(This story is from a T4D from a few years back… wow almost 4! Because now I have 5 kids with the youngest being 2! - Still I hope you enjoy it….~ Kirk)  It may be the last for this month as I am taking some holiday time with the family. 

My kids ages are 10, 8, 6 and 2… and of course the two oldest are getting wise to the realities about Santa Claus. While this is a fairly natural part of growing up, it seems, at least to me, to be a fairly disappointing one. Not so much that kids will be disillusioned and disappointed beyond repair… they won’t. It’s just that believing in the Magic of Christmas is so absolutely fun….and not just for them, but for me and other adults too!

The other night our family watched the movie ELF for the first time. I found it only mildly amusing, and was much more engaged in watching my kids watch it, than I was watching it myself. …until Santa crashed his sleigh in Central Park. He couldn’t keep it aloft because not enough people believed anymore and it was their willingness to believe in him and in Christmas magic that helped him fly.

Well in the movie a crowd and news reporting team has gathered at the Park because of a “strange crash” and rumors about what people had seen. During the next few moments the heroic efforts of a little boy help to spark and re-ignite the desire to believe in the hearts of the people gathered there..and those watching the broadcast throughout the city. As people begin believing again…Santa is able to get flying again and zooms over the top of crowd outside the park. This of course thrills and amazes believers, converts the half believers and skeptics.

It was during that moment of this B grade movie… that I found my own eyes a bit wet, my smile a bit wider, and my heart and soul was wishing that this would really happen. I felt for just one magical moment the thrill, excitement and awe I had as a small boy… I remember thinking “I don’t want this to go away” and also having the thought, “I wish everyone could feel this way.” I felt the same way during about 2 minutes of Tim Allen’s first Santa Claus movie and during several moments of the “remake of Miracle on 34th Street.

After the movie I gathered my 2 oldest to my lap and described to them, as best I could, what I felt during that moment of Santa’s buzzing over the heads of the people…and of my feelings personal feelings of desiring to believe as well as my wishes that all might experience that bit of magic, wonder and joy that come from such beliefs.

I hope that each of you T4D subscribers have a most wonderful, magical and spiritual Holiday Season and that your hearts are filled with Joy, your faces with smiles and your eyes with tears of gratitude and love for all of the goodness in your lives.

I think due to the Holiday Season that I will temper the T4D messages just a bit as to avoid needlessly overfilling your inbox stockings, but want you to plan on a strong start at the first of the year.

Merry Christmas
Kirk

BELIEVE IN SANTA CLAUS
I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: “There is no Santa Claus,” she jeered. Even dummies know that!” My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her “world-famous” cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true. Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me.

“No Santa Claus?” she snorted….”Ridiculous! Don’t believe it.
That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let’s go.” “Go where Grandma?” I hadn’t even finished with my second cinnamon bun yet.

“Where” turned out to be Kerby’s General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.

That was a bundle in those days. “Take this money,” she said, “and buy something for someone who needs it. I’ll wait for you in the car.” Then she turned and walked out of Kerby’s. I was only eight years old. I’d often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself.

The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock’s grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn’t have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn’t have a cough; he didn’t have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that. “Is this a Christmas present for someone?” the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. “Yes, ma’am,” I replied shyly. “It’s for Bobby.” The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat.

I didn’t get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, “To Bobby, From Santa Claus” on it. Grandma drove to Bobby Decker’s house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa’s helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobby’s house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. “All right, Santa Claus,” she whispered, “get going.”

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.

Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open.

Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven’t dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker’s bushes.

That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team. I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.

Dear friend June Stone e-mailed these to me last week all the way from Israel.  Thank you June… I like them very much and especially the last one. 

Moving fast is not necessarily the same thing as going somewhere.
*****
Courage is fear that has said its prayers.
*****
Faith is our greatest gift. Sharing it with others is our greatest responsibility.
*****
The first step in overcoming mistakes is to admit to them.
*****
The best way to multiply happiness is to divide it.
*****
Try the program for 90 days. If not satisfied we will be glad to refund your misery.

“I do the very best I know how - the very best I can; and mean to keep doing so until the end. If the end brings me out all right, what is said against me won’t amount to anything.”  Abraham Lincoln 1809-1865

We have recently placed a very special new book on MoreBetterBooks.com titled “The Amazing Alexander” authored by Magician Justin Meitz.  As the title suggests it is an “Amazing” book with a wonderful message for any young person and more especially for any young person who is interested in Magic.  The messages in this book speak to the principles of personal boundaries, hard work/practice, and peer pressure.  The illustrations are wonderful, the message meaningful, the story…well it’s magical.  Did I mention it comes with a magic lesson inside? Also visit the books WAY and AMAZINGLY COOL website… http://www.theamazingalexander.com/

A great book for young and old…. THE AMAZING ALEXANDER

Corporate recognition programs (and leaders) would do well to consider this more. ~ Kirk

The manner in which it is given is worth more than the gift.

– Pierre Corneille (1606-1684) French Playwright

Life is Change
Growth is Optional
Choose Wisely!

Well isn’t that the truth…..

