly working away at her research on the internet, while she listens to and enjoys the sound of the geese flying by.

"What do you think God is going to do with me, when He gets me?" the butterfly answers back, sweetly. "God loves butterflies. After all, didn't He create us too?"

The butterfly is too busy analyzing the difference between a diamond and zirconium to argue with the dragon who insists in no uncertain terms, "Diamonds only, thank you."

"That is a wonderful idea!" she says, although she is not really paying any attention to him. She is merely acknowledging the reality that he is still there.

While the butterfly is actually out there researching and preparing for migration, the old soul is simply re-contemplating becoming a snowbird, but he knows that the actuality probably won't enter into reality's picture. It is just a dream, a someday maybe kind of expectation.

"Someday," he promises himself. "Maybe." He realizes that he has had that same dream for many years and regrets that he has never acted on it.

Thinking for the dragon writer has more like become work. It is no longer fun. It is a drag-on and on, kind of thought process, a combination of contemplation and reminiscing. But then that is allowed, as after all, the ancient dragon is into premature aging, or actual old age.

In contrast, the new kid on the block writer in the emerging butterfly stage, is still growing and her perception is more like that of googling.

"Flutter byes versus bygones," the old dragon groans sadly. "The arm and hammer concept is what works, what sells, what people want," he insists. "Hammer the world into the ground before they hammer you!"

At heart, the old soul writer knows that his time is running out. His work is not innovative, but he does not realize that. What he writes is no longer exciting either to him or to others.

"In fact, it is boring!" he tells himself, knowing that it no longer offers a challenge to anyone.

"Wow!" he exclaims when he finally gives in to his curiosity and consents to read the writing of the butterfly.

"These ideas are new, innovative, exciting and challenging," he decides, but secretly he knows that he will never tell the butterfly that. "What has she got that I do not have?" he asks himself. "Youth? You can't hold that against me!"

"How do we possibly channel butterflies and dragons?" asks the editor. "After all, is that not the bottom line? The butterfly and the dragon are totally different in perspective. The perception of the butterfly writer is opposite to that of the dragon writer. It is like life being compared to death."

"Channel butterflies down butterfly channels," cries the reader. "Then, we can read what butterflies write."

"And channel dragons down dragon channels," concludes the editor. "That is exactly what I will do, but maybe I will put the two side by side, now and then, just to show how different they really are!"

And so he does just that.

Christmas Eve: What if Rudolphia Was the Red Nosed Reindeer?



"What if Rudolph had been born a girl?"

"A girl, how silly can you get? Then, we would have had to call her Rudolphia!"

"And she'd have to wear a skirt!"

"Gee, that is time-dated thinking, besides which, reindeer don't wear clothes. Maybe they should?"

"Seriously, you are gender-bending, if you ask me."

"Who asked you for your learned opinion?"

"Gender-defending Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer, would seem to be much more appropriate, don't you think?"

"Let see, Rudolphia, the red-nosed reindeer; might work!"

"What a dumb idea! How on earth did you come up with that nonsense?"

"Rudolphia, with your nose so bright, won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"

"Maybe that puts a new light on this children's fantasy? Either that, or someone should put out the light, so you can get more beauty sleep!"

"Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer, is a gender-biased story."

"And a song loved by children of all ages around the world."

"Santa is just an old geezer who loves kids, for some strange reason."

"To a bunch of old ladies like us at a Christmas Eve party, perhaps."

"In the world of what-ifs, there is still a lot of room for fantasy, adventure and the exploration of new ideas for women."

"Just tell me something. In Santa's bag of books, or sack of Christmas tales, where does Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, still fits in today? Isn't he kind of out-dated? This is a serious question, you know!"

"Serious for some women, perhaps."

"Maybe this is just more finger-food for thought?"

"It is certainly not going to make a psycho-analytic thriller of any kind."

"Let's write a mystery! Maybe Santa gets fleeced, by Rudolphia."

"Seriously, I think this is a call to leadership by women, for women."

"Rudolphia, won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"

"Santa called Rudolph to action. Do you think that he would call Rudolphia the same way? How would all of the other reindeer have reacted, I wonder?"

"You might be right, but on the other hand, maybe this is going to be a judgment call for Rudolph?"

"He was a primary role model that is entirely outdated now and male, at that!"

"That role is by invitation only."

"Right, for men only?"

"We will have to think about that."

"Hey, what is all that clatter on the roof?"

"Maybe that is Rudolphia, but maybe not?"

What It Takes to Wake Up a Generation: Wake Up World, There's a Gasoline Shortage



A man pulled his car up to a gas station.

