Sometimes He Buys Me Grapes is a memoir that shares the “song and dance” of life for a woman. It is about relationships and what happens with and inside them over time, in a very candid way.   

The heart of a woman touches everyone around her and a woman’s heart needs to be whole. When family is good everything is fine in the heart of a woman. When blessed with pure friendships, that is icing on the cake for everyone. When desire, lust and love enter the picture, life often gets complicated. At that point relationships change. Some of the changes lead to break-ups and moving on. Then they reach that “back to me” point of rediscovery, the life journey coming full circle.

My love affair with words that express the lives that we live and the people that we love happened by chance. Having always been considered a sound but passionate writer who could capture the essence of a moment in a personal way, I thought it was because I only wrote about people and things that touched my heart space. It was personal because it came from the heart.

One evening in 2013, I took pen in hand as if making an entry in a journal that was no longer kept and was confronted with the reality that things had not been going well at home. It did not feel like the warm loving place it used to be; it was filled with growing friction, with no sense of harmony.

“I thought of my parents, my childhood, and the love my parents gave me and my siblings. Those were and still are happy thoughts. The love that started in the home gave me strength…when I was small, and even now.”  

At that moment of reflection, I became inspired about the special relationship with my mother. Still holding on to the love of my mother and all that she instilled, I began writing the poem, “My Mother Prayed for Me.”  That was the beginning of Sometimes He Buys Me Grapes. It was created and inspired in the essence and the core of love.

With this book of poems, prose and short stories, I, Regina Gale, want to open up conversations to matters that are important but often are not discussed. It is not easy to be vulnerable. Nor is it simple to discuss topics that have hurt so bad or have caused one much embarrassment or fear, or even worse risk having feelings ignored by people who are supposed to love you.

Sometimes He Buys Me Grapes is raw and candid. It is extremely personal, full of emotion and real life. It is the heart and soul of a woman, sharing a life that is wonderful and exciting but also difficult and sad at times. Senses will be touched with laughter, maybe a few tears but mostly memories within the journey of life in Sometimes He Buys Me Grapes.   

It is available on in both Kindle and paperback versions.



“This book of poems is an unfurling of life events written in such a way that you can’t help but laugh, cry, and reminisce on your own life experiences……  Very compelling……”
H. Young

“Take a deep breath ….. and begin a lyrical dance of words …..featuring the memories of life…. and it’s lessons.”

“Sometimes He Buys Me Grapes” …Is one of the most thought-provoking books of the 21st  Century.  Whether you are in love, out of love, or wanting to be in love, this book speaks to you in some way: through reflections, songs, essays or
poetry.  It also provides a new and different conversation for men and women to think about, moving forward, in relationships.  Highly Recommend!”
Lille` Mc Ghee
Queen, Author, Artist, Poet
Mc Ghee Queen Associates
San Jose, California



When I think of the conversations that arise regarding gentrification I find it perplexing because by definition it is a process of renovation of deteriorated urban neighborhoods by means of the influx of more affluent residents (Wikipedia definition). Why can’t this be done with plans which include ways to help those who live there benefit and enjoy what is to be a more thriving community as well.


In my life, I have witnessed how gentrification has changed some communities but the people who originally made up the community seldom benefited. It was always the businesses coming in to save the community that benefited.  Even then, the influx of “jobs” they were supposed to bring, often did not particularly aid those who lived there.


Maybe my thoughts are quite simplistic on why or how some of the neighborhoods that once were ignored are now deemed potentially valuable. It sometimes seems it is easier and more economical to contemplate displacing people from what may be the only home they have ever known then it is to improve infrastructure that support the crumbling of a community. Usually the community has cried out for assistance, but often their voices are not represented and their request for help is given little priority.


It often stems with economics. In general, the neighborhoods that have the most need often receive the least assistance in maintaining and improving structures and facilities that would provide better long-term conditions for those living in areas that become targets for gentrification. Secondly, the area for gentrification is usually close to what is considered the hub or an extension of an existing more affluent community that has run out of space and needs more space for growth.


All of us are for growth, but what frequently takes place during “renovation” is a community of people find themselves taxed out, priced put and often put out of the area that has been home to them. The residents within the community have little ability to object. Too often, they are left out of the early planning stages when their voices could offer collaborative initiatives. They have no choice but to make the best of what befalls them.


