Heart Book Series

One of the things that I love about living from the heart is the deeper connection it has given me with animals. Our words can lie. Our energy never lies. Like animals, the heart is authentic. Animals respond authentically to the energy of things, because rarely do they speak our words. Without the distraction of verbal communication and mental chatter, they can be free to see things more as they actually are. From this presence and direct relationship, we receive their bottomless unconditional love and forgiveness!

Unless, that is, they feel threatened. In which case animals can balk at the slightest motion, even if it is not an attack. And in this, they are beautiful mirrors from our own hearts, showing us where the antiquated survival strategies in our own animal nervous systems and lower brains have taken us over. Like my cat, who will forgive me in an instant if I accidentally step on his tail or land on him when doing yoga by mistake, but has an absolute war of terror going on with the sound of any innocent plastic bag rustling as groceries are taken from it. There is no question that animals are mirrors of our own consciousness. Like other events in life but perhaps more immediately obvious, animals reflect back to us whether we are at peace, insecure, predatory, aggressive. In some ways, animals are a feedback device like the emWave biofeedback technology, which reflects our heart rhythms in real time, showing us whether we are truly in a state of internal order and happiness or just deluding ourselves in our denial and chronic stress.

–Sheva Carr, Fyera

I grew up with practical grandparents who had been frightened by the Great Depression in the 1930’s. A grandmother, God love her, who washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then reused it. She was the original recycle queen, before they had a Name for it.. A grandfather who was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones. Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barely a wave away. I can see them now, Grandpa in trousers, tee shirt and a hat and Grandma in a house dress, lawn mower in one hand, and dish-towel in the other. It was the time for fixing things: a curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress. Things we keep. It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy. All that repairing, eating, renewing, I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there’d always be more.

I received this from someone who thinks I am a ‘keeper,’ so I’ve sent it to the people I think of in the same way. Good friends are like stars . . . you don’t always see them, but you know they are always there.
 
-Author Unknown

Have you ever felt that your life was over?
The life you loved, cherished, and had dreamt about–just blasted into a million fragments and scattered in the wind?

It happened to me one winter’s day. I was divorced with a nine year old son. We had been through some challenging times, emotionally and financially. But everything, finally, was coming up roses. I had landed a job at a Fortune 500 up and coming small company. Not only had I landed the job, but the company was so thrilled with my interview, to make sure that I was happy and would stay on, they were wining and dining me. A few weeks before I landed the job, as a hobby, I had signed up for a computer repair course. It, too, was going wonderfully and was a super outlet. Without the financial stress hanging over me, my son and my relationship began to flourish.
 
We experienced one of the best Christmases that we had ever had together in 1997. But just a few weeks later, my life took a disastrous turn. Walking out of my computer class one night, one of my fellow classmates, a 300 plus pound rugby player, unthinkingly picked me up (as rugby players do to fellow teammates), and before I could holler from the pain caused by his two powerful fists being thrust into my spine, he knocked the wind completely out of me. I was left with a spinal cord contusion and spent the next year in bed. It felt as though 150 volts of electric current were being shot down my legs–the pain of childbirth paled in comparison. Because of the excruciating pain, for the first two weeks I wasn’t able to eat and lost approximately 12 pounds. After that, each day was a sickening blur of pain and tears. My father, thankfully, stepped in and took over the care of my son. (My mom had passed away five years before.)
 
The days endlessly dragged, one meshing into the next. And, with every passing moment, I grew into deeper despair and depression. Suicidal thoughts crossed my mind. I didn’t want to die; I loved my son and had loved my life, but I so desperately wanted a reprieve from the pain, I was considering all my options.
 
At times, I could venture out of bed for brief periods. It was excruciating to move, but I did manage to get out and see doctors. At 33 years old, I was told that mine would be a life of endless, relentless pain.
 
Yet after about six months of lying in bed crying, something in me shifted. My dark, ominous depression grew into anger. I knew I wasn’t the only one suffering with chronic pain. One out of three Americans live in constant pain. And, before this injury, I had spent 20 years, on and off, with back pain. I made a pledge to find an answer. And, I made a covenant that if I did find a solution, I’d come back and help others. I literally went on a crusade reading close to 200 books and articles on the back, joints, arthritis, and on health in general. I also picked up the phone and interviewed over 300 physicians, chiropractors, physical therapists and other healthcare practitioners.
 
