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Sasee is published monthly and distributed free along the Grand Strand. For subscription info, visit sasee.com. Letters to the editor are welcome, but could be edited for length. Submissions of articles and art are welcome. Visit our website for details on submission. Sasee is a Strand Media Group, Inc. publication.

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whos whoPublisher

Delores BlountSales & Marketing Director

Susan Bryant

EditorLeslie Moore

Account ExecutivesAmanda Kennedy-Colie

Erica SchneiderGay Stackhouse

Celia Wester

Art DirectorTaylor Nelson

Photography DirectorPatrick Sullivan

Graphic ArtistsStephanie Holman

Scott Konradt

AccountingRonald Pacetti

Administrative AssistantBarbara J. Leonard

Executive PublishersJim Creel

Bill HennecyTom Rogers

December 2013Volume 12, Issue 12featured articles

8122228323842505660

I n T h I S I S S U ERead It! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .30Living The Good Life . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .46, 48Scoop on the Strand . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .68

Sharing the Good Lifeby Leslie Moore

A New New Yearsby Amy Quincy

A Real Baby in the Mangerby Melissa Face

Adult Childrenby Erika Hoffman

An Unexpected Giftby Marsha Tennant

SouthernSnapsby Leslie Moore

Let Them Eat (Christmas) Cakeby Rose Ann Sinay

Never Too Lateby Jennifer Lynn Cary

My Christmas Confessionsby Janey Womeldorf

Tree of Lifeby Diane DeVaughn Stokes

Spartina Volatile Vera Bradley Sorrelli Areve Lauren G. Adams

Through the month of December, get a $10 gift card with the purchase of $100. Or a $25 gift card with the purchase of $200. Gift cards cannot be used until after January 1.

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Jennifer Lynn Cary has written for various anthologies including God Answers Moms Prayers, Life Savors for Women, The One Year Life Verse Devotional and Christmas Miracles. She resides in Arizona.

Melissa Face lives in Virginia with her husband and son. Her stories and essays have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul and Cup of Comfort. E-mail Melissa at [email protected].

Erika Hoffman has four grown children, whom she loves so much that she lets them be as independent as they want, and so enjoys it when they want to spend time with her.

Nicole McManus has always loved to read, to the point that she is sure she was born with a book in her hands. This reader and writer loves the thrilling adventures that books

give readers. Therefore, she writes book reviews, in hopes of help-ing others discover the magic that can be found through reading.

Contact her at http://ariesgrlreview.com.

Amy Quincy has been working full-time as a freelance writer since her stroke in 2006. Amy has been published in Skirt!, Talking Writing, Fiction Fix, and Kaleidoscope. She is currently seeking publication for her memoir, Misadventures of a Happy Heart. Read more at www.amyfquincy.com.

Rose Ann Sinay lives in North Carolina with her husband and dog where she spends her time writing. Her children graciously continue to provide her with moments worth preserving.

Diane DeVaughn Stokes is the President of Stages Video Productions, Host and Producer for the TV show Inside Out as seen on HTC, and Diane on Six heard on EASY radio. She performs in local theater and loves to travel with her husband, Chuck. You can reach her at [email protected].

Marsha Tennant writes for several national publica-tions and enjoys working with First Book of Horry County. She is the author ofthe childrens book, Margaret, Pirate Queen. She enjoys facilitating (altered)

journaling classes along the Grand Strand. Marsha can be reached at [email protected].

Janey Womeldorf is a freelance writer who drinks too much coffee, loves elastic and can no longer wear high heels. She scribbles away in Orlando, Florida.

letter from the editorI stopped watching the news on a regular basis years ago, and it has made my life immeasurably better. I no longer start my morning with sound bites of tragedy and pain; instead, I ease into the day quietly with a solo run on the beach and mediation. Still, its impossible to miss the big things like natural disasters and government shutdowns. Photos on my Facebook feed draw me in and sometimes I do click through and get the rest of a story highlighting a family that lost everything or the miraculous recovery of a beloved pet from a pile of rubble. Stories like these help me affirm what we all already know the most important things that make up a good life are not things at all. The peo-ple and pets that we love and that love us back are, in the end all that really matter. The definition of a good life never means more things; it always means more friendship, more peace, more kindness and, most importantly, more love. I wish you all an abundance of these during this holiday season.

My Southern Snaps interview this month is with Gloria Gaynor yes, the Gloria Gaynor. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed putting it together. Ive always been a fan, but now I really understand why so many peo-ple love her. Youll also find a couple of new writers, some great ways to help your children give back and much more in this Good Life issue. Please let us know what you think!

Happy Holidays,

contributing writers


cover artistQueen for a Day, by Janet Searfoss

Janet Searfoss is a painter of Batik, the antique-appearing paintings created with hot wax and dyes that often resemble glass in fabric form. Janet combines the ancient craft of batik with the art of painting. Her technique is often a radical departure from the traditional Batik, creating her distinctive style. Her Batiks are labor intensive, often taking more than 100 hours to complete.

Janet studied at Michigan State University and earned her Bachelors Degree from Wayne State University in Detroit, Michigan. After teaching art in the Detroit area for eight years, she began showing and selling her art throughout the country at shows and galleries and now lives in Greenville, South Carolina. The artist was recently awarded second place at the prestigious Atalaya Arts and Crafts Festival in Huntington Beach State Park in Murrells Inlet, one of many awards she has received for her work.

The Batik Queen for a Day is to remind women that we are all Queens in our own special way. The Swan has a crown made visible below the Queens hair. She is making the Swan her regal companion. The wicker chair is her throne. The chair, the Queen and the Swan all seem to be connected and the Queen has on her holiday attire to greet her admirers.

Janets art can be seen locally at One of a Kind Gallery at 74 North Market Street in Charleston, or visit her online at www.searfossbatiks.com.

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I must have been insane to do it. Maybe my ability to reason had not been fully restored since the stroke. I still operated under my old personality. And the old me loved going out to ring in the New Year.

My mom decided she didnt want to eat and just pushed me in my wheelchair to Vivian in the parking lot of Twisted Sisters Restaurant and Bar.

Viv looked cute in tight metallic pants with a black silk scoop-neck and the strappy heels with the high cork wedge Id passed on to her. I loved those shoes. Even as painful as theyd been after a night out, I loved them.

