Hintz's Family Service Project 2013 - Operation Christmas Child

Boxes for 2 little girls

Nora helping to choose a coloring book

Every Christmas for the last 3 years we have participated in a project
called "Operation Christmas Child." We fill boxes with toys and
toiletries and ship it off to a child in need. It has been an absolute
joy!

This year, Annabelle was at a wonderful age to understand and pick
things out herself. Nora, though she didn't understand, helped make
decisions.

Before leaving for the store, we had Annabelle watch 2 different
videos explaining what it is that we were participating in. She had
also learned a bit about it in Connectionland (her Sunday school). She
was very excited to pick out lots of girly things.

And boy did she. Some little girl is going to have an exploding heart
when she sees all the pink and girly things in her box. The sweetest
thing was when Annabelle insisted that both little girls have a
"blankie".

Picking out a baby to send along

Beauty

Coloring her picture

We came home and packed their boxes to overflowing. The girls then
colored pictures and Annabelle got to fill out a little worksheet with
information about herself to send to her "new friend". We then spent a
short moment praying for each of these little girls. It was an
unbelievably sweet moment.

Packing the boxes

Annabelle's favorites!

Box full of pink

Annabelle's completed picture

Nora's completed picture

Little sweetness praying for her "new friend"

We then chose to donate our shipping fees online so that we could see
where our boxes will end up. I look forward to explaining to the girls
where their boxes went. Annabelle was excited for a little girl who
might not get Christmas presents, to get Christmas presents.

It may not be much, but two little girls the ages of our little girls,
will know that someone in this world cares about them. We will
continue to pray for them this Christmas season. Annabelle may even
receive a letter back from her little girl.

And hopefully our girls, through this and other experiences, will
understand giving and service and humility.

Christmas note

The following is a note that Aunt Laurie found in her stash recently and gave out copies at the mass that was said for Grandma a few weekends ago. It seems that Grandma wrote it after Christmas one year when Jerry and Patrick were little.

____________________________

This business of words whether written or said,
is not very simple and they're stuffed in my head.

If I want them to do a good job and make clear,
our feelings and thoughts for the ones we hold dear.

I'll take time and weigh carefully each one, every word,
and make sure they're the ones that I want to be heard.

"Our Christmas was Great," says this pair of antiques,
this couple of sixties, whose joints always squeak.

Our dreams are much different more different each day,
"you'll know when your older," grown up all the way.

Telephones shared and trying some way,
to bring others home if for only one day.

Boomerangs, beer mugs, and trillions of toy and out in
the snow two rosy cheeked boys.

My annual heart to heart chat with our Chris,
Bob's box of goodies, some cheddar some swiss.

Our guest who's much taller, now looking back,
who must love us a lot cause she always comes back.

A whoop and a holler from the game watching guys,
some singing, some jigging, some tears in our eyes.

And a new Mrs. Santa, charmed the room as she sat,
and Santa got taller instead of more fat.

Vision of sugar plums are no longer needed,
Our Garden of Dreams is now thoroughly weeded.

Thanks for our Christmas, you loved ones where ever,
From a couple old elves who'll love you forever!

Love, Mom + Dad

Visiting Grandpa

Hours and hours of political news shows and the conversation is bound to come up.

See Annabelle and I just returned from a whirlwind trip to see Grandpa. A few highlights? Grandpa sitting on the floor with Annabelle multiple times even though he knew it was difficult for him to get back up. When I offered to help him, he said "when I can no longer get up from the floor by myself, I won't get down there." And I always forget about his sweet tooth. I doubt the muffins I left will make it past tomorrow (maybe because he kept calling them cupcakes, which would give anyone reason to eat them at any time of day).

My visits with Grandpa are never filled with lots of things to do, but good ol' fashioned relaxing. He talked about how much he looks forward to summer, Patrick getting married next summer, how proud he is at the success of each of his children, and always a little about Grandma.

