Don’t Waste Those Christmas Cards

We sing our Christmas carols
and pray our saintly prayers—
We decorate our Christmas trees
and share our Christmas cheer.

We are tempted to dispute,
a waste on Christmas cards—
Buy a ten-for-a-dollar pack
and write some worthless words.

Do we ever take the time
to choose a better card?
Do we really want a Santa
who drives a flying sleigh?

There’s something more to Christmas
than dashing through the snow—
A message of the new-born King,
is what I want to see.

Scenes of Mary and her child
with shepherds kneeling near—
Angels in the realms of glory,
announcing Jesus’ birth.

Do you see the Christmas star
reflect against the sky?
Those tiny specks of glitter dust
bring gladness to my heart.

Treasures of the Saviour’s birth
displayed upon each card—
To decorate our mantle shelf
and hung in every room.

Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh
three very special gifts—
Each to honour the new-born King,
asleep within a stable.

I want to share the joy I feel,
with every card like this—
Each one affirms our Father’s gift
and hope to all mankind.

So precious is our Savour’s birth,
we need to spread the news—
It’s time we took a stand
and share Him with the world.

Take some time to choose a card
it’s really not that hard—
Perhaps you could design your own,
but make it from your heart.

Come; let’s rejoice in His birth,
spread the news, Christ is born—
Choose a card that declares the truth;
don’t waste those Christmas cards.

© Chrissy Siggee


Fifteen Tarnished Christmas Bells

David took a deep breath. The musty smells of the old town hall made his nose itch. This place still reminded him of community gatherings, nativity plays or combined Easter services. An old plastic Christmas tree leaned against the wall; bent over and covered in cobwebs. He pushed aside the sagging stage curtain and touched one of the fifteen tarnished Christmas bells which hung in a neat row. He closed his eyes and tried to recall the familiar sounds. All he heard was the squeak of the front door.

‘Mrs Jessop, good to see you. What’s it been…?’

‘Twelve months’, she groaned. The old woman placed her scarf and handbag on a nearby table. ‘Where is everyone? I want to be home early tonight.’

‘Well, Teresa married in January and moved to the coast. Donald won’t be here… you knew his wife died from cancer a few weeks ago?’

‘Yes, I read the funeral notice in the obituaries but I was too busy to go.’

David was about to continue when a soprano rendition of Hark the Herald Angels Sing echoed in the empty hall. He turned toward the door and laughed as his star performer approached. The girl’s chubby face reflected enthusiasm which oozed from her.

‘Meredith, you look um… colourful… as usual.’ He stepped back and gazed at her peculiar outfit.

Mrs Jessop stood with her hands on her hips. Her head moved slowly from side to side. ‘I hope we’re not dressing in florescent angel costumes this year to sing Angels in the Realms of Glory.’

Meredith giggled. ‘It’s been a fabulous year David. I earned an art scholarship in London.’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘I have always wanted to work in London. Perhaps this will be my big chance.’

The side door swung open and a middle-aged woman entered as she spoke. ‘David, I can’t believe it’s that time of year again.’ She smiled and offered a hug. ‘John won’t be coming. He’s still away at army training.’

Mrs Jessop frowned. ‘Well, well. That was a bit inconsiderate of your son, Joan. He could have at least waited until after carolling season before he joined the Army.’ With another shake of her head she slumped heavily into a chair.

Almost simultaneously, two other choir members burst into the hall through the front and side entries. The commotion rose with reminiscing and laughter which now seem to brighten the dreary hall.

David glanced at his watch and whistled. ‘Okay everyone, you know the routine. We’ll have three practices before we start carolling. Let’s begin tonight with Meredith’s choice, Hark the Herald Angels Sing.’ He paused as the choir members took their places in a curved line, shuffling closer to fill gaps where others had once stood. David cleared his throat. ‘It’s sad to think that if we go on like this, within a few years our town’s carolling group will no longer exist.’

Smiles disappeared and expressions became solemn. Whispers betrayed their thoughts.

Joan, one of the older group members, broke the quiet chatter. ‘Oh please, don’t say that David.’

