OVER the hills of Palestine The silver stars began to shine; Night drew her shadows softly round The slumb'ring earth, without a sound.
Among the dewy fields and rocks, The shepherds kept their quiet flocks, And looked along the dark'ning land That waited the divine command.
When lo! through all the opening blue, Far up the deep, dark heavens withdrew; And angels in a radiant light Praised God through all the list'ning night.
Again the sky was deep and dark; Each star relumed his silver spark; The dreaming land in silence lay And waited for the dawning day.
But, in a stable low and rude, Where white-horned, mild-eyed oxen stood. The gates of heaven were still displayed For Christ was in the manger laid.
THEY'S a kind o' feel in the air, to me, When the Chris' mas time sets in, That's about as much of a mystery As ever I've run agin! - Fer instance, now, whilse I gain in weight An' gineral health, I swear They's a goneness somers I can't quite state- A kind o' feel in the air.
They's a feel in the Chris'mas air goes right To the spot where a man lives at! - It gives a feller an appetite - They ain't no doubt about that! - And yit, they's somepin' - I don't know what - That follows me here and there, And ha' nts and worries and spares me not - A kind o' feel in the air !
Is it the racket the children raise? W'y, no! - God bless 'em! - no! Is it the eyes and the cheeks ablaze- Like my own wuz, long ago? - Is it the bleat o' the whistle and beat O' the little toy drum, and blare O' the horn? -No! No! - It's jest the sweet - The sad sweet feel in the air.
Description of Coloring Page: children dressed in costume as Mary, Joseph and an angel with a trumpet, Christmas play for school or church, Nativity, a doll plays baby Jesus, shepherd staff, paper stars, theater curtain
"The school play tells the story Of the very first Christmas day. Each actor's in his glory And he knows just what to say!"
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Tiny cone figures were frequently produced by mass industry at the end
of the 1940s, primarily by the Japanese or in Germany for the North
American market place. Catalogue companies like: J. C. Penny, Wards and Sears sold cone figures by the thousands through the mail, while five-and-dime stores like Woolworth's
and made small fortunes by supplying the same kinds of factory made,
inexpensive holiday ornaments directly from store displays and shelves.
My vintage inspired angels are made the old-fashioned way, by hand. Factory made ornaments became popular after the first and second World Wars. Prior to that time, most ornaments were either made at home or supplied by various cottage industries throughout Western Europe and The United States, wherever Christmas trees were most popular. I've posted some examples of these manufactured angles below.
To make cone shaped angels, your will need the following supplies: cotton batting balls (for heads), decorative papers (tiny Christmas designs), scrap cardboard, trim for bottom of skirts (lace and rick-rack), acrylic paints for heads and arms, thin wire for arms, tiny novelties for angels to hold (see pictures), white glue and hot glue.
Step-by-Step Instructions:
Roll heads from cotton batting and white glue.
Cut out skirts
from patterned Christmas papers.
Shape and paste the paper skirts
into cones.
Glue the head on top.
Stuff the cone shaped skirts with
acrylic batting.
Glue a cardboard disk to the bottom of the cones.
Glue the pom pom features to the top of the head(s), one or two.
Wrap the string around the pom poms and above the forehead areas to make the hair design.
Cut the wings from decorative papers and glue these on.
Wrap cotton batting around thin wire and let dry.
Cut small pieces of that wire for arms and attach these with hot glue.
Hot glue tiny gifts for angels to carry: holly and berries, bows for presents, snowflakes, bottle brush trees etc...
Smear on touches of white glue and sprinkle angle wings with glitter.
Left, roll heads from cotton batting and white glue. Center, cut out skirts from patterned Christmas papers. Right, shape and paste the paper skirts into cones, glue the head on top. I stuff the cone shaped skirts with acrylic batting and glue a cardboard disk to the bottom of the cones.
Left, tiny cone angels hold: holly, bow and snowflake. Center several have bottle brush trees. Right, one has wings cut from a doily... and many have transparent glitter stuck to their wings.
Left, my tiny vintage cone angel ornaments. I hang these on my feather tree every Christmas. Right, old catalogue page shown. Elf-like figures. Pine-cone dwarfs, Santas, angels, snowmen. Cotton felt. Stand or hang from tree. Set of 15. From Japan. Shipping weight 12 oz.