But today, there was plenty of political news to keep us interested. Wisconsin is in the middle of serious political turmoil, and grandpa and I are not on the same team. We talked about Muslim radicals, and how he says he's seen every new ethnic group in America go through the scrutiny. First the Italians, then the Irish, and so on. He has a strong dislike for Lindsay Lohan. And he admitted he watched Fox news because the women on that channel are the most attractive.

He then pondered aloud how these women could be so beautiful AND smart. I left that one alone.

And then he brought up social security and Medicare. Things I truly haven't thought that much about. But his ability to articulate the issue was uncanny and I took the time to put aside any small thoughts I might have and just listen. We may not always agree, but, to be entirely honest, he is probably more educated and wise on so many of these topics.

anniversary

it seems odd to honor the anniversary of someone's death. grandma would probably think i was nuts. but as i looked back over the several posts made here around her death, i sit back and reminisce. she was a great friend. a friend i could use more than ever now.

she would have loved her. my annabelle. they would have been fast friends, even at the age of 8 months. it seems silly to somehow think about it, but it's true. i can almost picture them together. before she was born, grandma would have taken me to the yarn store to pick out yarn to make something cozy for her. then we would have gone to the italian coffee shop down the street, or for burgers at Fred's. and when annabelle was born, she would have kissed her little face and talked to her and told her how loved she was. and then we would have gone to love inc and picked out some things for her, while grandma introduced her to every person she had ever known, and even to people she didn't. i don't know how, but some way i will impart that love on my daughter.

i have an incredible legacy of women. my grandmother was the most uniquely loving person i know. she made everyone feel special and different and lovely. my mother is the most giving and wise woman i know. i trust her more than any other person, and rest comfortably in her words and love.

may i be that woman. myself, and yet with the beautiful characteristics of the women who have paved the way before me. and though i've said it before, it is worth repeating. annabelle is the most blessed little girl to have these women go before her.

Remembered favorite story

It wasn't long before Grandma was diagnosed that I remember sitting in the painting room and her telling me this story.

She had some paintings hanging in the gallery in Lake Geneva and was pretty excited when a doctor from Chicago saw her work, loved it, and asked to buy several pieces. She was elated (as we all know that Grandma loved the praise of her work). She quickly informed us all of this great news... she was finally finding the success she longed for. After figuring out how to show him the pieces and have them delivered to him, she ran into a friend.

This friend was excited too, she had just bought a piece of original Julie Carpenter artwork. Wow, now Grandma was flying high, but she was curious as to where this friend had found her work. The friend answered back... "I got it at Goodwill for only a few dollars!".

Grandma told me this through laughter... she truly believed that this was God's way of knocking her off the little pedastal she had built for herself.

I am grateful that she was so honest with me about her successes and her failures. This is something I see in the people she raised also. My mom is a prime example of someone who never tries to pretend that she doesn't make mistakes. One of the best lessons I could ever learn. Even though I don't have children, my mom and my grandma both taught me that inevitably I will make mistakes as a mother, and big ones, but that everyone does.

Cleaning out a closet

Today, as I was cleaning out a closet and lots of old papers, I found a few emails Grandma had written to me while I was in college. Some are even stories of her growing up. I thought it my duty to compile them on here so you could share in the stories with me.

4/18/99
Subject: Nothing special

Aha!! I now have someone that is interested in me and my life. You may be sorry you asked me to tell you about myself. I remembered something last week and decided I would tell you about it. When I was a little girl, we lived in the country. We were also very poor and I do not recall having toys. I had things I played with, crayons and a coloring book (that was a big day) but nothing I could class as a toy. Hard to believe, I'm sure, but true none the less. I did have one thing that many children growing up do not have, then or now. I had a cherry tree of my very own.
Me and my cherry tree spent many hours together, mostly in the summer. I learned to hang upside down by my knees and gradually from the tops of my feet. In that tree I became a circus performer, could see the neighbors house from the top, could see my Dad coming home from work (we had no car so he walked), could see my brothers and sisters coming from where ever. Under that tree my Dad put a ring of rocks and in the center he would build a fire at night. My favorite thing. He sat on the ground too. My brothers went to war and my sister married a sailor and left so my Dad and I spent the best part of the summers under the tree waiting for all of them to return.
We cooked anything my Mom would let us have. Mostly potatoes. We just put them in the coals and then when they were done, we rolled them out, waited until they were cool, broke them in half, added a little salt and oh my, the were the best.
The cherry tree always had plenty of fresh branches I could use for cooking, that's when we had stuff that you needed a stick for. Then I grew up a little and everyone came home form the war. Things were just different, I was different and they were different but the old cherry tree just stayed the same. Love, Grandma C.



