The fifth installment in the 12 Pearls of Christmas series is by one of my favorite Christian fiction authors, Melody Carlson. Read here about how a young mother learned to embrace her own Christmas traditions—and how they’re a constantly evolving process.

There’s No Place Like….
by Melody Carlson

I grew up spending Christmases at my grandparents’ quaint Victorian home, surrounded by lots of relatives, laughter and love and really good food. For a little girl growing up in a single parent home, harried working mother, no church family, and TV dinners, these extended family holidays spent at my grandparents were like a real gift from God. But as a young adult, my grandfather passed on, the old house was sold, I grew up and eventually had a small family of my own.
   
Still I longed for those familiar kinds of “big” Christmases—I wanted that house full of relatives and fun times to go home to—I think the “child” in me thought I deserved it somehow. But my grandmother had gotten older and lived in a tiny apartment, and my mother and my husband’s parents were not comfortable hosting Christmas in their homes. For a while we went to my cousin’s, but I soon had to come to grips with reality. The days of going to Grandma’s for the perfect Christmas were a thing of the past.

In other words, it was time for me to grow up—time for me to start hosting our own Christmas celebrations. So biting the holiday bullet, I decided to just do it. With two very small children underfoot, I cooked my first turkey, made my first stuffing, invited some family, neighbors, and friends over, and we all crammed ourselves into our little house, balanced our plates on our knees, and had a very good time. Oh, I’m sure the turkey was dry and the gravy lumpy, but what I remember most is that everyone seemed truly happy to be there. And I realized that I wasn’t the only one longing for that sense of warmth and community—that longing to “go home again”—and I finally grasped that I could (with God’s grace) help to provide that for my family and others.
   
So for the next three decades we continued to host Christmas in our home. I got better at decorating, cooking, gifting…the works. Some years the place would be packed and crazy. A few years were thinner and quieter. But family, friends and neighbors could always count on the fact that the Carlson’s would be “doing something for Christmas.” It was a no-brainer.
   
Until this year. This year, for the first time in more than thirty years, my husband and I decided we’re going to take a pass on hosting Christmas—we are going to the beach. At first I felt terribly guilty, and even right now I’m a bit unsure—and wonder if I’ll end up changing my mind at the last minute. And yet, I believe it’s the right thing for us to do—for a lot of reasons. One being that my husband’s birthday is Christmas and he never gets to do what he wants on his birthday—this year will be different. But more than that, I hope that our stepping aside will encourage the younger members of our family to find and embrace some of their own traditions—to grow up and look for opportunities to stretch themselves a bit. Because, similar to how an oyster creates a pearl—or how a young mom learns to be a hostess—with some discomfort and distress of burnt turkeys, the end results are truly valuable.

About Melody: Melody Carlson lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and yellow Labrador Retriever. She’s the author of around 200 books including this year’s Christmas novella, Christmas at Harrington’s.Visit her website for more information, www.melodycarlson.com.

A three strand pearl necklace will be given away on New Year’s Day. All you need to do to have a chance of winning is {FILL OUT THIS QUICK ENTRY FORM}. The winner will be announced on the Pearl Girls Blog (http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com) on New Years Day!

12 Pearls of Christmas Series and contest sponsored by Pearl Girls®. For more information, please visit www.pearlgirls.info

Here’s another story in the 12 Pearls of Christmas series. Today, a mother of three teenage sons writes about how she found unexpected joy even when money was tight during the Christmas season.

The Joy of Unexpected Circumstances
by Lori Kasbeer

The Christmas season is upon us again. Starbucks is selling their Christmas blend; stores are posting their holiday hours; and moms everywhere are making a list and checking it twice, planning for a special Christmas day. It has been our family’s tradition to spend Christmas with relatives.  Last year money was tight and we were unable to travel. This is not how we had planned to spend Christmas day, but circumstances were beyond our control. Realizing my three boys–who are now teenagers–will not be under our roof for much longer, I wanted to have a special Christmas with just the five of us.  

