Bobcat Treasure: Jade ... Candles ... and Auld Lang Syne ....

Carved Lavender and Green Jadeite Lidded Vase with Flowers and Birds

Jade ("yu" in Chinese) refers to a fine, lustrous stone, produced over eons by the natural force of rivers running through and over mountains. It exists in a variety of warm, rich colors, and is usually skillfully carved by masters to enhance its luster and increase its beauty and value. For more than 6000 years it has been considered among the most valuable of all precious stones, and is revered as sacred throughout Chinese society. It is also prized by other diverse cultures, including but not limited to Mesoamerican (Maya, Inca, Aztec), Korean, Burmese (Khmer), Brazilian, Canadian, Japanese, Indian and Scandinavian. It is extraordinarily tough and generally impervious to breakage, disintegration or decay.

The ancient Chinese believed jade embodied the qualities of nobility, perfection, constancy and immortality, and represented a symbolic link between man and the spiritual world ... the essence of heaven and earth, and a tangible manifestation of the Chinese belief in eternal life after death.

Thus it seems that jade is a perfect symbol of our enduring link with former classmates and others no longer of this world who touched us or affected our lives in our youth ... an appropriate touchstone as we remember and honor their lives here on the blog. And so I give you jade ....

Julia Ann Stamps Cole - Engaged, Senior play. Julia married Wayne Cole. She was a homemaker and had two children. She was 42 when she died of a heart attack. (Information obtained from Julia's mother, Katherine Stamps.)

Billy Sarrels - DE student. Billy lived in Amarillo, where he worked for Baldwin Trucking Company. He was married with two sons, and now has two grandsons. He died of a heart attack at age 44. (Information obtained from Billy's mother, Mrs. Dalton Sarrels.) Billy and I attended the same Sunday School and church for years. I last saw him in Denver, Colorado in the late 1960s when he recognized me on the street and we had a brief "catch-up" conversation. (For other "Close Encounters of the Bobcat Kind ...", see post dated September 13, 2007.)

Tommy Catherall - Sense of humor, good bookkeeper. Died January 9, 2006. Tommy lived in Wichita Falls for many years. I am awaiting more information from Raenell and will update when it is received.

Paula Leach Schubarth - Only solitaire in CHS, gymnastics team. September 1, 1945 - May 2002, age 57. Paula had three children and numerous grandchildren. She was raising her granddaughter Riley at the time of her death. I last saw Paula the weekend before she died, and many times over the months following diagnosis of the cancer which took her life. (For other memories of Paula see the blog post and comments under Joyeaux Anniversaire, Cher Paula, September 2, 2007 and Judy Smith Johnson's comment under The Spirit of the Season, December 6, 2007.)

Frances Martin Wadley - Broken leg, DE. September 2, 1944 - April 6, 2007, age 62. Frances (sometimes "Franny") worked at the old Childress Hospital during high school, and later at Childress Regional Medical Center for 23 years. She was living in Amarillo and working at Baptist St. Anthony's Hospital until her final illness. She had one son, one daughter and four grandchildren. (Information obtained from Johnson Funeral Home website.) I remember Frances at our Junior-Senior Banquet (Senior year) in her beautiful dress, cast and wheelchair.

James Roy Austin - President of Junior Hereford Breeders Association. February 8, 1945 - May 5, 2007, age 62, of cancer. James Roy remained in Childress after graduation. His obituary noted he was "a cowboy who farmed and was appreciated for his laid-back disposition and dry sense of humor." (Information obtained from Johnson Funeral Home website.) To our knowledge, James Roy never married and had no children. James Roy and his sister Mary Ann and I sometimes played together as children ... always cowboys and Indians, and JR was always the cowboy, so Mary Ann and I bit the dust a lot.

Johnny McConnell - Golf team and blue ford. December 31, 1944 - October 1, 2007, age 63, of cancer. Johnny lived in Spring, Texas and worked in the Houston area for many years. He was married to Jackie (whom he met at Texas Tech) for 40 years, and had two sons and two grandsons. Johnny was actually the first boy outside my family who ever kissed me, chastely on the cheek, as a result of playing "Spin the Bottle" at a wiener roast for the gang held at his house when we were in fifth grade. (See the blog post and comments under John(ny) R. McConnell, October 2, 2007.)

