Christmas time could certainly be called a sweet time of year.
'Sweet' can be referring to the foods that seem to be linked to Christmas,
but even more sweet are the memories made.
One of my father's brothers has never gotten married.
He says he's still praying for the right one.
I have to admit, I think my sisters and I,
and all of the cousins that are on my dad's side
are secretly, selfishly glad he never did.
Of course, we'd love to see him meet the right girl,
but he loves life so much, it's always a delight to be with him.
Just say, "Uncle is here,"
and there is a mad, screaming dash from all parts of the house,
racing to be the first to greet him.
He's always just a phone call away,
and he'll somehow manage to hop in his car
and drop in for a visit for a few hours.
We call him the kid magnet.
I have so many memories with Uncle,
and nearly every one of them brings back a smile mingled with laughter.
He has never lost his sense of fun and adventure,
patience and compassion.
So when I had some gingerbread houses that needed to be built,
Uncle was the obvious choice for the engineer.
His house was built and well on it's way to being a great edible centerpiece...
while my attempt at putting my house together
ended up relocating to his side of the table for help.
Mark it down:
I cannot build houses.
Uncle's house, carefully decorated by the little crew,
was a sweet success.
Isn't it funny how looking at a picture can bring with it
the sound of the laughter that went with it,
the suggestions and jokes and merry moments.
Well, for the most part, they were happy memories.
Still, even if one was a dismal failure...
there is always a good that can come of learning from it...
especially if the clean-up crew is happy to do the job.