One day it hit me; I had a major epiphany! I realized that the majority of the medical community was missing the real cause and, for that reason, the simple cure of almost every single musculoskeletal ailment (back pain, carpal tunnel syndrome, tendinitis, arthritis, etc.).
 
It‚s been nine years since my injury. I‚m now a therapist and a self-published author. And although I’ve only sold a few hundred books (my marketing has been pretty much nil), I’ve had people come for treatment from as far away as Florida (I’m in Los Angeles). Presently I share an office, but I’m contemplating opening up my own. If I do, I’ll offer my clients money back guarantees for everything from back pain, to arthritis, to carpal tunnel syndrome, to foot problems (like hammer toes and plantar fasciitis), and for many other ailments. During that year in bed, I was blessed and fortunate enough to literally find the cause and solution to many ailments that plague our society–and I want to tell the world. My goal is Oprah!
 
This past Christmas, as my boyfriend (Steve), my son (John), and I hiked through Zion National Park, I stopped at a waterfall. I told Steve and John to go on ahead, and that I‚d catch up with them. I watched the crystal water cascading over the majestic cliff and land like feathers on rocks laden with ice and snow. I marveled at the similarities of the water free flowing over the cliff with no difficulty, just as my body now climbed the mountain trails with amazing ease–a body completely free of pain. On this marvelous Christmas day, it dawned on me that I’d never want to go through that nightmarish year in bed again–but I wouldn’t change it for the world.
 
I had and continue to touch lives in ways that make my heart sing. People come to see me, some sobbing and depressed, some even suicidal, because of their relentless pain. Some people have serious ailments like severe disk herniations and arthritic knees that doctors say need replacing. Yet I have an unbelievable success rate.
 
Little did I know that cold wintry day, nine years ago, when I thought my life was over, it was merely in a metamorphic state. Out of a cocoon of unimaginable pain, I am able to painlessly spread my wings, embracing others–helping them lead pain free lives.
 
–Sue Crossen, CMT/injury & Rehabilitation Therapist
Author: Back Pain Breakthrough and Carpal Tunnel Syndrome Breakthrough
www.healingresults.com

Christmas is different once you grow up, move away from home, and find that as the wife of a man in the United States Air Force home is wherever you at at that moment in time.  Moving first to Selfridge Air Force Base in Michigan, Christmas there was much like any other with the cold weather and snow that I was used to in Wisconsin. What was different was not having family nearby. Sure there were the phone calls from Mom, Dad, Grandparents, presents that came through the mail in brown paper outer wrappings often weeks before the big day and cards from those friends back home that now seemed far away. Having to make sure that any cards and packages were sent out in time to arrive before the Christmas day. You learn to share these holidays with other military families living on base with you who are in the same situation. 
 
After two years in South Carolina, Bob, my husband, was in Vietnam where Christmas was a time alone, living in Hanahan, a small community outside Charleston Air Force Base, with now a family of four children we had added to our lives and waiting for his tour overseas to end. Shopping at the base for gifts for the family in the warmth of a Southern day just didn’t seem right and hard to get used to. Spanish Moss is nothing like the sight of snow sparkling and glistening as you peer out the window watching it fall. 
 
Winter in Minot, North Dakota, at the base was memorable, one I could have done without. Cold, and blowing wind, all part of winter along with snow that swirled constantly creating a haze because of the intensity where reaching zero degrees would have felt like a heat wave. The great parts were the Northern lights with their every changing rainbows of pinks, blues, yellows that would intensify and diminish like great bands of ribbons across the sky. Spectacular! Glancing out the window at night and looking twice to make sure that really was two white snowshoe rabbits in the yard, standing four feet tall, that you never saw in the light of day. Where did they go then? Not so good winter didn’t end then. Easter baskets in snowdrifts, eggs hidden in the basement, little league opening day canceled due to too much snow on the field. The worry all winter long, the hope that the car would start. 
 
On to California, where arriving at the end of August, thought we would die from the heat. How could anyone function in this hundred plus heat? The first winter here was great, the boys out riding their new bikes on Christmas, racing remote control cars up and down the driveway in shorts on a seventy- two degree day. March Air Force Base nearby to shop at for Christmas wearing sunglasses and in shorts. Quite a contrast from what we had just left behind. 
 