I believe that any economic emphasis should make improving existing economic conditions by adding resources that build up community’s primary resource…the people who live there. Having state of the art libraries to serve the community, having parks where children can actually play, alternative centers where teens can go after school to study, play and learn. This will both improve and level opportunities in economically underserved areas and can even spawn growth and opportunities from within the community.  


One person’s reality is another’s dream. Everyone wants to be able to care for their families, have safe shelter and have opportunities for advancement in life. The reality is we don’t all begin at the same starting line. Some start at various points which are farther ahead of others, that those behind can only dare to dream of reaching that starting point in their life journey. We all start where we start, due to no fault of our own. That being the case, consideration, thought and respect should always be a priority when lives are going to be disrupted during “growth”. Finding ways to help a community that is struggling economically to become healthy should be the emphasis long before gentrification is considered the right answer.


There is no easy way to go about growth when the plan includes taking over an area where the people live there it home.  That being said, being sensitive to those who will be disrupted during “the growth” should always include representation for them every step of the way. Everyone should win, the businesses wanting to move in and “revitalize the area” and those who call it home. What are your thoughts regarding gentrification? I’d love to hear them.



Regina Gale

I was asked to speak on a program with three other columnist for Constitution Day a few weeks ago. This is some of what I shared.
Freedom of speech and what it means to me has meant different things throughout my life. With age and life experiences, I process things much differently today then I did when I was young.

The 1st Amendment declares the right to free speech, is a right afforded to every citizen of the United States. There should be no dispute when free speech is used to highlight issues that affect the citizens in the United States. The 1st Amendment states that “all men are born equally free and independent, and have certain natural, inherent and inalienable rights, amongst which are, enjoying and defending life and liberty, acquiring, possessing and protecting property, and pursuing and obtaining happiness and safety.” Every citizen has that right!!!

The need and importance of free speech is evident every time I feel one of the 1st Amendment Rights have been assaulted or abused… I ask you to think about the following questions.

1.) In your opinion, are the 1st Amendment Rights more a goal or a reality for some of the citizens in the United States today?
2.) In your experience, have these rights been a reality for all of the citizens in the United States in the past 40 years, 20 years, 5 years, or even the last year?
3.) What do you expect to be the reality for your tomorrow as an equal citizen in the United States?

In answering remember that equal means equal so everyone has the right to the promises made with the 1st Amendment.

Free speech comes easy for some and harder for others because of their past experiences…their history, which may be starkly different than yours, predicates how they feel, react and get along in their lives.

It also affects one’s willingness to openly discuss how they feel, with people who do not share or understand their past experiences. Considerations of other differences which are real are often dismissed because they are complicated when one questions whether or not equal opportunities have truly been available. We are all born into various economic differences, for some that is an immediate advantage to others.
• Have you ever questioned the fairness of disparities in education, recreation or economic possibilities simply because of lack of opportunities within some communities?
• How do children and their families really survive when they have very little access to basic needs like food, shelter and love, which contributes to one having equal advantages throughout life?
These are unpleasant things to talk about and yes that fact alone affects whether or not someone is willing to speak out, which is their right. They also carry the burden of sometimes having to prove that they are doing what they can because others view the socioeconomic aspect as weakness which is not their burden or concern.

I am inspired when I see people come together to speak out about injustices and bring attention to the public that we, as a nation still have problems in 2017. Living in ignorance does not make a bad situation go away, especially if that situation denies some citizens the rights that are promised in the 1st Amendment.

When our forefathers came together, to build a foundation for this nation, they did so wanting to get away from being oppressed and treated unjustly. That fact alone should make all of us angry when we see injustices happening to any citizen. You do not run from injustice only to employ injustice. Freedom of Speech is one way in which, we the people, can keep things in check.

I must admit, there have been times when I, myself, should have spoken out boldly and loudly for injustices that I knew in my heart was wrong, but sometimes, I failed to address it, because it was not happening to me. I tried to excuse my silence by telling myself that I as a solitary person could do nothing…but that was not true for me or for any of us. Sometimes for change to happen it takes one voice…if for nothing else than to inform others which makes them aware.