Close up of a tiny vintage cone angle from the 1960s. This tiny angel has a metallic paper skirt and embossed gold wings. She carries two candles in her small chenille stem armature. Her head is made from cotton batting. She has a beaded collar and hair made from tinsel.
Close up of a tiny pink vintage cone angel from the 1960s. Her dress is made from painted pink cardboard sprinkled with silver glitter. She has white chenille stem arms and holds a tiny sprig of green to represent a tree. Her wings are embossed and pink, her head is a cotton batting ball and her yellow hair is made from a silky strand of yarn.
Left, are miniature angels with tulle skirts playing harps. Right the very same hold lights, seen in catalogue.
Pattern for making a cone angel and one version of wings.
One of many Christmas spiders that hang on our trees during the holidays. This one is made from wire and cotton batting and a tiny bit of paint. The face is modeled from Sculpey pressed into a factory made mold. I'm not sure whether or not one of these may be found just anywhere... So crafters may need to paint a small wooden bead and attach it to their spider's body for a head.
This cotton batting spider hangs on a white Christmas tree ordinarily, however, this year she has been hung on a woodland themed tree in our study.
Supply List:
Sculpey (oven-bake clay)
thin wire or chenille stems
acrylic paint
white cotton balls
white school glue
hot glue and hot glue gun
white thread
transparent glitter.
Step-by-Step Instructions:
First, cut long lengths of a thin wire or chenille stems to wrap with cotton batting. If you are using chenille stems, trim off excess fuzz, before wrapping these stems.
Unravel several white cotton balls and dap on the glue to the surface of the wire.
Twist the cotton fuzz around the sticky surface of the wire. You can roll the wire between the palms of your hands to get the cotton to adhere evenly.
Now shape the spider's web twisting and trimming off ends as you go. Hang the web and let dry.
To make the spider, cut eight short legs for the arachnid and wrap or glue these to a oval shaped bead.
Glue on a head, I molded one from Sculpey.
Cover the surfaces of the spider with a bit more cotton batting and glue and then attach the spider to the web using thread or hot glue.
Paint on a few details if you like. I painted stripes on this spider and highlighted eye-brows.
Brush more white glue on the entire surface of the spider and web to sprinkle on transparent glitter.
Left, the spider prior to painting. Right, the painted version.
The spider get a shower of glitter after painting.
Last year, my older daughter assembled this vintage wreath using dozens of cut felt leaves and her grandmother's collection of turned, wooden ornaments. Smaller collections that once hung on family Christmas trees can be displayed and preserved for future generations on wreaths. This display lends opportunity to appreciate vintage trinkets that ordinarily might get lost in jumbled shoebox collections fit only for rummage sales. What looks broken and uninteresting to folks digging through unwanted items, takes on a new purpose to those who have an eye for designing new displays. Wreaths may be adapted in size and design for far less expense compared to an entire Christmas tree display. They also make elegant, meaningful gifts for those confined to smaller living quarters, such as: retirement homes, tiny apartments, office spaces etc...
The snow lies thick upon the ground, The leaves have dropped from off the trees; Of woodland songs we hear no sound, For ice-cold is the bitter breeze.
The singing birds are silent now, With mournful look and drooping wing; Starving of cold and hunger, how Can they with mirthful music sing?
But winter has its charms for those Who live in happy homes. Our boys Our girls, who know nor grief nor woes, Ah! winter has for them its joys:
Its happy Christmas holidays, When home, so dear, seems dearer yet; With mother's kiss and father's praise, Ah! who such joys can e'er forget?
And then the Christmas visit paid To Granddad in his country home; Where many a merry boy and maid Will cry, 'Granddad, we've come, we've come!'
Dear youthful days, how bright they seem To happy-hearted girl and boy! In after years they're but a dream, But still, a dream of love and joy.
I want to tell you to-night a story which has been told to little children in Germany for many hundreds of years...
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, on the night before Christmas, a little child was wandering all alone through the streets of a great city. There were many people on the street, fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, uncles and aunts, and even gray-haired grandfathers and grandmothers, all of whom were hurrying home with bundles of presents for each other and their little ones. Fine carriages rolled by, express wagons rattled past, even old carts were pressed into service, and all things seemed in a hurry and glad with expectation of the coming Christmas morning.
