To receive a collection of Abby's most memorable -- and most frequently requested -- poems and essays, send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby's "Keepers," P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
KINDNESS OF STRANGERS CREATES A CHRISTMAS TO REMEMBER STILL
DEAR ABBY: This is in response to the letter you printed from Calvin S. Holm, Thiensville, Wis., referring to people who succeed in spite of the fact their parents could not afford to help them with finances for schooling or much of anything else. I, too, was a Great Depression child. I have a true story that I hope you will print in order to pass along the message that help is out there if you pray and hope:
MY FAVORITE CHRISTMAS
It was December 1932. In those days, $1 was a lot of money, and $5 was a fortune. We lived on a farm in the Colorado Rockies, 5 1/2 miles north of a small village called Divide.
The town consisted of a combination post office, general store, filling station, and an upstairs residence for the owner's family. There was one other filling station, perhaps five or six houses, a schoolhouse, and a community hall where neighborhood meetings, country dances, etc. were held.
The schoolhouse was a two-room building with two teachers. One room was for grades one through five; the other was for grades six through 10. There was a barn where we could tie up our horses, with a feed box in each stall for a lunchtime oats snack for the horse. There was also a watering trough nearby.
I rode horseback to school every day, with my kid brother on the back of the saddle. It was cold at times.
Christmas was coming and things looked very bleak. I knew there was a benevolent organization in Colorado Springs called the "Mrs. Santa Claus Club" that gave warm clothes to poor people. So I stole a penny postcard from my mother's stationery (yes, a prepaid postcard cost 1 cent at the time). I addressed it to the Mrs. Santa Claus Club and told them about our cold horseback rides to school. I asked if they had any warm clothes, shirts, pants or jackets for my 6-year-old brother or me. I told them I was 9, and said if they happened to have some toys for my 1-year-old baby brother, they would be very much appreciated.
The day before Christmas, we got a notice from the post office that there was a large box addressed to me. Dad picked it up. It was from the Mrs. Santa Claus Club. When we opened it, I could not believe what was inside: warm jackets, pants, shirts, underwear -- all the right size for me and/or my kid brother. There were also small blankets for my baby brother, and to top it off, toys for each of us.
My parents were elated, and my mother forgave me for stealing the postcard. She said, "I think God knew what he was doing."
In addition, the two teachers at school had procured, at their own expense, a present for each kid in the school: a pair of lace-up boots for each boy, and a pair of fur-lined overshoes for each girl.
So, Abby, that's the story of the best Christmas I can remember -- thanks to a very benevolent group of people and two generous schoolteachers. -- RETIRED ENGINEER, KIRKLAND, WASH.
DEAR RETIRED ENGINEER: I couldn't get your letter in before Christmas, but thought my readers would enjoy it even a few days later. Thank you for sharing your touching story, and for the reminder that most of us can make the holidays a little brighter if we choose to. Since sometimes their parents are unable to do so, many children depend on it.
Family Bonds Do Not Have to Break After Bitter Divorce
DEAR ABBY: The letter from "Minneapolis Reader," whose divorced brother did not want her to have contact with his ex-wife and therefore his children, touched me. I have been in that very same situation.
My husband's brother, "Albert," insisted that we not allow our children to spend time with his children when they were with their mother. Since they lived with their mother, there was little chance for contact. Like a fool, with much hesitation, I complied with my husband's demand that we yield to Albert's request.
I kept my daughters from their cousins' house on their first invitation to sleep over. That was the last time they were invited, and I have regretted it ever since. How cruel to punish my girls for a selfish, self-centered brother-in-law. The girls and their cousins loved each other. They had a right, as relatives, to continue the bond that was established when the adults were married.
Tell "Minneapolis Reader" to do the right thing even if no one agrees. Her brother should grow up, live with the choices he has made in his life, and not make his children suffer because of them. -- GROWN-UP IN LOUISIANA
DEAR GROWN-UP: I have said this many times, but it bears repeating: Children need family ties and stability in their lives. This is particularly true when divorce separates their parents. Read on for an example that demonstrates my point:
DEAR ABBY: More than 25 years ago, my parents divorced. It was the greatest tragedy my family has ever experienced. Because they have never been able to put their bitterness aside, we relive the pain on every holiday, birthday and special occasion. One of them has been absent from all of our graduations, weddings, children's births, etc., because the ex-spouse may be present. I cannot begin to describe the disappointment of my college graduation and my wedding due to the absence of one of my parents.