Although they did not graduate with us, we also want to remember former classmates who were in our class for a while, of whose deaths we have been informed.

Dewayne Barber - Worked for the railroad and was a federal Inspector when he died May 11, 2000 in Weatherford, Texas. (Information obtained from Roland Bruce, CHS Class of 1962.)

Evelyn Trent Griffin - Married to "Dub" Griffin, five children. Evelyn worked for a time at Childress Hospital. (Information from JoAnn Neel Lathram. I have attempted to contact those members of Evelyn's family who still reside in Childress, thus far without success.) I remember starting first grade with Evelyn at the Kirkland School, where Lorena Hollomon taught us that year. (Many of us also remember the wonderful Mrs. Hollomon when she taught third grade at Childress Elementary School.) Later, Evelyn's mother Thelma sponsored our Camp Fire Girls troop one year, for which I am sure she deserved a medal, if not sainthood.

Clifton Stewart - Died November 21, 1966. Raenell has told me that she has seen a headstone for Clifton at Childress Cemetery, and it appears there is a military insignia on it, but there is no indication as to whether his death was service-related, and I did not find his name among those listed on the Vietnam War Memorial Wall.

Roy Wilks and Troy Wilks - The Wilks brothers were with us at least until Junior year at CHS. Roy died in Canada many years ago, and Troy in August 2000 in Fort Worth. Troy had two children. (Information from their father, Milton Wilks.)

There are educators we remember as well who no longer stand at the head of their longtime classrooms or walk the halls looking for mischief (sometimes I think our class generated more than its share). Unfortunately, I have less information about them than I do about classmates, and we certainly don't want to "bury" anyone who is still alive and kicking. Nevertheless, we do want to acknowledge Lorena Hollomon, Julia Pryor, Charlotte Sally and Ethyl Biggerstaff, all teachers at Childress Elementary School (3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th grades, respectively); Garland Terrell, junior high school coach and Principal at CHS beginning the year we started as Freshmen; A.B. Shaw, math and algebra teacher, who saved me more than once in his algebra class; Nellie Agnes Kennedy, Senior English and speech, many of whose poetry assignments I remember to this day; Frances Long and Agnes Hughes, home economics teachers; Clarence Darter, social studies and my put-upon but ultimately effective driver's ed teacher (see blog posts "Well Durn ... I'm Thankful..., November 17, 2007 and "The Zen of Studebaker Maintenance and the Tao of Tuffy Maddox...", August 30, 2007); Z.J. Harmon, distributive education; Charlene Reeves and LeRoy Reeves, English, and history and physical education, respectively; Mary Jane Heath, mathematics; Mary Maude Denny, typing; and Martha Wallin, commercial studies and The Bobcat annual staff sponsor. And this year we found an obituary notice for one of our well-remembered junior high school teachers:

Brownie Mitchell Kimbrough, Ph.D. - 92, of Siloam Springs, Arkansas, died Friday, May 4, 2007. Dr. Kimbrough was born in Childress on February 25, 1915 to William Brown and Annie May Handley Mitchell. Married Wade Kimbrough June 6, 1942.

Nicki and I have tried diligently to obtain as much information as we can for this post, but the passage of time has left many gaps and we would be most appreciative if any of you can supply more information in the form of comments to the blog or e-mails to us. If we have missed anyone who should be remembered here, we sincerely apologize. We will update this post as necessary. And we would likewise appreciate comments and memories ... and stories ... about these classmates or educators from you.

Give light and the darkness will disappear of itself. - Erasmus

The lighting of a candle to commemorate the death of a loved one or a friend is cross-cultural. It is seen as a sacred ritual in diverse religions and is incorporated in secular traditions as well. It can ease the path for healing and may represent hope for the future. It is also a potent symbol of the human spirit. The ritual of lighting a candle and watching the flickering flame may be soothing and bring peaceful reverie and contemplation. Rabbi Yehuda Halevi (in his book Kuzari) explains that when a Jew sways back and forth in prayer (daven), the constant swaying motion is a reflection of the candle of his soul, which has been kindled and burns independently. In Eastern Orthodox church rituals, a candle symbolizes the individual soul which each person holds in his own hand. The extinguishing (or giving up) of the candle at the end of the service reminds that each person will have to surrender his soul to eternity at the end of his life.

