Beech Tree News Network

About the third week of December, there was a meme making its way around the internet that stated:

STOP TRACKING THAT PACKAGE, IT’S IN GOD’S HANDS NOW. At the time, I could completely identify with that meme on two counts: 1. I mailed a package to my niece on December 9th that still hadn’t arrived on December 18th (My niece lives in Bardstown, a 90 minute drive from my house.) and 2. My sister, Marsha, mailed a package to me on December 8th that still hadn’t arrived on December 21st  (My sister lives in Owensboro, a one-hour drive from my house.)  Before I continue with this narrative, I want to say that we in Butler County have a first-rate postal service, with mail carriers who make multiple trips per day in order to deliver our mail and packages.  I have several friends who are mail carriers, and I in no way want to disparage them or the work they do.  

With that said, I was not happy about my niece’s Christmas package making its rounds to every mail center between here and Nashville.  My niece and her husband have three young children, they both work very demanding jobs and struggle to keep their lives afloat.  I try to send a little extra to her family each year just to let them know they have someone in their corner.  I tracked her package to a mail center in Nashville on December 19th. I called her and told her if I had to run down the package myself and deliver it in a hazmat suit, her kids would get their presents from Aunt Cheryl.  Luckily for me, the package arrived on December 21…glad I paid extra for Priority Mail.

As for my package from Marsha, it still hadn’t arrived on December 21st.  Marsha always gives me a large mug of candy Kisses for Christmas.  It has become a tradition that my granddaughter and I select a movie after the Kisses arrive then eat the entire mug-full together while we watch the movie. Marsha called on December 21st to remind me to go outside that night so I could see the Christmas Star—the conjunction of the planets Jupiter and Saturn.  I told her the package still had not arrived.  

“Maybe, it’s like those socks without mates that Erma Bombeck told her kids went home to be with Jesus,” Marsha said.  “Look extra close at the Christmas star tonight, you might be able to spot them.”  

“If they did, I hope He gives them back,” I said, “I want my Kisses.”

As I write this, it is December 27th, and still no package.  I guess, Jesus decided to keep them.

I know I’m not the only one with a missing package this year.  My son-in-law drives for FedEx, and he was approached by a postal worker in Guthrie, who came across a FedEx ground package that had arrived on one of their mail trucks.  He was unable to help the postal employee, because the package was addressed to Las Vegas, and it’s a bit off his route.  That’s probably where my Kisses are—Las Vegas.

When I got ready to call my extended family members on Christmas morning, I was in the same boat with the rest of you who tried to call your family members on Christmas morning.  None of us could get through because of the bombing of the AT&T building in Nashville.  It is a testament to the way this entire year has gone that the incident came as no real shock to any of us watching the news.  I am so thankful to the quick-acting first responders that none of the people who lived nearby were killed.

I am thankful we have a vaccine against the Covid virus.  I am thankful that, as of right now, all my family is well.  I am thankful that I have food and shelter and a warm fire in my fireplace.  I am thankful that I live in America.  But the thing I am most thankful for this year is that in less than a week, 2020 will come to a close.  2021 has got to be better!