family – Page 38 – Roadkill Crossing

The ins and outs of a sustained marriage

By Bruce Stambaugh

Soon my wife and I will have been married for 41 years. How have we made it this far? Well, this may sound funny, but the answer to that question in part is because we manage to avoid each other.

I think I better explain. My wife and I both believe in being community activists. That is a fancy way of saying we get involved in local activities, many of them on a volunteer basis.

Over those 41 years of marriage, Neva and I have recognized a familiar pattern. She goes out the drive just as I am coming in or vice versa. When we first noticed this routine, we laughed about the happenstance. The phenomenon has continued with amazing regularity.

When Neva comes in the drive as I am leaving, we just roll our eyes in common acceptance and acknowledgment of the many paths our busy lives have taken us. We recognize the importance of accepting and encouraging our individual interests and areas of service as important ingredients of any successful marriage.

Our house by Bruce Stambaugh — Where our driveway moments occur.

With us, this is pretty much how it goes. Neva has a 10 a.m. meeting scheduled in Millersburg with the thrift store where she volunteers. I have the morning free to tinker around the house or write. After lunch, Neva arrives home, and I need to leave for a rendezvous with a local resident regarding a township issue. I’m a township trustee.

We haven’t necessarily planned these driveway moments. It’s just the way it has panned out time and again over our 41-year marriage. I come in the drive, Neva goes out. It’s like clockwork.

If anything, it’s more about trusting each other and commitment to community than intentional evasion. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons our marriage has not only grown in years, it’s thrived.

We respect each other and each other’s interests. We also give each other the freedom and space to exercise those interests. The fact that those activities often coincide with a community event is possibly the glue that has helped hold our loving relationship together.

Neither of us would begin to pretend to be perfect or that ours is a model marriage. That innate trust, however, allows us to do our own thing while actually reinforcing our husband and wife relationship.

I’m not bragging when I say that we feel blessed to have lasted this long as a couple. Marital bliss for our generation has turned out to be a 50/50 proposition. I feel for those who have tried to hold their marriage together, giving their all to no avail. I am ever so thankful that we have hung in there, even during difficult times.

With the varying schedules and comings and goings, having a supporting community around us has certainly enhanced our chances for success. We fully and humbly recognize that we have not been on this long journey alone. We have many people to thank for being there for us through thick and thin.

Friends, neighbors, church members, and especially family have all played important roles in the success and longevity of our marriage. Our son once asked me what the secret to our longevity of marriage was. I didn’t hesitate in answering, “There are no secrets between us.”

That includes where Neva is going again when I pull into the driveway.

Over the river and through the woods to a basketball game

By Bruce Stambaugh

It’s time for March Madness again. As much as my wife and I enjoy watching the college games on television, we had other basketball priorities. That’s the way it is with grandparents.

Our seven-year-old grandson’s basketball season was winding down, and we hadn’t seen him play yet. We used that as an excuse, as if we needed one, to drive the 350 miles south and east to Virginia’s lovely Shenandoah Valley to see him play. Across the Ohio River and through forested West Virginia mountain passes we went to cheer him on.

mountainpassbybrucestambaugh — One of the mountain passess in West Virginia we cross each time we travel from Ohio to Harrisonburg, VA.

Unfortunately, Evan was ill when we arrived. His 103-plus fever kept him home from school for a couple of days. But sports nut that he is, Evan’s fever subsided and he was ready to roll by game time Saturday morning.

We all piled into our daughter’s van and headed a few miles down the road to an elementary school where the basketball games are held. Other parents and grandparents filled the meager bleachers, too, as you might expect.

Huddle up by Bruce Stambaugh — The coach gives instructions to the young players.

I was impressed with how the operation was run. After all, seven is a young age to be playing a contact sport. After the usual warm-ups were completed, the coaches gathered the players for instructions.

The main referee, a lanky teenager, also helped the players. He talked to them before each jump ball and as the game progressed. In fact, once the whistle had blown, he often demonstratively showed the players the correct way to guard or shoot.

Helping referee by Bruce Stambaugh — The young referee took time to instruct the young players, too.

Of course, as soon as play resumed, it was like nothing had been said. The kids were pretty young to grasp the full aspects of the game. They were mostly out to have fun, and win, even though no score was kept.

Another plus was that the baskets had been lowered to make it easier for the boys to shoot. In addition, they used a smaller sized ball, one that was much easier for their small hands to handle.

