Author unknown

Take twelve whole months,
Clean them thoroughly of all bitterness, hate, and jealousy,
Make them just as fresh and clean as possible.

Now cut each month into twenty-eight, thirty, or
thirty-one different parts,
but don’t make up the whole batch at once.
Prepare it one day at a time out of these ingredients.

Mix well into each day one part of faith,
one part of patience, one part of courage,
and one part of work.

Add to each day one part of hope,
faithfulness, generosity, and kindness.
Blend with one part prayer,
one part meditation, and one good deed.
Season the whole with a dash of good spirits,
a sprinkle of fun, a pinch of play,
and a cupful of good humor.

Pour all of this into a vessel of love.
Cook thoroughly over radiant joy,
garnish with a smile,
and serve with quietness, unselfishness,
and cheerfulness.

You’re bound to have a happy new year.

© Wake Up With the Wolf Show – 93.1 the Wolf – WPAW.  Please share this with your friends!

As the year comes to an end, everyone loves to make lists of the best/worst/etc.  I thought I’d join in the fun!  Here are a few of my favorite things from 2009:

Favorite Country Albums
Keith Urban – Defying Gravity
Eric Church – Carolina

Favorite Concerts
Kenny Chesney (twice!)
Bon Jovi
Taylor Swift

Favorite New Country Acts
(There’s a lot of these! And they may not be “new” but they were new to me this year)
Love & Theft
Gloriana
The Band Perry
Zac Brown Band
Justin Moore
Matt Stillwell

Favorite Guests in the Wolf’s Den
Phil Vassar
Chris Young
Billy Currington
(what can I say, I like when the Country boys come to visit!)

Honorable Mention Events
Danny Gokey singing Happy Birthday to me
Working on the “Extreme Home Makeover” house
Chris Young’s album release party in Burlington
Justin Moore’s concert on the baseball field in Wallburg
Meeting 50 Cent when he came to our sister station

2009 was an awesome year and I feel so lucky to be a part of all the great things that happen with The Wolf!!  Thank you listeners so much for letting us do what we do and being a part of the Wolf family!!  I can’t wait for 2010

xoxo
-Charley

By Donna Doyon

I recall as a young child bringing bouquets of brilliant yellow flowers to my mother. It didn’t matter that the stems felt sticky or that both my parents cursed the presence of these flowers in the lawn. I thought they were beautiful!

And there were so many of them! We spent hours picking the flowers and then popping the blossoms off with a snap of our fingers. But the supply of dandelions never ran out. My father or brothers would chop off all the heads with the lawn mower at least once a week, but that didn’t stop these hardy wonders.

And for those flowers that escaped the honor of being hand-delivered to my mother or the sharp blades of the lawn mower, there was another level of existence.

The soft, round puffs of a dandelion gone to seed caused endless giggles and squeals of delight as we unwittingly spread this flower across the yard.

As I worked in my garden last week, pulling unwanted weeds out of the space that would become a haven for tomatoes, corn, peas and sunflowers, I again marveled at the flower that some call a weed. And I thought, “If only I had the staying power of a dandelion.”

If only I could stretch my roots so deep and straight that something tugging on my stem couldn’t separate me completely from the source that feeds me life. If only I could come back to face the world with a bright, sunshiny face after someone has run me over with a lawnmower or worse, purposely attacked me in an attempt to destroy me. If only my foliage was a nutritious source of vitamins that help others grow. If only I could spread love and encouragement as freely and fully as this flower spreads seeds of itself.

The lawns at my parents’ homes are now beautiful green blankets. The only patches of color come from well-placed, well-controlled flowerbeds. Chemicals have managed to kill what human persistence couldn’t.

I hope you and I can be different. I hope that we can stretch our roots deep enough that the strongest poison can’t reach our souls. I hope that we can overcome the poisons of anger, fear, hate, criticism and competitiveness. I hope that we can see flowers in a world that sees weeds.

© Wake Up With the Wolf Show – 93.1 the Wolf – WPAW.  Please share this with your friends!

No, these are not Chuck’s shorts after 2 bean burritos!  This is the actual underwear worn by the would-be bomber of Northwest Flight 253 on Christmas Day.

Author unknown

Lord, thank you for this sink of dirty dishes; we have plenty of food to eat.

Thank you for this pile of dirty, stinky laundry; we have plenty of nice clothes to wear.

And I would like to thank you, Lord, for those unmade beds; they were so warm and comfortable last night. I know that many have no bed.

My thanks to you, Lord, for this bathroom, complete with all the splattered mirrors, soggy, grimy towels and dirty lavatory; they are so convenient.