"Whew! I did it," he said. "I wondered for a moment, if I was going to be able to do that!"

He had run out of gasoline, a few miles back and decided that he had enough strength to push the car to the next gas station. Since he was aware that part of the road was downhill, he knew that was not going to be a problem.

He got behind the car and began to push it. Once he managed to get it moving on the gentle slope, he knew that all he needed to do was to steer it in the right direction, so he hopped back into his car. He managed to cover several downhill miles that way, but when the car reached the bottom of the hill, it stopped. 

He jumped out.

"I guess I will have to find another plan of action," he decided. He tried to push it again, but at best, it only moved a foot or two. "This is exhausting," he said. "I give up!"

Suddenly, he had an idea. He opened his trunk and began searching through it, and found a piece of rope. He made it into a harness and started to pull the car.

"This is heavy work," he decided, "But it works." 

Bit by bit, he managed to tow it to the gas station. The only thing that he did not know was that the gas station had closed that week because there had not been a gasoline delivery.

"There's another gas station about two miles down the road," the sleepy attendant told him. "They might still have some gas."

The man put his makeshift harness back on and began pulling his car down the road again.

"Why don't you lighten your load?" the gas station attendant called out to him, but he did not hear.

"That silly old guy," said the attendant. "He could have lightened his load by emptying out his trunk.

A few hours later, the man pulled his car into the second gas station. Most of the way had been a straight, flat road, so he was able to move the car along quickly, just by pulling it. He was getting really tired.

"You know that big tandem truck that passed by here a couple of hours ago," said this gas station attendant. "He just drained out our last fifty gallons, so we don't have any gasoline here either. I can give you a drink of water though," he told the man. "It will cost you ten dollars."

"Ten dollars," said the man. "Ten dollars is all I have for gasoline! That is highway robbery!" He became upset.

"Well, water is as scarce out here, as gasoline," replied the gas station attendant.

"I need some water," decided the man and gave the attendant his last ten dollars. "I think that I will spend the night here."

"Not so fast, as we don't allow transients," said the gas station attendant. "Well, maybe if you give me something for it, I can let you stay this one time."

"I just gave you my last ten dollars," replied the man, getting angrier. "I'll tell you what! I will give you my spare tire."

The man stayed the night and paid for it with his spare tire.

"You have to get that car out of here," the attendant insisted, early the next morning. "Move it right now."

"But I need some breakfast," said the man. "I am hungry."

"You have to pay for it," replied the attendant. "Give me your tire jack and I will give you breakfast."

A little while later, the man towed his car down the road again. He found a hill or two with downward slopes and managed to get a few more miles down the road. He had some uphill slopes here too. Those were tough going.

Several children biked on by.

"You need to lighten your load," one of them called out to the man, but he did not hear.

Finally, discouraged and angry, the man decided to ditch the car.

"I have to lighten my load," he decided and started walking. "Those hills are too much for me," he said. "Besides which I really don't need that car if I have to push and pull it everywhere I go. Maybe they will have a can of gasoline at the next gas station. Then I can come back for you," he said to his old car, sadly. He really did not want to leave it there.

"No gasoline here either," the next gas station attendant said. "Somebody stole our last gas can, anyhow."

"I am getting very hungry," said the man. "And thirsty."

"Well, I will feed you if you give me your leather boots," the attendant said. The man did not bother to argue and parted with his leather boots. At the next gas station, he gave the attendant his jacket. His feet were very sore now and he knew that he was going to be cold.

"I give up! What on earth did I ever get myself into by buying that car?" he asked himself finally, sitting down on the side of the road. "I should have kept my old horse. It did not need gasoline. I wonder what it takes nowadays to wake up a generation in our world, to a gasoline shortage."


Fashion Trends: A Look at New Fashion Trends With an Eye to the Future



You can start a new fashion trend for the future, simply by creating a collection of brand new definitions in terms of fashion design. For example, try a few of these new fashion definitions on for size and fit.

Wafflies: Fashions for the pancake type personality with clothing made out of very thick and heavy materials, bold, boring designs and weigh-me-down boots. Don't forget the big round glasses.

Rufflies: Fashions for the perky pet personality, who always wants clothes that are pretty, flattering and bouncy.

Wufflies: Fashions that are uniquely me or uniquely you, for those people who are full of life's energy and love to live life well, but only as themselves.

Glafookles: Fashions that are weird in design, but still quite wonderful for those who like to be different all of the time.

Klagookles: Fashions that are bizarre in terms of design or fabric, especially for those who like to be way out in left field, at least some of the time.