Subject: Another tidbit from the book of Julie
5/14/99

I'm sitting at the computer with the window beside me open and the fresh evening air coming in. God is good.
During my growing up years, I really never realized how much my Dad knew. It seemed as though what he knew was so unimportant. What I considered important, he knew nothing of or at least made me believe he didn't.
At the time when my brothers were in the service during WWII and all over the world, my Dad had no one to go hunting with. Yes, we had guns in the house and the ammunition and yes, I knew how to shoot them. My sister was gone as she had married a sailor. I was therefore the only one left at home.
I think out of his sadness, he decided that I could go hunting with him to keep him company. He walked faster than I and I struggled to keep up. We hunted mostly in an area called Stratford Woods, a nice hike fro my own back yard. While we walked along, he had a keen eye for asparagus that grew in the early spring in Stratford Woods. You have to watch close or you won't see it. He would take out his pocket knife and cut enough for a large meal (always seemed to have a bag in his pocket ). We really didn't catch any pheasants or rabbits but we had a great walk. Personally, I thought I was a big shot. I wanted desperately to be loved by my Dad.
In the same woods, he took me hunting for mushrooms. When we came home, my Mom would put them to cook with a dime (yes 10 cents) in the water. If the dime turned black, we did not eat the mushrooms.
The early spring also meant dandelions. If you dig them before they bloom, the make the best salad in the world.
He also would resole out shoes. My grandfather worked as a millwright (leather worker) and he would bring sheets of leather out and my Dad would resole shoes by slipping them on an iron shoe form and cutting out around the shoe. He would then tack and glue. We definitely did not go barefoot.
We made our own root beer, sauerkraut and grew our own popcorn. Speaking of popcorn, one year a man gave my Dad a whole sack of corn seed. When you go anything free you made something of it. Nothing was thrown away. My Dad planted the whole sack thinking it was regular sweet corn. The whole field was popcorn. Boy was he mad. We shucked (someday I'll show you what that is) until my hands almost fell off. We kidded him for a long time. He did not like to hear it. Enough of this story. Amen. Love GC
Also, are you at all familiar with Lutheran Social Services. They do an incredible job. They have several offices in Wisconsin. Madison in particular. Maybe you should be a social worker?



Subj: Massive Apology
8/27/99
My dearest darlingest Katie,
I have been ignoring you all summer. I believe that since you were not at school, I could not email you. Sooooooo, I'm sorry. I plan on downloading all the emails I received and sent that you may be interested in... little by little.
My story for the day to you about me as a child is: ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL.

My brothers and sisters and I went to a very small country school whose teachers were Servite Nuns (an Italian order) very strict but good teachers. Our home was way out in the country so we had to walk to school (about 1 1/2 to 2 miles ). It really wasn't bad because all the kids that went there had to walk. Very few people in my home town had cars, certainly not us, we had enough trouble keeping food on the table.

