I closed out November by taking a friend to Garden City to purchase a loblolly pine for her front yard, some boxwoods and pansies for her back yard. Jim went over the next day to plant the new arrivals and “pretty up” her surroundings when she looks out the windows. Then, as columnist Jo Northrop describes it,” December jingles in full of promise and parties, snowflakes and singing. The Yuletide calendar brims with work to be done and fun to be had” and folks are bustling everywhere shopping and wrapping, baking and decorating.

Gravette certainly brought in the season in a big way with all the activities on thefirst. I went to the craft fair at the Civic Center and bought a necklace made by a local man, then soon went on to my monthly quilt class where we received instruction on a quilt block and learned to make a perky little red cardinal from fabric yo-yos.

The annual parade was moved to evening and it seemed to be a popular change, as a good crowd lined the roadway for the event. I attended to see grandson A.J. marching with the band. My sister Nancy drove up and joined me and we went to the country music concert where we enjoyed the tunes, the free chili, hot chocolate and hot apple cider.

December is a month when everyone wants to have a party. We welcome the times to settle down from all the comings and goings and enjoy family and friends at a quiet meal. Tuesday of this week our library commission, library staff and volunteers plan a holiday dinner at the Senior Center, and their meals are always delicious. Friday we can greet friends at a local bank’s open house. Then next Thursday we’ll return to the Senior Center for J.G.T. Club meeting and another festive meal with club members and friends.

I have a clipping on the refrigerator with dates circled for the grandkids’ holiday programs and concert. I’ll try to make it to them all. The kids are really what the season is all about, and family traditions are designed to increase their pleasure.

One lady always makes hand-dipped candies for youngsters in the neighborhood. She packages them inattractive, “squatty-shaped” jars and tags each with a child’s name. When she presents the gift she says, “I’ll fill it again next year if you return the jar.” And, of course, the jars come back in short order, name tags intact, and the tradition goes on.

Others make gingerbread men for family and friends or bake and make up sampler plates of cakes and cookies for the neighbors.

I always get out my potpourri pot this time of year. Adorned with a variety of colorful mittens, it was a gift from my late brother Richard and his wife. Filled with fragrant cinnamon gel, it makes the kitchen smell as if you’re on a baking spree even when you’re not. I have a large pumpkin in the corner of the dining room, given to me by a friend when dismantling her fall display. She said I’d cautioned her not to waste anything and she was going to throw it out if I didn’t take it. I’ll bake it, scoop out thecooked pulp and package it in freezer boxes. It will provide the basic ingredient for several pies.

We received our first holiday card last Thursday, from dear friends who live on Stagecoach Road. That’s one of my favorite parts of the season, hearing from friends, family and former classmates now scattered far and wide.

Last year, only four months after Richard’s death and two months after we lost Mama, the messages were filled with sympathy and poignant reminders of past gatherings with loved ones. This year, perhaps, the greetings will be more upbeat. I’m looking forward to getting the latest news from some of my infrequent correspondents.

As we gather with friends and family, savoring the love and blessings we share and giving thanks for the bounty and beauty of the season, we should remember the many who are not so fortunate.Recently, I was browsing through one of my books, "Living on Less and Liking It More," and I was reminded that poverty is relative. The government sets a “poverty level” making those with lower incomes feel deprived, but our ancestors made do with much less and never considered themselves poor. If they had a roof over their heads, food on the table and a change or two of clothes, they felt fortunate. Lots of love helped warm them as much as a quilted jacket or a good pair of shoes.

When we compare our situation with living conditions a few generations ago or with those in Third World countries today, we are actually living in abundance.

Susan Holland is a longtime resident of Benton County and a staff member of the Westside Eagle Observer. She may be contacted by email at [email protected].

Opinion, Pages 6 on 12/12/2012