Leading up to Christmas morning we all made mouth-watering, cinnamon cut-out cookies, spent time together sticking tape everywhere while trying to wrap presents, and enjoyed spending time together.  We did not have much money, but were having fun making memories.  When Christmas morning arrived and we sat around to open gifts my eyes welled up with overwhelming joy.  This mother was trying to absorb all the activity that was going on all around her: the smiles from each of my teenage boys, the sounds of laughter, and the smell of cinnamon rolls cooking in the oven.  If I could freeze a moment in time, this would be it.  I don’t know what the future holds for each of my boys, but that Christmas morning I wanted to soak it all in so I could recall this special day for years to come.  Despite struggling financially, unexpected circumstances turned into immense joy and a lifetime of memories.

Mothers treasuring special moments is not something new.  Mary, mother of Jesus Christ, was one who tried to soak in everything that first Christmas morning.  Even after Christ’s birth she was still trying to absorb what the angel had said to her when he delivered the news that she was going to be the mother of the coming Savior.  She reflected on the time she had with her cousin Elizabeth while they were both pregnant.  Along with comprehending the unusual way her son came into this world. 

While very pregnant with child, Mary and Joseph traveled from Nazareth to Bethlehem to register Mary for the census.  Never did she imagine she would deliver her baby in a barn with a manger being the only thing to lay him down in.  These were not the circumstances she had envisioned.  Before she had time to catch her breath, suddenly all around her there was excitement when shepherds showed up reporting what they had seen and heard.  There were angels—a multitude of angels—who were singing and declaring the Savior was born and a bright star led them to her and Joseph.    So much had happened in a short amount of time, and Mary did not want to forget any of it.  Instead she stepped back and “treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.” (Luke 2:19)

Mary did not exactly know what the plans were for her son, but she knew it was going to change the lives of everyone on earth.  She was preparing her heart to obey God concerning her son Jesus, without the full knowledge of what was going to come while at the same time quietly reflecting and capturing this one special moment in time.

May this Christmas be filled with joy and a lifetime of memories, even if you find yourself in unexpected circumstances.  Merry Christmas!

About Lori: Lori Kasbeer lives with her husband Tadd and three teenage sons in Florida. She’s a contributor for Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace and a Christian book reviewer. Please visit Lori’s Book Reviews for more info. You can also find Lori on Facebook and Twitter.

A three strand pearl necklace will be given away on New Year’s Day. All you need to do to have a chance of winning is {FILL OUT THIS QUICK ENTRY FORM}. The winner will be announced on the Pearl Girls Blog (http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com) on New Years Day!

12 Pearls of Christmas Series and contest sponsored by Pearl Girls®. For more information, please visit www.pearlgirls.info

Welcome to day 3 of the 12 Pearls of Christmas. Our guest today shares what it’s like to suffer the loss of a loved one during the holidays and how important it is for all of us to reach out to those who may be hurting during this season.

The First Christmas
by Pat Ennis

It was October of my eighteenth year of life when my Dad stepped into eternity. As a college freshman, I not only had to deal with my own grief, I also was faced with the responsibility of helping my mother adjust to a new lifestyle. You see, when Dad died, she not only lost her husband of thirty years, she also lost her circle of friends. Suddenly the married couples (my Dad was the first of their group to die) didn’t know what to do about Mother—so they did nothing. Her grieving process was actually extended because of the withdrawal of her friends, many with whom she and Dad had enjoyed fellowship for years. 

Our plight was magnified by the reality that we did not have extended family and I was an only child. Quite frankly, the outlook for the holiday season appeared pretty dismal!

As the holidays approached, our neighbors, who embraced a different faith than we, graciously invited us to share their Christmas celebration with them. The sincere invitation, their effort to fold us into their family, inclusion in the gift exchange, and intentional conversation that focused on recounting the blessings of the year as well as looking forward to the next turned what could have been a miserable day into one of joy. Of course we missed our husband and Dad but the focus on the Lord’s provision for us through the hospitality of our neighbors (Philippians 4:8-9, 19) soothed our grieving spirits.

I have a happy ending to my Mother’s loss of her circle of friends that I described at the beginning of this story! Ever the gracious southern hostess, she did not cease to extend hospitality because of the change in her marital status—in the five years that she lived beyond Dad’s death, we entertained frequently, and eventually our guest list included widows from the group that had earlier excluded my Mother. Though her arthritic condition precluded her engaging in as much of the food preparation as she was accustomed to doing, she continued to help me hone the skills that were second nature to her. 