In The Hundred Secret Senses, her bittersweet novel of the meaning of loyalty, sisterhood, fate, friendship, the supernatural and extraordinary love, Amy Tan wrote: "If people we love die, then they are lost only to our ordinary senses. If we remember, we can find them anytime with our hundred secret senses ... memory, seeing, hearing, feeling, all come together...." The book's protagonist, Olivia, learns "the world is not a place but the vastness of the soul. And the soul is nothing more than love, limitless, endless, all that moves us toward knowing what is true." The ability to use our secret senses to "connect" with those who have gone before us allows us to realize the infinite quality of time.

As 2007 ends and we begin what Nicki and I hope will be a bright and wonderful 2008, many of us will hear once again the haunting music and words of "Auld Lang Syne" (generally credited to Robert Burns, but having roots in older poems and folk songs):

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

and never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

and auld lang syne?

"Auld" means "old" and "auld lang syne" translates literally from Scots as "old long since" ... or idiomatically as "long long ago", or "days gone by". Our answer to the questions posed in the song is an emphatic "No" ... we should not forget who we once were, where we came from, and those who touched our lives so long ago, even as we move inexorably from past through present into future. So, we hope you will take a bit of time to reflect, and to light a literal or figurative candle for remembrance and "connection" ... and that you all will have a VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR.

)O(

Joe Don Hopkins: Confessions From the Locker Room ....

I remember growing up and wanting to be a Bobcat from the time I knew what one was. I also knew that as part of that tradition, I would drink beer and raise as much hell as posible, when the time was right. I did learn a valuable lesson my Junior year, which was the only time I remember breaking training and drinking the night before the game. As I recall, I could not find my you know what with both hands. We were playing Vernon and every time they lined up with the wingback on my side, I was getting knocked down at least two times each play (rather than the one time I was usually knocked down while playing defense). It got so bad that when they lined up in that formation, Coach Warren would yell for me and Michie King to switch sides. Fortunately we won the game and I vowed never again!

We had many heroes that we admired ahead of us, including Hugh Gayle Frith, Jimmy Holeman, Moose Meek, John Danner, Jerry Norman and my brother Teddy (Roy), to name only a very few. Teammates we admired were Michie King, Norman Naron, Keith Fanning, Jimmy Joe Clifton and John Bragg, all one year ahead of us, and again only to name a few. Classmates that played from Junior High through High School were Wayne Havens, Doug Greer, Charles Mitchell, Bob Huff, Harold Simmons, Ron Kindle, Barry Wakefield, Jack Petty and John Wilson. I am doing this sans 1963 year book so if I overlooked someone, blame it on my crs syndrome!

We went through several coaches, changing head coaches after our freshman year in football and basketball. We endured one year of being locked up in Wilson school for two-a-days as freshmen. I think I have that right. It was like being in jail as I recall and made you question just how badly you wanted to be a football player.

We did not live up to our potential as seniors and our best year was our Junior year when we went 8-1-1. Most of the credit for that record goes to Charles Mitchell, Norman Naron, John Bragg, Michie King, Glen Beal, Ray Hamilton,Wayne Havens, John Wilson, Jack Petty, Jimmy Hamm and Bob Huff, in my opinion. Don't mean to slight anyone but please remember I am playing with half a deck at best!

Our Senior year we were rated 2nd in the state, based on our previous record and number of returning starters. We sucked like a giant ant eater, went 6-4, losing to 3 teams we should have beaten. We weren't in very good shape and I remember the second game was at home against Hamlin. Each time we had a time out and the team managers brought out water, we kept moving closer to the sideline in order to make sure we got water. The regular procedure was to wait on one knee and the manager would bring the water to you. This night they were being met shortly after they cleared the sideline. Normally when you are in shape, you take a swig, swallow, take another swig and spit it out and your are good to go. This night players were chug-a-lugging entire bottles of water and I think a few fights may have broken out. Not a good example or role model for the Bobcats to be.

Charles Mitchell sweeps end against Quanah


We did have some great players younger than us who did a great job, including Bobby Meason, Mike Reeves, Phil Self, Ricky Hamm, Johnny Hall, Ted Poling and Jimmy Don Wilson to name a few. A disappointing season for sure, because we did not play to our potential. I used to wish we had made the playoffs until I realized that it would have delayed the start of basketball season, which is another story. Some of us celebrated the end of football by partying at one of the old motels on 287 after the final game of the season. The only problem was that basketball started at 9:00 am on Saturday. Not a fun time!