From some of the windows bright lights were already beginning to stream until it was almost as bright as day. But the little child seemed to have no home and wandered about listlessly from street to street. No one seemed to notice him, except perhaps Jack Frost, who bit his bare toes and made the ends of his fingers tingle. The north wind, too, seemed to notice the child, for it blew against him and pierced his ragged garments through and through, causing him to shiver with cold. Home after home he passed, looking with longing eyes through the windows, in upon the glad, happy children, most of whom were helping to trim the Christmas trees for the coming morrow.
"Surely," said the child to himself, " Where there is so much gladness and happiness, some of it may be for me." So with timid steps he approached a large and handsome house. Through the windows he could see a tall and stately Christmas tree already lighted. Many presents hung upon it. Its green boughs were trimmed with gold and silver ornaments. Slowly he climbed up the broad steps and gently rapped at the door. It was opened by a tall and stately footman, who had on white gloves and shiny shoes and a large white cravat. He looked at the little child for a moment, then sadly shook his head and said, " Go down off the steps. There is no room for such as you here." He looked sorry as he spoke; possibly he remembered his own little ones at home, and was glad that they were not out in this cold and bitter night. Through the open door a bright light shone, and the warm air, filled with the fragrance of the Christmas pine, rushed out through the door and seemed to greet the little wanderer with a kiss. As the child turned back into the cold and darkness, he wondered why the footman had spoken so, for surely, thought he, those little children would love to have another companion join them in their joyous Christmas festival. But the little children inside did not even know that he had knocked at the door.
The street seemed colder and darker to the child than before, and he went sadly forward, saying to himself," Is there no one in all this great city who will share this Christmas with me?" Farther and farther down the street he went, to where the homes were not so large and beautiful. There seemed to be little children inside of nearly all the houses. They were dancing and frolicking about. There wereChristmas trees in nearly every window, with beautiful dolls and trumpets and picture books, and balls, and tops, and other nice toys hung upon them. In one window the child noticed a little lamb made of soft white wool. Around its neck was tied a red ribbon. It had evidently been hung on the tree for one of the children. The little wanderer stopped before this window and looked long and earnestly at the beautiful things inside, but most of all was he drawn towards this white lamb. At last, creeping up to the window pane he gently tapped upon it. A little girl came to the window and looked out into the dark street where the snow had now begun to fall. She saw the child, but she only frowned and shook her head and said, " Go away and come some other time. We are too busy to take care of you now." Back into the dark, cold street he turned again. The wind was whirling past him and seemed to say," Hurry on, hurry on, we have no time to stop. 'Tis Christmas eve and everybody is in a hurry to-night."
Again and again the little child rapped softly at door, or window pane. At each place he was refused admission. One mother feared he might have some ugly disease which her darlings would catch; another father said he had only enough for his own children, and none to spare for beggar brats. Still another told him to go home where he belonged, and not to trouble other folks.
The hours passed; later grew the night, and colder blew the wind, and darker seemed the street. Farther and farther the little one wandered. There was scarcely anyone left upon the street by this time, and the few who remained did not seem to see the child, when suddenly ahead of him there appeared a bright, single ray of light. It shone through the darkness into the child's eyes. He looked up smiling and said, " I will go where the little light beckons, perhaps they will share their Christmas with me."
Hurrying past all the other houses he soon reached the end of the street and went straight up to the window from which the light was streaming. It was a poor, little, low house, but the child cared not for that. The light seemed still to call him in. What do you suppose the light came from? Nothing but a tallow candle which had been placed in an old cup with a broken handle, in the window, as a glad token of Christmas eve. There was neither curtain nor shade to the little square window, and as the little child looked in he saw standing upon a small wooden table a branch of a Christmas tree. The room was plainly furnished, but was very clean. Near the fire-place sat a lovely faced mother with a little two-year old on her knee and an older child beside her. The two children were looking into their mother's face and listening to a story. She must have been telling them a Christmas story, I think. A few bright coals were burning in the fire-place, and all seemed light and warm within.