We waited in a short line. The girls wore tops covered by leather jack-ets that would later be shed to reveal sparkly colors and glitter and too much skin. I was conscious of my jeans and frumpy black sweater. I wore flat, black boots that might as well have been corrective shoes surrounded by all those tot-tering heels. These women clacked. I clomped.

The bouncer waved us in without asking for ID. We were old enough to never get carded and young enough to still get disappointed about it.

Viv pushed the wheelchair toward a large empty table up front that had a homemade sign with the words, RESERVED BAND on it. Rob came over from practicing to thank us for coming out. He didnt know we were grateful just to have a place to go. I used to love that when we were dat-ing. Vivs husband was in a band too, so we always had a choice of venues.

People parted as we cut across the dance floor on our way to the table. I received lots of attention, Happy New Year! wishes and condescending you go, girl! pats. Apparently, my very existence among the scene was to be commended.

When we reached the table, I had a moments panic. It was a bar table. It wasnt so high that I couldve rolled under it, so I insisted it was fine. And it was fine, if I sat back from it a bit. Good thing Im tall. When the wait-ress came over, I ordered my new signature drink: Cranberry and vodka.

I drank cranberry and vodka because it came with the necessary straw. I had done enough time looking stupid with straws in wine glasses. At home, I felt free enough to sip my screw cap Chardonnay out of a big water bottle, but in public I tried to class it up a bit.

My drink arrived with a coffee stirrer, so Viv had to go up to the bar anyway. I sat cloaked in the darkness of the wall that was next to us, listening to the music. By my second drink, I was drunk. I knew this because I was hav-

ing to repeat myself more than usual. My post-stroke slur is even worse after a few cocktails.

The band played an old Train song. Viv and I had always danced to it. It didnt matter if we were at opposite ends of the bar or if one of us was in line in the ladies room when it started. We would hear it and run, meeting out on the dance floor.

Do you mind? she asked.Of course not. Go, I said.And just like that, she was out on the floor.I have no rhythm now. I cant chair dance. I cant bob my head. I cant

even tap my foot in time. Im like that cowboy friend of Kevin Bacons in Footloose. The only thing I can do without looking like a total spaz is shake my shoulders kind of a shimmy.

I ordered another cranberry and vodka. The song ended. Viv came back, and the band took a break. Rob came over and sat down. He gave me a long look.

Youre drunk, he said. I hadnt said a thing.In the hospital, hed been the only one who could figure out what I

was saying. Back when all I could do was grunt and gesture. When even my parents shrugged. Well, we had just lived together for three years. I hadnt lived with either of my parents for eons.

You know me so well, I said.What?You know me so well, I shouted, giving new meaning to the

word slur.Hours passed. The band kept playing. Friends I knew through Rob or

Vivian came over to say hello. I usually didnt like running into people that hadnt seen the new me old co-workers, acquaintances, men I had dated casually. The pity looks, the uncomfortable silence as they tried to figure out what to say. I always wanted to start, So! You can see what Ive been up to. Whats new with you?

This was different. These were good friends of good friends. They seemed genuinely happy to see me.

There were only minutes left in the old year. I thought about where I was this time last year. Asleep in a hospital bed.

Viv brought me a plastic champagne glass with a straw bobbing in it. It looked ready to fall out.

I could so easily have not been there. I looked at all the people on the dance floor, Rob behind the drums, the band counting down. Viv put a silly party hat on my head and jumped up and down with a horn in her mouth.

So I wear clunky shoes, drink out of straws and can only shimmy my shoulders. This whole crazy New Years might be taking place without me. But I was there to see it, to be part of it. I slurped my champagne through a straw at midnight and felt grateful. You go, girl, indeed.

A New New Yearsby Amy Quincy

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One of her ways of commemorating this occasion is coordinating our churchs annual living nativity scene. Each year, she enlists church and commu-nity families to sign up for a night in the manger. She recruits people for the parts of: shepherds, wise men, angels and, of course, Mary and Joseph.

On the nights leading up to Christmas Eve, passersby pause and mar-vel at our living nativity. They photograph the beautiful scene and encourage others to come and look as well. Drivers pull up and gaze for several minutes before heading on their way again. It is a wonderful sight.

Then, on Christmas Eve night, the nativity comes to life one final time as part of our churchs Christmas Eve service. After the benediction, everyone in the congregation heads outside. They hold lit candles and sing Away in a Manger. The members of the living nativity hold their poses while the congregation takes pictures.

A few days later, the manger is dismantled, and the costumes are packed away for another year. My Aunt Barbara Jean is usually quite pleased with how well her favorite project goes each year. In fact, I have only heard one little tiny complaint from her if you can even call it a complaint. One of these days, we are going to have a real baby in that manger, Barbara Jean said. I have always wanted a real baby to play Baby Jesus.

On November 24, 2010, my husband, Craig, and I welcomed our baby boy, Evan Wayne Face, into the world. It was a wonderful, magical time for us, and we were excited to share our joy with everyone. We brought him home and began our new lives together.

A few weeks later, Barbara Jean called to check on us. How is little Evan? she asked. I told her he was doing just fine, and we were settling in

nicely. Listen, you dont have to answer me now, but I wanted to see what you thought of Evan playing Baby Jesus in the nativity this year. Hes the perfect age. Will you think about it? I told her I would, and I promised to get back with her in the very near future.

I talked with my husband, and we agreed that Evan would be a beau-tiful Baby Jesus. We also agreed that it was the least we could do for my Aunt Barbara Jean. After all, this is what she always wanted. I called her a bit later and told her that we would be happy to participate.

On December 24, 2010 (Christmas Eve), Evan was exactly one month old. We bundled him up in onesies, pajamas and a sleep sack. Craig and I dressed in our Joseph and Mary costumes, and we walked out to the nativity scene.

I sat on a hay bale and cradled Evan while Craig looked on adoringly. Moments later, the congregation filed out of the sanctuary, holding their lit candles. They gathered around us and sang Away in a Manger.

I could hear chatter through the verses of the song. Oh, arent they beautiful, one lady said. Wait a minute, whispered another. Thats a real baby! Thats Craig and Melissas baby!

The news spread throughout the crowd, and soon everyone realized that there was a real baby in the manger. I listened to the singing, held Evan closer and smiled. Craig leaned in and whispered, I think we made history.

We did, I replied. And we also made someones Christmas wish come true.