Begunckles: Fashions for the knock you down or drop dead, high fashion personality. Don't forget the six inch spike heels.

Befunckles: Fashions for people who really enjoy laughter and live life. Keep these clothes loose fitting.

Willy Watts: Fashions for the ‘you light up my life’, bright, stand in the light, kind of personality. Shiny and cool.

Woolly Watts: Fashions for those people who love the comfort of warm, woolly or fuzzy clothing. Snuggle ups.

Fergunkles: Fashions for those people who go for that animal look and insist on having clothing that is either trimmed with or made out of fur, real or fake.

Bejeangoes: Fashions that are for the blue jeans only, personality types. Include the leather cowboy boots, belt and hat.

Karibles: Fashions for those who love to wear something that looks simply terrible.

Now that these new fashion trends have been introduced in fun and defined. All that remains is for someone to work out the brand new fashion designs. Guess which one will be the most popular and likely to succeed.

You may have the making of a new fashion trend. Tongue in cheek, trends are only in vogue if you, as a person, as well as others, are willing to support them. Supporting a new trend might just be the key to your own personal success, that is if you support the right trend, at the right time. You can always change the trend that you choose to support at a later date, if you can afford to do so. Remember that whatever trend you support reflects you and your personality, so choose wisely.

Have fun doing so. Is that not what new fashion trends are all about?

Saturday, June 21, 2014

Fishing: The Encounter



"Oh, oh!" I said to myself, as I saw the yellow and green half-ton truck barreling down the dirt road, cross over the bridge, make a quick left hand turn, pull up right beside us and slam on the brakes. When I read Conservation Authority on the door of the truck, and saw the faces of the two men who were inside, I knew that we were in big trouble.

The summer day had started nice, as the weather had turned warm, after an early morning cloudburst. It seemed like a perfect day to get out and about.

"Let's go fishing," I suggested to Gayle. "I just bought some fishing gear and I want to set up a fishing pole for Crystal."

Crystal was eleven, almost twelve years of age, a lovely native girl, who had been brought to live with her grandparents. Almost as soon as we met, she had asked me if I would adopt her, because her parents had disappeared. No one had any idea where they were, or if they were coming back. I knew from the expression on her face that she was scared and I could tell that she had already adopted me.

Actually, I was kind of liked the idea.

"Sure," Gayle said. "That sounds like a great idea. Can we go out to see my old house and do some fishing in the river there? We might catch some trout."

"Sure," I said, with a smile. "Do you know how to get there?" I did not know exactly where it was located, but knew it was out in the country.

"Of course," she replied. "Just follow this road. It goes there."

I was hesitant, as it was against my better judgment to head out anywhere without a road map, but she seemed certain that this was the right way to go. 

An hour or so later, I began to realize that we were not going to get there on this road. We were heading directly north into wilderness country. I knew that we should have been going west.

"This seems like a long way," I said to Gayle, finally. "Are you certain this is the right road?" It had not turned west.

After questioning her further, I began to realize that she had no idea where we were. I was not about to panic, as I figured I could just turn around and go back the same way that we came. Rather than driving around all day, I wanted to get in some serious fishing.

Just then, we came to a bend in the road.

To our left, I saw a large body of water. I knew that this could not be the river where we wanted to go fishing. It was a lake that seemed strange to me, but somehow it brought back some vague recollections of a place that I had once visited.

"I see a boat launch pad just over that bridge," I said, not wanting to alarm her. "That looks like the perfect spot! We can do some fishing there, right on the shore." I had already decided not to go any further along this road. "I can turn around there too," I said to myself.

I drove into the boat launching area carefully, trying not to hit any of the big puddles, in case we got stuck in the mud. I could see the remnants of a campfire that had been rained on and fresh tire tracks. Someone had probably spent the night there.

"Hey, it is a nice place!" Gayle said. "Can eat our lunch here? I am going to take some charcoal home with me. I can draw with that! I didn't bring a fishing pole."

"I know, not a problem," I said. "We'll cut a willow pole for you and I have everything else you'll need in the trunk. Grab a can of pop out of the back. Take out one for me, too."

As I got out of my car, I took a careful look around. This appeared to be a long lake with a river that fed into it at one end. Across the lake, I could see a few summer cottages, so it looked relatively safe. There was not a soul in sight.

I grabbed my car keys and dug deep in the trunk of my car for the new fishing gear that I had just purchased. I had not even taken the time to unwrap the packages or remove the price tags. 

"I have everything we need! Here, this willow branch is just about the perfect size for a fishing pole," I said, reaching into the back pocket of my blue jeans. I pulled out my penknife to cut it for her. "It is almost as long as you are tall."