The loving hospitality extended to us on that first lonely Christmas served as a catalyst for Mom and me to open our home throughout the year—especially during the holiday season! Will you consider displaying biblical compassion by including some of the “others”—singles, widows, and the grieving in your holiday celebrations? Who, knows, you might be entertaining an angel incognito (Hebrews 13:2)!

About Pat: Dr. Patricia Ennis is author of Precious in His Sight: The Fine Art of Becoming a Godly Woman, co-author of Practicing Hospitality: The Joy of Serving Others,  and contributor to Pearl Girls, Experiencing Grit, Experiencing Grace. She’s also professor and establishing chairperson of the Department of Home Economics at The Master’s College. Visit Pat’s blog, Unfading Beauty for more information.

Enter to win a three strand pearl necklace, bracelet and earrings. All you need to do to is {FILL OUT THIS QUICK ENTRY FORM}. The winner will be announced on the Pearl Girls blog on New Years Day.

12 Pearls of Christmas Series and contest sponsored by Pearl Girls®. For more information, please visit www.pearlgirls.info

I went to my first Cookie Swap yesterday. I don’t know why I’ve never been to one before. It was really fun and a great way to get together with other moms.

In case you’re not familiar with this tradition, every guest brings two dozen cookies, along with enough copies of your recipe to give everyone else. You place your plate of cookies on a table alongside your recipe. Then everyone goes around and collects two or three cookies, storing them in a container to take home.

The highlight of the morning for me, after visiting with everyone and sharing breakfast together, came when we all swapped “Cookie Stories.” I should have thought a little harder about what to bring because I didn’t have any exciting cookie story to share. I made those little Eagle Brand Mini Chocolate Cheesecakes, and my only story was that I’d gotten back late from a basketball game the night before so I had to make them in a hurry that morning and cool them in the freezer.

But other people shared some wonderful stories. One lady brought Chocolate Kahlua Balls that were from a recipe passed down from her best friend’s mother. Her best friend made them every year until she died a few years ago from cancer. Now they’ve become a tradition as a way of celebrating and remembering their friendship.

Other people shared tips and secrets behind favorite family recipes — or the occasional funny story about how they had a stressful morning that led to a stop by the bakery on the way to the party. One young mother with a baby on her hip confessed that she just wanted to come to be around everybody but didn’t have time to make anything. That was perfectly all right! I’m so glad she was there.

I discovered my favorite cookie wasn’t even a cookie at all. It’s called a Cake Pop. My friend, Leigh, brought these, and they were adorable. They’re made using a cake mix and cream cheese icing. You’ve probably heard of them because, apparently, there’s a whole fan world devoted to Cake Pops.

Leigh said her children helped her put sprinkles on the Cake Pops in the morning before they rushed out the door for school — so I’m most impressed. She wrapped them in cellophane and tied them with red and green curly ribbon, all before 9:30 am.

There seems to be a million variations of these Cake Pops, so I’m going to have to try them. They’re creamy inside, instead of dry, like some cakes taste. Plus it seems like something fun for kids to make — kind of like rolling up balls of play-dough. I think it would be a fun craft idea for a kid’s party — then the guests can take home their creations as party favors.

I found a wonderful video with baker Elizabeth LaBau from About.Com that offers a step-by-step tutorial on how to make Chocolate Cake Pops. (Thank you, Elizabeth! You make it look so easy!)

For me, the Cookie Swap didn’t end when the party was over. It ended that afternoon when I opened up my container of 30+ cookies (and Cake Pops!) to share with my children for an after-school snack.

While they ate, I had a ready audience to share all of my new Cookie Swap stories.

Have you seen this video yet of the surprised shoppers in a Philadelphia Macy’s when several hundred people, dressed normally, suddenly broke out singing Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus, accompanied by the world’s largest pipe organ? Wow. I wish I had been there.

This took place on October 30, and over three million people have already watched the video, so sorry to be passing along old news. I just can’t resist highlighting something so joyful!

The Knight Foundation graciously provided funding for this event, using singers from the Opera Company of Philadelphia and other choral groups.

The “Random Acts of Culture” program is committed to bringing artists out of the performance halls and into the streets as a reminder of how the classical arts enrich lives.

I don’t see how anyone can hear music like this and not believe in God. I hope you enjoy it!

I’ll be on the lookout for more Random Acts of Culture, and who knows — maybe I’ll invent something of my own!