I looked down at Evan and kissed his forehead. He was fast asleep on some hay, in a manger, on Christmas Eve.

A Real Babyin the Manger

by Melissa Face

Nobody I know loves Christmas more than my Aunt Barbara Jean. She enjoys buying gifts, cooking meals, decorating her home, and celebrating with her friends and family. But I am sure that if I asked her what she loves most about this holiday, she would say, I love celebrating the day Jesus was born.

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Dont you want your wife to pick it out? I asked him.Shes busy with school. Would you go with me?Because Id just received a notice about a 20 to 40 percent sale at

Belk, I steered him in that direction. My son doesnt have to shop at Brooks Brothers; hes satisfied with a deal. We travelled to the mall. He drove. We talk-ed about what hes learned on his fourth year rotations, and how he enjoys sewing up people. We discussed student loans and how expensive it is for fourth year medical students to fly to interviews out of state. We also spoke about the antics of his wifes little dog, and how Ollie was becoming less of a yapping nuisance for neighbors in their apartment.

The Indian fellow in the mens department was more than accommodating. Axis, the sales clerk, asked my son his surname. Hoffman, my son replied.

I shall call you Master Hoffman, he said.I dont know, I said. Hes married, so maybe hes no longer a

Master. I smiled. Axis smiled. Well, if I call him Mr. Hoffman, and you are Mrs. Hoffman, well, that might seem like you two are married.

I laughed. Like one of those Hollywood divas who marry younger men?

Exactly.Axis guided him to the dressing room and summoned me to come

and sit right outside. He had my son do the catwalk, unbutton his jacket, and put his hand in his pocket, sort of GQ Magazine style.

Erik tried on three suits, and Axis asked him his opinion as to his favorite.

I like the first.No, he said. You must love it. I want you to buy only what

you love!I love it, my shy son said.You need a shirt and tie too, I added.Axis led us to the shirts which were also on sale and pulled out a

striped blue one that he announced would be perfect with the gray suit. Then, Axis grabbed a red striped tie and plopped it atop the shirt. This is the power look. A smart boy like you needs this.

I nodded.Shall I ring it up for you? he asked.Not yet. I think he needs new shoes, I said.Off to the shoe department we marched. Axis found a few pairs, and

Erik decided on the black tied ones. Pick what is comfortable. You dont want to get irritable during an

interview due to tight footwear, I cautioned. You need socks? Mom, Ive got socks.So we whirled over to the counter, and Axis said he could set my son

up with a new credit card, which would result in another discount.Lovely, I said. Put down my address as I am paying for this.

Christmas comes soon.Take the pants to Lees Tailors. Only nine dollars and get them

hemmed in forty minutes! our guide/salesman, Axis, said.We marched there with his new purchase and the seamstress whisked

out her pins and measuring tape, making a few quick marks on one leg. We took the ticket she handed us and vowed wed be back within the hour.

What now? I asked.Lets get lunch, Mom.So I led him to a place where I usually dine with friends, who like me

have grown kids that we discuss over our salads. My son and I chatted amiably all through lunch, and I found I was having as pleasant a time laughing and reminiscing with my grown child as I ever have had. We hadnt done anything particularly special, and yet I was filled with that feeling of still being needed and of still having an opinion that he valued.

I gave him a gift of a new suit that day, but he gave me a gift too his attention, appreciation and time. I think I got the better deal.

Adult Childrenby Erika Hoffman

Sometimes its rewarding to go shopping with your adult son for his needs. My son is 27 and married. He felt he needed a black or gray suit for his interviews for a medical residency.


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Read It!Nicole SaysRead Where Does Santa go on Vacation after Christmas? by Elizabeth Rooksby Nicole McManusIt is the day after Christmas, and Tyler is curious about where Santa goes now that he has finished his work. Tyler goes to each of his family members and asks them where they think Santa goes on vacation and each provides a different location. With every new location there is a lesson that teaches how to say hello in that countys native tongue. There is even a pronunciation key in the back of the book.

Children and adults everywhere will love this latest book by Elizabeth Rooks. Where Does Santa go on Vacation after Christmas?

is the first in a Santa-related trilo-gy focusing on teaching children about various cul-tures around the world. The author has written an excellent childrens book that will pique childrens interest in languag-es, and the pro-nunciation key will help adults teach children the correct way to pronounce each hello. This is an exciting start

to a very promising series. Plus, the bright illustrations will bring smiles to the faces of children at every age. I highly recommend this book for every adult with a child in her life.

I adore childrens books that not only entertain but also teach. Elizabeth Rooks has done this perfectly with this book. Foreign languages are easily learned when they are incorporated into a childs language early in life. This is a great book to encourage a child to learn to read, but also to learn about other languages and cultures. Plus the pictures of Santa dressed in a toga or a reindeer surfing will delight any childs imagination. I cant wait to see what Santa does next!

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Good things come in small packages, and angels come when least expected. The Christmas of 1969 my husband, Randy, and I met our little angel and received a most unexpected gift. He arrived when we needed a mira-cle. Every Christmas morning since that one, we always ask one another, Wonder where Frank is? Do you think he is ok?

That fall and winter Randy was in the Coast Guard and stationed at Little Creek, Virginia. His cutter was in and out at sea patrolling the Chesapeake Bay. I was working as a teacher assistant in a small diagnostic cen-ter in the area. I had taken the semester off from college for the birth of our son, Timothy Blane. Life doesnt always cooperate. Our tiny voyager did not stay with us long enough to come home from the hospital. We returned home alone and devastated. We were heartbroken and broke. Both were realities.

Enter Frank. He was just what the doctor ordered. A six year old child with special needs was not the Christmas card picture of a cherub. But he caught my eye and heart in the classroom where I was assigned. He was hyper-active, aggressive and angry. He had a story but could not find the words to share it. He ran around the classroom screaming and striking out at other chil-dren. His behavior was so uncontrollable that I actually rode the school bus to help transport him. Safety was a concern for everyone.

As the holiday vacation approached, the staff at the center began plan-ning for the students who would need assistance. I overheard them talking about Frank. His family lived in a small project apartment. His dad and step-mother had a new baby. Frank was a concern for them.

My maternal instincts kicked in. At first I thought Randy and I should just sponsor him. We would provide his Christmas and family needs. That would be a financial challenge for us but we knew we could ask our fami-lies to help. Frank would be our Christmas. Spend the money on him not us. I had my plan ready to share with my husband when he returned from sea.