This game was a lot of fun to watch. A few parents and grandparents, who shall all remain nameless, hollered out instructions to their favorite player. But just like they did the coaches, the kids seemed to ignore the advice and played on, dismissed rules and guidance in favor of trying to make a bucket anyway they could.

Playing on by Bruce Stambaugh — The youngsters emulated NBA players with their style of play.

In fact, the play of the youngsters, combined with the loose officiating, reminded me of an NBA game. Dribbling seemed to be an option, and shooting was far more common than passing the ball.

Back home, Evan practiced his skills with his younger brother, Davis, by playing an electronic game on the TV with the Wii. Davis tried his best to teach me, but I guess I was just too old to jump properly to make a basket. I seemed to be showing my age in both the virtual and real world.

Maren by Bruce Stambaugh — Our granddaughter, Maren.

Their baby sister, Maren, had tolerated Evan’s game just fine. She took along her baby doll for real entertainment. She didn’t have much interest in the Wii game either.

Maren was much too preoccupied with more important things, like playing quietly by herself until her brothers interrupted her privacy. Then another game began, which their lovely mother refereed, no whistle required.

Admittedly it was a long way to go to watch a basketball game, but well worth the time and effort. This grandfather can’t wait for youth baseball to begin.

Maybe leap day was a bad idea

By Bruce Stambaugh

I feel sorry for anyone born on Feb. 29. They only get to celebrate their birthday every four years. If it is a century year like 1900, they have to wait eight years.

I haven’t known very many people in my life who were born on leap day. So it’s not like I was influenced to complain about the dubious day on their behalf.

My good wife’s grandmother, Maggie, was a leap day baby. Neva remembers turning 16 the same year her dear grandmother was 16. Indeed, Maggie had to wait eight years before she could celebrate her first birthday. She was born in 1896.

People born on Feb. 29 get cheated. Sure they have a birthday every year. But it has to be celebrated on Feb. 28 or March 1 or perhaps a day of their choosing. How would you like to consistently celebrate your birthday on a day other than the actual day?

I understand the reason for leap day. An extra day has to be added, generally every four years, to keep pace with the earth’s real speed of rotation. That fact alone reemphasizes my main point. The current calendar system is inaccurate, messed up, verhuddelt, as the Amish would say.

To make matters worse, leap days usually occur during presidential election years, except on most century years. Do we really need an additional day of negative national campaign hyperbole? The year 2000 was an exception because it was divisible by 400, which is why 1900 wasn’t a leap year.

Now that I think about it, having a leap day would be an excellent question for the candidates to debate. If you compare that suggestion to some of the idiotic comments and ideas that they have been espousing on their own, I think it fits right into the political verbal fray.

In fact, given some of the witticisms by the candidates so far, I wouldn’t be surprised if at least one of them thought leap day was a reference to a frog-jumping contest. Who could argue with that?

Officially a leap day occurs in most years that are divisible by four, like 2012. Years that are evenly divided by 100 do not contain leap day, unless they are divisible by 400, like 2000 was. See what I mean? Unless you’re a math wizard, leap day is simply confusing.

This is reason enough to eliminate leap day. If we have to follow all of these crazy exceptions to even have a Feb. 29, why bother? Why not just wait until an entire year needs to be added, and do it all at one time. It would be like an entire year of jubilee, only in reverse. I’ll be dead by then anyhow, so I wouldn’t have to deal with the ensuing consequences.

I am surprised about one thing with leap day. It hasn’t been made a national holiday. What a great way to stimulate the economy? Establish yet another card buying, gift giving holiday, especially right after the sales for Valentine’s Day and Presidents’ Day. That would put three holidays in the shortest month of the year, a marketer’s dream come true. Sorry. Ground Hog Day doesn’t count.

In all seriousness, if you were born on Feb. 29, I wish you a happy birthday. If my birthday fell on Feb. 29, which it doesn’t, I would only be 17 this year. On second thought, let’s just keep the calendar the way it is.

The best thing about vacations

By Bruce Stambaugh

Vacation is one of my favorite words. Perhaps it’s because it’s one of those duplicitous words in the English language that can be used as either a noun or a verb.

I love to go on vacation. We will vacation at the beach. Either way, the end result is still the same. Vacation is vacation.

My wife and I are fortunate to be at a point in our lives where we can get away, if only for a few days, without much hassle. When friends invited us to share a house with them in sunny Florida for a week, we cleared our schedules and confirmed our reservations.