It is now thirty-seven years that have come and gone since I arrived here, and I have gotten used to Christmas without snow to shovel, having to layer clothes, put on snow boots, gloves, and sometimes, I look up at the mountains covered like huge ice cream cones with snow and think how beautiful it is, but most of all knowing the car will start. 
 
-Ruth Koepp

Giving

Every Christmas season when the Salvation Army bells start to toll, Christmas trees light up, people’s hearts either open or close, I think about it.

In my little, cold, seaside Massachusetts hometown, suffering from some of the varied, inexplicable sadness that can plague the human mind . . . my mother often wandered along Main Street. In the process, she occasionally befriended the homeless. Perhaps she saw in them kindred free spirits. Or, perhaps the lack of societal demands inside such a friendship comforted her.

There is one memory of a transaction between her and a homeless woman that never left me. I was five, all bundled up. She was old, and huddled in a shoddy blanket. Her usual camp was across the sidewalk from my mother’s favorite bookstore, the one filled with endless shelves of the rare and used.

It was a Cape Cod December night, a snowflake-less, cheerless December night, a not-even-another-car-on-the-winter-road December night. I trudged along the sidewalk ahead of my mother’s meandering path. Not a single streetlight seemed bright enough to cut the fog.

My mother’s steps halted behind me, so I turned. I watched in a mixture of awe and horror, as my mother, on food stamps, welfare, and housing assistance, pulled out the last five dollar bill she had in a purse stuffed full of coupons . . .and handed it to the homeless woman.

But then I saw a light bright enough to cut through the relentless gray. It was this woman’s glowing smile, as she muttered her “Thank you.”  My mother nodded, intermittently happy. We trudged forward.

 “But give it to your daughter.”

I turned again, but this time because the homeless woman had leaned forward, reached out to me, taken my little mittened hand, and stuck that five dollar bill right in it.

She had nothing left to give. Yet she held nothing back.

It was many, many Christmases later when I finally got it. That smile on the homeless woman’s face had actually come from the realization that she, too, was about to be able to give.

~Danica Oliver, Junior League of San Diego

The Holiday Season is always a special time for me. It has become even more important since I went 500 miles away to college three years ago. I don’t get to come home as often as I’d like to but I look at it as a way to make the moments I do go home even more special. Visiting family and friends for two weeks and making memories is something I find extremely special. Christmas of 2006 was probably my favorite Christmas. The year before my family had decided to spend Christmas and New Year’s in Hawaii and it just wasn’t as special. So Christmas of 2006 was even more important because it was back to normal and we weren’t lounging on the beach drinking strawberry daiquiris in 83 degree weather. It was full of two weeks of family time and tradition.

Perhaps the best part of this last Christmas was a trip my father and I took to San Francisco for the day. It must’ve been two or three years since I had been to San Francisco, a mere hour and fifteen minutes from my hometown of Modesto. My dad and I had planned it for just the two of us. We would drop my brother off at the Oakland airport because he had to get back to school and from there we would drive into the city.

The trip started out with my dad really having to go to the bathroom. We had gotten coffee from home and we didn’t even slow down until we dropped Christopher, my brother, off. Well, when the “urge” kicked in we were almost to the Bay Bridge and there is no way you can stop once you get on. God forbid we hit traffic! So we opted to stop before paying the toll to get on the bridge.

First, we found a Chevron station. We stopped the car and hopped out. The man at the counter explained to us that this Chevron doesn’t have public bathrooms. So strike one. I decided to drive from that point because my poor dad was about to burst. After so many years of him having to frantically stop for my little bladder, we found that the tables had turned and I was the one in charge of Operation Bladder Relief. The second place we stopped was a “Mom and Pop” coffee shop a few streets down.

“They have to have restrooms!” I exclaimed. “They are a coffee shop!” So we ran inside and the first thing we noticed was a big sign that said, “NO PUBLIC RESTROOMS. SORRY.” Strike two.

My dad said a word I can’t repeat in this story and we ran back out to the car. “Don’t worry Daddy! I will find you a bathroom! Just hold it! Think of the desert,” I said.