When I expressed my plan at the center, the staff agreed that it would be a great idea. They suggested that Randy and I visit the family to see what they needed. The visit turned out to be one of the most incredible experiences of our lives. It set the wheels in motion for a true Christmas miracle. Not only did Franks parents agree, they asked if we could have him spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with us.

We had a child for Christmas. We had been dreading the holiday because of our loss. Plans for a first Christmas as parents were crushedor so we thought. My heart was so full. Joy began to fill the empty space, both physically and spiritually. Hope filled our tiny apartment for the first time in months.

It was a humble space. We lived in a one bedroom over the house below. It needed paint and updating but was all we could afford on a seamans pay. We budgeted one dollar a day to eat. Every dime was rationed and careful-ly spent. But somehow we were given this child to care for when we needed him the most.

We couldnt leave the Tidewater area because Randys cutter was on Bravo Charlie status. He had to be able to return to sea within an hour. We called our family in Richmond and told them our plan. They agreed to help. They also wanted to make sure Franks family had a small Christmas, too. Money and gifts were promised. They could deliver toys and gifts before the big day. With the money we bought a five dollar tree at the local gas station, ornaments at the dime store and food on the military base.

When the staff at the center heard what we had planned to do they decided to do the same for all the children. They opened up their hearts and budgets. They reached out to their families with the same request. Spend the money on the children instead of themselves. Frank had stirred the holiday spirit in everyone.

Christmas Eve arrived. We had more than we ever imagined for this family. We delivered the boxes and packages just before dark. It was cold and the smell of kerosene came through the door as Franks dad opened it. The look on his face is still as vivid today as it was all those years ago. He was over-whelmed and so grateful.

We returned to our apartment with Frank. He was shy at first. Not the little boy I knew from school. We had the tree up with packages under-neath. His name was written in large letters on each one. Supper was Smithfield ham, sweet potatoes, lima beans and coconut cake. He ate with his hands because he was so hungry.

At bedtime we told him Santa would come while we were sleeping. He nodded like he vaguely knew the name. I put him in the snowman paja-mas my mom had sent. He snuggled up in bed between us as I read a book to him. Soon I felt his head gently falling over on my shoulder. We had a child for Christmas. The faint sound of a tiny bell ringing fell on the air as we all closed our eyes.

An Unexpected Giftby Marsha Tennant

Teacher says, every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings. Its a Wonderful Life, 1946

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When I was offered the opportunity to interview singer Gloria Gaynor, I was excited, to say the least. Her legendary hit, I Will Survive, has touched millions of people, myself included, with its positive message since being released in October of 1978. Written by Frederick J. Perren and Dino Fekaris, this disco hit won a Grammy for Best Disco Recording in 1980 and was #1 on Billboard Magazines Top 100 in the same year. In the 35 years since, people everywhere have used this pop culture anthem to cele-brate victory over the challenges in their lives. This month, the singer will release her new book, We Will Survive, a collection of essays that highlight the healing power of music. Co-written by Vanity Fair reporter, Sue Carswell, the book recounts real-live experiences of a wide range of people, from an Oklahoma bombing rescuer to a 9/11 mother to a Holocaust survivor. A companion CD features the original and extended version of the iconic song, as well as He Gave Me Life, a beautiful piece celebrating Ms. Gaynors Christian faith.

After arranging a time with her manager, Stephanie Gold, I met Ms. Gaynor in their Grand Strand condo. Lovely and elegant, I was immediately put at ease by her genuine warmth and welcoming smile. We set-tled on the couch to talk, and I asked Ms. Gaynor why she chose our area for her vacation home. I love it here, she began. I fell in love with the Myrtle Beach area in 1975 when I performed at the Holiday Inn for two weeks. The manager even invited us to his home for dinner. People here are so nice I hadnt seen that kind of warmth any-where since my childhood neighborhood in Newark, New Jersey. When I was growing up, everyone knew everyone, and we all took care of one other. The singer went on to tell me that she hadnt been in the area since the 70s until she and Stephanie visited Stephanies brother, a golfer who had a condo here. The two women decided to buy a condo and now visit regularly, travelling

back and forth from Ms. Gaynors New Jersey home. I like to be wherever the weather is best!

The story of I Will Survive is nothing short of amazing. Ms. Gaynors career was on its way up after her hit Never Can Say Goodbye, but while performing in New York City, the singer fell from the stage. She got up

and continued performing, but the next day woke up unable to move. After back surgery and a lengthy recovery, her recording contract was in jeopardy. At the request of her label, Ms. Gaynor went into the stu-dio to record a cover of a Righteous Brothers song, Substitute, and the B side wasI Will Survive. The singer knew this song would be some-thing special and told me that God told her, Little girl, this one is for you. She continued, saying, We went to the record company and asked them to promote I Will Survive, but they refused the presi-dent of the company wanted the other side to be a hit. So, we took the song to radio stations and clubs like Studio 54, and they began playing it. People loved my song and responded with an outpouring of requests the public made it popular.

Ms. Gaynor grew up one of seven children. Her mother struggled to raise the family alone. At age five, a trusted neighbor sexually abused young Gloria, and even though he did not complete the act, her innocence was stolen. She writes eloquently about

her journey in We Will Survive, describing another instance of abuse by her step-father. As a teenager, she was again attacked, and this time brutally raped, by someone she knew. She says these events, none of which she reported, colored her relationships and eventually her marriage and, later, divorce. I became a Christian a few years after I was married and was trying to do the Christian thing and keep my marriage together, but, instead, I became a co-dependent enabler. God showed me a vision of a woman leaning over a baby carriage, trying to keep

Southern SnapsWe (All) Will Survive:

A Conversation with Gloria Gaynorby Leslie Moore

the doctor away from her sick child, and I realized that I could not save him.

While most hit songs fade away, I Will Survive con-tinued to be popular, becoming an anthem for those struggling with lifes difficult times. I came up with the idea of a book years ago, said Ms. Gaynor. I have been hearing stories that were so empowering, stories of courage and victory. God put everything into place for this to happen. Stephanie began researching ways to gather stories for the book; contacting grief support groups

and editors for help.

Eventually, 40 essays were selected; including Ms. Gaynors story of her only sisters murder.