He straightened and coughed. ‘Well let’s not spoil our practice. Maybe we can have a meeting some time and do some recruiting for next year.’

Mrs Jessop made a throaty gruff noise. ‘Oh, but we can’t have strangers singing carols with us.’

‘Why not?’ Meredith’s face flushed.

‘Well… because…’

David tapped his baton on his music stand. ‘Twelve years ago, we began with fifteen carollers. We all knew each other like family and regardless of which church we attended, we visited each other during the year. We shared each other’s joys and sorrows.’ He sighed heavily. ‘When was the last time we commenced our annual carolling practice with a party… or polished our bells?’

Meredith sat on the floor and crossed her legs; her head in her hands. The line dispersed. Joan’s husband Rolf, brought a chair over so Joan could sit.

‘So, it’s come to this?’ Mrs Jessop sighed.

The hall grew silent. The only sound was the occasional creaking of the rafters and the wood-rotted door rattling with the slightest breeze.

‘I still want to sing Hark the Herald Angels Sing’, Meredith whispered.

David tapped his baton again. ‘OK, let’s sing our best this year. We’ll polish our bells and let the whole town know that we want carolling to continue. Let’s announce the birth of Jesus like we haven’t done before.’

A gentle white snow began to fall outside and the words Hark the Herald Angels Sing echoed in the old town hall and throughout their little town.

© Chrissy Siggee

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in
Christian Reads by Chrissy at Riverside Peace


Beyond the Veil

Nothing appeared real. I embraced the moment and took in the scene before me. Was this the beginning, or the end? It didn’t seem to matter. I felt at peace.

I was surrounded in a mysterious whiteness. There was a curious sensation of weightlessness like drifting on a summer cloud. I heard singing. I heard music, and beyond the sheer white veil before me, hands stretched out to me.

‘Come’, a voice called.

I reached out and separated the white from white. ‘Who are you?’ I whispered.

‘Come,’ the voice called again. It was a gentle voice, yet powerful and alluring.

I drifted through the mist and looked around. The image lingered. ‘Lord?’

Again, I heard His voice. ‘Come.’ This time the image approached; hands still outstretched. Our fingers touched.

‘Come, my child. I love you, and I have plans for you.’

‘Lord, show me your will for me. I’m lost without you. I’m lost in my confusion. Show me what I need to do. Tell me how to cope. I need you Lord.’

‘Take my hand and trust me. Your heart is troubled my child. Why do you doubt? Your confusion will melt away; just like this vision. Only trust and obey. Go back. I have made you for a purpose, and this has not yet been fulfilled.’

In an instant the white veil appeared before me again. We had turned full circle. The white on white image of my Lord blended slowly into the mist. ‘I will trust you’, I whispered into the air. The veil parted. I stepped out and drifted away.

My eyes were heavy and the sound of muffled voices invaded the peace. Something forced my left eye open and a bright light flashed.

‘Sally. Sally. Can you hear me?’ The voice became clearer. ‘I’m Doctor Sherman. Can you squeeze my hand?’

I squeezed his hand.

‘Good girl. You scared us there for a while,’ the doctor responded.

‘Where am I? What happened?’

I squinted at the torchlight in my right eye.

A nurse checked my pulse. You’re in hospital. ‘It’s been a long night. We thought we had lost you. Where have you been?’

Where have I been indeed, I thought. But instead I asked, ‘How did I get here?’

Doctor Sherman sat on the side of the bed. ‘You collapsed in your garden. Your daughter found you. She wasn’t sure how long you had been unconscious. She called 000, and here you are. It was a minor heart attack but tests have shown little damage. We don’t believe it was serious. We’ll run some more tests today and get a Cardiologist to visit you when we have the final results. You should be right to go home tomorrow if everything is okay.’

I stared at the doctor and then at the nurse. I wasn’t even sure how long I was staring. ‘Can I see my daughter, please?’ I finally asked.

A few moments later Sheena, my precious only daughter, stood beside the bed holding my hand. ‘You scared me half to death Mum.’