I know I seem to be posting mostly video links lately, but this one is not only adorable, it’s also USEFUL for teaching your children how to handle an emergency.

Here’s a little five-year-old girl who had to talk to a 911 dispatcher while her dad was having a possible heart attack. (Everything turned out OK, thank goodness.)

Could your child do this for you?

Click here to listen.

I confess. I’m excited Jeff Kinney’s latest installment to the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series releases next week! November 9th to be exact. If you’re the parent of an elementary school-aged boy, you get it. Right?

These books are funny, and they’re delightfully inexpensive hardback, so they can handle the wear and tear of being passed around from kid to kid.

I didn’t realize how hugely popular these books were until we were visiting friends in Portland last fall. I rode in the back of a mini-van to the Oregon seacoast with my friend’s two young sons, along with two of my own children. We passed the time by reading Dog Days out loud and playing “Cheese Touch.” This was the first book my then six-year-old son read all by himself. They’re fun for kids to read — and they appeal to the parents on a different level. (I love the mom in this series. We think alike!)

Although I wasn’t too crazy about the movie, (I thought Roderick was way too scary and mean), the books are much better. I haven’t seen a copy of the new purple one, so I’m clueless about what’s inside. But I’m sure I’ll toss one into my cart when I’m rolling through Wal-Mart.

If you’d like to meet Jeff Kinney in person, check out his website for details of his Ugly Truth bus tour. Here are the cities where he’ll be stopping:

Monday November 8–Dallas, TX

Tuesday November 9–Austin, TX LAUNCH EVENT

Wednesday November 10–Little Rock, AR

Thursday November 11–Memphis, TN

Friday November 12–Nashville, TN

Saturday November 13–Birmingham, AL

Sunday November 14–San Diego, CA

I read that he doesn’t do school visits, so if your kids want to meet him, here’s your best chance!

Right now, all over the country — all over the world, I guess — parents are watching kids kick black and white soccer balls up and down grassy fields. I’ve been doing this off and on for the past ten years.

Today I was thinking how much the “soccer mom” thing has changed since I first started signing my kids up to play, back in 2000. Ten years ago, I had to drive to a certain building in my city, walk inside to a desk, and personally fill out some forms. Then I had to personally write a check or pay in cash for the season. I don’t think we could even use credit cards back then.

While signing up in person, I was given a handout that told me a date where I had to show up — in person — to receive the team roster and practice schedule. After that, the coaches contacted us parents by phone to let us know about team practices and games. Nobody used email for this sort of thing.

One mom usually became the designated “team mom,” and she acquired the time-consuming chore of calling all the parents to arrange who would bring snacks and where the end-of-the-season party would be held. Everything was accomplished by telephone or in person.

Now, ten years later, being a soccer mom in an internet world is completely different. A few weeks before the season begins, I sign up online. There’s a website for our rec department, and I type in our family code, click here and there, and pay by credit card. It takes less than five minutes, and I can do it in my pajamas.

Later, I receive a welcoming email sent from a secret place that says “DO NOT REPLY TO THIS EMAIL!” This message tells me when and where the soccer evaluations will be held. We show up. The kids run around for a while, and the coaches see who’s pretty good and who’s never played before, and they assign them to teams so their skill levels are evenly distributed.

Then I get an email with three attachments: team rosters, practice schedule, and game schedule. This year marks the first time I’ve ever had a coach coordinate our snack-drink schedule in advance so that each parent takes a turn. He arranged the schedule by email, of course. How nice!

I’m wondering if my experiences are similar to other soccer moms. What’s it like for parents in France or England or Japan? We have fall soccer and spring soccer, but now in our city, we also have an indoor winter league, so kids who are absolutely crazy about soccer can play year-round. In the summer, we have these British college guys who come over and swelter in our Georgia heat coaching hundreds of kids in soccer camps.

We’ve tried nearly every other sport, but I confess that soccer is the most fun for me to watch. Everybody is more relaxed and friendly. When I had a son in baseball last year, people were loud and vicious, yelling “COME ON JAKE! EYE ON THE BALL SON! FOCUS, SON! PAY ATTENTION JAKEY BOY!!!” It was intimidating for quiet people like me. My stomach was tied up in knots as I watched my son at bat, praying, “Please don’t strike out. Just hit it!” I didn’t like the pressure of baseball, and apparently my son didn’t either because we’re back to soccer where TEAM is the word.