Several Sasee contributors have essays included in the book. One writer,

Linda OConnell, wrote a long note to me about meeting Stephanie and Ms. Gaynor in St. Louis, saying, Ms. Gaynor is such a

down-to-earth, spiritual, fun woman. Shes someone youd want to share a cup of peach tea with. Each of us could feel her genuine

spirit. It was as if she were an old friend. Years ago, the uplifting lyrics to her song, I Will

Survive, carried me through some tough times. When Gloria Gaynor spoke to us in person, she spoke to the part of our hearts and souls where her voice and lyrics have been imbedded for decades. She touched us deeply.

The day we met was part of a well-deserved break for Ms. Gaynor, who still spends much of her time touring. She has a large fan base in Mexico, where she still performs, and told me a little about her love for this beautiful country. At one time, the baggage handlers in the Mexican airports would greet me by name! Now, the government has stopped foreigners from perform-ing as much. I used to have a home in Acapulco. It was a wonderful place we would get all dressed up and ride around in a jeep, of all things, going from one club to the other dancing. I had so much fun. The shopping was amazing, too. I could find clothes there that I never saw in the States. I still love Mexico, but its a very different place today.

The hardest thing about touring is the travel, Ms. Gaynor told me

when I asked her about life on the road. Airports havent made it easy. I wish I could just buy a ticket and get on the plane, but its not that simple anymore. She went on to tell me the best thing about touring is a good audience. When you tell a joke, and everyone laughs, thats what it feels like to be onstage. Its the best feeling in the world. Before she performs, the singer is very careful with her voice no iced drinks three days before a performance, no chocolate, nuts or spicy foods, anything that might cause acid reflux. I believe my talent is a gift from God to be shared with the world.

For fun, Ms. Gaynor loves shopping, like most of us! Theyve made it very easy these days with online shopping, she said laughing. A book lover, she is currently reading, Illusion, by Frank Peretti. The singer also enjoys cooking when she has time and shared the recipe for

one of her favorite dishes. Make this and people will think youve cooked for hours Ive given this recipe to so many people.

Chicken a la GaynorCut up chicken, seasoned with salt, pepper and Lowrys Seasoning SaltCook at 425 degrees for about 45 minutesWhile the chicken is cooking, combine:1 8 ounce container of sour cream1 can cream of chicken soup1 can B & B mushrooms4 ounces whole milk2 ounces cooking sherryPour sauce over chicken and cook for 15 more minutes. Serve with saffron rice and a colorful vegetable.

As we were finishing up our time together, I asked Ms. Gaynor about her holiday plans. She told me she would be in Germany entertaining the U.S. troops. My niece works for the Army, and she arranged it. There are a lot of suicides of American soldiers, and they want me to speak to them about surviv-al. I will fast and pray for the right words, she told me with tears in her eyes.

I left Ms. Gaynor feeling honored to have met this amazing woman. Her kind spirit shines through with her every word, and the hug she gave me as I left was heartfelt and genuine this singer/entertainer/inspirational speaker is truly a star in every sense of the word.

We Will Survive and the companion CD are available at local bookstores and Amazon.com. Visit www.gloriagaynor.com for more information.



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Mom, do you think the Christmas cake is appropriate to bring to an adult dinner party? my daughter asked during our phone conversation, two weeks before Christmas.

Of course, I said. Its the perfect holiday dessert. But I knew what she meant. It was our special cake that wed been making together since she was five. It was a tradition. Although we loved it, the ingredients and method of creating it might not appeal to sophisticated, grown up tastes. I have to admit, had I known what it was made of before tasting the cake, I wouldnt have tried it.

The basic recipe had come from a co-worker who had placed the sweet treat in the lounge for all the employees to enjoy. Layers of thin, moist cake, separated by red and green, fruit flavored fillings were covered with white cream. Not only was it delicious, it looked like the expensive Yule logs in the specialty food catalogs the ones that you would be proud to send as gifts and would be excited to receive in the mail. I asked her for the recipe, even though I doubted that I would have the time or patience to make it.

When she gave me the from the kitchen of Anna index card, I was sure she had made a mistake. Five ingredientsno baking? Not possible. She assured me that it was truly that easy.

I re-read the directions, ticking off the few items that I needed. This could be the perfect mother/daughter holiday project. My five-year-old loved helping in the kitchen. I often gave her a bowl with something to mix while I cooked. Successful cake or not, she would have a great time playing with food.

That first year, we made one log. It wasnt quite as elegant as Annas had been, but it was a hit with the family. My husband and son had watched us make it, so they took tentative bites of the dessert before gobbling the rest.

The next year, we made two cakes: one to take to a relatives holiday party, the other for our Christmas celebration. My daughter was so proud as she sprinkled the finishing touches sparkling red and green sugar crystals

Let Them Eat

(Christmas) Cakeby Rose Ann Sinay

over her very own, snow white masterpiece.Every year we added to, changed, and experimented with the ingredi-

ents. We competed with each other to create the fanciest, tastiest cake. Some years were better than others; it didnt matter. It was an evolving recipe.

So now that we live too many hours away to make the Christmas cake together, could we continue our tradition? Would she be crushed if some-one at the friends dinner party took a bite and fed the rest to the dog?

I decided that I, too, would make the colorful confection and take it to a social gathering in our community. My daughter and I picked a day and time to bake together while we talked on the phone. We would both go out-side out our circle of comfort and share with our friends.

How did it turn out? Did everybody like it as much as we do, or did the dog get fat?

I am giving you our recipe. Grab someone you love, have some fun and find out for yourself. Create a cake and make it your own!

The Christmas Cake1 box graham crackersWater*1small box cherry gelatin*1 small box lime gelatin2 1/2 cups natural applesauce, divided1 large tub whipped toppingMaraschino cherries (optional)Candy spearmint leaves (optional) *can be made with sugar-free gelatin

Mix 1 1/4 cups of applesauce with 1 package of cherry gelatin in a bowl. (Reserve 1 tablespoon of the dry powder for decoration.) Mix the lime gelatin (less one tablespoon) with 1 1/4 cups applesauce in another bowl. Place two graham crackers (two sections each) end to end on a flat, oval plate. With a pastry brush, quickly whisk the tops with water (dont saturate) and then spread 1 to 2 tablespoons of the red gelatin/applesauce mixture on top covering the entire cracker (it should not be a thick layer.) Top with 2 more crackers and repeat the steps: brush with water and spread the green mixture. Continue stacking crackers and alternating fillings until your cake is tall enough, or you run out of crackers. Completely cover the log with all the whipped topping. Use the back of a large spoon to sweep topping into snow peaks all over the cake.