‘I’m sorry and I’m sorry too that I haven’t been the kind of mother I should be. I…’

‘It’s not you that needs to apologize. You were right. John is bad news. Our relationship was wrong. Can I please come home? I need you to help me get back on track’. Sheena lowered her head and sobbed.

‘Sheena, I love you and always will. I think we have some work to do on our relationship, and I have a feeling we won’t be doing it on our own.’

Sheena looked into my eyes. Tears ran down her face and tilted her head. ‘Who?’

Tears stung my eyes. ‘Let’s talk about it when we get home. In the meantime, I need some sleep. Please stay. I’d like to have you here after my tests.’ Holding Sheena’s hand in mine, I closed my eyes to seek a glimpse of white on white beyond the veil. Thank you Lord.

 © Chrissy Siggee 2019

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in
Christian Reads by Chrissy at Riverside Peace

Temptations in History

The teacher talked on and on about the Livonian War that lasted twenty five years back in the mid to late fifties of the seventeenth century. History could be boring. Mr Tirone was boring.

Finally, the bell rang and Todd snapped out of his trance.

‘Thank goodness that’s over.’ Trish groaned aloud when she caught up with him at the door.

Todd agreed. ‘Yeah, I didn’t think it would ever end. I thought history was going to be an easy class.’

‘How’s it going with the assignment?’

‘Don’t ask. I mean, where do I start?’

‘We could work on it together at my house tonight. My parents are both working the late shift and my kid sister is staying over at a friend’s house.’

Todd grinned. ‘OK. I’ll come over right after I do my Math homework. Now Math I can handle but I can’t afford to get behind on it.’

She gave him her best see-you-later smile as she entered her next class. Todd continued to the gym where the last forty minutes of the day would be a little more active.

It was just after seven when Trish open the front door to him. She was wearing a pretty pink top with a low cut neckline.

‘My parents will be home about nine so we only have a few hours.’

Todd force himself to look above her shoulders where he met her smile. ‘OK. My curfew is nine thirty so let’s get started.’

He followed Trish into the kitchen where her text books laid open on the dining table. His back pack slipped off his shoulder and he let it rest on an empty chair.


‘Thanks. Do you have juice? I’m not into soda stuff.’

‘Sure. Orange or apple?’

‘Apple please.’

After a few minutes of casual chitchat over the breakfast bar Trish leaned forward. ‘So, where do you want to do this?’

Her breath smelled of mint and her floral perfume tickled his nose. He cleared his throat and turned toward the table.

‘The table is fine.’ He picked up his back pack and opened the zip. ‘I just brought the main textbook and a note book. It’s great that you have offered to help. Maybe I just need to get started.’

Trish came close but didn’t sit so Todd did. Big mistake. He turned his head and placed his juice on the table to his right. He cleared his throat again. Trish walked around to the other side of the table and pulled out a chair.

‘Are you OK Todd? You seem nervous. I can assure you that no one else is here.’

Todd nodded and took another sip before he spoke again. ‘Let’s get on with this.’ He opened his text book to the Livonian War. ‘I really don’t see why we need to study stuff that happened in the seventeenth Century.’

‘I find it intriguing. I could listen to Tirone all day.’

Todd grimaced. ‘I take it that History is a favourite subject.’

‘No. I prefer Human Dynamics.’

Todd was confused. ‘What? Which one is that?’

Trish knee bumped his sending chills up his spine but she didn’t seem to notice.

‘Silly. I was joking. Now let’s open to page two-six-five.’

It was exactly nine when Todd looked at his watch. ‘I’d better go.’

Just then the back door opened and a man entered. ‘Hello there.’ He must have been six foot three at least.

‘Hello Daddy. This is Todd. We’re working on our History assignment.’

He looked from his daughter to Todd and back again. ‘Yeah right.’

Todd wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

‘Oh Daddy, don’t be so dramatic.’

Todd rose and stuffed his textbook and notes into his bag. ‘I was just leaving. Nice to meet you Sir. Thanks Trish. I really appreciate your help.’