Finally we stopped near a dock in Oakland that was dedicated to the author Jack London. I decided to just stay in the car since I pulled up in a roundabout that had no parking. So my dad jumped out and was off to find a bathroom. The only problem was where we had stopped virtually nothing was open yet because it was still early in the morning. So after walking around for about ten minutes and asking a maintenance man who couldn’t decipher anything my dad was trying to ask him, he came back to the car.

“Ready?” I asked.
“No, I still couldn’t find one! Jen, I think I might just sneak behind that restaurant and go,” he replied.

After having a good laugh, I said, “Ok, hurry up! I’ll look out for anyone approaching your way and I’ll honk if they are.”

Well my dad was smart enough to check the restaurant he was going to illegally relieve himself on and it happened to be getting ready to open and they welcomed him to use their facilities.

After this now hysterical debacle, we were ready to get to San Francisco. We had decided to go to Alcatraz Island and take the tour because I had never been there before and I had always been interested in any type of American history. My dad accompanied my brother on a tour of Alcatraz when he was in boy scouts but I had never been. This was a special trip to me because it was something my dad and I could do so many years after he had done it with my brother. Alcatraz had so much history to it. It had been a military base, then a federal prison, then a group of American Indians occupied it until they got kicked off, and finally today it is operated by the government for tours and a glimpse of its incredible history. I wouldn’t want to share that tour with anyone other than my dad because we both appreciate history and interesting facts.

After the tour and we were walking back to Pier 39 to eat, it had started to rain. Well, being the young lady I am, I suffered a mini-crisis. I had just received my first pair of Ugg boots and everyone said you should never walk in the rain in them. Luckily, my dad is always prepared for anything and had a huge umbrella for us. I didn’t care so much about getting wet because I had four layers on and a hat so I continually tried to shift the umbrella over my boots instead of my head. My father, being the understanding and concerned parent he is, didn’t mind at all and sacrificed a wet head over a drenched pair of his daughter’s newest pair of boots. What an example of selflessness on his part, huh?

The day ended with us eating at a great seafood restaurant on Pier 39. He told me to order whatever I wanted, no matter the price. My dad and mom would give their right arm to make sure their kids were given any and every need they required and any want they desired. Thankfully for them, my parents had two kids who wouldn’t fully take advantage of that or else I don’t think they would even have a home to live in anymore!

On our way back to the car I thanked my dad for the best holiday experience we have shared thus far. I told him we need to do this at least every time I come home to visit. My dad and I are so alike that we could spend literally years exploring all that interests us.

“Hey, you’re my girl,” he said. I have heard this saying probably a million times throughout my life.

“And you’re my boy Dad,” I replied, as I always do.

-Jennifer Wirowek

by Sheva Carr, Founder of Fyera

It is that time of year when we get ready to eat too much. And then feel guilty for it.

Do holiday guilt and obligation ever eat at you for their Thanksgiving feasts?

It turns out that when we are in a state of appreciation, something unique happens to our heartbeats. They begin to drum in an orderly, harmonious rhythm. And because the heart is holding the baseline beat for the body’s entire orchestra, 1400 other things happen in our physiology when our heart rhythms change. Prolonged states of gratitude, with the ordered heart rhythms they produce, have been proven to:

• Boost immunity
• Increase the production of the feel good fountain of youth hormone DHEA
• Increase longevity
• Reduce mortality
• Improve brain function
• Improve memory
• Enhance decision making and reaction times
• Increase creativity and innovative problem solving
• Improve job performance and achievement
• Lower the risk of major diseases including heart disease, diabetes, alzheimers, cancer, osteoporosis, and more
• Reduce fat around waist and thighs

Yes! It’s true!  Concerned about holiday weight gain?

So being grateful for that extra piece of pumpkin pie is a better weight management strategy than depriving yourself out of guilt and self judgment! When we feel guilt, or other forms of emotional stress, it actually triggers a disordered rhythm in the heart, leading to another set of over 1400 physiological changes in the body including the release of the stress hormone cortisol. Excess levels of cortisol are present in:

• Cancer
• Diabetes
• Heart disease
• Obesity
• Hypertension
• Accelerated aging
• Reduced skin elasticity
• Brain cell death
• Compromised immunity
• Excess fat around waist and thighs
• And more

  Clearly, when we are in a state of thanksgiving, we are really getting- a lot. We are getting health, and youth, and vitality, improved performance and clear thinking. I have a whole business based around teaching people how to get the health and performance benefits of giving thanks through the heart. We even created a word for that special state of being in appreciation, and all the benefits we get from it- “Fyera!” But the holiday is not called “Thanksgetting.” So where does the giving come in?