The little wanderer crept closer and closer to the window pane. So sweet seemed the mother's face, so loving seemed the little children, that at last he took courage and tapped gently, very gently, on the door. The mother stopped talking, the little children looked up. "What was that mother?" asked the little girl at her side. "I think it was some one tapping on the door," replied the mother. '"Run as quickly as you can and open it, dear, for it is a bitter cold night to keep any one waiting in this storm." "Oh, mother, I think it was the bough of the tree tapping against the window pane," said the little girl, "Do please go on with our story." Again the little wanderer tapped upon the door. "My child, my child," exclaimed the mother rising, "That certainly was a rap on the door. "Run quickly and open it. No one must be left out in the cold on our beautiful Christmas eve."
The child ran to the door and threw it wide open. The mother saw the ragged stranger standing without, cold and shivering, with bare head and almost bare feet. She held out both hands and drew him into the warm bright room. "Oh, you poor, dear child, come in as quickly as you can, and get warm! Where did you come from, and where are you going? Have you no home? Have you no mamma? Have you no Christmas to celebrate.
The mother put her arms around the strange child, and drew him close to her breast. "He is very cold, my children," said she. "We must warm him and feed him, and give him some clothes." "And," added the little girl, "we must love him and give some of our Christmas, too." "Yes," said the mother, "but first let us warm him."
So she sat down beside the fire with the child on her lap, and her own two little ones warmed his half-frozen hands in their own, and the mother smoothed his tangled curls, and bending low over his head, kissed the child's face. She gathered the three little ones together in her arms and the candle and the firelight shone over them, and for a few moments the room was very still. Then the mother whispered to the little girl, and the child ran (quickly into the next room and soon returned with a roll of bread and a bowl of milk which had been set aside for her own breakfast the next morning.
The little two-year-old, who had slipped away from his mother's side, was happy that he, too, could help the little stranger by bringing the wooden spoon from the table. By and by the little girl said softly to her mother, " May we not light the Christmas tree, and let this little child see how beautiful it will look?" "Yes," said the mother. With that she seated the child on a low stool beside the fire, and went herself to fetch the few simple ornaments which from year to year she had saved for her children's Christmas trees. They were soon busy preparing the tree and lighting the candles. So busy were they that they did not notice that the room had filled with a strange and beautiful light. They turned and looked at the spot where the little wanderer sat. His ragged clothes had changed to garments white and beautiful. His tangled curls seemed like a halo of golden light about his head, but most beautiful of all was his face, which shone with a light so dazzling that they could scarcely look upon it.
In silent wonder they gazed at the child. Their little room seemed to grow larger, the roof of their low house seemed to expand and rise, until it reached the sky. With a sweet and gentle smile the beautiful child looked upon them for a moment and then slowly rose and floated through the air, above the tree tops, beyond the church spire, higher even than the clouds themselves, until he appeared to them to be a shining star in the sky above, and at last he disappeared from sight. . The wondering children turned in hushed awe to their mother and said in a whisper, " Oh, mother, it was the Christ Child, was it not?" And the mother said in a low tone, " Yes."
And so, they say, each Christmas Eve the little Christ Child wanders through some town or village, and those who receive him and take him into their homes and hearts have given to them this marvelous vision which is denied to others. Translated by Elizabeth Harrison from German
"Silent Night" is a popular Christmas carol, composed in 1818 by Franz Xaver Gruber to lyrics by Joseph Mohr in the small town of Oberndorf bei Salzburg, Austria.''
We live in an age of wonders. Great discoveries and startling events crowd upon us so fast that we have scarcely recovered from the bewildering effects of one before another comes, and we are thus kept in a constant whirl of excitement. The heavens are full of shooting stars, and while watching one we are distracted by another. So frequent is this experience that our nerves almost refuse to respond to the shock of a new sensation. We are no longer surprised at surprises. The marvelous has become the commonplace, and the unexpected is what we now expect.
Yet we are not to suppose that our age is the only one that has had its wonders. Other times had theirs also, only these old-time wonders have become familiar to us and ceased to be wonderful; but in their day they were marvelous, and some of them equaled if they did not surpass any wonders we have witnessed. The Great War was the most cataclysmic eruption that has ever convulsed the world, but it was not more revolutionary and sensational in the twentieth century than the French Revolution was in the eighteenth and the Reformation was in the sixteenth century. The discovery of America in the fifteenth century created immense excitement and was relatively a more colossal and startling occurrence than anything that has happened since.