Trish stayed where she was. It was then he noticed why. She held her text book close to her chest.

Todd left the kitchen with a nod and headed to the front door.

The following day while Todd was sitting in the History classroom early to jot down yesterday’s notes from the blackboard, Trish came in and stood behind him.

‘Thanks for a great night.’

He stopped writing and looked up. All he could think of was the moment she opened her front door.

A few sniggers followed by other students who had also entered the room.

Todd sucked in air. ‘We should do it again sometime.’

More sniggers.

Trish winked and moved to her usual seat.

What’s going on here?

Mr Tirone entered. ‘Open your textbooks to page two-six-five. Todd Hughes, what did you learn from yesterday’s “boring” class?’

Heat rose to Todd’s face. Good thing Trish helped me out last night. He turned to the requested page and answered the question.

‘I’m impressed’, Tirone stated. ‘And I thought you went to sleep.’

Laughter rose across the classroom and Todd felt Trish’s eyes on him. He dared a look and returned her smile.

I can handle this. She’s cute enough and knows her history.

Over the lunch break Todd sort out Trish to thank her for getting him out of an embarrassing situation.

‘Hello Todd.’ The voice was soft and warm.

‘Hello to you too.’ He smiled at Trish. She’s beautiful, even in her school uniform. ‘Thanks for last night. It came in handy today.

The girls who were sitting with Trish stood and left. He felt awkward. ‘We can talk later.’

‘That’s OK. They get it.’

Todd looked around. ‘Get what?’

‘You know. You me. Us.’


‘Don’t you like me?’

‘Yes, but I thought we were just friends.’

‘Friends are cool I guess.’

Todd bit his lip. ‘You mean…all that last night?’ It felt like his stomach flipped and he found it hard to breathe. ‘What about your Dad?’

‘He’ll get over it. We’ll just have to be more careful.’

Todd didn’t answer.

‘We didn’t do anything wrong.’

‘No, we didn’t. We were just studying together.’ He thought about what he would say next. Yes, he liked Trish but he wasn’t sure if he was ready for a relationship. He had thought it would be nice to have a relationship with someone when he went on to university. He may have been ready for that. Now he wasn’t so sure. ‘Trish, where do you want this to go?’

She shrugged. ‘As far as you want.’

They were so close that he could look into her eyes. They were a pretty blue and her blonde curls kinked at her perfectly shaped eyebrows. He breathed in her scent and his nerve endings quivered.

‘I don’t know.’ He drew in another long breath.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ Her voice broke.

‘Nothing. Nothing at all. You’re perfectly beautiful. I just don’t think either of us are ready for this.’

‘Oh Todd. We could just study together after school. Maybe at your house if you’re not sure about mine.’

He sighed. ‘I don’t think we can study together now.’

‘We could make out.’

Todd smiled. ‘Why don’t we wait a while. We can be friends at school.’ He paused. ‘You helped me more than I would have thought last night. I think I may even grow to like history.’

They both gave a short laugh.

‘I’m not sure if I could handle being in the same class now.

Todd took her hand. ‘We’ll get through it. I promise.’ With that he kissed her hand and left.

© Chrissy Siggee – 2019

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in
Younger Teens by Chrissy at Riverside Peace


Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. – Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV)

Ah yes… it’s one of those “let go and let God” verses. It takes on a new meaning when we learn to rest and let Him work on our behalf. We need to trust God in all our circumstances and wait expectantly for the peace that follows.

I think sometimes we pray for God to help us, to lead us, then we walk away trying to do things one our own just as we did before we went to the Father. We need to rest in knowing He is in control even if it’s not an instant answer.

I read once in a daily devotional book by Susie Larson that God doesn’t make things nice, He makes things new. How right she is. Thank you, Susie, I needed to read that.

Resting in God is the key to let Him do what He has planned. Don’t take the burden back up and carry it around with you when you have left it with the Father.