  Research on the heart shows that an average person’s heart rhythm (one who is not even in an ordered state of gratitude!) can be detected more than eight feet beyond their body.  We all know this intuitively, because we’ve all experienced someone with a “contagious” mood. One person may walk into a room, and light everyone up with enthusiasm and inspiration. While another person may enter that same room and bring everyone down. Did you ever notice that people who light up a room tend to leave a trail of gratitude behind them? It’s their appreciation that has such a potent impact on us. Their gratitude produces an ordered heart frequency that literally impacts other hearts they come near.  This means that when you are in a state of gratitude, you are literally a source of more order in the world.

  All of the benefits of gratitude, from increased immunity to enhanced brain function, can be paid forward to those around us when we radiate our state of appreciation and ordered heart rhythms. One Nicaraguan street child appreciated me so much, that it inspired me to start a non-profit organization for other street children now serving hundreds of kids. Don’t underestimate the powerful potential of your appreciation to change the world!

  Giving thanks has ripple effects that cannot help but give back and give beyond. If you catch yourself slipping into self judgment, obligation, resentment, and other holiday treasons with justified reason this season, make that extra effort to shift your attention to something to appreciate- even if it’s just for your own health! Celebrate Thanksgiving guilt free this year, knowing that giving thanks is giving back.

  The nice thing about the physical benefit of gratitude is that it doesn’t matter WHAT you are grateful for. It can be super small stuff. Your body does not know the difference between gratitude for winning the Nobel Prize, or gratitude for a great pedicure. As long as you are grateful from the heart, the benefits come. This is good news, because gratitude is not always easy (at least for me) to access. But I know it is worth it, because even the little things I appreciate have big pay-offs for my health, well being, and ability to contribute. You can always find something to be grateful for- like your favorite piece of fruit, or the fact that you can walk and wiggle your toes when others have lost that luxury.

  Take a moment right now to connect with someone you appreciate. It might be a mentor, or a best friend, or pet (my own cat, sitting on my lap while I tap at the keyboard, started licking my fingers as I typed that last bit…Appreciation works!). What qualities do you appreciate about that person or furry friend? How does your body feel when you appreciate them? What happens to your ability to think? See what happens to them if you radiate your gratitude their way. It’s a fun experiment that can reveal that giving thanks truly is a gift.

  In 15 years of psychological research, Martin Seligman (head of the American Psychology Association) found only one thing that actually increased people’s happiness. It was not Prozac. It was not the right career, or finding Mr. Right. It was the simple act of writing a gratitude list at the end of every day.

  Try writing a “gratitude list” at the end of every day, between now and the holiday. Then watch the magic that gratitude creates in your life! Feeling good is not only good for you- it’s good for the world. That’s why our tag line at Fyera!, where we teach people to generate that feel good anywhere anytime is “Making a difference…in heartbeat!”

  With all that giving thanks gives back, to us and to our world, it might not be a bad idea to make every day a day to give thanks.

This Thanksgiving HeartStart call has been recorded and is available now via phone until Nov. 26 at 5:00pm Pacific Time at:
Free Conference Play Back, Playback Number: (641) 985-5108

After Nov. 26, download it free anytime at www.fyera.com/heartstart.html

For more great information, go to: www.fyera.com

Have you noticed that we appreciate things more when we lose them? I know I did before being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis at the age of 23 in 1986 when I went from a competitive athlete to being paralyzed from the neck down. Since that time, I have experienced numerous attacks of paralysis and blindness with varying degrees of recovery in between.