As I mentioned earlier, a person’s history plays into how our individual experiences shape what we accept, expect and even tolerate.

In 1788 neither women, nor impoverished men, black or white could vote. The only people who could vote were black and white men who paid taxes and or owned property …basically the elite.

That factor has had an underlying presence in how have based their views and opinions when we talk about race, gender and freedoms in America. Change is difficult and no one likes to give up a good thing. The question is, is it good for one or is it good for all? It has to be good for all. When it only benefits a few, it goes against the freedoms and opportunities promised to all Americans.

I remember when I was in grade school and every Friday, each student in class would get a copy of the Weekly Reader, which summarized current events, at whatever grade level you were.
One particular issue focused of the fact that America was becoming a cultural melting pot, and how that diversity would add richness to our society. That was the first time I had ever heard that term, melting pot, which to me meant acceptance. I was excited to think that perhaps this meant everyone could actually have opportunities for careers and lives that had not been an option to automatically expect in my world. I remember going home that day and telling my mother that maybe one day I could be president, because the county was changing and we were a part of a melting pot.
She looked at me, smiled and hesitated before she said, “maybe you can.” You see, due to my mother’s history and experience, she had given up hope of ever seeing a person of color as President of this country. I was so young and she did not want to discourage my ideals and tell me I would have to speak up and demand to be treated as an equal throughout my life.
I shudder when I think that sometimes anyone of us has had to demand that another person treat us respectfully and fairly as an equal. That is a right we all have.
Equal should mean equal. Having examples that look like me was and is as important as having examples that look like you were and is to you. A beautiful thing happens when we have an equal playing field, everybody is in the game working together to be better as a whole. When one wins we all win.
The focus should never be on race, gender or even sexual preferences. That is personal and none of us had or has control of that. The synergy of what we each offer due to our differences improves the outcomes for all of us.
In the following poem, “My House Too” I share personal experiences and thoughts.

My House Too

Benjamin Banneker built the first American ticking clock
Tick tock, tick tock went the wooden clock
It is on his watch
The plans did sprout
A free black man – in charge
Part of the team
That surveyed the land
To build the house
That represents the land of the free
The home of the brave
Yes, he was free
And he was black and he was smart and he was brave
He had to be
He left a mark on history
He had a part of what became
Our nation’s home
Which was built by slaves
Who toiled to build the house we love

The house took a while to feel like it was all of America’s house
Or even my house
It took a while to feel I would be welcomed as a guest
Not there to serve or clean or wait upon
But there to participate in the debate
In the things that make this country great
And accepted at my home
In the house that represents the land of the free for you and me

Martin had a dream
And we all dreamed too
That one day
Black, white, yellow, red and brown
Would stand together as one
Then the actions of many
Brave black, white, yellow, red, and brown
Found they could come together
And work together to make our foundation strong

On November 2008, I cried with so many others
When I saw with my own eyes
A nation which I love
Become colorblind…a melting pot
The majority dared to stand together for change

Refusing to believe the lies that stemmed from hate and bigotry
A nation who refused to participate in the negative debate
About the lack of someone’s pedigree or their family tree
A nation which stood behind a man who loved his wife, his family, his God
A man with principles not purely defined by black or white
Because he lives his life as black and white
A man committed to unite what was morally right

It was then, that the house
Built by slaves
To represent a nation of the land of the free
The home of the brave made history
When President Barack Obama
Walked through the door
To his new house
The White House
I finally felt the freedom to feel like the White House
Was my house too.

We all need positive examples that look like us, especially when we are children. This empowers us all to step up our game in life. This has not always been embraced. Sometimes we all have to admit that facing the truth unveiled with time is sometimes very ugly. Although it is hard to admit that within the truth, our history which is not always good is history that belongs to each of us. In order to make this country as good as it can be we have to trust and believe in each other as equals and continue to work together as we use and protect our Freedom of speech. That is what will make us more united and strong.

I was thinking about my grandmother this morning and I started smiling. I laughed out loud as I remembered some of the experiences shared which did not seem significant when I was a child, but are important now. The many acts of love displayed by my paternal grandmother remain with me years after the fact. Just thinking of them makes me feel the love even though my grandmother is no longer alive.

