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I have created this page for my family and friends in hopes of letting you all know how very special you are and how fortunate I am to have you in my life. To all of you from Marvelicious, I wish you the best that the season has to offer and the happiest of holidays.

This is a special note to My Parents Are Survivors members ~ to each of you I want to express my thanks for making our Support Group the best ever. We have all been through the single worst tragedy in our lives ~ the loss of a child. I am so fortunate to have met you all and am thankful daily for your friendship and love.

Happy New Year to my dear friends!

As we end the year of 1998
and enter into 1999...
Oh Lord, I'm thankful for each of you,
and how you help my life shine!

1998 has been a rough year,
as many of you know.
And, today, I can't help but wonder...
"Where did the time go?"

Time seems to pass so quickly
and sometimes takes our smiles.
But, because of friends such as you,
God spreads it across the miles.

I sit at my computer almost everyday
traveling north to south & east to west.
I've met some of the greatest people ever;
A fact that we all can attest!

So, as I sit here this morning writing...
I'm thinking of each of you today!
And praying that the Lord will reach down
and touch you in His special way!

For He knows that without your love,
I'd be just sitting here alone!
I still wonder how I ever survived,
before I each of you came along?

I'll never have the answers, my friends,
but God sends me the words.
To send to each of you in His way...
So His Voice can be heard.

Yes, we'll end the year today,
and begin the year 1999!
Wow, I am grateful to my Lord
that you are a friend of mine!

~Kaye Des'Ormeaux~
Copyright 1998
Dedicated to YOU, my dear friends!
December 31, 1998

Marvelicious Victorian Christmas Card

Wishing you old-fashioned pleasures,
heartwarming memories and the magic of Christmas
throughout the Holiday Season.


Christmas Poetry

Santa's Secret Wish

By Betty Werth

On Christmas Eve, a young boy with light in his eyes
Looked deep into Santa's, to Santa's surprise
And said as he sat on Santa's broad knee,
"I want your secret. Tell it to me."
He leaned up and whispered in Santa's good ear
"How do you do it, year after year?"
"I want to know how, as you travel about,
Giving gifts here and there, you never run out.
How is it, Dear Santa, that in your pack of toys
You have plenty for all of the world's girls and boys?
Stays so full, never empties, as you make your way
From rooftop to rooftop, to homes large and small,
From nation to nation, reaching them all?"
And Santa smiled kindly and said to the boy,
"Don't ask me hard questions. Don't you want a toy?"
But the child shook his head, and Santa could see
That he needed the answer. "Now listen to me,"
He told that small boy with the light in his eyes,
"My secret will make you sadder and wise.
"The truth is that my sack is magic. Inside
It holds millions of toys for my Christmas Eve ride.
But although I do visit each girl and each boy
I don't always leave them a gaily wrapped toy.
Some homes are hungry, some homes are sad,
Some homes are desperate, some homes are bad.
Some homes are broken, and the children there grieve.
Those homes I visit, but what should I leave?
"My sleigh is filled with the happiest stuff,
But for homes where despair lives toys aren't enough.
So I tiptoe in, kiss each girl and boy,
And I pray with them that they'll be given the joy
Of the spirit of Christmas, the spirit that lives
In the heart of the dear child who gets not, but gives.
"If only God hears me and answers my prayer,
When I visit next year, what I will find there
Are homes filled with peace, and with giving, and love
And boys and girls gifted with light from above.
It's a very hard task, my smart little brother,
To give toys to some, and to give prayers to others.
But the prayers are the best gifts, the best gifts indeed,
For God has a way of meeting each need.
"That's part of the answer. The rest, my dear youth,
Is that my sack is magic. And that is the truth.
In my sack I carry on Christmas Eve day
More love than a Santa could e`er give away.
The sack never empties of love, or of joys
`Cause inside it are prayers, and hope. Not just toys.
The more that I give, the fuller it seems,
Because giving is my way of fulfilling dreams.
"And do you know something? You've got a sack, too.
It's as magic as mine, and it's inside of you.
It never gets empty, it's full from the start.
It's the center of lights, and love. It's your heart.
And if on this Christmas you want to help me,
Don't be so concerned with the gifts `neath your tree.
Open that sack called your heart, and share
Your joy, your friendship, your wealth, your care."
The light in the small boy's eyes was glowing.
"Thanks for your secret. I've got to be going."
"Wait, little boy," Said Santa, "don't go.
Will you share? Will you help? Will you use what you know?"
And just for a moment the small boy stood still,
Touched his heart with his small hand and whispered, "I will."

Going Home For Christmas

By Edgar Guest

He little knew the sorrow that was in his vacant chair;
He never guessed they'd miss him, or he'd surely have been there;
He couldn't see his mother or the lump that filled her throat,
Or the tears that started falling as she read his hasty note;
And he couldn't see his father, sitting sorrowful and dumb,
Or he never would have written that he thought he couldn't come.

He little knew the gladness that his presence would have made,
And the joy it would have given, or he never would have stayed.
He didn't know how hungry had the little mother grown
Once again to see her baby and to claim him for her own.
He didn't guess the meaning of his visit Christmas Day
Or he never would have written that he couldn't get away.

