Re: HAPPY HOLIDAYS

Patrick & Everyone;

That was a wonderful Christmas Message & I’m so glad that it was
shared, it touched me in a special place because I was a single UnWed
mother back when I was in my early 20’s & it was gifts from people
like that in the story who on many a Thanksgiving & Christmas made
donations to churches with food for the food baskets & gifts for
under the tree because after paying the rent & heat & clothes
there wasn’t much left over for presents for my 2 children so I know
touched those families who were on the Receiving End of that family’s
anonymous gifts felt when their children were given brand new equipment
to use & the other gifts which were given the years after that

I do hope that you’ll reread the message or pass it on to others in
these days of hard times & unemployment there are many who in times
past may have been on the giving end but this year have found
themselves on the receiving end due to no fault of their own & will
consider maybe donating to the local churches & food banks &
homeless shelters so that others may be blessed because there are needs
all during the year not just during the holiday seasons

>From My Family to All of Your Families we wish you a very Merry
Christmas, & a Joyous New Year

Have a BEAUTIFUL HOLIDAY!

Have a Beautiful Day!
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Patrick Lacy wrote:

Hello Everyone,

I wanted to do
something a little different for a Holiday message so I thought I’d
send an inspirational story that touched me deeply.




Best wishes for
a
GREAT
NEW YEAR!



PAT LACY

For the Man Who Hated Christmas

by Nancy W. Gavin

It’s just a small, white envelope
stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No
name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the
branches of our tree for the past ten years or so.

It all began because my husband Mike
hated Christmas–oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the
commercial aspects of it–overspending… the frantic running around at
the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for
Grandma—the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of
anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided
one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I
reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an
unusual way.

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year,
was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and
shortly before Christmas,
there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city
church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that
shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together,
presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold
uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.
As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was
wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect
a wrestler’s ears.

It was a luxury the ragtag team
obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took
every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he
swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street
pride that couldn’t acknowledge defeat.

Mike, seated beside me, shook his
head
sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a
lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out
of them." Mike loved kids – all kids – and he knew them, having coached
little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That’s when the idea for
his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods
store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear
and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On
Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside
telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His
smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in
succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition–one
year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey
game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had
burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The envelope became the highlight of
our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning
and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed
anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal
its contents.

As the children grew, the toys gave
way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure.
The story doesn’t end there.

You see, we lost Mike last year due
to
dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in
grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me
placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by
three more.

Each of our children, unbeknownst to
the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The
tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our
grandchildren standing to take down the envelope.

Mike’s spirit, like the Christmas spirit will
always be with us.

 

Patrick Lacy, Branch Director
Nations Group USA
Ct. Loan Originator lic. # 115786

1224 Mill St.
 Unit B suite 3
 East Berlin, Ct. 06023
 860-301-4499   www.nfsite.com

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