Now, I give thanks each night for the senses which I DO have, rather than the abilities I have lost. It’s amazing how beautiful a sunset is when you’ve lost your eyesight for a few weeks or how enjoyable a walk along the beach can be when you’ve been confined to a wheelchair, paralyzed for nearly a month. Since regaining my ability to walk, I truly appreciate playing a round of golf with my husband and traveling internationally as I’m no longer bedridden.Years ago when I was in a wheelchair during Canadian Thanksgiving, I decided to go to a Medical Healing retreat in Baja, California, Mexico. My recovery was so terrific that I was able to enjoy a “personal best” golf round one month later during the U.S. Thanksgiving weekend – I savored that turkey dinner in more ways than one! During times when I have lost my sense of touch and feeling to the degree that I could no longer appreciate the softness of my pet’s fur, I would take action with an “attitude of gratitude” and book an appointment at a spa – when my legs were numb, it was an ideal time to have them waxed!

Of all the holidays I celebrate each year, I enjoy Thanksgiving the most because it’s an opportunity to share with my loved ones the lessons I have learned about never taking things for granted and especially, to treat EVERY day like it’s Thanksgiving Day. I encourage them to practice Jack Canfield’s quote – “Each night when you go to sleep, try counting your blessings, instead of just counting sheep.”

~Jan Mills, Speaker, Health & Wellness Coach, www.janmills.net

Published in Heart of the Holidays

OUR DAILY BREAD

When my daughters were growing up we always bought wheat bread. Sandwiches, toast, French toast, you name it, it was wheat bread. When the girls were about three and five years old, we bought some white flour dinner rolls for our Thanksgiving dinner. Our guests were seated at the table, the turkey was being carved and I cut a roll in slices for the girls. I’m not sure what she thought we’d been eating all along, but when I put a slice on her plate, my three year old said, "Oh!  Clean bread!" 

-Joan Enguita, www.joanenguita.com

Published in  Heart of the Holidays

Princess Diaries-

My brother and I decided to enter the acting business when he was twelve and I was ten. After countless auditions and tiring drives to San Francisco, a mere hour and fifteen minutes from our hometown of Modesto, we finally landed a role as extras in the Disney movie, The Princess Diaries. I was a freshman in high school and my brother was a sophomore. We were cast to be students at the prep school the main character, Mia, attended.

I was excited to be able to miss a whole week of school but I didn’t realize how much work I would be getting myself into. My brother, mother, and I had to get up before dawn each morning to get to the parking lot in San Francisco and load into the bus that would take us to a holding area for the extras. We were two uniformed child extras amidst a crowd of about 100 other kids, all with the dream of getting on camera. I had always been the “tag-along” child. My brother had wild expectations of landing a movie role and making it big. I just wanted to come along so I could get out of school early. In fact, I couldn’t even act! I only had taken one acting class in my short lifetime, as opposed to the weekly classes my brother attended. I never wanted to play someone else. I always wondered, why do I need to be a character when I like to just be myself?

The experience was a long day mainly full of waiting. When we finally did get picked to get sent up to set, my brother, mother, and I would load onto the bus and get dropped off feet from the set. The woman immediately chose my brother and I to stand in front of the camera and pretend we were talking. After what seemed like thirty shots later, my brother and I ran out of things to talk about. We decided to just “lip-sync” the conversation.

I was dressed in a schoolgirl skirt with knee socks and in the frigid San Francisco weather, I was standing there shaking after what felt like an hour or two. Also, my legs were tired and I just wanted to sit. I knew that if I asked the director for a break, he would put someone else in my spot and I would miss my chance at getting on screen so I just sucked it up. Being minors, we got mandatory meals, breaks, and study periods. My mother also accompanied us everywhere. Looking back, I think of all the sacrifices she made to get us a split second in a movie. She had constantly taken off work to drive back and forth to San Francisco. All she wanted was for us to be happy and as soon as we got sick of it, she would stop taking us. I never felt pushed, prodded, or manipulated into auditioning for a part by my parents. They were the perfect supporters.

The other extras were interesting folks. Most of them were cocky and certain their big break was just around the corner. They tried almost anything to get close to the stars of the movie, Anne Hathaway, Mandy Moore, and Julie Andrews. Luckily, the three stars were down to earth and very inviting. I remember one boy in particular was almost positive he was Mandy Moore’s new best friend. Any chance he had, he would inch closer and closer to her in a scene and brag that they were going out for drinks once the day had wrapped. My brother and I simply laughed at this kid.