Really, there’s nothing I would rather be doing at my age than watching kids run around in the afternoon sunshine on a green-clipped soccer field. It’s so fun! It also gives me an excuse to talk to all these interesting people, the other parents and grandparents, as we watch our kids kick their way through childhood, heading toward adolescence.

Sure, we’re better connected now behind the scenes than we were ten years ago. But not much else has changed. Soccer’s still all about getting kids together, away from the TV, out into the sun. We put them in different colored t-shirts on teams to make all this play more organized.

And like good soccer moms, we cheer them on.

Note:
I’m delighted to offer you an excerpt from author Peggy Nelson’s new book, Life with Lord Byron: Laughter, Romance and Lessons Learned From Golf’s Greatest Gentleman. Peggy is the widow of Byron Nelson, a champion golfer who still holds the world record for winning 18 PGA tournaments in 1945, including 11 in a row!

If you’d like to enter a drawing to win a FREE copy of Peggy Nelson’s book, please leave a comment below.
[Update: Congrats to holymama for winning this book!]

Byron showed his sensitivity to my feelings and moods in many ways, and of course one of the most critical was golf. Having been a teacher for more than fifty years by then, he realized women need to be treated differently, and he was always gentle in his suggestions as we played together during the first year of our marriage. However I was something of a special case. I just knew I could figure out this simple game all by myself, thank you. While I certainly respected his experience, when we were on the course, I was forever thinking about my score and would brook very little distraction while I was endeavoring to make a seven instead of an eight or nine. Silly, wasn’t it?

So, even though he made very few suggestions, within the first six months Byron saw there was a little problem. I would skull a chip across the green or chili-dip a pitch shot, and he would say, “Sweetheart, try that again with an eight iron this time.”

I would reply (minus the sweetheart), “No!” Or I would try what he had recommended, and if it didn’t work instantly, I would fling the offending club back into my bag and march on to the next hole without a word. I thought things were going swimmingly, but Lord Byron knew better.

One day in May 1987 I had just come home from Dallas where I had been working on a writing assignment for Scottish Rite Hospital. Byron met me at the door with the latest issue of Golf Digest magazine in his hand.

“Sweetheart, I just read this article called ‘How To Play Golf With Your Spouse,’ and I want you to read it. I underlined everything I’ve been doing wrong, and I’m going to change, because if I don’t change, you’re not going to want to play golf with me any more, and you may not even want to stay married to me!”

I melted, of course, as well as feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. There I was, balking at advice from the greatest golfer/teacher ever, and he’s taking all the blame for my frustration on the course. I took the magazine from his hands and sat down next to him. After a number of hugs and kisses and a few tears on my part, I read the article as he had instructed. Naturally the piece was not written for professional golfer husbands who had won five majors, fifty-four tournaments, eleven in a row, eighteen in a year, and taught other pros like Watson, Venturi, and Ward. No, it was designed more for the eighteen handicappers, who wouldn’t know “you looked up” from U.S. Open rough.

We talked about it a little bit and finally figured out that, as silly as it was, I preferred to play on my own when I was on the course, instead of thinking all the time that he was going to want me to try another club or re-do a shot. So from that moment on, he would only offer advice when I asked him during a round.

Oddly enough, that made it easier for me to ask, which I did a lot more often over the years. The result was that, even playing only once or twice a week, I went from a thirty to a sixteen. And let’s not think about how much better I could have been if I had sat at the feet of this master of golf and tried to learn all I could about the game. As he told me years later, he really wouldn’t have wanted me to get so gung-ho that I would be in single digits. He knew how much work that would take and felt it wouldn’t have made me happy anyway. Byron always felt the happiest golfers he knew were the 80-85 shooters, who made enough pars to keep them happy, an occasional birdie for an extra lift, and the occasional double bogey to keep them humble.

Tagging the Master
Oh, it was so much fun playing with him! Not only could Byron still play very well during the first several years of our marriage, but he seemed to get more kick out of my occasional ripping good shot than he did his own. One time we were playing at Riverhill in Kerrville. I was about a twenty-five, and he was about a ten. So we were on the ninth tee, a great, really tough par four, and the forward tees were only a few yards ahead of the whites. He hit an excellent drive, and for once I tagged one that rolled a few yards past his ball.