The telescope and the Copernican theory- were as great achievements in their day as the spectroscope and the nebular hypothesis are in 1919. The most useful inventions and the most marvelous products of the human brain are not the railway and telegraph after all. The art of printing, which infinitely multiplies thought and sows it in the very air and every morning photographs the world anew, is a more useful invention and in its day was a great wonder. Still farther back, hidden in the mists of antiquity, lies the invention of the alphabet that is even more useful and marvelous. It is when we get back to the oldest tools, the hammer and plough and loom, that we come to inventions of the greatest fundamental utility, and we could better afford to give up all our modern magic machines than to part with these.
The oldest literature is ever the ripest, richest and best, and Homer and Shakespeare over, top all our modern writers as the Alps overshadow the hills lying around their feet. What modern preacher can compare in eloquence and power with Paul and Isaiah? Nature is ever full of new wonders, and yet the grass was as green and the mountains as grand and the golden nets and silver fringes of the clouds were as resplendent in the days of Abraham as they are to-day. We are the heirs of the ages, but wonder and wisdom were not born with us, and with us they will not die.
Where must we go to find the greatest wonder? Not to the scientist's discoveries and the inventor's cunning devices: the greatest marvel is not material but spiritual; and to find it we must not look into the present or future, but go back to the first Christmas morning. On that morning the Judean shepherds had a story to tell which all they that heard it wondered at and which is still the wonder and song of the world. The birth of Jesus is absolutely the greatest event of all time. Whatever view is taken of him he has become the Master of the world. Christ has created Christendom, silently lifting its moral level as mountains are heaved up against the sky from beneath. The coming of such a unique and powerful personality into the world is an infinitely greater wonder than the discovery of a new continent or the blazing out of a new star in the sky. Snowden.
Third Day sings "God of Wonders" live from Farewell Tour.
Use this Santa head scrap for personal craft projects only folks. I've restored it from a vintage ephemera collection. Paste old St. Nick's portrait into ornaments or gift cards as you need him...
Smallest versions of antique Santa Claus scraps.
Larger versions of antique St. Nicholas scraps for crafting.
Hemlock displayed over the mantle with a traditional holly wreath, with red bow, in the center. Pine boughs are hung above the windows and picture frame. Holly wreaths are mounted on the window panes and a sprig of mistletoe is hung between these...
Of the many ways in which we can give expression to the Christmas spirit there is none more lasting than the attractive decoration of the house. The pleasure of exchanging gifts is soon over, as is the enjoyment of each of many festivities, but the home decorations remain throughout the holiday season, always reminding us that it is Christmas and of what the season means.
Mistletoe sprigs are nailed above the door frames and wreath. The wreath is made using bay leaves and dried cranberries. Two hardy laurels are on either side of the hutch. Lovely formal red ribbons adorn the plants.
On this post are shown a few simple suggestions which can be inexpensively carried out. Holly wreaths are always identified with Christmas, but in connection with them very effective use can be made of other evergreens, such as hemlock and laurel. Why not try to make the home more Christmas-like this year than ever before?
Above is a long pine garland draped down the banister of the staircase. Small clusters of holly and berries also between the garland.
Festoons of Christmas greenery also decorate more mantles in this home and pots filled with hemlock and small conifers.
What season can it be but Christmas Eve, When drowsy Nature's icy fingers weave Such pure delights in frost-bound earth and sky As warm the heart and captivate the eye? The sunset burns across blue-shadowed snow And gilds the trees, all blackened, with its glow; The azure heaven sparkles as it fades To deeper hues that herald nightly shades. In all the bracing air a gladness floats, As sweet as music from the swelling throats Of summer birds, and Nature's children feel A witchery of concord o'er them steal Deserting burrow, nest and hollow tree, In fur and feathers, Little Folks in glee Dance down the meadow path and forest lane, And thoughts of cruel traps and guns disdain. To many a festal tree their gambols lead, Where stored against the barren winter's need The golden corn and rosy apples peep From drifts of snow in luscious, tempting heap. In jolly circles round and round they go In step to merry shout of Jay and Crow, And whistle of the Red-bird, as they flash Among the trees in many a headlong dash. Perhaps they do not know 'tis Christmas Eve, Nor in its vague enchantment sweet believe, But on this day they feast without a fear, Who live as foes thro' all the changing year, Till stars look down with laughing eyes that seem To send a joyful message on each beam.