Thank you for this finger-smudged refrigerator that needs defrosting so badly; It has served us faithfully for many years. It is full of cold drinks and enough leftovers for two or three meals.

Thank you, Lord, for this oven that absolutely must be cleaned today. It has baked so many things over the years.

The whole family is grateful for that tall grass that needs mowing, the lawn that needs raking; we all enjoy the yard.

Thank you, Lord, even for that slamming screen door. My kids are healthy and able to run and play.

Lord, the presence of all these chores awaiting me says You have richly blessed my family. I shall do them cheerfully and I shall do them gratefully.

Eight-year-old Virginia O’Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of New York’s Sun, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial Sept. 21, 1897. The work of veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church has since become history’s most reprinted newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies, and other editorials, and on posters and stamps.

“DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so.’ Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?”

VIRGINIA O’HANLON.
115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET.”

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

The official U.S.-Canadian trackers of Santa Claus have cranked up their high-tech watch for the jolly old elf.  Kids of all ages, click here to follow Santa as he delivers toys to children around the world.

Merry Christmas from the Wake Up with the Wolf Show and may you continue to be blessed in the New Year!

by Father Ted Berndt

Who is Santa Claus? You can’t answer that question with a name. In fact, you’ll find that it’s not easy to describe Santa Claus.

For instance, we all know he’s a short, round sort of old gentleman – yet his spirit is so tall it soars out of sight beyond the stars. And he’s been around for hundreds of years, his beard and hair are snow white – but he’s the delight of children everywhere and he belongs to them.

The North Pole is supposed to be his home. But, he lives in ranch style homes, in trailers, in “walk-up” flats, in smart apartments, in boarding houses, and in mansions. And he’s spent many a night in “fox-holes” too, from Guadalcanal to Normandy to Korea and Viet Nam.

We say that he visits us at Christmas time. And yet, if we would look around, we’d find that he is with us all year round.

Because, you see, Santa Claus is hope and courage and vision and self sacrifice – all rolled up into one delightful personification. His job is bigger than making children happy at Christmas time. He walks with those who dare to dream the big, bold dream. And he is no stranger to this land of ours. He helped to build it.

You wouldn’t have recongnized him that awful winter at Valley Forge. He was lean and gaunt as he stood in the shadow of the sentry fires. You might have walked right by him years later on a train to Gettysburg. But he was sitting there – next to a man named Lincoln, watching him write immortal words,…”that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom…and that the government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

And when Johnny Appleseed scattered the seeds of fruit and shade across the land, Santa Claus walked beside him. Who do you think handed tools to young Henry Ford? And when Orville Wright soared into the air at Kitty Hawk, do you think Santa would have missed that? No, Santa was there, smiling…waving.

How can all this be?

Because Santa Claus is the spirit of giving. Wherever this desire to give exists (whether it be gifts, physical effort, mental genius, ideas or love) there also Santa Claus appears.

How long will Santa live? As long as his spirit – born in a stable in Bethlehem – lives in the hearts of men, women and children.

As long as we continue to listen for footsteps on the rooftops – he’ll be there.

© Wake Up With the Wolf Show – 93.1 the Wolf – WPAW.  Please share this with your friends!

Submitted by Wolf Gang members Debbie Walters & Angie Purgason

The story goes that some time ago a mother punished her five year old daughter for wasting a roll of expensive gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and she became even more upset when the child used the gold paper to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree.

Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift box to her mother the next morning and then said, ‘This is for you, Momma.’

The mother was embarrassed by her earlier overreaction, but her anger flared again when she opened the box and found it was empty. She spoke to her daughter in a harsh manner.

‘Don’t you know, young lady, when you give someone a present there’s supposed to be something inside the package?’

She had tears in her eyes and said, ‘Oh, Momma, it’s not empty! I blew kisses into it until it was full.’

The mother was crushed. She fell on her knees and put her arms around her little girl, and she begged her forgiveness for her thoughtless anger.

An accident took the life of the child only a short time later, and it is told that the mother kept that gold box by her bed for all the years of her life.

Whenever she was discouraged or faced difficult problems she would open the box and take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.

In a very real sense, each of us, as human beings, have been given a Golden box filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, family, friends and GOD. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.

© Wake Up With the Wolf Show – 93.1 the Wolf – WPAW.  Please share this with your friends!

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 nestled 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?
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 the 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 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 pray with them that they’ll be given the joy
Of the sprit 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 ever give away.
The sack never empties of love, or of joys
‘Cause inside it are prayers, and hopes. 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 of 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 the 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.”

© Wake Up With the Wolf Show – 93.1 the Wolf – WPAW.  Please share this with your friends!