Father, thank you that when I’m weary and burdened down with circumstances in life that I can come to you in pray and lean on you. Help me to rest in you know you will make all things new. Amen

© Chrissy Siggee  2019

Scripture Verses used are from the New International Version of the Bible

Christian Reads

Locked Out!

‘Geraldine! Open the door. Please, let me explain.’

‘Go away, Mum! I don’t want to talk to you.’

‘Please understand, Geraldine. I had to do it.’

‘That’s just so lame.’ Geraldine rolled her eyes. ‘You’re pathetic.’

Geraldine’s mobile phone played her favourite Red-Hot Chili Peppers song: Nobody Weird like Me. She grabbed her iridescent purple phone from the bed and checked the caller ID. Crystal’s photo appeared on the screen. ‘Hi, Crystal, I’m not really in the mood to talk.’

‘Geraldine, what’s going on? I was about to knock on your front door when I heard you screaming.’

‘Where are you now?’

‘At your front gate. Where are you?’

‘In my bedroom, but…’

‘I’ll come around to your window.’

Geraldine was about to argue but realized Crystal had rung off. By the time she opened the window Crystal was outside waiting.

To Geraldine’s relief, Crystal kept her voice quiet. ‘So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?’

Geraldine turned and threw herself back onto the bed. ‘I can’t believe she did it.’

‘Did what?’ Crystal raised her voice to a hoarse whisper to be heard from where she stood in the garden.

‘She threw Dad out.’

Crystal climbed through the window. ‘He’s been drinking again?’

‘Just because he likes a drink after work…’ Geraldine bit her lip and paused. ‘It wasn’t his fault that he hit her last night.’ She began to cry.

‘Hey, girl, you can’t possibly think he should stay if he’s hitting her.’

‘But, he’s my dad and it’s his home too.’

Geraldine’s best friend sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Do you remember when my mother threw my dad out?’

‘That’s different, Crystal; he was beating you and your brother. I remember going to the hospital with you when he broke your arm.’

‘Like, before that, he was hitting my mother. She used to hide out the backyard until he fell asleep, but then he started beating us instead. Yes, Geraldine, that’s why she threw him out, but do you think your mother is going to wait for that to happen to you? Your mother knows what we went through.’

There was a gentle knock on the bedroom door and Geraldine accepted a tissue from Crystal to wipe her eyes.

Her mother’s voice was croaky. ‘Geraldine, can we talk?’

‘OK Mum. Just a minute.’

Crystal gave her Geraldine a quick hug before she climbed back out the window. As she waved goodbye, Geraldine took a deep breath before opening the door.

© Chrissy Siggee

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in
Younger Teens by Chrissy at Riverside Peace

The Moon and His Friends

Jenny sat on her window seat staring into the night sky. Stuffed animals snuggled in round her patiently waiting for a bed time hug. The night light by the bed gave the room a soft glow and the moon lit up the window.

‘I wonder if there is someone on the moon’, Jenny whispered into the ear of Jerry the monkey that had curled his long arms around her neck.

There was no answer of course but Jenny continued to speak softly. ‘One day I want to fly in a rocket ship and visit the moon. He looks so lonely way up there.’ Her voice faded and her eyelids drooped.

‘Will you take me with you?’

‘Who said that?’


Jenny turned to see all the animals smiling at her.

‘Which one of you can talk?’

‘All of us’, they said in unison.

‘But you’re not real!’

‘Yes, we are.’ Jerry loosened his hold and slid to her lap. ‘Why do you think the moon is lonely?’

Jenny blinked rapidly before answering. ‘Well, look at him. He just hangs there all night every night. I never see anyone out there with him.’

‘Just like us.’ He nodded to his friends who quickly nodded back.

Betsy the cow mooed loudly. ‘We sit and watch the moon all night every night.’

‘Why?’, Jenny wanted to know.

Jerry answered. ‘Because you only take one of us to bed.’

‘But there’s no room for all of you. I don’t want anyone to fall out while I’m sleeping.’

‘Oh, it’s OK really’, Marty the rhino replied. ‘We like watching the moon too. We’re his friends.’

They were all watching the moon when Jenny heard another voice.