Hey, I need a bit of help.   Many of you know that I run a small website called MoreBetterBooks.com where I sell my few books and a couple other select books whose message I believe in.  Amazon.com also sells 2 of my titles….and recently sold over 150  educational copies of “The Dog Poop Initiative”.   The “educational” copies were printed with spelling errors and needed to be shipped with a special bookmark with corrective stickers that allowed young readers to make spelling corrections (or to scoop the poo) as they read through the books.   BAD NEWS! 

The book marks were never shipped with the books…so at least 150 people have books with typos and quite possibly just think I don’t know how to spell or use speel check.  :)    If you know anyone who has one of these copies please invite them to contact me directly so I can send them the corrective bookmark or a fresh copy of the book.  kirk@kirkweisler.com

As you can imagine Amazon isn’t willing to allow me to re-ship or even contact “their” customers so I really appreciate your help…. thank you

Kirk

When I was a teenager I followed my father in reading every western novel that the author of today’s quote wrote.  Just thinking of all nights I turned pages read by flashlight makes me smile. ~  Kirk

Pa, he always said a man had to look spry for himself, because nobody else would do it for him; your opportunities didn’t come knocking around, you had to hunt them up and hog-tie them.  ~– Louis L’Amour, author

The most important thing I have learned over the years is the difference between taking one’s work seriously and taking one’s self seriously. The first is imperative, and the second disastrous.   ~ Margaret Fonte

Teresa Heed sent me a link last week to an article she came across in The Arizona Republic. 

Here is the Link http://www.azcentral.com/members/Blog/LaurieRoberts/40006  And here is the article. 

The economy is in mid swan dive and jobs are circling the drain and life savings right along with them. Every day, we are bludgeoned by bad news.

Foreclosures are up and bankruptcies, too, and everywhere you turn, you can feel it - the fear, the uncertainty - and oh, by the way, tomorrow we’re supposed to be thankful.

Given that, I thought it might be a good time to consult with one of the world’s leading experts on loss.

Stuart Bridges lies in a bed in a big green room on a street called Granite Reef. Day after day, he lies in that bed. Hour after hour. Minute after minute. He knows that he will never leave it yet he refuses to feel sorry for himself, refuses to give in to despair or bitterness.

“Life isn’t all bad,” he tells me, “if you’re still writing thank you cards.”

I met Stuart nearly three years ago and whenever I feel like my balance sheet - blessings to bad stuff - is out of whack, I go see him.

Stuart has amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, Lou Gehrig’s disease. Inch by excruciating inch, it has stolen away pieces of his life until he can no longer walk, no longer move, no longer breathe without help. But still he has a voice, which is a miracle, I think, and a blessing.

“When you’re the most scared, that’s the time to write a thank you card,” Stuart told me the other day, his weakening voice amplified now by a speaker. “It makes you think about the other person as opposed to dwelling on your own problems. You can become saturated with your own problems. When things are at their worst, I think this is the true measure of the human spirit, to reach down inside yourself and come up with a thank you card.”

A decade ago, Stuart was a tax auditor with the state, an amateur athlete who played tennis a couple of times a week. At time of his diagnosis in 2001, he was certain he wouldn’t be able to handle what was to come.

“I thought all the joy in my life would be gone,” he said. “However, I was wrong.”

Stuart was 42 when his death sentence was delivered. Last week, he celebrated his 50th birthday and every day, he still finds something that makes him happy, whether it’s a visit from an old friend or a memory from a better time or a letter from a stranger.

It’s the letters that are the most astonishing thing. Last Thanksgiving, I wrote about Stuart and asked readers to drop him a line. (P.O. Box 3772, Scottsdale, AZ 85271) I was hoping people would dash off a quick card, something to carry him through a day. Instead, they thanked him.

The ailing veteran who read his story and found the strength to get out of bed. The single mother who realized that her problems weren’t so awful after all. The Sun City woman who had retired not just from her job but from life. Having learned about Stuart, she began volunteering at a nearby
hospital and found not only something to occupy her time but her heart.

All year long, people have asked me about Stuart. Ruth Harrison Cohen called me just the other week to see how he was doing.

“He has made my life a thanksgiving,” she said. “Any time things get tough, I think of him.”

Stuart would call that the ultimate triumph of the human spirit. Things you once thought were important may slip away. Jobs and stock portfolios may disappear. Mere muscle and sinew may fail you.

But if you stop and look around, he would tell you, the essential things - the real blessings - remain.

“When I feel bad,” Stuart told me, “I write a thank you note. It makes me think about not what I’ve lost but what I still have.”   (Column published Nov. 26, 2008, The Arizona Republic)

 

I loved this quote and commentary sent to us from friend Daniel Burns in Waga Waga, Australia.

“If I had asked my customers what they wanted, they would have said a faster horse.” - Henry Ford

It reminded me that although we must listen to customers and take leads from them, they don’t control the ultimate destiny of what solution or direction we take and provide to them. They rely on us to use their thoughts and either come up with a direct solution they might have expected - a faster horse - or to knock their socks off with a completely different way of doing something that not only solves their initial problem but does so in a far better way than they had considered possible… the type of solution that only ‘dreamers’ would think of

Kind regards,

Daniel Burns

When you can’t stand I.T. any longer … come talk to the professionals

T: (02) 6971 0300  M: 0410 667 887

F: (02) 6971 0322  E: daniel@aligntechnology.com.au

101 Fitzmaurice St, PO Box 7309, Wagga Wagga NSW 2650