Insert tooth picks or dry spaghetti pieces on the ends and middle of cake. Wrap loosely with plastic wrap and let it sit in the refrigerator overnight. The longer it sits, the better it tastes.

Place a few Maraschino cherries at the base and top corner. Slice a few candy spearmint leaves in half and place around cherries.

Just before cutting it into thin slices, sprinkle the saved dry gelatin powder lightly over the top in thick, alternating stripes of red and green.

Variations for next years cake: add layers of vanilla pudding or cream cheese mixed with whipped topping and a little confectionery sugar. Use your imagination.

This dessert should take an entire Christmas holiday to create: fifteen minutes to put the cake together and the rest to spend enjoying it with friends and family.

Merry Christmas to all!

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Sarah Pope, Director of SOS Healthcare, met me at Making Change Consignment, one of the many programs run by this grass roots non-profit that provides programs and services to those in need. Making Change Consignment, located in Myrtle Beach at 1106 North Kings Highway, pro-vides not only great bargains for shoppers, but a place for young people with autism to acquire a variety of skills needed for a successful life. The day I vis-ited, laughter and lively conversation came from a group of young men who were creating beautiful, uniquely decorated lights from bottles to be sold in the store.

Sarah, tell us a little about your life and family.My husband Greg and I live with my two sons, Liem, 12, and Ben, 19, in the Forestbrook area. We are planning to move to Murrells Inlet soon where I have a lot on Collins Creek. Greg and I are recently married only a year now! Both of my sons have autism. Ben is my biological son, and I adopted Liem when he was 5 years old. Both are doing very well. Ive also been a foster parent to ten children over the last fifteen years needless to say, Im used to many different experiences!

Im originally from London, England, and came to America when I was 20 years old to visit an aunt in Texas. I liked it so much that I never left. I think we (Europeans) travel more Ive travelled all over the world.

How long have you worked with special needs children?My entire career I worked in group homes for years and was a parent advo-cate in the Horry County Schools. I was approached by the founder of SOS Healthcare, Dr. Bill Davis, to join the Board of Directors. I did, and became more involved, eventually taking over as director three years ago.

Please tell us a little about Making Change Consignment.Currently, about one in 50 children is born with autism. As these children graduate from high school, they need to either go on to college or to work, but this is difficult for many. For example, one of the young men here today is very bright and should be going to college, but his acute social anxiety makes it impossible for him to be around new people and experiences. We received a grant from the Developmental Disabilities Council of South Carolina that pro-vides funding for the programs we offer through the store. Here, young people learn skills needed to run the store, which would translate to any retail busi-ness, as well as learning how to interact with all types of people. We also have a laundry program in the back we dont sell clothes, but we do wash them for other programs that provide services for the homeless.

How can our readers help and/or get involved?Come and shop we have some wonderful things at good prices. We always need items for the store as well. Some people consign their things and others donate outright. If you are good at a craft and would like to spend an after-

Living the Good Life Sarah Pope

noon teaching it to our students, please call us! We have different groups every day and are always looking for new crafting ideas.

On December 10th, we will have our annual Substitute for Santa event where 60 to 70 kids will be treated to a pizza party and given a $100 Walmart gift card to spend on Christmas goodies. We still need volunteers and donations.

Why would you say you live The Good Life?I have a wonderful husband, two great kids, a supportive mum, and I get to do what I love every day. There is nothing in my life thats not great. I believe that when you do good things, good things come back to you.

What is your favorite holiday tradition?In the past, weve spent the holidays with my mum and dad, but we lost my dad last year, so this Christmas, were all going to Charleston. Being British, well wear silly hats at dinner and have Christmas crackers!

Do you have New Years Eve plans?I love to sleep, so I probably wont make it up for the New Year. We stay at home with the children and have a party of our own. We play music and dance but probably not until midnight.

Making Change Consignment is located in Myrtle Beach at 1106 N. Kings Highway. They are open 10 am-6 pm Monday through Friday and 10 am-7 pm on Saturday. For more information, call 843-945-4006.


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Living the Good Life Angie Rodriguez and Roxy Bartz

Angie Rodriguez and Roxy Bartz are co-owners of Two Sisters with Southern Charm in

Garden City, a boutique filled with beautiful vintage and shabby chic

home dcor. As they prepare for the holiday season, Angie shared a little about their lives with Sasee.

Where do you live?We both live in Murrells Inlet and moved here just this past July

from Pennsylvania. I am married with three children a stepson who

is a Marine, a son going to college in San Diego and a daughter who has spent

as many hours as we have making our store a success. Roxy is also married with four chil-

dren two sons and two daughters. She is expecting her first grandchild which is very exciting. If you were to ask any of our children who our favorites are they would unanimously say the boys. No, not the male off-spring but my yellow lab and Roxys Boston Terrier and English Springer!

Why would you say you live The Good Life?We love what we are doing and have family and friends that are always there for us. And as my daughter said when we first moved here How can you be sad when you have a palm tree outside your window? Both Roxy and I love finding all the wonderful items in our shop, repurposing and displaying them and the customers are the cherries on top all in all a perfect combination for a Good Life recipe.What is your favorite holiday tradition?Mine would bethe hunt for the perfect live Christmas tree and cutting it down. This is a tradition that was started when I was a child. Roxys is the playing of games after the holiday dinner. Just a little side note, our family LOVES each other but we play to win.

Tell us a little about your business?Our store is a representation of all that we love but cant fit in our house. Our diverse inventory is a mixture of rustic cabin, beach cottage, glitzy glamour, 50s-70s retro, and I remember this from when I was a kid. Both Roxy and I come from very artistic and creative parents. When we are together our inher-ited creativity soars. This magnetic field of creative energy allows us to offer unique items and display the everyday items in a fun and eye catching way our prices are great, too.

Anna Khachatryan and Marieta MnatsakanianAnna Khachatryan, owner of Coastal Wine Boutique, operates her store in the Hammock Shops with her sister, Marieta. Born in Armenia, the two delightful women spent a pleasant hour with Sasee talking about their lives and work.