He couldn't see the fading of the cheeks that once were pink,
And the silver in the tresses; and he didn't stop to think
How the years are passing swiftly, and next Christmas it might be
There would be no home to visit and no mother dear to see.
He didn't think about it -- I'll not say he didn't care.
He was heedless and forgetful or he'd surely have been there.

Are you going home for Christmas? Have you written you'll be there?
Going home to kiss the mother and to show her that you care?
Going home to greet the father in a way to make him glad?
If you're not I hope there'll never come a time you'll wish you had.
Just sit down and write a letter -- it will make their heart strings hum
With a tune of perfect gladness -- if you'll tell them that you'll come.


Twas The Night Before Christmas

It was the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads;
And Mama in her kerchief and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his reindeer they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer!, Now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid!, On, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the housetop the reindeer they flew,
With a sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas, too.

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing of reindeer and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had fling on his back,
and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk,
And laying a finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
" Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

By Clement Clarke Moore


Twas The Computer Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a computer was stirring, not even a mouse.
The hard drives were left on in each computer case
With a database for Santa, punched up in dBase.

The hackers were all snug asleep in their beds,
While visions of access codes danced in their heads.
And I with my pc and Ma with her Mac,
Had settled in for a long winter's nap.

When up from my modem there arose such a squeal,
I jumped from my bed and said, "What's the deal!!?!?"
To my computer I tore like a flash,
Hoping I wasn't suffering a Christmas Eve Crash.
A flashing green light on the front of my case,
Showed late-night activity (I hope not erase).
I turned on my monitor and what did appear,
But a .gif old sleigh and eight blinking reindeer.

On a flashing bright icon I made a quick click,
And sure enough who appeared, but good old Saint Nick.
At 9600 baud the images they came,
As he loaded them up, he called them by name.

"Load Windows and Lotus, Prodigy and Quicken,
Add brand new "Dos" upgrades, and games for the children.
To the old root directory, to make room for them all,
How about a new hard drive, this one's all full!

As I watched as he worked through the database with care,
Checking the gift list we had left there.
He searched into his bag and pulled out with aplomb,
Bright shiny new discs for the new "cd-rom".

A brand new fax-modem (well, who asked for that!?!?),
Bundles of "Simms", co-processors galore,
From one board to another, he filled up each hole.

And when he was finished, the tower cases were full,
With fun new software, just ready to install.
Then lining the cursor alongside of his nose,
Out of my new "Svga", up slowly he rose.

He jumped out of "Dosshell", my soundblaster did sound,
As he "Tsr" fell away, 'til next Christmas comes around,
Then I heard him exclaim as he up-loaded from sight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good byte!!


Twas The Internet Night Before Christmas

A festive holiday poem by Hugh Drumm & Vincent Ambrose

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Net,
There were hacker's a surfing. Nerds? Yeah, you bet.
The e-mails were stacked by the modem with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The newbies were nestled all snug by their screens,
While visions of Java danced in their dreams.
My wife on the sofa and me with a snack,
We just settled down at my rig (it's a Mac).

When out in the Web there arose such a clatter,
I jumped to the site to see what was the matter.
To a new page my Mac flew like a flash,
Then made a slight gurgle. It started to crash!!

I gasped at the thought and started to grouse,
Then turned my head sideways and clicked on my mouse.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
My Mac jumped to a page that wasn't quite clear.

When the image resolved, so bright and so quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!
More rapid than mainframes, more graphics they came,
Then Nick glanced toward my screen, my Mac called them by name;

"Now Compaq! Now Acer!", my speaker did reel;
"On Apple! On Gateway!" Santa started to squeal!
"Jump onto the circuits! And into the chip!
Now speed it up! Speed it up! Make this thing hip!"

The screen gave a flicker, he was into my "Ram",
Then into my room rose a full hologram!
He was dressed in all red, from his head to his shoes,
Which were black (the white socks he really should lose).

He pulled out some discs he had stored in his backpack.
Santa looked like a dude who was rarin' to hack!
His eyes, how they twinkled! His glasses, how techno!
This ain't the same Santa that I used to know!

With a wink of his eye and a nod of his head,
Santa soon let me know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, gave my Mac a quick poke,
And accessed my C drive with only a stroke.

He defragged my hard drive, and added a "Dimm",
Then threw in some cool games, just on a whim!
He worked without noise, his fingers they flew!
He distorted some pictures with Kai's Power Goo!

He updated Office, Excel and Quicken,
Then added a screensaver with a red clucking chicken!
My eyes widened a bit, my mouth stood agape,
As he added the latest version of Netscape.

The drive gave a whirl, as if it were pleased,
St. Nick coyly smiled, the computer appeased.
Then placing his finger on the bridge of his nose,
Santa turned into nothing but ones and zeros!

He flew back into my screen and through my uplink,
Back into the net with barely a blink.
But I heard his sweet voice as he flew from my sight,
"Happy surfing to all, and to all a good byte!"

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Changes last made on: Tue Jul 22, 2003