‘It’s time you were in bed.’

‘Can I take my toys?’

Mum kissed Jenny’s forehead. ‘Not all of them. The moon needs his friends.’

Jenny smiled but didn’t open her eyes as her mum place her in her bed and left the room.

‘Good night Mum. Good night moon.’

And the animals on the window seat just watched the moon.

© Chrissy Siggee – 2019

Archived in
Children’s Corner at Riverside Peace

Annoying Cousin Gertrude

It was Eric’s third morning of his mountain holiday. He’d just nestled back against the decaying roots of a fallen tree that lay balancing over the edge of a large waterhole. The trickle of a lazy waterfall created tiny ripples across the surface of the water where sunbeams played. The peace was interrupted by the sound of a twig snapping.

‘What the…? How’d you know where I’d be?’

Gertrude giggled and approached Eric. ‘I got up early to follow you. I thought you might be lonely fishing by yourself. Besides, this is one of my favourite places.’

‘Well, I’m not lonely, so you can go home.’

Gertrude paid no attention and began to toss pebbles into the water. ‘I can catch fish too you know.’ She stepped into the water and inched her way toward the waterfall, splashing about as she went. ‘Here, fishy, fishy.’

Eric rolled his eyes. He looped a worm, spearing it onto his hook with the last turn. He was two years older than his pain-in-the-neck cousin and he didn’t particularly want her around. His parents decided the summer holidays with thirteen-year-old Gertrude at her family’s mountain property, would be good for Eric. He doubted it.

‘Get out of the water and keep quiet, you’ll scare the fish.’

‘Only if I can help.’

Eric scanned the parameter of the waterhole and began to work on a plan. ‘Okay, I need more worms. Lots of worms and they have to be long, fat ones. You could try over there.’

He pointed towards a small opening in the rocks behind the trickling waterfall, almost twenty feet away. The waterfall is really only a trickle and the water doesn’t look deep. She’ll be fine. He smiled at the thought.

Eric cast his line, leaned back and closed his eyes. This is nice…



Eric opened his eyes towards the sound. His bait tin had blown into the water. It was then that he noticed the dark clouds overhead and the strengthening breeze. He reeled in his line and scrambled down to retrieve his tin. He paused. Uh oh…

‘Gertrude, where are you? We’d better get back.’

He did a quick check of the area. I guess she took the hint.

Light rain fell as he packed up his fishing gear, but by the time he put his backpack on, it had become a heavy downpour. He was about to leave when he thought he heard his name being called. He stopped and listened.

‘Eric! Help me!’

The call repeated and although it was faint, it was definitely Gertrude. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from. It seemed to be coming from under the ground. Eric was baffled.


Her reply was barely audible. ‘I’m in here. Behind the waterfall.’

Eric dropped his backpack and ran straight through the waterhole. He climbed over slippery rocks and slid behind the falls that now flowed steadily down the rock face. The ground inside the narrow cave was muddy and he struggled to stay on his feet.

‘Gertrude, where are you?’

‘This way! Be careful, the wall’s collapsed.’ Her voice echoed faintly but Eric could now hear her clearly.

He gingerly felt his way along a dark tapering, downward tunnel. ‘Gertrude?’

‘Right here.’

Eric almost tripped over his cousin. He crouched and felt the ground around them. Mud had covered her legs.

‘Can you move?’

‘Yes, but I hurt my ankle when I slipped with the mudslide.’

Eric dug the mud away with his bare hands and eased Gertrude to her feet.

‘Lean on me’, he said gallantly.

Once they were moving, they fumbled their way back up through the short tunnel to the opening behind the falls, Eric found himself whispering. ‘What is this place?’

Gertrude grimaced and leaned heavily on Eric’s arm for support. ‘This whole area around the waterfall is a maze of caves and tunnels. I’ll show you around in a few days when the ground dries out. Heavy rain comes unexpectedly up here… I should have known better. The upper streams don’t take long to fill and create enormous changes in the falls and waterhole.’

She paused momentarily. ‘Hopefully, we can swim back to where you were fishing, before the water rises.’