When you live in northern Ohio and it’s wintertime, there’s only one direction to go on vacation, and that is south. Clearly, I’m not a snow skier. At my age, I prefer the warmth to cold, and so do my old bones.

Siesta sunset by Bruce Stambaugh — Sunset at Siesta Key Beach, Sarasota, FL.

It’s more than climate that draws us away from our familiar digs, Holmes Co., Ohio, where up to four million visit annually. Most visitors to our area, however, choose spring, summer and especially fall to roam the bucolic Holmes County hills.

Our curiosity and desire for adventure draw us away from our own congenial vistas as much as anything. We love to explore new places as well as revisit familiar ones.

Our gracious Florida hosts planned plenty of interesting activities for us during our weeklong stay. Fortunately, we enjoy many similar activities as our friends. Like us, they prefer to pace themselves. It was vacation after all. No reason to rush.

I could bore you with a verbal slideshow of our trip. I’ll just say we had a great time, whether we were on the most beautiful beach in the country, which we were, or enjoying an enlightening and informative historical tour, which we did.

Florida House by Bruce Stambaugh — The Florida House, Fernandina Beach, FL, is the oldest operating hotel in Florida.

Instead, I want to tell you about some of the people we encountered along the way. It happens wherever we go. I am fascinated and appreciate the kindness of pure strangers we encounter on our travels. Meeting new people is one of the vacation perks.

Sure, there are a few goofballs almost everywhere. But for the most part, we have found people to be absolutely engaging, matching the gorgeous scenery that surrounds them.

It is hard to single out any one person in Mt. Airy, North Carolina. Everyone we met seemed like a familiar character from Mayberry.

Captain Dave by Bruce Stambaugh — Captain Pajama Dave piloted our Beach Creek tour at Fernandina Beach, FL.

The young and enthusiastic park ranger near Mt. Mitchell on the Blue Ridge Parkway was most helpful. He directed us to Asheville when we found the road unexpectedly closed.

The kind lady at the Venice Rookery who encouraged us to return at dusk to watch the hundreds of nesting egrets, herons and ibises settle in for the night was a pure gem. Even a non-birder would marvel at that experience.

Another amazing individual was our tour boat captain at Fernandina Beach, Florida. Captain Dave was as cordial and passionate about his lovely habitat as the history of the area was interesting. His trademark bright red Elmo pajama pants fit his personality and his passion for nature’s handiwork that he so eloquently pointed out.

Juniper by Bruce Stambaugh — The precocious Juniper.

Finally, there was 2-year-old Juniper, the petite and perky daughter of some friends in Charlotte. We had never met her. Yet by evening’s end, she wanted “Pruce” to read her one more book.

To paraphrase Dr. Seuss, Oh the places we’ve been and the people we’ve met. Together they make vacation a charmed word in our household.

The year in pictures

By Bruce Stambaugh

I had the grandiose idea to post photos I had taken in 2011 in four categories, people, floral and fauna, scenery and weather. As I sorted through the nearly 4,000 imagines I had taken this year, I quickly realized that the task was too daunting, especially given the limited time I had.

Instead, I chose to select a picture for each month of the year. Most were taken near my home near Millersburg in Ohio’s Amish country. Others were shot while on vacation or out of our area. What I assembled turned out to be an eclectic collection that ends up serving both as a through the lens summary of my year and a representation of each of the original categories.

Here, then, are my pictures of the month for 2011.

January

Bird lover that I am, I enjoy feeding and photographing birds. This female American Goldfinch posed nicely for me on a porch post while waiting for an opening at a feeder.

February

Though this shot is of another bird, this chilly female Eastern Bluebird served as model for both the birds that I love and the weather that I watch. With the stinging, horizontally blowing snow on a late February day, she sought food and shelter and found both in the hollowed out log peanut feeder that hung on our back porch.

March

I chose this shot as a symbol of how the year unfolded. Taken outside a café in downtown Charlottesville, Virginia, I couldn’t help notice the irony of the dark gray shadow of the white window lettering on the back of the chair inside the shop. The rest of the picture is busy and blurred with multiple reflections, much like my 2011 life experience.