The Unexpected: The Miracle of the Blog

IF A FAT GUY GRABS YOU AND PUTS YOU IN A BAG, DON'T WORRY, I TOLD SANTA I WANTED A GOOD FRIEND FOR CHRISTMAS!

Sometimes at Christmas it takes only the smallest gesture to touch our hearts in very unexpected ways, a special Christmas card, a gift of cookies, or a phone call. In this case the unexpected came in the form of an email with a funny message of friendship from a treasured classmate and his wife in the class of 1963. Jennifer and I, both feel very blessed to have received this affirmation that old friendships are being rekindled perhaps with a little help from our blog. Jennifer calls it "The Miracle of the Blog" and I agree. I am sharing this message with all of you. I hope you, too, will find your hearts touched in simple and unexpected ways throughout the coming year. A very heartfelt thank you to Harold and Donna.

Yahn Smith: Razor Shards of Rat Puke ... Ho, Ho, Ho ....

Yahn Smith, Bossier High School 1964

As I read through the blog, I am constantly struck by the depth of friendship all of you share. As a "City Boy" I really liked the fact that my father moved around the country with the Civil Service. I was born in 1946 in Greenville, Texas but we moved every few years to another assignment. In 1951, when I was five, we moved to Galveston, where I went to elementary and junior high school. I grew up there on the beach. That was cool. The two friends that I was closest to in Galveston are now both dead.

We moved in 1960 to Bossier City, Louisiana when my father was attached to Barksdale Air Force Base. Bossier High School was primarily an Air Force school. We were not only segregated by race then, but by our father's rank as well. My father's civil service rank consigned me to the group of officers' kids, and officers' kids just didn't run around with NCO or enlisted men's kids. Families were transferring in and out all the time. I had a group that I hung out with in our subdivision, and I often crossed the "invisible line" and had friends in both groups. These kids were a pretty worldly bunch of teenagers, used to being uprooted with little notice and sent off to Japan or Germany or any other base where their father's services were needed. I think to some degree we all knew that it wasn't a real good idea to get too close to each other. None of us were ever as close as I think you guys were and are.

When I read about you guys knowing each other from pre-school and earlier, it's a bond that goes beyond simple friendship. You were part of a community, your parents knew each other, you all had certain shared experiences, and now even those of you who did not know each other very well way back then have a common bond. I cannot help but be a little envious.

In 1974, Jennifer and I were living in Dallas and we drove over to Bossier City to attend my ten year high school reunion. Even though Jennifer and I are the same age, I didn't get to skip grades as Jennifer did. I graduated in 1964. It was interesting to see some of the people. Mostly I went to see if any of the bad things I had wished on some of the "A Group" had come true. High school had not been one of the better experiences in my life, and many of my wishes actually had come true. The star football player, BMOC, was already a fat, balding used car salesman. The snobby cheerleader/homecoming queen had married badly, seemed to drink quite a lot, and was aging rapidly. Almost none of the people I had run around with were there. I've never tried to get in contact with any of them since. I guess I was sort of a loner and I knew that all any of us really had in common was a short lived physical proximity to each other.

That I was an artist (see above picture) also seemed to set me apart from a lot of people. I was unhappy and, within certain limits, rebellious in high school, so I was never going to be voted "Most Popular" or "Best Team Spirit". If you've ever seen the Kathleen Turner movie Peggy Sue Got Married, I was the teenage biker poet writing truly awful poetry: "Razor shards of rat puke raining down ...", etc. By 16, I thought that I was a "serious" beatnik. I went to Fellini films and stage productions of Shakespeare and Shaw over at Centenary College. Some of my friends and I staged spontaneous "Happenings" that maybe ten people would show up for. I ached to dress all in black (black turtleneck and black jeans, like "real" beatniks on TV and in the movies ... see picture below ... with goatee ... under "Season's Greetings from Glitter City") ... except my parents would never have permitted me to dress like that. Imagine a time when teenagers actually answered to their parents' wishes!