Overall, I’m glad I experienced this opportunity because it made me realize this business is not for me. I can’t stand around all day repeating the same thing over and over. I also realized that for only $100 dollars a day, I’d rather stay in school and get a job that will make me more than that. I have fond memories of the experience and I even have the proof on DVD so I can show my friends I was in a movie. I know exactly where I am in every school scene, even if it’s not on the screen. I know that there are many people out there more enthusiastic about acting and getting their big break. My best advice is to not give up but also be careful not to get too discouraged if you don’t get a part right away. Don’t beat yourself up for not getting a part. There is nothing you can do because they are looking for someone different than you. Your part will come, just be patient. Don’t change just because they needed a blonde or someone skinnier. Don’t compromise the person God made you into; because He made the perfect role for you, you just have to figure it out.

 – Jennifer Wirowek

Annually, the first part of November finds me wandering down memory lane as I fumble through my untidy batch of recipes. You see, my recipes are not neatly filed away on my computer, nor are they alphabetized in a cute recipe box; they are an embarrassing hodgepodge of cards, scraps of paper, and even a few envelopes. Yet, finding my favorites for the holiday season is never difficult.

Some dishes are recognized by the handwriting of the person that jotted it down at my request. Others were scribbled on any notepad that was handy at the time; and I search for a certain color of paper. As I rummage through my jumbled collection of recipes, it causes me to recall people, places, and events from the past-and I like it that way. For me, my filing system is perfect!

Still, one recipe card stands out amongst all other. The handwriting has faded, the yellowed edges are bent, and it has amassed an array of smudges over the years. Oh, but it is far from being just another dog-eared recipe card; it’s a special keepsake from my Mother, who is now deceased. This year I realized just how faint her handwriting had become on the aging card and it was promptly placed in plastic for protection.

I’d not been gone from home long before asking Mother for her Pumpkin Bread recipe. It had been part of every holiday I could remember, not to mention being decadent and habit forming. The recipe originated with my Grandmother, who died before my birth, and was handed down to my Mother.

That ragged, old card has traveled with me from state to state, kitchen to kitchen, and has generated more loaves of pumpkin bread than I would dare to count. Many were devoured at family dinners, and countless others have been given as gifts after being embellished with holiday ribbons and bows.

I often feel my compilation of favorite recipes is akin to a roadmap of my adult life, beginning with the Pumpkin Bread recipe from my mother. Others were gathered along the way in different states and different cities; some were offered by old friends, some by new friends, and some by relatives. I find myself being grateful for each person that came into my life and shared a special dish, several of which are now part of my traditional holiday fare.

Most times the roadmap of my life has directed me down scenic boulevards or tranquil country roads, although I’ve had my share of bumps and detours along the way. Upon reflection, I’m more than thankful for the journey.and all those who touched my life along the way.

©2006 Kathleene S. Baker

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kathy and her husband, Jerry, reside in Plano, Texas with two fur kids named Shiloh and Hank. Their other children are grown and have given them 4 grands. Kathy, a freelancer, has contributed to newspapers, anthologies, magazines, and online ezines. Her first piece of work was inspired by Josey, a very special Miniature Schnauzer. She writes a weekly column for Frank Talk Magazine entitled "Heart of Texas." She is Editor for Starfish which is a daily inspirational column. www.txyellowrose.com

Today, the day after Halloween, I "treated" myself to a refreshed hairstyle. Since my stylist, Adele Nizker, does all of my styling, and for my updated author and speaking photos, I "treat" her to a copy of the new books when ready. To boost her spirits, I decided to read a couple of the stories within the crisp, hot-off-the-press pages of Heart of the Holidays.

Being a mother herself, I thought she’d enjoy the light-hearted "Family Circus Christmas" on page 67, by Terri L. Hall from Baltimore, Maryland. We were both laughing away as this mother of 12 (yes, 12 kids) shares this true and hilarious story with a purposeful point. 

To respect Adele’s Jewish beliefs, I selected a story from the chapter on Hanukkah, "The Miracle of Lights" written by Marcia Reynolds, MA, MEd. The second paragraph in, reveals the setting of Russia, which happens to be where Adele is from. As the story and traditions unfolded with detail, Adele was noticeably nodding her head, as she clearly related and was touched at her heart, by the tender words. It was as if she was back in the ‘ol country, reliving her own childhood. It was truly a tender moment, we will both cherish.