April

Inscribed on my grandfather Stambaugh’s tombstone is the simple yet profound phrase, “He liked people.” Well, so do I, especially family. Whenever family gathers, like my daughter’s family did at Easter with us, we try to get a family photo. But with young children, getting a perfect picture is a challenge. I thought this imperfect one to perfectly represent that point. The middle child, the long-haired lefty on the left, distains set up shots about as much as me. His older brother enjoyed Davis’ tantrum while the boys’ father tried to settle number two. The granddaughter ignored the silliness and played with a toy, while our photogenic daughter stayed focused on the camera as best she could.

May

Yep, another bird picture. It wasn’t the subject matter as much as the color that made this the May pick. Plus, it’s a rarity to have a male Baltimore Oriole and a male Red-headed Woodpecker on a suet feeder at exactly the same time. Fact is, neither seemed to mind the other since they continued to feed for several minutes.

June

June was a beautiful month, save the occasional severe weather. After a long, chilly, wet spring, June’s warmth and sun brought out beautiful flowers and insects, like these Sweet Williams and this Tiger Swallow-tail butterfly.

July

I felt this picture embodied the year we had in northeast Ohio as much as any photo I shot. Precipitation records were broken throughout the state in 2011. Severe thunderstorms, like this one with its foretelling shelf cloud, pelted northern Ohio all spring and well into the fall. Flooding, damaging tornadoes and microbursts, hail and blinding snowstorms were all a part of the year’s complex weather.

August

Notorious as a hot, humid and often dry month, August fooled us this year. As lovely as June was, August was even nicer. I thought this shot of my Amish neighbor cutting golden oats between lush alfalfa and emerald field corn best represented the month’s congeniality.

September

Like millions of other global citizens, September 11 is a special day for me. Mostly out of the desire for peace, I consider this day personally sacred. I tend to use the day for reflection and prayer. I thought the sunset on the 10th anniversary needed no words of explanation as to why it was September’s choice.

October

Every photographer knows when he or she has taken the shot. On a foggy fall morning, I was fortunate enough to capture this shot two miles east of our home. I still smile when I see it.

November

Our church community is an important ingredient in my life. On the first Saturday in November, Millersburg Mennonite Church held a benefit auction for two couples in our congregation who either have adopted or are in the process of adopting children. Of course, the cost of that process is high. All the items in the auction were donated. Needless to say, the auction was an all-around success.

December

We began this venture with a bird. I figured we might as well end it that way, too, especially when this male Eastern Bluebird came calling at the sunflower heart feeder and basked in the Christmas Day afternoon sun.

People, floral and fauna, scenery and weather all play important parts in my life. I feel fortunate to be able to regularly photograph shots representing each category. If I just happen to stumble upon some scene, bird, flowers, cloud or person that requires that I shoot a shot, I consider myself a happy and blessed person.

Happy New Year everyone!

Bruce

Keeping goals practical for 2012

By Bruce Stambaugh

It’s New Year’s resolution time, a media driven folly I deplore. Consequently, I don’t participate in the declaratory hyperbole of over-hype that usually dissolves faster than an ice cube in a frying pan.

Last year, I offered up a friendly alternative to the impractical practice of setting New Year’s resolutions. I posted a personal, grandiose bucket list that I wanted to accomplish in my life. A good friend thought the text too self-centered and exclusive.

I quickly realized my friend was right on. Knowing that resolutions again would be on the mainstream media’s New Year’s menu, I desired something more productive with which to counter publicly and apply personally.

During my seemingly yearlong recovery last year, I had lots of opportunity for meditation and gratitude. At some point, I began including in my morning devotions a simple three part prompt that seemed all too obvious.

Whether I began or ended with the trilogy, I came away with a refreshing daily approach. The self-imposed, practical advice was both a reminder and a method of living that turned my bucket list on its head.

My little daily pep talk is about as simple and modest as I am. I desire to be nice, to be kind and to behave each day.

Given the fact that I will qualify for Medicare later this year, one would think I had that palpable trio already mastered. My friend, along with other contributions from my beloved wife, told me otherwise. I am human after all, and a man to boot.

Think of it as an offshoot of Kermit the Frog. Instead of “it’s not easy being green,” I submit that it’s not easy being nice, at least not all of the time. Nor is it always attainable to be kind, a close cousin to “nice.”

I don’t mean to be kind of nice either. I mean be nice. Be kind, and the end result will be that one will behave. Seems pretty logical to me.