Oh, but I so wanted to be "cool". If we'd only had a coffee house in Bossier City for bad poetry readings and bongo rhythms. Not that I was "affected" or anything like that. I remember that I tore a picture of Lawrence Olivier as Hamlet out of TV Guide and took it to my barber. I wanted my hair cut just like his. I was already blond ... just short, little bangs, nothing over the ears or collar or, you know "weird" like that. I was 16 or 17 and he told me I would need a written note from my parents before he would cut anything as extreme as that. Remember, this was still pre-Beatles.

Your group's recollections seem so "American Graffiti" to me. Even though I was "the bad boy" that nice girls were forbidden to invite to their parties (they had to sneak me in the back door or hide me in a closet), we probably didn't get into any worse trouble than you guys did. A little beer, a little kissy-face, cruising around the Kokomo Drive-In (read your Dairy Mart) and up and down the Bossier City Strip which was lined with a pretty mean group of neon-covered nightclubs for the servicemen from Barksdale. We listened to KOMA out of OK City just like you guys, but somehow the atmosphere was very different. There was a security to Childress that was absent in my world. Jennifer had some less than wonderful memories of Childress ... I guess everyone had a lot to deal with growing up ... but she has come to appreciate growing up where she did. The Good,The Bad, and The Ugly ( I think there is a movie in there somewhere) ... it is still one of the things all of you should probably be grateful for, even if it wasn't always sunshine and roses.

Happy Holidays (again) to all ....

Good Tidings ... Great Joy ....

Today we heard from Mike Spradley, who has been absent from the blog recently for health reasons, but who is doing better now. So, in the season's spirit of sharing, and with Mike's permission, we are delighted to post his e-mails for all his friends who care for him and love his stories ....


Hey there Jenn ... tomorrow I go in for my last treatment ...... it always knocks me out for two weeks ... so just give me a couple of weeks and I will contribute to the blog again.... But I will be fine again soon enough ... we got it under control ....

Good news is that during hallucinations which accompany the chemo .....I often come up with good stories........I will tell a quickie before I have to go get poisoned tomorrow...... Warm holiday wishes to all ...............

Struck Dumb by Lightning Bolts from Space

I think I have mentioned that.........because I sadly left Childress in 1960 at 14 years old......I always tell people that my childhood still lives in Childress. I mean......I have nothing but wonderful wonderful memories of Childress...... It was truly a Huckleberry Finn upraising.....

In my oil exploration industry.........I have worked....traveled.....visited about 40 or 50 countries......and I have gained a worldwide reputation for being a joke teller and story teller. I want you to know......that I have never exaggerated a story in my entire life!!!! Many of the stories are about my childhood in Childress.

I also want to say, before I start this story........that I have been blessed to be married to my high school sweetheart for 45 years...... She's the only gal for me.

Anyway, the story..........

As I mentioned to Jennifer once, I was scared witless when it came to girls. Big-time shy.......turned legless whenever one of the Childress gals came anywhere near me.

In the 7th grade, I once got dressed up in a tie for a church event and off I go. Once I got to the church, the vivacious June Prince came up to me and told me that I was "debonair". I assumed that was a French word for "ugly as a toad"......so I was devastated....destroyed.....crushed....shot through the head... tortured..... I left the church and went home....upset........ My Mom asked me why I was home so early...... I told her that June Prince had called me some weird French word and I was outta there..... I was leaving town forever....... Once my Mom told me what the word meant, I walked around with my jaw about half cocked for two days. But my new found arrogance was temporary.

At one time or another, I was secretly in love with every girl in Childress. Don Seal's big sister, Paula, was 4 years older than us. I used to calculate over and over.......lemme see......when I am 14....Paula is 18..... when I am 18......Paula will be 22........ Great!!! That's when we can be married.........all I have to do is screw up the courage to tell her...... I can get a job picking rags to support us....... I was studying hypnosis at the time and for her graduation I bought her this little trinket on a necklace........ I practiced hypnotizing her with the bauble to make her think I was a 14 year old Elvis........but that did not work either....alas..... She went off to college and married some Neanderthal from Phillips....... 'Twas one of my many heartbreaks.......

Anyway, that is not the story.........

In 1958.......we are in the 8th grade....... I am standing in front of the Old Fashion Freeze......just ordered a rainbow snowcone that can't be beat......and I am looking at the street jist a'slurpin' it down......

