Once Upon a Sunday New Year

by Renee Hawkley

Once upon a Sunday New Year, a stranger was driving along a stretch of McMillan Road that borders a residential area in Boise, Idaho.  She happened to pass a makeshift "Hot Cocoa Stand" attended by a smattering of young children.  A rickety car was holding its ground nearby.

OK.  A hot cocoa stand is an unusual sight to behold along McMillan Road on a frosty, sky-blue Sunday in January.  On her way home, the stranger passed the stand again, noticed the children had a small stream of customers, and was, well—curious.  She was also smitten with a sudden craving for hot cocoa. 

Now, this stranger has a rule about spending money on a Sunday.  She doesn’t.  So she turned her gaze again to the straight and narrow road ahead and kept driving.

Still . . . the car slowed as she decided there would be no slackening of standards if she were to turn the car around and go back just to hear how this “Hot Cocoa Stand” came to be.  That way, she could get the story without having to pay for it.  So she did.

And here’s the story, as told by the hot cocoa stand’s owner, a girl of about age ten, who wanted a specific family game for Christmas that hadn’t been delivered.  She wanted it badly enough to come up with an idea.  She would raid her piggy bank to buy hot cocoa mix and a can of Reddi-Whip, make a “Hot Cocoa Stand” sign out of cardboard, and ask her dad for help to set up shop with her younger siblings on McMillan Road.  Dad agreed to help.  And there they were—Dad helping the younger children to dispense hot cocoa and Reddi-Whip while his oldest daughter acted as cashier.

I don’t know if the family’s “Once upon a time” story has the “Happily ever after” ending it deserves.  All I know is that the stranger bought a tasty cup of hot cocoa that kept her warm all day—“with Reddi-Whip, thank you”—and paid more money for it than the cardboard sign suggested.  Once upon a Sunday New Year.  

Happy New Year!

Sunday ~ January 1, 2012

I Have Sisters

by Renee Hawkley

I have sisters . . .

When my kids are on the fritz,
When my life is in the pits,
And I want to call it quits,

I have sisters . . .

When I have a broken bone,
When I'm new and not well-known,
When I'm feeling all alone,

I have sisters . . .

When I drive into a post
Or I burn the Sunday roast,
When I need a friend the most,

I have sisters . . .

And . . .

I'm her sister . . .

When she's living in a tent,
And she doesn't have a cent,
When her husband came and went,

I'm her sister . . .

When she's made a big mistake,
And her head proceeds to ache,
When her heart's about to break,

I'm her sister . . .

When she's filled with deep despair,
And she needs my fervent prayer,
When there's no one else to care,

I'm her sister.

"My Favorite Decisions"

by Renee Hawkley

Since turning 60 on June 25th, 2006, I've been trying to graciously accept "little old lady" status. I guess it's not so bad. Just because little old ladies have "been there, done that" doesn't mean we're through being and doing. And even though people may not pay attention to what little old ladies say, they finally stop interrupting.
Let the record reflect that little old ladies don't become little old ladies without making some dumb decisions, but . . . we can talk about that later. I'd like to talk about the decisions I made that opened a lifetime of exciting possibilities. They may not be right for every woman, but they were precisely right for me, and I wouldn't trade them for all the botox in Hollywood. For what it's worth, here are a few of my favorites;

• to be a "sunbeam" for Jesus (about 1949)


• to marry Dan Hawkley because I was madly in love with him even though we spent his life savings on an alarm clock the day of our marriage (1966)


• to prove to my dad that I could finish earning a college degree (1969)


• to help Dan follow his dreams of becoming an Air Force officer and an attorney (1967-77)


• to spend a large chunk of my childbearing years wearing double-knit maternity clothes when having a large family was out of fashion (1968-85)


• to be a stay-at-home mom (1969-98 . . .I wish it had been longer)


• to stick it out and never give up when things got tough (1990)


• to stop expecting perfection in myself and others (2001)


• to be happy anyway (2002)

And . . . (drum roll) . . . my newest-best-tried-and-truest decision;

• to let God be the boss (2004 and counting).

A Week or Two of Dull

Recently, while discussing mutual concerns with a friend, he made the comment, "I guess life would be pretty dull without problems." Dull? Dull? I'll take a week or two of dull.

If I had just a week or two of dull, here's the short list of what I could get done:

• Fly to Hawaii to see my son, Kyle.



• Catch my bulging journal up.



• Vacuum the cobwebs off the ceiling in the family room.



• Help my daughter clean her room, including inside the drawers and under the bed.



• Organize a recyclable monthly menu plan.



• Read a book . . . any book.



• Begin a regular exercise program.



• Return all my email messages.



• Paint and wallpaper the kitchen and dining room.



• Sew a dress for my granddaughter.



• Sleep in and take a nap on the same day.



• Finish writing the short story I started five years ago.



• Move the couch and vacuum underneath it.



• Watch Oprah.



• Bake cookies.



• Figure out which diet will work for losing ten pounds.



• Did I say read a book?



• Get this article sent to my regular newspapers in time to make the deadline.