Hello, friends. Some of you are wondering what happened to the Story of the (Every Other) Week, which has been running here on the WhereAngelsWalk website---and has been sent to you regularly---since 2002. Unfortunately I have had to close down the mailing list. This is not because it is becoming too expensive to mail thousands of people---that’s a cost I’ve gladly born in order to bring encouragement and goose-bumpy stories to all of you.

No, someone out there complained to the people who run our mailing program that I had sent spam (which I would never do---actually I’m still so inept on the computer that I honestly wouldn’t know how to send it). This caused the mailing program people to get us all upset with threats, blackballing etc. Frankly, I’m glad they care about spammers. It’s just that I never was one, and at this stage of my life, I don’t need the aggravation that comes with being falsely accused. This site has had its share of attacks, probably due to the spiritual content, so this isn’t surprising.  So here’s what’s happening now:

Since this website no longer has a mailing program, I can’t send this announcement (or any other) to you; I have to just post it here on my site, and hope that you eventually visit the site to find out why you didn’t receive the story. I WILL be posting an occasional new story on the Story of the (Every Other) Week page, just as is done now. It simply won’t be mailed to you. You have to come and get it! (I will continue to post news of JoAnn Cayce, the Christmas toy collection and other topics of interest.)

I have already developed a home page devoted to angels and miracles on another website. It’s called Beliefnet, and is the largest religious website in the world. They feature tons of people from all religions, offer interesting articles (sometimes a little New Age-y but they are open to all) and---for our purposes---a chance to stay in touch. Here’s how:

http://community.beliefnet.com/whereangelswalk

You’ll see a photo of me and the way to become a member of Beliefnet.  THis should be a temporary measure because  I do hope to soon have a new mailing program, and we can return to the way we did it before.  Keep checking right here. And thanks for your love and loyalty through the years.

- Joan Wester Anderson
joan@joanwanderson.com

When newly-wed Joan Clayton, of Portales, New Mexico, suggested to her husband Emmitt that they plant a small cedar tree in front of their new house, he was doubtful.  Their house was on a corner lot and the tree might not survive either the traffic or the weather, he pointed out.  But as they both stood gazing at a little sapling at a nearby nursery, Joan felt certain that it was meant for them.  “I’ll call it my ‘blessings tree’,” she announced, “and it will grow strong and tall, and reach up to heaven.  Everyone who passes it will be blessed too.”  Emmitt smiled. His bride got a bit carried away now and then, but he supposed there wouldn’t be much harm in planting it.   He waved to the salesman, who came over to help.  “My name is John,” he said, shaking Emmitt’s hand.  “That’s a sturdy little tree, but I can’t lift it for you.”

“That’s okay.”  Emmitt lifted the five gallon bucket, swung it into the pickup and paid John.  As they pulled away, John waved.  “It’s a blessed little treeeeeee,” they heard him call.  Hadn’t Joan said that very thing?  Now she looked at Emmitt.  “We can put lights on it for Christmas,” she said.

“Lights?” Emmitt, the practical one, objected right away.  “We’re not having lights on that tree!  What a waste of money.  Besides, it would run up the electricity bill.”

Joan sighed.  She had already discovered that, although his virtues were many, her groom was a bit…conservative financially.  But she would say no more.  They had the tree, and that was enough for now.

“We planted the tree in our island in front of our house for all to see,” says Joan. “And as the years went by, I watched it grow. Heat in the summer, freezing temperatures in winter and wind-storms year around pelted my blessing tree. I had storms too. Our three lively little boys had accidents and illnesses but like my tree, they survived with strength and wonder.”

There was just one difficulty:  Emmitt refused to put lights on the tree.  “It would just be a waste of money,” he often said, as Christmas approached.  First, Joan prayed about it, hoping to see him change his mind.  Later, she resigned herself.  The tree would not have lights on it, after all.  But it had been a gift to their family anyway.  Emmitt had had five major surgeries during those years and he, like the tree, stood tall with perseverance and stamina.  Fierce winds of adversity had blown branches this way and that. Yet the tree---and the family--- persisted. “Blow, wind, blow,” Joan often thought.  “But we will still be here when the storm is over!” If her tree could make it through the difficulties of life, so could she.   The boys grew up, and so did the cedar tree, almost twelve feet tall by now.  “That tree is too tall to put lights on, anyway.”  Emmitt pointed out as Christmas approached.  Joan said nothing at all.  It was time to accept his decision and let it go.  But that night, while praying in bed, Joan sighed.  “Lord,” she whispered, “it would have been so nice if Emmitt had said, ‘Honey, don’t fret about it. We’ll get someone to put lights on that tree tomorrow.’”  But she had never heard him say those words, and now she knew she never would.

Five minutes later, Emmitt turned over in bed.  “Honey,” he whispered in Joan’s ear, “don’t fret about it. We’ll get someone to put lights on that tree tomorrow.” Joan could hardly believe her ears.  Emmitt had said the exact words to her that she had said to the Lord.  And the next day she burst into tears when she overheard him talking to the garden nursery man.  “I don’t care what it costs,” he said.  “I want you to make that tree beautiful for my wife.”

All through that Christmas season Joan’s tree blessed everyone that passed by.  It glowed with a special light, she thought, the light of unselfishness and sacrifice.  Emmitt had always been taking care of her, she realized, with his concern for finances and raising his family.  The tree lights were just another way of saying the same thing: “I love you.”

It was a wonderful Christmas, made even more special by the actions of two men.  Emmitt, and Jesus.