Coming from North to South......at that corner.......at the stop sign......is a brown '58 Ford...... It's being driven by Bettye Shahan......she is driving her Mother and Grandmother around......

She accelerates........and drives right past me.....looks up......sees me..... She takes her right hand off the steering wheel.......and OHMIGAWD!!!........ She waved that hand in a circular motion at me.....!!!!!

Immediately!!!!!.......who is Paula Seal?.......I am in LOVE!!!!!

She had driven two blocks before I got my jaw back in place.....my right hand was frozen in the open position where my rainbow snowcone had slipped thru and fallen to the pavement to be slurped up by my dog Max. I worked my way back up to the bench where some illegal immigrants helped me sit down to gain my breath........they flapped towels in my face to get my body temperature down......

After several minutes......I regained some composure......and got onto my bike to ride home. I ran off into several ditches.......my dog kept me from riding out in front of the trucks on the highway.....and somehow.... I made it home.......

My brother had to flagellate my body with thorned bushes to get me to return to Earth.

So to Bettye I say......"One never knows upon what shorelines your ripples fall."

Season's Greetings from Glitter City ....

... to all of you from all of us (including Calamity, Gaius Maximus, Antonio and Noah), with this contribution from Guinevere the Druid Goddess (and with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore) ....

'Twas the night before Solstice, and through Caesar's Palace

Strange creatures were stirring, some laughing, some callous.

The casino glistened and hummed with the prayer

That fair Lady Luck would soon visit some there.

The children were scattered, the pets home abed,

While visions of jackpots danced in our heads.

And Yahn with his Scotch, and me with champagne

Were just settling in to enjoy a game

When from the roulette wheel arose such a clatter

We sprang from our seats to see what was the matter.

We flew to the wheel, we moved in a flash ...

Saw Bubba from Texas walk off with his cash.

The lights and the tinsel put on quite a show

And gave bright luster to rooms all aglow.

Then what to our wondering eyes should appear

But Caesar, and Cleo and tribunes ... so near!

A little old lady, so lively and charming

Was stuffing her bills in slots so disarming.

More rapid than eagles the slot reels all turned,

Just chiming and flashing while money was burned.

"Now Double, Now Triple" ... her play quite excessive ...

"Now Ten Times the jackpot ... Now hit the Progressive!"

First stroke the machine, now slap it and hit it ...

Now quit with the winnings and cash in the ticket.

Dancing as fireflies on warm summer nights

The players cavorted, and reached for new heights.

From table to table, to slot and to wheel ...

Some winning, some losing ...the scene so unreal.

And then in a twinkling I heard in the din

"Omigod, Megabucks!!! Oh, man, did I win???"

As I craned my head and was turning around

Down the aisle the floor super came with a bound.

Dressed in his tux, from his neck to his shoe,

Color-coordinated, three shades of blue.

A bundle of money arrayed in his hand,

Form 1099 ... the crowd started to stand.

His eyes how they twinkled ... the gleam of his teeth!

With goatee and mustache, suggesting a wreath!

His tight little mouth was pursed in a bow

Framed in his whiskers, white as new snow.

Red-faced with glasses and wide eyes to boot.

He looked like an owl getting ready to hoot.

Professionally jolly, a surrogate elf ...

I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

Cocking his eyebrow he checked the machine ...

A tight little laugh, between funny and mean.

With a roll of his eyes and a clearing of throat,

He turned to the player and straightened his coat.

"Sir, don't you know that when playing the slots

Only "Maximum Bet" wins "Progressive" jackpots?"

He paid out some hundreds, then left with the money ....

It could have been millions ... so NOT even funny ....

But I heard him exclaim, as he flew up the aisle

"Amateurs! Amateurs!" Then he started to smile ....

)O(

The Spirit of the Season

Tis the season to have some fun! We want to give everyone an opportunity to wish classmates and friends season's greetings. Please send me a recent Christmas picture or recent photo of you and/or your family along with a short greeting of your choice. If you don't have a digital picture, I will be happy to scan it. It is my intent to create a slide show on our blog of these pictures. These photos can be sent to my email nickiw@suddenlink.net You can also email me for my home address.

In the spirit of having fun, please allow Jim and me along with our two grandsons to inspire you and get you in the holiday mood. Click on the link below

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1148979196
This elfin' greeting brought to you by OfficeMax®.