It was 1996 - returning to my hometown fixed a broken heart.   After twenty years ,  most did not even know me.  I'd been beautifully raised there, married, off with corporate life and love - parenting, then early and suddenly widowed and empty-nested.  Our children and I worked hard on our grief and won the Triumph! But too soon, I was injured in an accident, while  hot-flashing with menopause, and response work burnout.     

And so it was Christmas 1996.  Till my disability setup was complete, I was Staying at the shelter I had helped before the disability, still helping with things, and doing up alterations of gifted clothing for others, for their job interviews, cultural enrichment,  including music and arts.  And I was able to help with computer training: and  even night watch, which was there for the men's but not the women's floor (but that's another story).

Memories of forty years of bountiful Christmases helped a lot, to buffer the suffering at the shelter, and I was able to generate some Holiday for me and the half dozen "mates" there.  But then another family death took even that bit of cheer from my heart.   I did not even have money for a few Christmas Cards - let alone the hundreds I was used to, since childhood.  My emotions were getting a bit scary.   "ACT ! "  "DO something" , , . I thought !  

As painful as it was, a walk to town was one block away and I went to the art shop where I'd purchased my first artists' mannequin as a girl, and found the thing I needed !   The spark rekindled on the spot !   I purchased it and limped back to the shelter, supper.  Then I found a tv table and a seat in the hall - making Christmas Cards with a stamp pad and Mary Englebreit's Santa image on the stamp, captioned,  in large letters  

"BELIEVE" .  

yes "Believe" I thought , as I set to it.
Soon, I smiled as the memory of a family movie trip, the very funny  Indiana Jones Library stamp scene came to mind.    I turned that thought as loose as I dared.   With each stamp to card, the message of cheer and the word "BELIEVE"  banged at my dulled consciousness - I was not on medications, but so battered emotionally , but this "Believe" stamp project was working -  and so I did more - and more,  now repeating the message to ME and the others in the shelter - 

"BELIEVE"      

Grasp the stamp:   "Thud"  to the stamp pad - "BANG" to card.    
Again and again and again and again - till the murky emotions let up and "normal" was within reach and I marveled at how a thing COULD help.   My mates reacted with holiday cheer and encouragement - YES - injured myself, I was still being a good redcrosslady.

NO it was not over for me:  there were "complications", to my own redemption,  but a bit later, my rescue came, correct care, mybungalow for business and pleasure - and my work at the White House!   "Pretty good believing, no?"    More than I dreamed !

YES I still have the kit and cards and have not needed to repeat the performance with them.  But I keep them handy - I may need them or need to share them with someone who needs to get their inner lights restored.

BELIEVE!