Christmas Letter -2012

This was Grandma's rough draft that we usually retyped, but Michael expressed a desire to have the original because it was "Grandma" 

Christmas Letter - 2013

Christmas 2013

Dear «Name_2»,

Well here it is Christmas again, and it seems like I barely finished writing you a letter for 2012. At this moment, I’m trying to think of some interesting story from my or Grandpa’s earlier days. But, first, I want to tell you once again that the gospel is true, and those who follow the path will be richly blessed by our Father In Heaven. Don’t take my word for it; test it yourself. You must be willing to really test it with an open mind and open heart. And you must remember always that your life will not be trouble-free. Troubles are part of our schooling. Problems teach us how to deal with and solve greater problems – good and bad. It would be my dearest wish that all my posterity could – and would – come to that path. There are not two complete and righteous paths – just one.

Now, I have decided on a story from my youth which I think you will be interested in. All of you (MOST of you) like horses, or, at least you like to RIDE horses. So, this is a horse story that really happened:

When I was about 14 or 15 years old, we lived on a very small farm in what was an old beat-up farm house. We had an old boar and one horse, pastured together because we only had one pasture. One night the horse and the boar got in a fight. I don’t remember what happened to the pig, but I don’t remember seeing it after we discovered there had been a fight, maybe the horse killed it with its hooves, or maybe my Dad got rid of him. I don’t remember why we had him in the first place.

Anyway, the horse was wounded in several places from the boar’s big ugly tusks. One of the wounds was located on his left hind leg almost on his hoof, but, it wouldn’t have been a wound on a hoof. The hooves are bone. This particular wound had become infected, and was full of crawling, sickening maggots… WORMS AND HORSES!!

I felt so sorry for the horse; he was actually a very good horse, but the maggots were terrible!

So I asked the vet what could be done for the poor horse, this is what he told me to do, and I did it twice a day. Morning and afternoon I took a pair of tweezers and an empty can to the pasture where the horse was. I was a little scared at first because I didn’t know if the horse would let me near him and let me pick the maggots out. You should have seen how that horse reacted to my being there and sticking the tweezers in his wound. He stood as quiet as a lamb and never even moved his foot until I was through.

I wish I could remember the horse’s name, but I can’t so he’ll just have to be “the horse”. Needless to say, he healed in a week or so, and I survived the ordeal with maggots. And that’s the end of the horse story for this time. Someday I’ll tell you all the stories about horses. Meanwhile……..

HAVE A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS

AND

REMEMBER THAT I LOVE YOU

Great-Grandma Bateman

Christmas Letter -2011

Dear ,

     It’s that time again.  Merry Christmas!  And may this Christmas be your very best so far.  As the year comes to a close it is time for me to think about and express my gratitude to my Heavenly Father for the richness and abundance of His blessings to me.  One of my most cherished blessings is my posterity.  YOU are a part of that.  You, my great-grandchild are a treasure.  You are a member of a wonderful group now numbering 93, ages 25 years through just a few months.

     This year your parents are receiving a special gift from me and I want you to know why they are receiving it.  When I was just a little girl I lived in Salt Lake City.  My older sister, Lois, would walk me down to the library and we would check out books.  When I was a little older I went by myself.  The book, Little Black Sambo, was the first book I ever remember reading to myself.  I don’t know how old I was, but I always did very well in school, so I know I was young.  I loved that book and read it many times.  Then when I was older I would tell the story to my own children.  Every one of your grandparents, that is one of my children, will remember hearing me tell that story.  I had it memorized so I didn’t even have to read it to them.  I have told it and read it to many of you, too.  When you come to see me next time ask me to read it to you again, if you’d like.

     I want to share another story with you about something I did and that Kent, Wayne, and Brenda did, too.  Kent was probably seven, Wayne and his cousin Doug were going on six, and Brenda would have been 4 and a half.  The three boys got hats, cap guns, and little vests for Christmas that year.  I knew this song: I Didn’t Know the Gun was Loaded.  I got it in my head that the 4 kids could perform it at our big Bateman Family Christmas Party; since we would have the kids perform at the party.  I borrowed the little skirt, vest, and hat for Brenda from Grandpa Bateman’s sister, Joy.  The boys sang the verses, and Brenda would sing the chorus sweetly as she batted her eyes. On the last chorus she would try to gruff up her voice so she was singing rough and harsher.  The night of the family party they were so charming, they became an overnight sensation with the adult family members clamoring for them to perform in their venues, usually ward parties.  They performed several more times and were a marvelous hit each time.  I’ll bet you didn’t know I was a show business premotor! On the back of this letter you will find the song!