After rejoicing about my drive, Byron hit a pure little three-iron that ended up on the green about a foot away from the pin for a kick-in birdie. I, my brilliant drive notwithstanding, hit my three-wood amazingly fat and rolled it about thirty yards. Madder than a wet hen, I took out my four-iron, and thinking fairly murderous thoughts, swung blindly at that wretched white ball. Blinking in amazement I watched it sail up and straight onto the green, where it disappeared into the hole for a three. I got a stroke on the hole from Mr. Nelson that particular day!

You would think he’d be a little crestfallen after hitting two wonderful shots and getting an easy birdie but then getting beat by his floundering wife, thanks to that mysterious fiend known as “the rub of the green.” No, my champion absolutely whooped with joy over it and proudly told the story dozens of times afterwards to anyone who would listen. What a hero! “How to play golf with your spouse” indeed!

About the Author:
Peggy Nelson lived most of her life in Ohio, then moved to Texas in 1986 to marry world-renowned professional golfer Byron Nelson. She assisted Byron in the writing of his autobiography, How I Played the Game. Peggy delights in her many friends, in visits to and from her sons and their families, and in the thousands of happy memories she has of her life with her beloved Byron.

P.S. If you enjoyed this article, you’ll love Peggy Nelson’s book, complements of Kathy Carlton Willis Communications. It would make a great gift for any golfers in your circle of family and friends. Leave a comment and you’ll have a chance to win a free copy, which also contains a CD interview, “Byron Nelson Remembers 1945: Golf’s Unforgettable Year.”

Ramona and Beezus opened in theaters last Friday, July 23, and we couldn’t wait to see it. I think we saw the previews for it months ago before the Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie. And you KNOW what a huge Beverly Cleary fan I am! It was co-produced by Walden Media, which has an amazing track record of turning books kids love into movies.

I was overjoyed to be able to invite some of my friends and their daughters to a rated G movie. I didn’t have to worry about any questionable material. This film was so much fun! My girls love Selena Gomez, and the little girl who played Ramona, Joey King, was absolutely adorable.

If you’ve read the whole Ramona series, you’ll see how the script writers cleverly wove together scenes from several of Beverly Cleary’s books. The overall plot centers around the storyline from Ramona and Her Father, when Mr. Quimby loses his job. Throughout the movie, tension builds because Ramona is afraid they’re going to lose their house, so she’s constantly coming up with schemes to earn some money.

And of course, she gets into lots of trouble.

I thought this was a very appropriate theme for families to see together, with the shambles our American economy is still in. Many parents have been hit with job loss, like Mr. Quimby. Yet, in the movie, good things begin to happen, as Mr. Quimby spends more time with his family between job interviews, and he begins to unearth long-ago talents and desires. There’s a scene where Ramona and her dad spend an afternoon drawing together on the floor that is so full of the joys of parenting.

You can read a detailed review on Focus on the Family’s Plugged-in site. Ginnifer Goodwin, who plays Aunt Bea, and Josh Duhamel, who plays Hobart, create a wonderful romantic subplot. I promise you’ll need to bring some tissues. I left the theater with mascara streaks all over my face.

In Beverly Cleary’s interview on her 94th birthday, she does confess some reservations about Beezus and Henry sharing an on-screen crush. She says:

I wanted the film to be called Ramona Quimby or Ramona Q, because it’s about a little girl, but the movie people were very concerned about their teenage audience and made Beezus older. They included Henry, which I did not want and even had them kiss. I asked to have that scene removed and at this point I don’t know if they did. I expect to get letters saying, “It wasn’t like that in the books.” The little girl who plays Ramona is excellent. She likes my books and was eager to play the part. I’m very pleased with the cinematic Ramona.

I personally found it magical to see Ramona on the big screen. I read the books as a child, read them again to my children, and now have seen a director bring these wonderful characters to life. I remember in Beverly Cleary’s memoir, My Own Two Feet, she describes how she came up with the characters, Beezus and Ramona. She created Beezus as a friend for her main hero, Henry Huggins. And then she thought she’d better give Beezus a sibling, so one day she heard a neighbor call out, “Ramona.” And she thought that was a good name. This took place around 1950.

Ah … and the rest is history.

Go see the movie. Enjoy it. But then go to your library or bookstore and get copies of all the books. Read them aloud as a family — and have FUN!