I’ll give you that there isn’t much difference between being nice and being kind. I guess I see being nice as easy as holding a door open for someone. Being kind, on the other hand, is a compassionate extension of that precept.

Being kind equates with being generous. The way I see it, anyone can be nice. It takes extra effort to be kind. Kindness involves time, perseverance, patience, observation and action. I can be nice and hold a door for the next person through. I can be kind and anticipate that the person pushing their mother in a wheelchair will need to have the door held for them.

Putting nice and kind into play in my life forces me to look beyond my own immediate needs, and to watch for spontaneous opportunities to assist others, even in small ways. Other times, being nice and being kind come through planned events where I can make a difference in a positive manner.

By choosing positive, I am ensuring I am behaving. If I am behaving, I am being nice and hopefully kind, too. One begets the other with productive, positive consequences for all involved.

Be nice. Be kind. Behave. Those are constructive objectives I can live by everyday of the New Year. If I don’t, I’m sure my friend or my wife will remind me. I just hope they’ll be nice about it.

A family tradition comes to an end

By Bruce Stambaugh

Larry and Jan Coldwell, of rural Killbuck, Ohio, have been selling Christmas trees for 24 years. Area families were sad to learn that this year was their last.

“This decision has been harder than when I retired from teaching,” Larry said. Coldwell taught at Killbuck Elementary School until 2006.

“Growing Christmas trees was a hobby that got out of control,” Larry said. “We started selling a few, word spread, and it became an annual business.”

Larry and Jan Coldwell by Bruce Stambaugh — Larry and Jan Coldwell relax in their home near Killbuck, Ohio.

Both Larry and Jan said it would be difficult to end the business because of the relationships that have developed over the years. They have never advertised their trees for sale, yet were as busy as they wanted to be since 1987.

Larry said he began planting Scotch and White pine trees for wildlife and conservation purposes in 1981. When someone asked if those trees were for sale in December 1987, the Christmas tree selling began.

Since then, scores of people returned year after year to pick out their own tree. Of course, Larry accompanied them up the steep hillsides to help cut the tree.

“I kept a written record of who bought what species every year,” Larry said. Over time, he realized he had to expand his offerings as customers’ tastes changed.

“People were looking for more than just pines,” Larry said. With the help of his family, Larry planted several varieties of conifers, including 12 different kinds of fir.

Larry said the first two weeks of December were always the busiest for selling trees. People would even come tag their trees ahead of time in order to pick just the right tree, he explained.

“If they came the third week in December,” Larry said, “color was more important than shape, fragrance, density or needle texture.”

Friendly folks that they are, Larry and Jan both said that they would miss the annual interaction with their customers.

“I got to be a pretty good photographer,” Larry said. “People wanted a family picture with the tree they chose.” He said he recently took a family picture of four generations who had cut Christmas trees. The youngest in the photo was a toddler.

As their three children grew and left home, all the year-round work of maintaining and preparing the trees for sale at Christmas simply became too much for the couple.

Coldwells by Bruce Stambaugh — After 24 years, Larry and Jan Coldwell decided to discontinue selling Christmas trees from their tree farm.

“It’s a very labor intensive enterprise,” Larry said. “Growing trees on steep hillsides eliminated the possibility of mechanical farming.”

During the growing season, Larry fertilized, sprayed and trimmed the trees, plus he mowed between the rows. Jan pitched in with hours of weed eating.

Larry credits his late father, Loren, for his avid interest in conservation.

“Dad loved the out-of-doors,” Larry said.

Over the years, the Coldwells have received letters, cards of thanks along with pictures of customers’ trees. Some trees were even cut when no one was home, but they never had trouble with people stealing trees.

“We would find money in our mailbox, between the doors and some even brought money to school to pay for trees they had cut while we were away,” Larry said.

“It’s not the money that we will miss,” Larry said. “It’s the people.”

Larry will continue to operate his certified 113-acre tree farm and be an active board member of the Killbuck Valley Landowners Association. Jan is a nurse at Walnut Hills Nursing Home in Walnut Creek, Ohio.

Christmas is the evergreen holiday

By Bruce Stambaugh

It wouldn’t be Christmas without a Christmas tree.

I realize an evergreen wasn’t part of the original Nativity setting. Nevertheless, having a decorated tree is a must for our family Christmas.

By tree, I mean a real, live evergreen. Nothing less will do. An artificial tree is beyond the pale of consideration.

We are fortunate to live where we have easy access to purchasing trees right from a tree farm. In fact, we most often select and cut our own.