Tell us a little about yourself.Anna: I have lived in this country for 35 years I came here with my husband. There was a war in Armenia in the late 1980s that left the rest of my family with-out power or water for three years. In 1992, we brought them all here. Family is so important to us. My parents live with us and are 90 and 85 years old.Why would you say you live The Good Life?Marieta: My life is very good I love being in America, and every Thanksgiving I give thanks for this wonderful country.Anna: I agree with my sister! We have a great life here. Coastal Wine Boutique has three locations in the area in Market Common, on 21st Ave. N. in Myrtle Beach and here in the Hammock Shops. I love being able to offer a wide variety of unique wines from small wineries. Our wines mostly come from Eastern Europe, and you wont find them anywhere else. They are all of the highest quality. The Armenians have been making wine for more than 8,000 years!What is your favorite holiday tradition?Anna: We celebrate twice first on December 25th and then again on January 6th, the Orthodox Christmas. The family is always together on the holidays. On New Years Eve, we have a good party and sing and dance togeth-er. My 90 year old father still dances and remembers the words to traditional songs. We believe in sharing all that we have. I give love and love comes back to me. Our family cherishes each other and our friends.

Tell us a little about your business?Anna: We love our customers, and enjoy talking with them about wine. I decorated this shop to give a feel for Armenia and make people comfortable. We have tapas to enjoy with our wine and are now serving sweet and savory crepes for lunch. Our hours are 11 am-6 pm, but if a group wants to come later, they can call ahead and I will stay open for them. We also have beautiful hand blown bottles, perfect for gifts, at great prices. Come see us!


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NORTHWOOD PLAZA7827 NORTH KINGS HWY. | MYRTLE BEACH, SC 29572 | 843-497-2916

WOODSIDE VILLAGE4440 HWY. 17 BYPASS | MuRRELLS INLET, SC 29576 | 843-299-1071

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Were too late.One glance at my daughters face and I

knew she mirrored my own feelings. Hold on, hon. There has to be something we can do.

No, look, the tree is gone and no one is at the tables. Meg pointed to where only yesterday the Christmas Angel Tree had invited mall passersby to spread Christmas joy to those less fortunate. Weve broken the tradition, Mom. Christmas is ruined.

Christmas ruined? When had the Angel Tree tradition become the most important part of Christmas to my young teen? True, wed kept the tradi-tion, the two of us, since her Brownie troop wrapped gifts one year. Back then, money had been tight, but we still contributed by making the gifts look festive. The next year we planned ahead and chose a childs name from the tree. Wed imagine the little one and carefully pick the gifts. It became a special time I spent only with my youngest, and I looked forward to it.

I didnt know how much our tradition meant to her, though, or that would I have to wait until so near to Christmas to be able to pay for the gift. I should have known that a Christmas Eve payday would cut it too close. And now, as she told me once more, we were too late.

Meg sighed and turned away, her disappointment deepening my own. What could we do?

Id like to say I prayed and the heavens opened as an angel swooped down with an idea. Instead, a nebulous thought worked its way through my burgeoning pity party. You know, there are others who need to be remem-bered.

Meg turned around. Like who? Not sassy. Interested.I cant think of anyone at the moment. But Im sure theres a child

who needs our help. Lets go see if anything jumps out at us. We wandered into the childrens department. I dont know what I was

thinking. Clothes for boys and girls of all ages surrounded us. I should have kept my thoughts to myself. We cant buy for everyone.

What do we do? Meg looked so hopeful when we entered. I couldnt disappoint her again. Lets pray about it. We needed guidance or wed be overwhelmed. Moving to a corner of the store, we said a quick prayer. Then we waited. And listened.

I think we need something for an eighteen month little girl.My head snapped up. I hadnt sensed anything like that or anything

at all for that matter but Meg looked sure. So, we picked out warm pajamas and cute outfits for an eighteen month-old baby girl. At the checkout, Meg slipped off. When she returned she had a large rag doll in her arms. She needs this, too.

I checked the price tag. The budget could stretch that much more. Our items were totaled, bagged and paid for before either of us realized we still

had no clue who was to be the recipient. We had it gift wrapped and left the mall. Though we didnt speak the whole way to the car, I knew we had the same thought now what?

Behind the wheel I sent up a silent prayer, two questions really. Who needs all this? And how do we get it to her?

I started the ignition and pointed homeward. All through the carols ringing in the radios speakers, I heard peace. It really was there, resounding in the music, telling me the answer would come at the right time. Meg must have sensed it, too, because she didnt ask until I turned in a direction she didnt expect. Where are you going, Mom?

Theres a church up here, honey. I think that is where we need to take the gifts.

Thats not our church.I know. StillShe nodded a quiet okay.I turned into the church parking lot, barely noting the other cars pull-

ing in. Gathering packages, we walked up the steps to the building. A man holding bulletins smiled. Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas to you, too. Is there a pastor available?He slipped into the building, returning with a pretty lady in a scarlet

dress suit. She held out her hand. Hi, Im Pastor Lisa Walker. What can I do to help you?

I shook her hand, wondering if shed believe me. She listened, her smile never changing, as I told of our tradition and how wed missed out on our angel. When I got to the part about shopping for an eighteen-month-old little girl, her eyes grew bright. We had no idea who we were shopping for or what to do with the gifts until I remembered your church. I believe were sup-posed to bring them here. Do you know someone who could use this? We held out the packages.

She blinked several times and accepted the gifts, her lashes glistening. I might.

Good, Merry Christmas. We turned to go. Do you want to come in? You are welcome.Thank you, no. Weve got to get ready for services at our church. We left, but I noticed she stayed to watch us go. She waved, and I

waved back. This time in the car there were no doubts. Thinking of what just

transpired sent waves of excitement throughout the vehicle. Every time Meg or I looked at each other, we giggled. I love remembering that Christmas. We werent too late. We were right on time. We never did learn who received the presents, and I dont think either of us ever really wanted to. It was a gift to us to know what God had done.

Several years have passed since that Christmas Eve. Meg is now a young woman living on her own. I still make sure to get at least one angel off the Angel Tree each year. So does she. We havent been late even once since that Christmas Eve. However, should we ever be late again, well know to just wait for the plan.

Never Too Lateby Jennifer Lynn Cary


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Pawleys Island(843) 314-9314

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OUR MISSION: Making Change Consignment is a program of SOS Autism Health Care, a non-profit addressing the needs of our community since 1989. We are dedicated to preparing individuals on the autism spectrum to meet their potential for the working world. Also, the proceeds benefit SOS Autism.