Their anger and bitterness has affected all of us children in many ways. We struggle with depression, poor relationship choices and low self-esteem -- all remnants of a childhood made difficult by divorce.
Divorcing couples and their families must understand that while the divorce is an end to the marriage, it can be a life sentence for the children. Children should never be expected to play favorites or choose sides, nor should the other family members of the divorcing couple.
To the brother of "Minneapolis Reader": Do your children and your family a favor -- KEEP THE PEACE. No matter how acrimonious the split, clinging to the bitterness and robbing your children of part of their family is not the answer.
I'm signing my name, but because I speak for many "divorced children," please sign me ... DIVORCE SURVIVOR
For Abby's favorite family recipes, send a long, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Cookbooklet No. 1, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
DEAR ABBY: I just hung up after calling our former son-in-law to wish him happiness and good luck on his wedding day tomorrow. Oh, how it hurts! We love him, and have loved him, since he came into our family almost 30 years ago. Our daughter has never wanted us to hate him. She doesn't. They had a friendly divorce (sometimes the hardest kind to understand), so we were not betraying her by calling him.
Abby, I just wanted to write to you to put in a good word for loving in-laws. I know that children are the victims of divorce, and that they must learn to accept the decisions of their parents. But on the other hand, we, as parents, must accept the decisions of our children, and silently mourn the loss of someone we love and years of family memories. We, too, are victims. Thank you for listening. -- HEALING TOO SLOWLY IN ILLINOIS
DEAR HEALING: You appear to be a caring and sensitive woman. Perhaps it will speed your healing to keep uppermost in mind that neither your daughter nor your former son-in-law seems to regret the decision to go their separate ways.
I am reminded of the famous line from Reinhold Niebuhr's "The Serenity Prayer": "God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things which should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other."
DEAR ABBY: I give private music lessons in my home. Most of my students are children who come with their parents and other siblings. Increasingly, I am finding these people's manners to be appalling. The children are allowed to explore every part of my home while their parents sit and do nothing. I end up having to interrupt the lessons while I find "Junior," usually in some private part of my home. I've even had parents disappear into my kitchen, and I can hear them in my cupboards and refrigerator!
Even though I don't have the most expensive furniture, I do not want shoes on my couch or open drinks on my table. Not even my yard, flowers, wind chimes or birdbath is safe from these invaders. Having a private lesson -- music, art or whatever -- should be considered a privilege and an honor. It is certainly preferable to a noisy music store or art studio. Maybe if a few people read this, they will wake up and realize that their actions do matter. -- MUSIC TEACHER, WASHINGTON STATE
DEAR MUSIC TEACHER: When you are conducting lessons, your home is your office. It is up to you to set boundaries. The parts of your home you wish to keep private should be closed off. Post signs reminding visitors to refrain from touching, not entering, etc. Provide a comfortable seating area with reading material and/or toys for the siblings -- and stick to your guns.
DEAR ABBY: My mother and father divorced about 10 years ago, after almost 30 years of marriage. The divorce was nasty and painful for everyone involved. There are still unresolved issues and bad feelings.
My mother and my father's mother were very close until the divorce. After that, my mother no longer felt she belonged in the family. They have sent each other occasional birthday cards and have seen each other about three times over the last 10 years.
My paternal grandmother is now in her late 80s, and although she is still in fairly good health, one never knows when her time will come. My question: Should my mother attend the funeral even though my father will be there with his girlfriend? -- STUCK IN THE MIDDLE IN NORTH CAROLINA
DEAR STUCK: Bearing in mind that your grandmother may have many good years ahead of her, the decision is entirely your mother's. If she feels like attending the funeral and paying her respects (when the time comes), there's no reason why she shouldn't.
CONFIDENTIAL TO MY READERS: Have a joyous Kwanzaa.
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