Fortunately, my good wife has an equal inherent affection for acquiring, decorating and displaying Christmas trees. Each of our families took special efforts to secure just the right tree. Our fathers were instrumental in establishing that tradition.

My father often piled his five children into the car on a holiday expedition to choose the perfect tree. Perhaps Dad thought if we helped select the tree and drag it back to the car, the fussing about the tree’s quality was greatly diminished if a bare spot or crooked trunk were discovered once we got it up.

The tree had to be proportionate to the space it would occupy, which was usually in the living room. It also had to be either fresh cut or a balled tree that could be planted after the holidays had concluded.

My wife and I repeated the holiday tree trek tradition with our own children. No tree was chosen without consensus. Certain anticipation, exuberance and satisfaction filled the collective process.

Since our home’s property is already sufficiently populated with evergreens and deciduous trees, we generally cut our tree. That’s what my wife and I did again this year.

On a sunny Saturday morning earlier this month, we meandered along the scenic drive across rolling hills and through pastoral valleys south into the next county. At the Christmas tree farm, high on an open, breezy ridge, where Native Americans once hunted and traversed through old growth forests, our search didn’t take long. We found the Frazier fir we wanted within minutes.

Neva held the beauty while I made quick order of the trunk with my trusty tree saw. Green person that I am, the tree gets recycled as temporary bird shelter near the feeders once the holidays are concluded.

It’s a joy to inhale the marvelous fragrance of the conifer as we set it up in front of the living room windows. The vibrant needles, deep green on top, blue green beneath, are supple and showy. The pleasing symmetry and the piney smell are additional benefits to having a live tree.

Decorating the tree is also family tradition for both my wife and I, though the process varies from year to year. We tend to trim the evergreen modestly, out of reverence for its natural beauty. No garland or tinsel can be found on our tree.

The strings of mini-white lights, symbolizing the stars in that Bethlehem night sky, are first to grace the tree. Colorful ornaments of various sizes and shapes are aesthetically hung, dangling on the tender branches. An unassuming cloth angel, older than our marriage and gifted to my wife by a student, traditionally tops the tree.

It is only fitting that we have a live Christmas tree. Like the timeless Yuletide story itself, the evergreen adds a vernal blessing to an already blessed season.

Candlelight church walk success continues

By Bruce Stambaugh

Try as it might, the chilly, snowy night couldn’t dampen either the inviting luminaries or the spirits of those who participated in the second annual Candlelight Church Walk held in Millersburg, Ohio on Dec. 9.

By all accounts, the evening of touring five Millersburg churches went well, according to Kate Findley, who coordinated the event. She said with entertainment and refreshments provided, and genuine good cheer among the participants it was another successful evening.

“Despite the weather, we had a very nice evening,” Findley said. “Attendance was up from last year, and we were really pleased with the number of people from out of town who came.”

Sharing details by Bruce Stambaugh — Sharon Burgett shared details about Millersburg Christian Church with Jsaon and Melissa Raber of Millersburg.

Bill and Nancy McMann of Indianapolis, Ind. were typical of those who came from a distance. They said they came specifically for the church tour and to shop.

“We stayed at the Hotel Millersburg in October,” Nancy McMann said, “and saw a pamphlet about the church walk.”

Bill McMann said he and his wife visit Holmes County once or twice a year.

“We enjoy the people and the history here,” he explained.

Local residents, like Jason and Melissa Raber of Millersburg, concurred.

“We love Millersburg,” Melissa Raber said. “We wanted to visit some of the churches that we haven’t been in.”

Viewing the tree by Bruce Stambaugh — Julie Brewer and Pam Bores, both of Glenmont, Ohio enjoyed the tree at Faith Lutheran Church.

That seemed to the sentiment of many who attended for the first time. “We missed it last year” was heard time and again. Judging by their enthusiasm and smiles, those who attended weren’t disappointed.

Luminaries that lined the sidewalks at each of the five churches, each decorated for Christmas according to their particular church tradition, greeted tour-goers. Inside, visitors could view the church sanctuary, obtain information about the history of each church, and enjoy refreshments. Musicians and singers performed for appreciative visitors throughout the two-hour event.

Greeting by Bruce Stambaugh — Dave Findley greeted Pam Leach and Becky Chenevey, both of Wooster, Ohio at First Presbyterian Chruch.