Proceeds Benefit SOS Autism Health Care, Inc. (non-profit)1106 N. Kings Hwy. in Myrtle Beach 843-945-4006Monday- Friday 10 am-6 pm Saturday 10 am-7 pm


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Im about to go to the dark side.I am 49, a big traditionalist and lover of all

things Christmas. I play Bing Crosby when I write my cards; I take notes throughout the year of things to include in the Christmas letter; and I keep everybodys cards and letters from the previous year so I can comment on them.

As soon as the cards appear in the stores I start my quest. The image and words have to be just right humorous but not slapstick, sincere but not boring. As for the letter, I spend hours crafting it and double that checking it. Confession number one: Spelling errors in other peoples Christmas letters glare at me like a reindeer in headlights. (Alot is not one word friends!) I itch to grab a red pen and start circling.

Other peoples typos aside, I cherish the tradition of sending and read-ing cards and letters. What then is my problem?

2012: Cost of 65 cards, 45 U.S. stamps, 20 international stamps, and color Xeroxing of 65 double-sided letters? Hours of my time, five paper cuts, a permanent dent in my pen finger and a whopping $70!

I know Christmas is the season of staying in touch but the price of this joy is shockingly un-festive. The dark side, on the other hand, has no such sticker shock. Yes, I hate to admit it but I am succumbing to the E for enemy, email greeting.

I have fought a valiant fight, but my wallet is weakening. If whats important at Christmas is taking the time to reconnect with family and friends, what difference should it make whether the greeting and letter arrive in a card with a robin or an e-mail with attachment? The problem is, to me every-thing. Clicking an attachment just doesnt ooze Christmas like a red envelope, and Ive yet to catch a virus from a paper robin.

The traditionalist in me yearns to head out, wallet and list in hand: Christmas cards, color Xerox copies, new printer cartridges because I killed the ones at home printing 130 pages before discovering a typo, and last but not least, spending more hard-earned cash applying correct postage. This last stage is particularly important especially if the cotton-ball bobble on the top of Santas hat means the card is no longer flat and therefore necessitates extra post-age (embarrassing card lesson of Christmas 2009). Nothing destroys the Christmas spirit more than forcing your recipients to face the following un-fes-tive choice: a) refuse the letter (how Scrooge is that?); or b) pay the mailperson the additional 25 cents required. I preferred not to know what my recipients

did. Only someone callous and honest would admit the shameful thought that just popped in their head it depends on who the card was from and whether their news was worth coughing up a quarter. What if you pay and all thats inside is their signed name no news, no message, nothing. Confession two that drives me walnuts.

I dont want to be a Christmas-card-and-letter Scrooge this year but heres the real issue eating at my wallet: Do people even read it?

I have long suspected (or denied) that most people only glance at my two-sided masterpiece; the rest dont read it at all. If they do, only the women read it; men dont care about all the extra fluff, they just want the juicy bits.

Two Christmases ago, I put my theory to the test. We had moved house that year, and I purposely typed our new address at the bottom of the second page of the Christmas letter as opposed to on the envelope. I mailed all the cards out by the end of November (with correct postage) to ensure every-body would have our new address in plenty of time. That Christmas, the mail-man delivered to our home a soul-destroying trickle of cards in return. It was brutal.

I tried to convince myself people forgot to write down our new address. The truth is, I suspect most readers bailed around page one, paragraph three the European vacation. Page twos How we celebrated our anniversary probably sealed the deal. Either way, I fear few made it to the finish line, or the new address; even members of my own flesh and blood abandoned ship. Brutal.

I should just do a page of photos. People love photos. They wouldnt need to be from our latest vacation or anything; they just need to be current enough so people can see the two things they really care about: How much weight weve gained and whether we look older than dirt. I know this because confession number three I have blurted out at other peoples letters and photos, Oh my gosh she looks old.

Maybe thats why so many parents dont get in their photos. My final confession: I hate that. If I know you well enough to send a card, I know you well enough to know your age. Get in the photo! We get in ours. I want peo-ple to see us, warts and all; that way, when they see us in person, their jaws wont drop. I must admit, it never hurts to suck my cheeks in and turn side-ways a little; black, after all, is just not a festive color for the Christmas shot.

Maybe thats the compromise: Instead of the card and letter, Ill just send a single page of photos. That way, the traditionalist in me still gets to send something through the mail, and its cheaper. All Id have to pay is the postage. I could be really naughty and email people ahead of time announcing what were doing, and imploring them to overlook my dreadful photo. That way, if there is any extra postage owing, I wouldnt have to worry.

Some things are worth a quarter.

My Christmas Confessionsby Janey Womeldorf


A Unique BoutiqueWhere Casual

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The Hammock Shops10880 Ocean Hwy., Pawleys Island

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Monday - Saturday 10 - 5, Sunday 12 - 4

Thank you Genie Leigh Photography

Belk JCPenney Kmart Frank CineBowl & Grille

Santa Visits and PhotosSat, Nov. 23 @ 10:30AM

through Dec. 24th @ 5PM

More details atwww.inletsquaremall.com

or facebookExtended Holiday Shopping Hours10125 Hwy 17 Bypass, Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

Join us for aCoastal Carolina Holiday

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Take A New LookTake A New LookTake A New Look

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4691 Dick Pond Rd. | Unit C | Myrtle Beach, SC 29588Tuesdays & Thursdays 4 pm-7:15 pm Wednesdays 10 am-1 pm One Saturday a month 10 am-1 pm (Call for Saturdays)

Happy Holidays!

Office visit includes: Free body mass composition Patient discount cards Student discounts Medication

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occasional special offers!


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M e r r y , M e r r y

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My favorite line in the poem is A tree that looks at God all day and lifts her leafy arms to pray. Thats exactly the way I feel each year as I put up our Christmas tree. We carefully bend the branches of our artificial Frasier Fir so that they lift to the heavens as we string on hundreds of multi-colored lights. And even though this tradition is an all consuming, all-day ritual, the tree assembly is a bonding experience for my husband and I. Regardless of the blown out light bulbs and tangled tinsel that send most couples into utter rage, we see it as a time of remembrance and reflection thanking God for another year to face this hefty challenge together.

This tre

Sasee December 2013

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Transcript of Sasee December 2013