The Illustrated Printable Copy Below
Lovely illustrated poem in color of forest animals.
What child doesn't love to visit a small town library? And... librarians are some of the kindest people I have ever known! Don't forget to take your children to the library this weekend and share in one of life's simplest of pleasures... a story read together.
A classic design for a small town library; it would look perfect in your Christmas village!
Detailed pattern and sizes for a miniature library building.
For as many things that do change over time, this fire station is amazingly similar to those that are built today, particularly when these are tucked away in areas near homes. Many fire stations in St. Louis look just like this one! Except for the finishing on the exterior. That, has a tendency to be brick.
This fire station has living quarters on the second story and Giant "stable like doors."
Very detailed plans for a miniature fire station house from 1927.
Long ago, every small American town had it's own movie theater. Now that we all have big screen T.V. monitors these are fast becoming a thing of the past. I still enjoy an occasional night out to see a movie, eat popcorn, and enjoy the company of friends, although it is getting pretty expensive for my thinning wallet... (Bailey Town Prints, 1927)
The outside of the theater should look like this one shown above.
The inside of the theater, minus seating should look like this.
Description of the Coloring Page: ornaments, lights, stars,
electric bubble lights, stars, bell, small boy and girl, brother and
sister, Christmas tree, decorating, doggy bone, dog bed, puppy, a pet for Christmas
We whispered a hint to good Saint Nick, "This year, please bring us a pet." Under the tree we looked, quick, quick, And saw that Santa didn't forget.
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about this coloring page, just type into the comment box located
directly below this post and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I
can.
was written and illustrated by Christina Schoenherr.
For weeks Sis and Billy had been talking about Christmas and buying presents for friends and the rest of the gang, even Patches the poor boy down the street. At last the great day arrived! The night before Sis and Billy hung up their stockings by their fireplaces! Then all excited they ran quickly in to their beds to wait for Santa to com down their chimneys. Bright and early, Sis and Billy looked under their Christmas trees to see what Santa had brought them! Billy heard a funny little noise and what do you think he found? A dear little puppy. Sis heard a meow and there was a darling kitten. Then Billy ran over to show Sis and Katy his pet. Sid showed Billy hers too. But the biggest surprise of all was waiting for them in Curly Cassidy's barn, a lovely colt for each of them! Sis and Billy agreed it was the nicest Christmas they had ever had. The End.
Description of the Coloring Page: ornaments, lights, stars, electric bubble lights, stars, bell, small boy and girl, brother and sister, Christmas tree, decorating
The time has come to trim the tree And oh, how pretty it will be With Christmas ornaments so bright And every bough aglow with light.
Don't forget to drag the png. or jpg into a Word Document and enlarge the image
as much as possible before printing it folks. If you have a question
about this coloring page, just type into the comment box located
directly below this post and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I
can.
"I am the light of the world." This is one of those short, pregnant statements of our Lord characteristic of this Gospel, which impress us at once by their brevity, their beauty, and their largeness of meaning. Statements of a similar kind, of equal terseness and force, occur to every one - "I am the good shepherd"; "I am the resurrection, and the life"; "I am the way, and the truth, and the life."
Sometimes Jesus gathers His work and nature up in one descriptive word, and offers it, as it were out of a wide-open hand, complete to His disciples. In such a word all the details of His relation to the soul and to the world are comprehensively included. As the disciple listens and receives it, he feels all his fragmentary and scattered experiences drawing together and rounding into unity. As, having heard it, he carries it forth with him into his life, he finds all future experiences claiming their places within it, and getting their meaning from it. Such words of Jesus are like spheres of crystal into which the world is gathered, and where the past and future, the small and great, may all be read.
What Divine audacity there is in such sayings! and how little we can suppose them to be the sayings of a mere teacher or prophet! They have no parallel in the words of even the greatest teachers. One and all imply something which the most powerful and enlightened, conscious of their own capacities to communicate truth or to do good, would scruple to arrogate to themselves. They might claim respect for the truth they speak, and summon men to attend to it with a voice of authority. But no merely human teacher would dare to make himself the center of all truth, and the center of the world.