Visitors were free to tour the quintet of churches in any order they wanted and at their own leisure. Millersburg churches open for the walk included Faith Lutheran, First Presbyterian, Millersburg Christian, Millersburg Mennonite and St. Peter Catholic Parish.

The tour concluded at Faith Lutheran with a concert of Christmas selections by the Walsh University Chamber Choir from North Canton. The 40-member choir attracted a standing room only crowd at the hour-long performance.

Director Dr. Britt Cooper said the troop performs one concert outside the Stark County area each year, and that they like to sing in the home community of one of the choir members. In this case, the member was Jenna Baker, who attends First Presbyterian, where her father, Jed Baker, is choir director.

Pianist by Bruce Stambaugh — Pianist Brooke Hershberger entertained particpants of the candlelight walk at Millersburg Mennonite Church.

Cooper taped Jenna Baker to sing a soprano solo in the performance of True Light, one of several sacred songs sung. The packed congregation rose spontaneously during the singing of Handel’s Hallelujah chorus from Messiah.

Cooper had the audience participate in the singing of several verses of traditional Christmas carols. Cooper said the chorus sang in an unfamiliar formation. Due to the limited space, the group sang in the round, standing along the walls and in front of the pulpit area of the church.

At the concert’s conclusion, the choir received a standing ovation. The crowd filed out with spirits warmed by the inspirational music, the tour and the inviting hospitality that again highlighted the Millersburg Candlelight Church Walk.

Findley said she was overwhelmed with the choir’s performance.

“After this performance, we’re not sure what we’ll do for an encore next year,” she said.

Gift giving doesn’t have to be expensive

By Bruce Stambaugh

In the blink of an eye, Thanksgiving has come and gone. So too have Black Friday and Cyber Monday. Christmas and New Year’s Day soon will be upon us.

It’s not like the holidays are magically appearing. To be sure, we already have been overexposed to a much too commercialized Christmas through every form of media. The Christmas creep, as some call it, began in early fall.

Indeed, Christmastime is the gift-giving season. But it appears that buying and spending on everything from Chia pets to Cadillacs is the way to celebrate, if we simply gauge the season by the advertisers.

Christmas is so much more than that. It is the time of thinking of others, and remembering them by giving gifts. That is the universally portrayed holiday procedure. The gift, however, doesn’t have to be opulent or pricy, just appropriate for the person.

I enjoyed an article our daughter shared that poked fun at the extremism of holiday shopping. Entitled “The Best 5 Toys Ever,” the humorous story listed the season’s best toys for children. Instead of the latest electronic game or fancy dollhouse, the author suggested sticks, boxes, string, cardboard tubes and dirt as the top presents for children. Each point was illustrated with a picture of a child having fun with these simple items. To drive home the silliness, a positive and negative remark about each “toy” followed the analysis, just like a review of a real toy.

The sarcastic thrust was that our society often over thinks and certainly over indulges when it comes to giving presents for Christmas. We are lead to believe they come in the form of pretty packages, make noise and create virtual fun.

Sometimes the most practical item is the most appropriate gift, and hardly costs a thing, other than an investment of time. Take balloons for example.

Our two-year old granddaughter loves balloons. Nana reported that on her last visit to Virginia, Maren’s favorite playtime was spent batting a balloon back and forth. Is there volleyball in her future?

I’m not suggesting you buy nothing for your loved ones this Christmastime. Rather, I’m simply saying that you may not have to break the bank to please them.

The finest gift at Christmas doesn’t have to be the most expensive. It might just be the gift of time. In our hustle, bustle work-a-day world, it’s easy to follow the crowd to the big box store specials. For whatever reason, our society seems to find it unfashionable to spend a little time with one another, just reminiscing, remembering, playing games, and enjoying one another’s company.

Perhaps my reticence toward expensive gift giving is personally tainted by my life’s station. As grandparents, my wife and I are looking to divest ourselves of some of the earthly possessions we once thought precious. We don’t need to add to our already cluttered household hoard.

This Christmas, we will be wrapping our unpretentious presents using boxes and tubes and string. Those necessary items won’t be the gifts themselves. We will try to ignore the barrage of electronic and print suggestions on how to spend our money, and simply embrace our company while we can.

Christmas is just around the corner. I hope you get the opportunity to celebrate its true meaning with those you love. I know the time I spend with my family and friends will be the greatest gift I receive, sticks and string included.