We, the grandchildren referred to our grandmother as Mother Zelma. My grandfather, who we referred to as Papa, called her “Saffire,” because as he would tell us “she is one sassy woman.” For the longest I did not know whether that was meant as a positive or a negative attribute to her being. I would watch the energy exchanged between them when he would call her “Saffire,” instead of Zelma. Often it was done to annoy or tease her. I would see the fire in her eyes and the expression on her face as she looked at Papa as he attempted to provoke her. Most of the time she would ignore him and keep doing whatever she was doing. The other times, she would retort back with something smart that would have everyone amused. We, the grandchildren would be giggling at the exchange, even though half of the comments went over our head just because of our young age. We knew, whatever it meant, it was funny and came from a heartfelt place. It was times like this that I could view Mother Zelma as someone other than my grandmother. She was a vulnerable yet strong independent woman.

Mother Zelma was structured and regimented about everything in her life, except her grandchildren. I believe we allowed her and maybe taught her how to play. She admitted she never had much time to play when she was a child. Mother Zelma did not talk about her youth much but I do remember her sharing with me how hard life had been when she was young.

I know for sure that we, her grandchildren played a significant role in her ability to open her guarded life. Children have a way of unarming even the most guarded people due to their natural tendency toward innocence and acceptance. Mother Zelma, as I mentioned was structured and that meant everything in her life was neat and orderly to a fault. She was always cleaning and the house, although I never saw the house dirty or out of place, except when we, her grandchildren came to visit which we did at least once a week.

Every Sunday after church we would stop by her house and enter with toys, books, crayons and lots of noise, ready to play. I am sure she prayed extra those days for patience as we ran through the house, around the house and in the house as children do. Exploring everything and anything we could get into. From the second she opened the front door to her home to let us in, our being there transformed what had been a quiet atmosphere to a boisterous “function at the junction.” When the noise got to be a bit much Mother Zelma would have us sit and do quiet things. We hated those moments and thank goodness, they did not last too long.

One of my favorite pastimes was to play grownup. I would strut around the house in a pair of her high heels and sometimes she would allow me to wear her cherry red lipstick. I would then go through her clothes looking for something pretty and not matronly. Eventually I would work my way to her prized cedar chest (which I now own.) The chest was filled with beautiful things she never used or wore. I would pull them out one by one and ooh and ah over them. She never wore the clothes she put away in her cedar chest, so every now and then I would ask her if I could have whatever would catch my eye that day. Mother Zelma would just smile as usually tell me no I could have what was in the chest. She would softly tell me that one day I would have my own chest of dreams. Sometimes she would tell me that one day she would use these things she loved and had in many cases worked hard to acquire. She was just waiting for the right time or the right opportunity to do so.

My grandmother never used anything in that cedar chest which was full of dreams and things she had collected throughout her years. I think she surprised herself in the fact that could acquire things she never thought she could. But she was determined and she did acquire some lovely things, that were once a dream and to them safe she tucked them away, never to be used by her. I remember the many conversations we would have as I rambled through her treasures. She would sometimes share dreams she had when she was my age. At first, I was surprised that she, my grandmother had dreams that had nothing to do with the life she now lived. Those moments allowed me to see her in an exciting different light then how I had always seen her. She was more than just a grandmother, she was grand as a person

Looking back, I am grateful to have known her as a woman as well as a grandmother. It allows me to better understand the woman I am in all the roles I play in life. Her disappointments and lack of perceived and real opportunities prevented her from stepping fully into what she already had hidden away.

I was in my 20’s when she told me on one of my visits that I could have her chest and everything in it that I wanted. I was honored and speechless by her gift. What I understand now is what she did not see for herself, she somehow saw in me. I must admit in my journey, at one point I almost forgot I had dreams. One day circumstance allowed me to see that now was the time to open my chest and reveal all my hidden treasures. The bounty of gifts that are a part of me that I was born to share.

All of us have gifts that we must not keep hidden away. “Saffire” taught me so much and gave me even more. “Saffire,” Mother Zelma, my grandmother taught me that my dreams are worth exposing and using. They do no good hidden away. We must all remember that you live your dreams by sharing your dreams. Dream on!


