That family that breaks a hotel bed together stays together?

If you know my mom then you'll know these were all her idea. Pretty great right?

Most Mom's say don't jump on the bed, my mom says, "Me first!"

The best Christmas tradition ever.

My favorite Christmas tradition is called the Christmas ball. This tradition comes from Marian D Hanks. My great grandfather served a mission with President Hanks and incorporated this Hanks tradition into our own Christmas celebrations.

We do the Christmas ball on Christmas eve. Everyone sits in a big circle on the floor and we start to roll the ball.

The ball used to be rolls of paper towels with a prize taped to each square but now we use beautiful material balls my Aunt made. Each pocket has a prize something like; gum, pencils, whistles, dish clothes, (I hated getting dish clothes as a kid) gift cards, and the occasional number.

The numbers are the best prizes, they mean you'll get a BIG prize after the ball is over. There are also papers in some of the pockets and they usually tell you to do something like sing "Jingle Bells," or hand your prize to the person next to you. These papers usually crack me up so long as I'm not the one who finds them in my pocket.

The big prizes that come with the numbers are usually the most exciting part. Your number might get you something fantastic like a bottle of sparkling cider, makeup, a candle, and once I even got an Mp3 player. There are also prizes that kind of stink like; a Chicago Bears wall clock, a solar powered pocket calculator, or jumper cables (which I later found out didn't work very well at all), etc.

The Christmas ball is the best! Even if you're the one to end up writing your name with your hips in front of everybody and win a glasses case as your prize. It's odds on, that you'll have fun being with your family, laugh lots and at least get a dish clothe or two out of it, which I no longer dread and totally hope I get.

The Empty Shoe

At Christmas time My Aunt will write a Christmas story and send it out to us. I always look forward to them. There was one special story that touched my heart so much that I've thought about it every Christmas since, and this year I thought I'd share it with you.

The Empty Shoe

It wasn't easy for any of us but it was definitely hardestfor Anna when Joshua and Amber moved in. Josh and Amber were foster children who were living with us. Anna was the baby of our family, though no one had dared call her a baby for a long time. She was five, so was Joshua. Amber was six.

Josh and Amber had come from a bad situation. We had to teach them all sorts of things that most kids their age already know. They didn't know what dresser drawers were for or how to hang clothes in a closet. They didn't know how to make a bed, they didn't even know how to get into a bed – under the covers, between the sheets. They thought toothpaste was to eat like candy. They accused Mom of stealing their clothes when she gathered them up to put them in the laundry.

There were other things we tried to teach them. They thought that whoever yelled the loudest was right. Josh especially, seemed to think that hitting was the most effective form of communication. It was not easy to live with Josh and Amber. You never knew what Amber was going to say or do, but with Joshua at least he was consistent. You know he'd hit you.

By December things were calming down – a little bit. Amber only shrieked about once a day. Joshua wasn't swearing or spitting much and instead of screaming, “You need to shut up your fat face you fatty!” he bellowed “Pleeeeeeease be quiet!”

But he still hit. He'd walk by and bop you just because he didn't like the way you looked. Anna had it the worst. Joshua was really mad that she was older than he was – a whole two months. And since she was the only one in the house smaller than he was – he smacked her every time he got close to her.

We were getting ready for Christmas. Joshua and Amber liked the decorations, they loved the music. They were nuts over the presents and the tree. They were a little confused about the Christmas stockings, they'd never had any before. But they felt better about them when they learned that they didn't have to wear them. I must admit my brothers and sisters (and I) found a great deal of delight in telling them about Santa and his elves who were watching and that naughty children wouldn't get anything for Christmas. Most of the time Joshua would just glare and say, “ I don't care.” But I did overhear him asking Mom if she thought Santa would bring him something.

One of our traditions is St Nicholas Eve. On December the 5^th, before we go to bed, we each set out one of our shoes. Inside of it we leave our letter for Santa Claus and a carrot for his reindeer. The next morning the letters and carrots are gone and our shoes are filled with candy. It looks pretty impressive, that long line of shoes full of goodies. And this year there were ten shoes in a row!

The little kids were so excited that they started lining their shoes up on December 1^st. No one was more excited than Joshua. We had to explain to him over and over all about the letters and candy. The more excited he got the wilder he got. He was spending most of his time in time-out. Then he refused to stay in time-out and Mom or Dad had to hold him – tightly- while he kicked and screamed and thrashed around until he decided he was ready to settle down. He didn't seem to believe us when we told him that Santa wouldn't bring him anything. By St. Nicholas Eve Josh was totally out of control. He slugged poor Anna every time she was in the same room. He tore up a book. He pounded on the piano. He knocked over chairs. He yelled. He threw his toys. He slammed doors. He sassed, he spit, he swore.

Finally Mom, who was holding him in her arms while he hollered told him, “Joshua, I am very sorry. Until you stop hurting others, you will lose all special privileges.” I don't think he understood what she said, but he did get very quiet when she set him down and took his shoe from the line in front of the Christmas tree. Later, after he'd been sent to bed, I saw him sneak out of his room and carefully put his shoe back.

We woke up early the next morning and St Nicholas had come. We all hurried to claim our shoes. We were noisily exclaiming over our bounty when we noticed Joshua. It got very quiet. Joshua looked at the shoe in his hands. It was empty. He held it up to his face and peered inside. He turned it upside down and shook it. He reached his hand in – all the way. Then he looked at us. His face crumpled and he sobbed and sobbed. I was about to tell him “I told you so,” when I saw Anna. She held out her hands to Joshua. Her arms bore the scratches and bruises that were Josh's signature. In one hand she held her candy cane and the other hand was full of bright foil wrapped chocolates.

“Don't cry, Joshua, you can have mine.”

Before the tears had dried on his face, Joshua's shoe was overflowing as we each shared, even Amber. He grinned happily as he counted his candy, but sometimes he would stop and look at Anna with a puzzled expression.

I wish I could say that Joshua's heart “grew three sizes that day.” He didn't change much, not right away. But I think we changed. You can't love someone, really love someone, whether they're nice or not, without that love blessing you.

And when it is hardest to love a person and you love them anyway, really love them, that love changes you. Joshua not only had never had a real Christmas before, he'd never really been loved before. But that's what Christmas is all about, isn't it!

Merry Christmas.