A word from Joan…. See new
story below and STAY TUNED:
Hello,
friends. Some of you are wondering what happened to the
Story of the (Every Other) Week, which has been running
here on the WhereAngelsWalk website---and has been sent to
you regularly---since 2002. Unfortunately I have had to
close down the mailing list. This is not because it is
becoming too expensive to mail thousands of
people---that’s a cost I’ve gladly born in order to bring
encouragement and goose-bumpy stories to all of you.
No, someone out there complained to the people who run our
mailing program that I had sent spam (which I would never
do---actually I’m still so inept on the computer that I
honestly wouldn’t know how to send it). This caused the
mailing program people to get us all upset with threats,
blackballing etc. Frankly, I’m glad they care about
spammers. It’s just that I never was one, and at this
stage of my life, I don’t need the aggravation that comes
with being falsely accused. This site has had its share of
attacks, probably due to the spiritual content, so this
isn’t surprising. So here’s what’s
happening now:
Since this website no longer has a mailing program, I
can’t send this announcement (or any other) to you; I have
to just post it here on my site, and hope that you
eventually visit the site to find out why you didn’t
receive the story. I WILL be posting an occasional new
story on the Story of the (Every Other) Week page, just as
is done now. It simply won’t be mailed to you. You have to
come and get it! (I will continue to post news of JoAnn
Cayce, the Christmas toy collection and other topics of
interest.)
I have already developed a home page devoted to angels and
miracles on another website. It’s called Beliefnet, and
is the largest religious website in the world. They
feature tons of people from all religions, offer
interesting articles (sometimes a little New Age-y but
they are open to all) and---for our purposes---a chance to
stay in touch. Here’s how:
http://community.beliefnet.com/whereangelswalk
You’ll see a photo of me and the way to become a member of
Beliefnet. THis should be a temporary measure
because I do hope to soon have a new mailing
program, and we can return to the way we did it before.
Keep checking right here. And
thanks for your love and loyalty through the years.
- Joan Wester Anderson
joan@joanwanderson.com
When newly-wed Joan Clayton, of
Portales, New Mexico, suggested to
her husband Emmitt that they plant
a small cedar tree in front of
their new house, he was doubtful.
Their house was on a corner lot
and the tree might not survive
either the traffic or the weather,
he pointed out. But as they both
stood gazing at a little sapling
at a nearby nursery, Joan felt
certain that it was meant for
them. “I’ll call it my ‘blessings
tree’,” she announced, “and it
will grow strong and tall, and
reach up to heaven. Everyone who
passes it will be blessed too.”
Emmitt smiled. His bride got a bit
carried away now and then, but he
supposed there wouldn’t be much
harm in planting it. He waved to
the salesman, who came over to
help. “My name is John,” he said,
shaking Emmitt’s hand. “That’s a
sturdy little tree, but I can’t
lift it for you.”
“That’s okay.” Emmitt lifted the
five gallon bucket, swung it into
the pickup and paid John. As they
pulled away, John waved. “It’s a
blessed little treeeeeee,” they
heard him call. Hadn’t Joan said
that very thing? Now she looked
at Emmitt. “We can put lights on
it for Christmas,” she said.
“Lights?” Emmitt, the practical
one, objected right away. “We’re
not having lights on that tree!
What a waste of money. Besides,
it would run up the electricity
bill.”
Joan sighed. She had already
discovered that, although his
virtues were many, her groom was a
bit…conservative financially. But
she would say no more. They had
the tree, and that was enough for
now.
“We planted the tree in our island
in front of our house for all to
see,” says Joan. “And as the years
went by, I watched it grow. Heat
in the summer, freezing
temperatures in winter and
wind-storms year around pelted my
blessing tree. I had storms too.
Our three lively little boys had
accidents and illnesses but like
my tree, they survived with
strength and wonder.”
There was just one
difficulty: Emmitt refused to put
lights on the tree. “It would
just be a waste of money,” he
often said, as Christmas
approached. First, Joan prayed
about it, hoping to see him change
his mind. Later, she resigned
herself. The tree would not have
lights on it, after all. But it
had been a gift to their family
anyway. Emmitt had had five major
surgeries during those years and
he, like the tree, stood tall with
perseverance and stamina. Fierce
winds of adversity had blown
branches this way and that. Yet
the tree---and the family---
persisted. “Blow, wind, blow,”
Joan often thought. “But we will
still be here when the storm is
over!” If her tree could make it
through the difficulties of life,
so could she. The boys grew up,
and so did the cedar tree, almost
twelve feet tall by now. “That
tree is too tall to put lights on,
anyway.” Emmitt pointed out as
Christmas approached. Joan said
nothing at all. It was time to
accept his decision and let it
go. But that night, while praying
in bed, Joan sighed. “Lord,” she
whispered, “it would have been so
nice if Emmitt had said, ‘Honey,
don’t fret about it. We’ll get
someone to put lights on that tree
tomorrow.’” But she had never
heard him say those words, and now
she knew she never would.
Five minutes later, Emmitt turned
over in bed. “Honey,” he
whispered in Joan’s ear, “don’t
fret about it. We’ll get someone
to put lights on that tree
tomorrow.” Joan could hardly
believe her ears. Emmitt had said
the exact words to her that she
had said to the Lord. And the
next day she burst into tears when
she overheard him talking to the
garden nursery man. “I don’t care
what it costs,” he said. “I want
you to make that tree beautiful
for my wife.”
All through that Christmas season
Joan’s tree blessed everyone that
passed by. It glowed with a
special light, she thought, the
light of unselfishness and
sacrifice. Emmitt had always been
taking care of her, she realized,
with his concern for finances and
raising his family. The tree
lights were just another way of
saying the same thing: “I love
you.”
It was a wonderful Christmas, made
even more special by the actions
of two men. Emmitt, and Jesus.
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