Regina Gale

regina-gale-authorMarch is Women’s Month. Much of the accolades go to names of women who have recognition due to celebrity, civic or professional status. This is good. All women should be recognized for the outstanding accomplishments the have made as women. Many times in the past, numbers of women have not received credit for the contributions they have made, sometimes at great sacrifice to themselves.

I was fortunate to kick off the month with a poetry reading where I emphasized that it was Women’s Month. Women need women in their lives almost as much as they need water to drink so that they stay hydrated and refreshed.

Personally, I think that the most important women that each of us should celebrate are the ones that have touched our lives intimately. The women who have poured knowledge into us. The women who always give us hope and a bit of understanding when we needed it most. The women who have shown as through example how one survives the trials one may face in life. The women who were, and are willing and ready to hold your hand when lonely and confused. The women who pushed you forward and gave you the type of support that led you to knock down a barrier that had been holding you back. The women who celebrate you as a woman.

All women have been touched by someone. Sometimes we can’t see the importance of the interaction until many years later. I’d like to share a relationship that started in 1985 that I still cherish today.

In 1985, I got married and moved to Newark, California. This was the first time in my life that I would live somewhere that I had no family or ties to anyone except the man I was to marry. My aunt reached out to a woman she had met at a Teachers convention years before and they exchanged Christmas cards over the years. They were both educators. She called Jean, who lived in Newark and asked her to “watch over my child.” My aunt was like a second mother to me, and I am so grateful that she cared enough to reach out for me.

About a month after I had made the move to Northern California, my doorbell rang. I opened the door and was greeted graciously and lovingly by this little woman so full of energy. She told me that Aunt Verna had called her and sent her to me. She came prepared. I could not help but notice that she had placed bags and boxes of goodies and material on my doorstep, as I helped bring in the unknown treasures. We sat down for tea (she loves a good cup of tea) and she gave me her heart. That was the beginning of our relationship which has blossomed over 32 years

Jean is one of the strongest most interesting women I know. Her life not always easy, but she always made it work. Jean has a way of bringing out the best in those around her and has a giving spirit. Just the mention of her name be it from a past student, a local politician or one of the many people involved in civic and social organizations will let you know she is a gift to the community of mankind.

My blessing was the fact her bond with another woman, my aunt, allowed me to establish a relationship that I consider as close as family, and is as precious as if it were a blood relationship. I remember going over her house through the years and she would have pictures of my child on the mantle along with her grandchildren. I became her surrogate child.

My mother, my aunt and so many of the women who were my “sheroes” and life teachers and supporters are gone. It has been 32 years since Jean “came a calling” and is still in my life although I now reside in North Carolina. We have a bond of love and respect that will never be broken.

I encourage you to let the women in your life know how they contribute to your life while you can. Women need women and although we should celebrate that every day, we all understand that life keeps us rather busy so at once a year in March we should take a pause and make a list of those who have touched our lives.

Always in love,

Regina Gale

With February being the month of love I would like to express some loving thoughts that come from my heart. Being a “romantic type” the idea of love has always held a magical place in my life starting from the time I was very young.

Reading fairy tales that had a prince rescuing the lovely maiden, whisking her off and the two of them living happily ever after was how I wanted love to be for me. In my early relationships that was what I thought I was searching for. I was caught up in the feeling of love, not having a true understanding of what makes a love a true love.

True love is not about a feeling…it is about commitment. Commitment to yourself and to those you love. Love has been studied extensively and has been conveniently broken down into four categories.

“Agape Love” is unconditional love. The Thayer Lexicon description of agape says “to take pleasure in the thing, prize it above all other things, be unwilling to abandon it or do without it.” It is a mature sacrificial love easily recognized by example as one parents possess for their children. Loving someone as they are, perfectly imperfect.

“Philia” is an affectionate and warm relationship, a friendship. This love stems from personal inclinations, shared interest and ideas. It is sometimes referred to as brotherly love.

“Storge” is family and community love. It is a love that displays a physical and demonstrative show of affection.

is a physical romantic love. It is a state of the heart that leads to deep intimacy in a relationship.

The best and most complete descriptions I know of love states, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” This passage can be found in the Bible. I Corinthians 13: 4-7.