With their back against the wall, they eased their way around to the far end of the waterfall where its flow was less intense. They jumped simultaneously into the water below. Cascades of water plummeted down on them, thrashing them below the surface.

Coughing and breathless, they finally dragged themselves onto the bank and into the shelter of a huge rock.

He watched Gertrude shiver and squeeze the water from her shirt. She’s not really a kid.

‘Gertrude,’ he asked quietly. ‘Why do you have to be so, so…’

‘Annoying? I don’t know. I just wanted to be friends.’

He studied her face. ‘Can we start over?’

After a few moments Gertrude nodded causing drips of water to fall from her hair and spill down her face like huge tears.

‘Okay, but call me Trudy. I hate Gertrude.’

They both laughed.

‘So, Trudy, what do you want to do when the rain stops?’

© Chrissy Siggee

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in
Younger Teens by Chrissy at Riverside Peace

Little White Dove

Rising, falling,
Gliding, flying.

Mantled in whispers of cloud,
Little white dove blissfully endowed.

Rising, falling,
Gliding, flying.

Softy embracing a heavenly tone,
Fly little white dove in skies unknown.

Rising, falling,
Gliding, flying.

Little white dove rise beyond the dance,
Through the power of a rhythmic trance.

© Chrissy Siggee

Archived in
Poetry by Chrissy at Riverside Peace

Herbs, Herbs, Herbs.

Thyme & Sage
Chives. Why do you struggle so?
More sage and Borage. I haven’t grown Borage for years. Looking forward to Borage tea.
Yes. More Sage and Basil.
Rosemary looking good. Tastes good too.
These are some of the first herbs I planted in March. We used up all the basil. Waiting for seeds to grow.
mmmm…You may have guessed that Basil is a favourite.
Oregano is looking a little poorly but it’s still great on pizzas. There’s always plenty of Parsley. The 3 x 3 pots in above 3 photos are all situated at Norm’s finger tips for when he’s cooking on the BBQ or in the Pizza oven.
Fresh herbs ready for indoor cooked meals over the next few days. Did I say I love Basil? 🙂

Archived: I’m in the Garden


2 Thessalonians 3:11 – For we hear that there are some which walk among you disorderly, working not at all, but are busybodies.

1 Peter 4:15: But let none of you suffer as a murderer, or as a thief, or as an evildoer, or as a busybody in other men’s matters.

Rumours are harmful, and no one should take rumours as truth but place it in the Lord’s hands, seeking His wisdom and truth. Even friends and family don’t always know the truth of rumours and we need to protect each other in love by stopping rumours as they occur. Rumours do injury to the innocent and encourage mistrust, which in turn, ruin relationships with others.

God is our judge and counsellor, and if one of His children needs counselling and discipline, He will instruct and administrate. We have no right to judge anyone on others hearsay.

Rumours seemed to be present in most churches and ministries and as leaders we need to seek out the truth before we give discipline to the wrong person or persons. Discipline and action should be according to the deed and under God’s instruction.

The old saying: ‘nip it in the bud’ means to stop something before it grows or gets worse. It’s kind of like nipping a flower when it’s still a bud so it can’t grow. We as Christians can ‘nip’ a rumour in the ‘bud’ before it becomes uncontrollable and causes harm. To pass on hearsays or word-of-mouth tattle-tales, is immature and falls short of Christ in us.

Words can be powerful and very harmful. Proverbs 18:21 says: Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.

We need to check our hearts and protect our brothers and sisters in Christ. Close your ears to rumours. Nip them in the bud, and if need be, check some details yourself and clear up any rumours that are causing harm against your brother/sister and love them.

Philippians 4:8 – Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

Father, help us to keep our tongue restrained and stop rumours before they do harm. Give each of us a heart of love for all our brothers and sisters in Christ and protect relationships with truth and honesty. Keep our hearts pure and give testimony to it. Amen.

© Chrissy Siggee  2012

Scripture Verses used are from the New International Version of the Bible

First written 2012
Updated for Riverside Peace 2019.

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