Not far from the school, St. Domitilla's was a servite Seminary (like a college for priests). We had no church of our own so we went to church at the seminary. Just can't think of the name at the moment. I remember the smell, like flak soap, and also the beautiful marble floors. Always very clean with candles burning and nice and warm inside. I loved it there. The seminarians attended mass up above the alter where there were massive arches to look through. They would sing the hymns for mass in what is known as Gregorian chant. I think not long ago someone put out a CD of it. I loved the listen to them. The written music is done with squares, not ovals and as I recall there were only 4 lines, not five. Very different.
Since I was the youngest of 6, my brother who was 8 years older was my caretaker (or whatever) on the way to and from school. Well!!! after we got out of sight of our house, he made me walk way behind so that I couldn't hear what he and his friends were talking about. But I heard anyway. It was GIRLS!!!!
We carried lunches wrapped in newspaper as we could not afford bags. I was always jealous of the kids with the nice neat bologna in the sandwiches and the neat twinkies, while we carried roast beef on lumpy homemade bread and the old sloppy homemade from scratch apple pie. I guess its all a matter of how you look at things!!!!
Well enough for that story. I'll try and remember the name of the seminary. Love you very much my Kate. Grandma C.
Just remember, Mater Dolorosa. Kind of Italian would you say, especially since most of the people in town were Irish, O'Shaunessy, Dwyer, Murray, O'Brien, Coleman, O'Rourke, etc.


Subject: RE: Massive Apology
9/7/99

I think my next story will be what I experienced when WWII started. I must have been about 8 or 9. Things certainly changed very quickly, it seemed like overnight. Actually, it was. On the evening of December 7th, a Sunday, I was sitting at the table in our dining room doing my homework. I twas evening and we had had our Sunday dinner. We were all listening to the radio, a small one on the top of a table in our dining room. My Dad was reading the Sunday paper, he used to rad i cover to cover every day. We had the programs on that everyone listen to, the Burns and Allen Show, The Shadow, Jack Benny, etc. Very suddenly, there was a break in the programming to announce a bulletin. The announcer said that the Japanese air force had bombed Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. There was no forewarning, we were not even having a problem with them, at least the general public knew nothing about it. We were at peace, recovering form the depression, our military was at its lowest, and the population was lulled into believing we had already com through the worst of times.
I recall my Father looking at my Mother and neither knowing what to say or think. The whole thing was pretty unreal as though you didn't hear it right, you needed it repeated.
It was a turning point in my life and in the lives of everyone in my family. We were never the same.
More later. Love GC

Julie Carpenter Memorial Art Show

Julie Carpenter Memorial Art Show
The late Julie Carpenter, a remarkably talented Burlington artist, will be remembered by fellow artists with a memorial art show for the public on Saturday and Sunday, Dec. 6 and 7. The show will be in the Riverbirch Gallery, 7231 McHenry St., Burlington, next to the Bohners Lake fire station. Hours on Saturday are 1 to 5 p.m., and Sunday from 1 to 4 p.m.
Carpenter’s family has generously offered to display some of Julie’s watercolor prints in the show. Paintings by her friends from The Gatherings will also be on display. A percentage of any sales will go into a newly established fund to support art in the community, a project Julie would surely approve.
Carpenter was an advocate for the arts in Burlington. She worked tirelessly for Love Inc. and for the Burlington Area Arts Council. She organized some of her artist friends to paint together weekly. The group is known as The Gathering. Julie was their mentor. She shared her artistic knowledge with them by demonstrating new techniques and by helping them to become better artists through the critiques at the end of each painting session. She presented an annual art show benefit for Love, Inc., using art work by members of The Gathering, but she always remained behind the scenes and refused to take credit for her work.
It was not Julie’s way to brag of her accomplishments, but she held a degree from DePaul University and had had a successful career in banking before she retired and began painting seriously. She studied under some very fine artists, and her paintings were displayed in the Schauer Center for Visual and Performing Arts, Hartford, and in Kenosha at the Anderson Art Center, and well as locally. One of her works hangs in the Sinai Samaritan Hospital women’s cancer unit.
Carpenter was inspired by nature and she liked to use minimum control of the paint and water as they flowed across the paper. She considered her winter scenes her best, but her friends agree that her flowers were spectacular.
This lovely lady continued to paint with her friends until her illness made it impossible, but she left her mark on this community. Those who own a Julie Carpenter painting cherish her and her creative art work.