Imagine what our love life would be if we consciously showed love as it should be, deliberate and purposeful. The richness of our relationships would be so great with our friends, families and soul mates. Love always leads to love.

In my quest to have loving relationships on every level I recognize that I must be committed to the intention of that from myself. I also reap the reward of having so much more love to give. In love, the more love you give, the more love you have to give. The love well never runs dry.

The hiccups will be the fact that everyone is not open to receive love easily or comfortably. Although each baby is born with the natural ability to love and be loved, when acts that are not loving are the examples modeled in life one can become jaded in love. Some become afraid to love.

The thought of loving and not being loved back can indeed be scary. The best one can do is use discernment and decide if you are being treated in a loving manner. Every person must pay attention to how another person treats you. Are they kind, are they patient, do they encourage you, are they truthful to you?

Love is a spiritual personal emotion and sometimes the spirits may not connect but our loving nature should always be present. When it is, you will be able to see the seeds of love that have been planted blossom into a beautiful thing. Spring is right around the corner.

Always, Regina Gale

What I love about entering a new year, especially this year of 2017 is the feeling of a renewed energy. The sense that one can start again. When I say start again, I don’t necessarily mean start all over again, I mean you and I can pause and do an assessment of ourselves. We can review our lives and see what is working and what is not working and consciously begin to implement changes that will make this new year, 2017, our year.

When we intentionally focus on improving an area of our life that means something to us, the quality of our lives improves. At times, we get caught up with just living and doing. Being busy, we often forget to evaluate what we are creating with the choices we are making. The choices that we make are the ones that ensure our ability to experience great relationships. Doors will open to fulfilling opportunities, quality of time spent with friends and family will increase, examples of how to go about creating happy lives will be modeled to children. Meaningful things happen when we act with intention.

I openly share with you my choice and decision to pick a word that would embody the spirit and actions I am committing to this year. My word for 2017 is “LOVE.” I cannot think of any other word that means as much to me at this stage in my life. In fact, it has always been an important part of my life although I have not always been intentional in how it manifested in my life.

Love and participating in things I love makes me feel good. It puts me in a place of joy and I miraculously find I have more than enough joy to share with others when love is leading the way. That joy tends to have positive effects on others, many far removed from me. It is so easy to share kind words, smile as others pass by, stop to help someone who needs a hand, make a quick phone call to say to an acquaintance who could become a friend. Love and what flows from actions of love are so powerful yet so simple to share.

After I picked the word “LOVE” I happened to find a beautifully framed picture that had the

quote “Let all that you do be done in LOVE.” What a potent idea. It is on my wall so I can see it every morning before I begin my day.

As I sit here writing about living life from a perspective of love with intention in 2017, a song from my childhood keeps running through my head. The Beatles, one of the most popular groups in the world in the 1060’s (yes I am old school) had a song called “All You Need Is Love” also known as “Love, Love, Love.” The Lyrics are simple but powerful. John Lennon and Paul McCartney wrote this song after a request was made for a song that would be understood by people of all nations. The song was played for the first time in the first Worldwide TV special in 1967, called “Our World.” This song reflected the thoughts and hopes of the youth at the time.

Today, this song still seems to reflect a desire for many people, young and old.

What if “we the people” lived intentionally in love with love in our hearts? Perhaps empathy would be present when facing individuals outside our immediate circle of family and friends. Perhaps “we as people” would be more inclined to care about the health and welfare of all the people. Perhaps we would fight to make sure everyone is treated fairly and with dignity. Perhaps we would all be happier, because we each would have more love in our hearts to give away. Love, love, love…all we need is love. Enjoy the lyrics to this song.

Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.

There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done.
Nothing you can sing that can’t be sung.
Nothing you can say, but you can learn
How to play the game
It’s easy.
Nothing you can make that can’t be made.
No one you can save that can’t be saved.
Nothing you can do, but you can learn
How to be you in time
It’s easy.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love. Love is all you need.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love. Love is all you need.

There’s nothing you can know that isn’t known.
Nothing you can see that isn’t shown.
There’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where
You’re meant to be
It’s easy.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love. Love is all you need.
All you need is love. (All together now).
All you need is love. (Everybody).
All you need is love, love. Love is all you need.
Love is all you need.
Love is all you need.

