Thanks to Jan of Danville, CA
The Just Moved class I took after my most recent move saved me! Part of what I learned and tried to do for my kids, was just to create a comfortable, familiar, happy home for them. For my kids, that means baking. I loved these cookies at that time; when you have boxes all over and not a lot of time. These cookies have 4 ingredients, and the kids can help. Something about baked goods in the oven says "home." God Bless!

Mom's Mom Fritch's Peanut Butter Cookies

1 cup peanut butter, creamy or chunky
x (such as Skippy, NOT natural or lowfat style)
1 cup sugar
1 large egg
1 tsp baking soda

Preheat oven to 350.
Lightly grease or spray baking sheets.
Beat together peanut butter and sugar.
Add egg and baking soda until combined well.

Roll dough into balls.
On baking sheet, place balls about one inch apart.
With fork tines, slightly flatten balls, And,
Create a crosshatch pattern on cookie top.*

Bake cookies on the center rack about 10 minutes.
Cookies should be puffed and golden.
Cool cookies on baking sheets for 2 minutes.
Transfer cookies to racks and cool completely.

Makes about 60 cookies.
Store in airtight container for up to 5 days.

*To create a crosshatch pattern: angle fork from top left of cookie and lightly pull downward to bottom right. Repeat by angling fork from top right of cookie and lightly pulling downward to bottom left. An X pattern is created.

EMAIL your quick & easy recipe!

Poem written by James M. Schmidt in 1986

Merry Christmas, My Friend

T’was the night before Christmas, he lived all alone, In a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney, with presents to give and to see just who in this home did live.

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see, no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree. No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand, On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind, a sobering thought soon came to my mind. For this house was different, unlike any I’d seen. This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

I’d heard stories about them; I had to see more, so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door. And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone, curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene, Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine. Was this the hero, of who I’d just read? Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan. I soon understood, this was more than a man. For I realized the families that I saw that night, owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.

Soon around the Nation, the children would play, and grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day. They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year, because of Marines like this one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone, on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home. Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye. I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice, “Santa, don’t cry, this life is my choice. I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more. My life is my God, my country, my Corps.”

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep, I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.

I watched him for hours, so silent and still. I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill. So I took off my jacket, the one made of red, and covered this Marine from his toes to his head. Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold, with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold. And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride, and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.

I didn’t want to leave him so quiet in the night, this guardian of honor so willing to fight. But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure, said, “Carry on, Santa, it’s Christmas Day, all secure.” One look at my watch and I knew he was right, Merry Christmas, my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.

A special Merry Christmas and thank you to our U.S. service men and women.

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