It was indeed a magnificent word, a stupendous word. It is one of those sayings of our Lord which prove that never man spake as this Man. It is utterly unaccountable and inexplicable save on one assumption. It either makes us tremble with a shock of surprise, with a feeling of doubt which we wish to crush down as blasphemy, or it brings us to our knees in worship, as before One who is lifted immeasurably above the ordinary limitations of humanity. There are only two possible conclusions to which we can come concerning such words as these. They are either the wildest words of audacity and self-deluded egotism that human lips ever uttered, or they are the language of one who was Better, far above all human criticism and judgment by His real and unmistakable Divinity. Had such a claim as this been made by the greatest teacher, prophet, or apostle of the ancient world, his words and memory would long since have perished in the scorn and disgust which it would have provoked ; and were such a claim advanced by any person in the present day, there would be a universal feeling that mental derangement was at the base of it. No wonder that the men who listened to Him were either filled with indignation or inspired with reverential awe. No wonder that He seemed to them either a blasphemer or the Son of God. There could be no middle course. It was certain that the person who talked in this way would either be scorned and hated and crucified by the world or lifted by adoring hearts wholly above the world in love and honor and supremacist adoration. And no middle course has ever been possible for long. Men have never continued to reverence Him as a man unless they have learned to worship Him as God. It is difficult to trust Him at all unless we trust Him all in all. These words are either so extravagant or so sublime, that the Man who spoke them was guilty of a self-conceit unparalleled in human history, or He was higher than the highest human thought can reach and not to be addressed save in the worshipful words of Thomas, "My Lord and my God." We have ever to make our choice, and most of us have made it to our heart's rest and joy. We are sure that He knew what He was saying and had Divine right to say it: "I am the light of the world." Hastings
Miniature sea horses made from cotton batting in four colors: pink, lavender, coral and blue.
These sweet little sea horses are not found under the sea...but hanging from our family feather tree. Paint them pinks, lavenders, and blues and sprinkle with glitter too!
Supply List:
acrylic paints in pastel colors
white cupcake liners
translucent glitter
white school glue
hot glue gun and glue
one chenille stem per sea horse
puff paints for eyes
Step-by-Step Instructions:
Cut a chenille stem into approx. half length.
Unravel several cotton balls and set these aside.
Shape the bottom end into a spiral. Shape the opposite end into a hook for the head of the sea horse. Both of these ends will be reworked later but having them bent early will help you to understand the proportions of the sea horse as you work.
The belly of the sea horse will require you to build up more batting than you will need at either end.
Layer white glue and batting fuzz around the belly first.
Now unbend the hooked head and gradually twist batting around the chenille end to bulk up the head area. Bend this end back in place and compare it with the photos of mine. When you are satisfied with your results let the head dry and harden.
Now do the same for the spiral tail. You will need far less cotton batting for this end. Make the application of cotton far less and gradually smooth it down from the underside of the sea creature's belly.
Bend the spiral tail back into place and let it dry completely.
Add pastel color washes to your sea horse.
Cut small rippled sections of the white cupcake liner for the dorsal and pectoral fins and glue them in place with hot glue.
Paint the fins
Paint on the eyes using puff paints to make them more dimensional
Smear on a bit of white school glue and sprinkle on glitter.
The March of The Chocolate Soldiers by Margaret McBride Hoss
The Chocolate soldiers are marching to-day Through the heart of Candyville town. Down Marshmallow Street, With measured beat, Stride the ranks of butternut brown
Tramp-tramp-tramp-tramp- To the roll of sugar-plum drum, Heads erect. Step correct, The chocolate soldiers come!
March-march-march-march- Not a chocolate soldier lags, Left . . right . . . They pass from sight 'Mid a flutter of peppermint flags!
My eldest daughter loves hydrangea. She has several of these growing in our lawn and displays them lovingly about the house fresh or dried year round. Frankly, I'm surprised she had not thought to include these in an ornament sooner...
Supply List:
hollow, clear bauble and clip on cap
dried hydrangea petals
vintage lace
To make the ornament, she gently pushed the dried petals through the opening at the top of the hollow glass ornament until the bauble was full. Then she replaced the cap, added a hook and tied a lace bow about the top! This would make a quick and easy craft for those of you who love to decorate the Christmas tree using plants from your garden.
Both William and Hannah are tucked in tight and dreaming of the toys Santa might bring. Use the pictures included in the sheet below to help you unscramble the toys of their dreams.
Children with visions of toys dancing in their heads...