With the chill in the air and the possibility of snow and maybe even ice this season, it serves as a prelude to our anticipation of a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. This is the season for warm and generous hearts. A season where one’s well-being will of interest to others and perhaps open the door to extend some joy.

For me, this time of year serves as a reminder of some of the most magical moments, opportunities and memories in my life.  Events that happened as a child remain fresh in my mind. These memories will be with me forever.

I grew up in El Paso, Texas where every year, a huge Christmas Star would light up Mount Franklin. It was a beautiful and magnificent site…especially to a child. This star could be seen 100 miles away in the air. Depending where you lived in the city, most could see it just by walking out of their front door and casting their eyes in the direction of the mountains at night.

I remember being 10 years old, getting in the car for a family outing. We were going to go look at the beautifully decorated houses all over the city. Daddy surprised us by driving “the kids” to Mount Franklin so we could get as close as possible to this huge star that we would look at every night. Talk about a magical moment. Even as an adult when I would return to Texas for the holidays, my heart would begin to race as we neared El Paso in the airplane. I would sit in anticipation for that moment when I would catch that first glimpse of that magical star illuminating the dark night. I would become so very excited. I would know then that I was almost home and the festivities of the family holiday would be on.

The opportunities to share and care for others was magnified at Christmas. My mother seemed to be baking all the time, she was a fantastic cook. Mom would make pans of homemade cinnamon rolls, loaves of her special “melt in your mouth, pass me another” bread and rolls, sweet potato pies and the best tea cakes you ever tasted.

Our job, the children, “her elves” would be to hand deliver the packages on the doorsteps to friends, acquaintances and those who may not have. The gratitude we received from the recipients was by far the best gift one could be given. They joy of seeing people’s faces light up when they received one of mom’s homemade gifts baked with love. Little did I know then, that for some that was the only gift they may receive during the holiday season. It felt good to fed the heart with food.

Along the way, we, the elves, her children had other opportunities to serve. We were always encouraged or volunteered to participate in the Christmas Program(s) at church, singing, reciting poetry and even acting in the “Christmas Play.” We would even go “a wassailing,” singing Christmas songs from house to house in the neighborhood…in the cold, bundled up, spreading joy, knowing that when we got home, mom would have hot chocolate with marshmallows and lots of cookies for anyone who showed up.

These memories are so very sweet, but the fondest memories I have are the times we spent together making decorations and gifts for each other.  Once the Christmas tree was in the house, the popping of lots of popcorn would begin. Alongside my brothers and sisters, we would make strings of popcorn to go on the tree…although we seemed to eat as much popcorn as we would string. When we were finished with that task, we would begin to make popcorn balls. My mother would make the candy coating and caramel for the popcorn and pour into various huge bowls filled with popcorn. We had to form the balls quickly before the candy coating hardened. It became a game to see who could make the roundest balls the fastest. We would enjoy eating the popcorn balls throughout the holidays. For many years this was an ongoing tradition.

We were encouraged to consider making gifts as well as purchase them. Mom said gifts should always be personal and meaningful. I still have a quilt she made me so many years ago. I also “believe” I am the only one she shared one of her secret recipes with. Priceless memories.  

I remember a holiday in my early 20’s when I was strapped for cash so I had to be creative in my giving. I gave my brother-in-law Chuck an IOU for a year supply of homemade cookies. Once a month I delivered a freshly made batch of cookies to him. I would get joy from his just being excited to see what kind of cookies they would be each month I delivered them. I remember good I felt when he told me that this monthly delivery of homemade cookies was one of the best gifts he ever got…my sister, his wife also agreed as she nibbled on a cookie. Good memories that will last forever.

As I sit here writing I realize that most of the Moments, Opportunities and Memories were instigated by my mother…mom. Mom had such a great influence on me and so many others. As a mom, I too, much like you tried to give my child moments, opportunities and memories that will serve him when he is as old and older than I am now.

As you reflect on your past holiday experiences, it will be marked with your own moments, opportunities and memories. Full of love.

