Story #1: Jay's whole family was just here for a big Christmas weekend -- lots of presents, lots and lots and lots AND LOTS of cookies. Jay's sister Patty brought along a Christmas game that involved a list of about 20 or so letter combinations that corresponded to Christmas songs. For example, if the letters said, "O L T O B", you have to figure out that that stands for "O, Little Town of Bethlehem." Or "T F N" is "The First Noel", and so on. I live for games like this and got right to work. Jay, on the other hand, had trouble figuring out the correct titles, so he decided to be a smart-alek for each answer. For "R T R N R", he wrote "Ralph, The Real Nice Raccoon." For "JB", he wrote "Jingle Blessings."
Jingle Blessings? Yes. Jingle Blessings.
Story #2: One of the greatest sandwich restaurants in the history of the world, besides Kansas City's own Planet Sub, is a place called Jimmy John's. There are Jimmy John's restaurants in my sister's town, there's one right across from the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, and there are some in Omaha, and in the southern part of Kansas City, but not anywhere near where we live. For years I have been lamenting this. "Why don't we have a Jimmy John's by our house?" I would always say, over and over and over again. It's been an obsession of mine.
Today, we were in the car, and I saw something ... shimmering on the horizon like the Star in the East. It was ... A BRAND NEW JIMMY JOHN'S ... RIGHT!!! BY!!!! OUR!!!! HOUSE!!!
"IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!!!" I exclaimed, trying not to cry.
"Yes," said Jay, clearly moved as well. "It's a Jingle Blessing."