     This Christmas there are some gifts that you can give to me.  Mend a quarrel, seek out a friend, write a letter, give a soft answer, keep a promise, find the time, forgive an enemy, listen, apologize, be kind, be gentle, laugh, then laugh some more, be glad, gladden someone else’s heart, speak love.  Life isn’t a matter of milestones, but of moments.  “Fill each unforgiving moment with sixty seconds worth of distance run…” (From IF, by Rudyard Kipling)

     Always remember who you are-a son or daughter of God-and conduct your life in accordance with that immeasurable blessing.  You may never know when or if you are making a memory for someone.  Live so the memories bring positive thoughts.  I love you so much, my daily prayers include you.  May the Miracle of His Birth light your path now and throughout the coming year. 

Love, Great Grandma Bateman

 

Oh, Miss Ellie was her name

Through the west she won her fame

Being handy with a gun,

But she drove the men insane

Cause she’d whip out her pistol

And shoot most any guy

And sing out this alibi…

CHORUS:

I didn’t know the gun was loaded

And I’m so sorry my friend

I didn’t know the gun was loaded

And I’ll never, never do it again!

Oh, one night she had a date

With a wrestling heavy weight

And he tried a brand new hold

She did not appreciate

So she whipped out her pistol

And shot him in the knee

Then quickly she sang this plea…

CHORUS:

 

Oh, one night she made a slip

Shot the sheriff in the hip

So the law took a hand

And made Ellie take the stand

But she pled, (spoken)

Your honor, I know you’ll turn me loose

When you hear my one excuse…

CHORUS:

Oh the jury all agreed that

Miss Ellie should be freed

But the sheriff’s jealous wife

Was indignant, yes indeed.

So she borrowed a shotgun

And shot this village belle

Then sang as Miss Ellie fell…

CHORUS:

Christmas Letter 2010

December  2010

Dear ,

HI!  It’s that time of year when I again take the opportunity to write to each of my great-grandchildren with a Christmas greeting and an expression of my love for you.  I do love each and every one of you, and would feel blessed to see you each day, but that is impossible, so this letter must suffice.  Nevertheless, it comes with my affection and concern for you.

You are my cherished great-grandchildren and I hope at this best of all seasons that you are well, happy, and healthy.  I have been having a few health problems, but I’m still “up-and-around” and think I’m doing better.  I want you to know that I am very, very grateful for the many, many blessings I receive every day.  Heavenly Father has been and is very good to me.  One of those blessings, perhaps my greatest blessing, is my family who help to care for me and visit me and love me.  And that includes you.  Thank you for your visits and help and concern. 

I so wish I could send you a big gift, wrapped in pretty paper and a big bow.  (You know, it was one of my great joys to wrap beautiful presents to put under the tree.  I was very good at it.  Did you know that to wrap those presents I had used paper and used ribbon.  Still I would take time to make every box as pretty as it could be.) But I cannot, so my gift to you is a story and the assurance of my love.  This will help you know Grandpa and me and help you know about your own family history. 

When I was very young, maybe four or five, I sat down to write my Christmas gift list to Santa Claus.  When I was finished (I suppose there was every wish a little girl could think of on it) I showed it to my mother.  Her comment was, “My, that’s a lot of things for one little girl.  You know Santa has lots and lots of girls and boys to give presents to.”  I was a little discouraged, but she said that we would send it anyway.  She took the letter and said she would mail it for me.  I spent the rest of the time until Christmas worrying whether I would get all the things I had asked for, and, if not, which I would receive.  It was exciting and worrisome all at the same time.  Guess what?!  As always Santa was his usual wonderful, loving, unselfish, miraculous self!  When I awoke on Christmas morning, I found under the tree a beautiful table, a cupboard, dishes and silverware (little girl size), and a doll who could open and shut her eyes and had “real” hair.  It was everything any little girl could possibly wish for and it swelled my heart with happiness.  Brenda’s family has that cupboard to this day, and Diana’s family has what is left of the dishes and silverware, for they were china dishes and real metal silverware. 