When I moved to Hillsborough in 2010 I had no idea what a wonderful community I was moving into. In fact, being from another state I had never heard of Hillsborough, North Carolina. As I searched Durham County and Orange County for the ideal community in which I would call home, Hillsborough won me over. In fact, before I even saw the house I would call home I felt like this was the place I was supposed to be.

My initial impression was the hometown feel Hillsborough radiates.  The vibe felt right to me. I remember driving through downtown Hillsborough and just enjoying the ride, it was peaceful and pleasant. It of reminded me of “The Andy Griffith Show” and” Mayberry R.F. D” which were two of my favorite shows when I was very young.  I was thrilled the first time I walked around taking time to discover local businesses such as “Purple Crow Books” “Dual Supply Co” and a “Cup-A-Joe” along with the many outstanding restaurants that give Hillsborough its unique flavor.

I believe the biggest thrill for me was to find out that there are places I can buy freshly laid eggs, should I want to. It reminded me of some fond times when I was a child. My grandmother had chickens in her back yard when I was young. Whenever I would spend the night at her house, I could not wait till early morning when I would excitedly to go to the chicken coop and help collect freshly laid eggs. A few of the chickens always produced eggs with double yolks. I still get excited whenever I get an egg that happens to have a double yolk. Who would have thought just buying a fresh egg would illicit such fond memories.

The greatest surprise came when I found out that Hillsborough is known as a creative hot spot and treasure in North Carolina. Once I began to hear and read about Hillsborough’s history, I found that this small community is rich artist, musicians and authors. I swear it must be something in the air because I have found that even my own creativity has evolved to a new dimension since I have lived here. I was personally thrilled to meet and chat with our own Anna Jean Mayhew, who wrote a fabulous book titled “The Dry Grass of August.”

In the summertime “Last Fridays” is  fun time to our community. I still remember one night where the band music was so good that it seemed like everyone was dancing and singing nonstop until the last song was played. The streets were jam packed, but everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.  Every age group was represented. What I remember most was the harmony of a community that was in sync with one another. It felt good.

I would be negligent if I did not mention that sometimes strange incidents do occur in Hillsborough. One morning I was driving to town down one of our many two lane roads. There was an unusual number of cars creeping along in front of me. It reminded me of being stuck on a freeway in a large city where it is bumper to bumper traffic. This traffic backup was quite unusual, so I looked as far ahead as I could to determine what was going on. I noticed that there was a tractor about 12 cars in front of me. I know that tractors do not move that fast and this one was probably going at top speed, which could not have been more than 20 miles per hour. It was funny to me and I patiently creeped down the road.

When I finally arrived at the Village Diner for a Toastmaster meeting I began sharing this recent road experience with the members. All of a sudden everyone started smiling, then laughing and began pointing to the window which was behind me. Confused, I wondered what I had said that would cause this reaction. I turned and looked out the window and a tractor had just pulled into the parking lot, parked and the driver hopped off to come into the diner for lunch. Now that was funny. Only in Hillsborough will I ever see this.

I like this quaint little town and I am thankful for all the wonderful people that make up Hillsborough. To me Hillsborough is a piece of heaven where calm and neighborly familiarity is very much the norm.

Have a wonderful day!

Regina Gale is a Author, Poet and Speaker   She currently serves as Director of Communications for the Friends of  North Carolina Public Libraries. Her book titled “Sometimes He Buys Me Grapes” has just been released. It is “A Memoir” about the song and dance of a woman’s life. You can contact Regina Gale at

Eighteen years old is the magic age for most teenagers. It is the moment that they have been waiting for. As parents, there are adjustments that must be made even if they continue to depend on you financially. Therefore, having a conversation with your child about the following three topics is really important.

  1. Medical issues are private between your child and their practitioner. At eighteen, you are no longer the legal representative unless the child grants you that right. Under the 2010 U.S. Health Reform Act, your child can continue to be covered under your insurance policy until the age of twenty-six.
  2. Finances are a private matter unless you have a joint account with your child. No bank or college will give you any information regarding your child’s private account unless you have been granted this privilege in writing. Bottom line, make sure your child understands that the money
    tree has limits and they need to know how to work within the established limits.
  3. Grades and Academic records are also private. It does not matter if you are paying the bills. You will not have access to your child’s grades.

Don’t fret because you wanted an independent child. With your support, they are well on their way.