I had an ulterior motive. That was just about how tall Crystal was. I figured Gayle could use it for the moment and if she did not want to keep it, then it would become Crystal's fishing pole. I could cut off about six inches of the pole and leave it set up for fishing. I was certain that Crystal would be thrilled with it.

"Let's see, fishing line, bobber, weight and a fishing hook!" Gayle was getting excited, as she watched me set everything up. "Now we need some bait."

I saw another puzzled look on her face.

"We don't have any," she replied.

I walked over towards one of the big, mud puddles and lifted a huge, flat rock. Sure enough, there were a couple of juicy looking fish worms. I knew that there would be. I baited the hook with one of them.

"Hang onto this one for me," I said, as I handed her one of the other fish worms. By the look of her face, I knew that it must have been a long time since she had been fishing.

"Yuk," she said, as it wiggled in her hand. "You are cute!" she said to the fish worm, after a moment.

"There, that's perfect! Go to it," I said with a smile, handing her the pole.

Gayle smiled back at me, but I could see that she still did not know what I meant, so I took the end of the line that had the fish worm on it and tossed it into the water for her. The water was about six inches deep there. She was delighted.

"All right!" she said, handing me the other, wiggly fish worm.

"Now for mine," I replied and began to set up my fishing pole too. It was a collapsible, compact fishing rod that would fit into my fishing box, although the only thing I had not purchased yet, was the box for the fishing gear. It took me a couple of minutes to figure out how to use the rod. 

"Hey, not a bad cast at all! This works great! We might even catch ourselves some fish for supper. It has been a long time since I went fishing."

Gayle was standing there, very quietly holding her pole in the six inches of water.

That is the moment when I spotted the trunk speeding down the gravel road, on the other side of the lake.

"I want to see your fishing licenses," the man in the driver's seat said abruptly, as he got out of the truck and walked towards us. He was at least six feet tall with very dark hair and big, bushy eyebrows. He was obviously a conservation officer.

"I did not know that we needed licenses," I replied, stunned at what he had just said. "I am sorry. I had no idea. I have not been fishing in northern Ontario for years and years. We never needed licenses then."

"You don't have fishing licenses and you two are fishing?" I could sense his displeasure. "These girls don't have any fishing licenses," the conservation officer hollered to the other man still sitting in the truck.

"What on earth are you two doing here without any fishing licenses?" he asked.

"Hmm," he said, as I explained to him about Crystal. "That’s a likely story. Give me your driver's licenses then. You do have those, don't you?"

"Sir," I said politely. "It is not like we are trying to do anything illegal. Gayle has a willow pole and it is about six inches of water that she is fishing in. It is not highly likely that we are going to fish the lake out, or anything like that. Besides that, we just got here."

"Your licenses," he insisted. "You know that you could lose all of your fishing gear for fishing without a license?"

"No," I said honestly, as we both pulled out our driver's licenses and handed them both to him.

"And your gear too," he said sternly. "I am going to check you two out."

"Aw, come on, we are doing this for a twelve year old, native girl that I am considering adopting," I said. 
"Please. This is only pop that we are drinking."

The officer headed back to his truck with our driver's licenses and all of our fishing gear. He did not say one word, as he got in and slammed the door shut. We could hear the two men talking, but could not hear what they were saying.

"It's all right," I said to Gayle, trying to re-assure her. "He will give them back to us."

"I don't know," she said. "He looks pretty mad to me."

I was not all that certain that he would give anything back to us either.

We waited patiently and watched him using a radio of some kind. Then the two men just sat there in the truck and talked for a while. It seemed forever and a day.
"All right," he said finally, as he got out of the truck and walked over to where we were waiting patiently. "You will know better next time, I hope."

"By the way sir, can you tell us where we are?" I asked as he handed our driver's licenses and the fishing gear back to us.

"Surprise Lake," he replied, with a straight face. He turned back towards his truck and did not say another word. As they left, we could hear them roaring with laughter.

We laughed too, as we carefully packed up all of our gear and headed back the same direction that we came from.

I knew exactly where we were then. I had spent part of a summer at Surprise Lake, when I finished grade twelve, as a babysitter for a family with two little boys. No wonder the place looked so familiar to me!

"Anyhow, I have a fishing story to tell Crystal," I said to Gayle. "Let's stop at the old country store and get an ice cream on our way home." I knew exactly where that was and sure enough, the old store still sold ice cream.

As for Crystal, I soon learned that adopting her meant that she thought that she had immediate and total access to everything that I owned. Thus, so much for the adoption that never did happen.