Now I will tell you a story from Grandpa’s youth.  His mother and father and the ten children lived in the very same house I live in now and where Grandpa and I spent essentially our whole

married lives.  It was the Great Depression and almost everyone was very poor.  Grandpa’s family was also very poor.  They were lucky because they did have enough to eat since they lived on a farm.  But Christmas presents were out of the question.  Your grandpa, Dean, and his closest brother, Dale were young boys.  They wanted a sled for playing in the snow.  I’m sure they asked for it, but I am just as sure their parents, Phil and Josie, knew they could never provide it.  Christmas morning arrived and the boys came down the stairs to find under the tree a brand new Radio Flyer sled.  Only one, to share.  Thrilled, they grabbed that sled and headed for the big hill on the north, the one we call Turpin’s Hill.  I’m sure they never thought at the time where that sled had come from, but they did later and it was a sweet and tender memory all of their lives.  Their big sister, LuRee had bought that sled for them.  She was teaching school at the time and had a little money so she was Santa Clause that year.  Both Grandpa and his brother Dale loved that sled and LuRee for caring about them so much.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

The spirit of Santa Clause is the spirit of love that comes from every child, every adult, every person who loves others and tries to make another’s life happier.  That love is light and that light comes from our Heavenly Father who loves us and wants us to love and help each other.  My wish is that all year long, but especially at this time of year when we celebrate the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ, each of us will remember that Christmas is truly about LOVE.  Let’s spread that love around.  Let’s keep Christ in Christmas and in our lives this year. 

I love you!  Merry Christmas!!

Great-Grandma Bateman

Christmas Letter - 2009

Christmas 2009

Dear,

It’s CHRISTMASTIME!  And it is a good time for remembering.  I want you to know that I remember you each day - you, my precious great-grandchild.  And I want you to know that the older I get the more precious my family, of which you are a part, is to me.

The older I get the more I enjoy sharing Christmas greetings with you.  The older I get the more I treasure the oldest ornaments and older ways, the more fondly I remember past Christmases, the more I enjoy giving rather than receiving, the more wondrously beautiful the Christmas story is, the deeper becomes my awe of things spiritual and eternal.  The older I get, the more I know that Father in Heaven and His Son, Jesus Christ, love each of us, and I want you to know I love them.

There’s a special warmth I feel at Christmastime for my family, whether you are near or far away.  Memories are more tender, feelings are closer to the surface and we put away many of our daily thoughts and turn toward those people and values that mean the most to us.  It is a time when we remember that every person on this earth is a child of God and we are kinder and more thoughtful.  These actions are in remembrance of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

I want to give you a gift, but I have no gift to give that I can wrap in a box.  And so I give you the gift of family and faith and love and heritage, and a story.  I have many stories, because the first Christmas I remember as a child, we still were using candles on the tree rather than electric lights. That’s how old I am!

Do you know where the twin traditions of not arising until 7:00 AM on Christmas morning and eating breakfast before going into the tree came from?  I will tell you.  When your grandpas and grandmas were young, your grandpas had to get up at 5:00 AM and go out and do chores and milk the cows.  That took until about 7:00 AM and when they were through, they were HUNGRY!  So, since the men needed to eat, I would prepare a scrumptious Christmas breakfast for all of the family and we would eat together when the men came from chores.  Then we did the dishes and lined up and marched into the living room to the tree, altogether.  I know that some of you still follow that tradition and I still think it is a good tradition, even if you are not milking cows in the morning.  It also cut down on the consumption of Christmas candy by the children!

When Great-Grandpa and I were young and the children so little, we had not very much money. In fact we had so little money that I would save things the children needed to give to them at Christmas.  I wanted them to feel like they got lots of presents so I would put each undershirt (Do you even know what that is?) in a separate box and wrap it with used paper and ribbon and make it look so pretty to put under the tree.  So if your grandmas and your mothers still wrap each little item separately, you now know why.  Times are better, but memories and traditions are good.

Love others, help others, build sweet memories. That is what Jesus would have us do.  That is our gift to Him.  I love each precious one of you.

Great-Grandma Bateman