More Family Pics

These are more random photos of my dad through the years, particularly at special occasions.  He enjoyed seeing the little ones and playing with them when he could.  This is my cousin, Molly, on the left, and Chris on the right.  Daddy usually had a pipe in his mouth in these early photos, but he quit smoking by the 90’s.

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He enjoyed taking the family to Dornan’s, to the big teepees, for breakfast.

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I love this photo of my sister with Daddy, giggling over something.

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Holidays were always important to get together, when possible.

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These were taken years ago in Kansas City, and were probably taken shortly after “Mom,” my maternal grandmother, passed away from cancer.  Somebody left my mother’s head out of the scene accidentally!

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This would be my dad’s view at the same table — left to right — my grandma and grandpa Chaney, “Pop” (my mother’s dad), my mother, my sister, Robyn, and myself.

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Here are photos of my dad with his parents, Delia and Roy Chaney, with Robyn.

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This next one is odd because Robyn seems to be cut off; do you suppose she wasn’t cooperating?

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Here’s both of us with the Chaney grandparents; now who’s not cooperating? Why didn’t they cut me out?  Too much picture taking, but Grandma and Grandpa look great!

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Silent Night

Here are the lyrics to that beautiful hymn that was written (it is said) because the bellows of the organ had been destroyed by mice.  They needed something “silent” that could be performed with guitar rather than organ.  What a beautiful Christmas carol!

Silent night, holy night, All is calm, all is bright

Round yon virgin mother and child.  Holy infant so tender and mild,

Sleep in heavenly peace, Sleep in heavenly peace.

 

Silent night, holy night, Shepherds quake at the sight.

Glories stream from heaven afar, Heavenly hosts sing alleluia;

Christ, the Savior is born!  Christ, the Savior is born!

 

Silent night, holy night, Son of God, love’s pure light

Radiant beams from Thy holy face, With the dawn of redeeming grace,

Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth, Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.

–Joseph Mohr

 

Herald Angels

What do you suppose the word “herald” means?  Three things:

  1. An official messenger or representative of a monarch
  2. A forerunner, or person or thing that precedes or comes before
  3. A person or thing that proclaims or announces

Here is the hymn of the day:

Hark!  the herald angels sing, “Glory to the newborn King:

Peace on earth, and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled!”

Joyful, all ye nations, rise, Join the triumph of the skies;

With the angelic host proclaim, “Christ is born in Bethlehem!”

Hark!  the herald angels sing, “Glory to the newborn King.”

 

Christ, by highest heaven adored; Christ the everlasting Lord!

Late in time behold Him come, Offspring of the Virgin’s womb.

Veiled in flesh the Godhead see; Hail th’incarnate Deity,

Pleased as man with men to dwell, Jesus, our Emmanuel.

Hark! the herald angels sing, “Glory to the newborn King!”

 

Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace!  Hail the Sun of Righteousness!

Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in His wings.

Mild He lays His glory by, Born that man no more may die;

Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth.

Hark!  the herald angels sing, “Glory to the newborn King!”

–Charles Wesley

A Midnight Clear

This week I’m sharing some of my favorite Christmas hymn lyrics. Here is one of the beautiful ones we sing every year:

It came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old,

From angels bending near the earth to touch their harps of gold:

“Peace on the earth, goodwill to men, From heaven’s all-gracious King:”

The world in solemn stillness lay to hear the angels sing.

 

And ye, beneath life’s crushing load, whose forms are bending low,

Who toil along the  climbing way with painful steps and slow,

Look now! for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing:

O rest beside the weary load, and hear the angels sing.

 

For lo, the days are hastening on, by prophet seen of old,

When, with the ever circling years, shall come the time foretold,

When the new heaven and earth shall own the Prince of Peace their King,

And the whole world send back the song which now the angels sing.

–Edmund H. Sears

 

Now Thank We All Our God

Here is the third and final Thanksgiving hymn for this week.  Thank You Lord!

Now thank we all our God With hearts and hands and voices,

What wondrous things hath done, In whom His world rejoices;

Who, from the mothers’ arms, Hath blessed us on our way

With countless gifts of love, And still is ours today.

 

O may this bounteous God Through all our life be near us,

With ever joyful hearts And blessed peace to cheer us;

And keep us in His grace, And guide us when perplexed,

And free us from all ills In this world and the next.

 

All praise and thanks to God The Father now be given,

The Son, and Him who reigns With them in highest heaven,

The one eternal God, Whom earth and heaven adore;

For thus it was, is now, And shall be evermore.

Come, Ye Thankful People

Here are the lyrics of another famous Thanksgiving hymn.  I love this.

Come, ye thankful people, come, Raise the song of harvest home;

All is safely gathered in, Ere the winter storms begin:

God, our Maker, doth provide For our wants to be supplied;

Come To God’s own temple, come, Raise the song of harvest home.

 

All the world is God’s own field, Fruit unto His praise to yield;

Wheat and tares together sown, Unto joy or sorrows grown:

First the blade, and then the ear, Then the full corn shall appear;

Lord of harvest, grant that we Wholesome grain and pure may be.

 

For the Lord our God shall come And shall take His harvest home;

From His field shall in that day All offenses purge away,

Give His angels charge at last In the fire the tares to cast,

But the fruitful ears to store In His garner evermore.

 

Even so, Lord, quickly come To Thy final harvest home;

Gather Thou Thy people in, Free from sorrow, free from sin:

There forever purified, In Thy presence to abide;

Come, with all Thine angels, come, Raise the glorious harvest home.