HaPPY HANUKKAH, MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY KWANZAA 

from your Mountain Views News Family! 

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 24, 2022 
From all of us at CENTURY 21 Village Realty, we wish you a safe and happy Holiday Season!
VOLUME 16 NO. 52VOLUME 16 NO. 52 
webbmartingroup.com 
real estate 
IN ESCROW 
Listed for $859,000 | 4921York.com 
4921 York Boulevard | Highland Park 
2 Beds | 2 Baths | 1,472 sqft | 5,208 sqft Lot 
Warmest wishes for a 
holiday season full of 
peace, joy, and love. 
Jan Greteman 626.975.4033 
lic #01943630 
Judy Webb-Martin 626.688.2273 
lic #00541631 
Katie Orth 626.688.0418 
lic #00942500 
Artist Sonny Salsbury created this painting depicting snow in Sierra Madre at Christmas. His caption, “Wouldn’t It Be 
Nice?” reflects the sentiments of many a child and adult alike. Salsbury is also a Grammy nominated musician who was 
born in Pasadena. He is the brother of local businesswoman Judith Brandley, owner of Leonora Moss in Sierra Madre.
Imagine Snow In Sierra Madre For Christmas! 
THE CITY OF ANGELS 
By Craig Haikola 
"A true angel is always looking out for others and 
sharing the kindness of Heaven with earth." 
The sidewalks of Chicago were dirty that day,
just as they exist most every day of the summer. 
My father and I were strolling down a busy sec-
tion of city, as we both stepped over an old tar-
nished penny. I suppose no one had given much 
thought about the penny, and certainly not 
enough to kneel down to insert a worthless cop-
per piece into their pocket. I do not know why 
my father spoke. Maybe it was one of those per-
sonal thoughts he was asking himself out loud, 
maybe he want me to think about the value of 
money and that even a penny contained worth 
as it was earned by another person’s work, or 
maybe it was a combination of many things. “I 
do not know if I would reach down to pick up adime,” he mysteriously spoke into the air. There 
was nothing more he added, and I noticed an 
expression of disappointment in his face. I did 
not argue with his thinking. The sidewalk was 
trampled by shoes, and a full sterilization would 
be required for any object one dared to touch. 
The poignant pen of William Shakespeare fa-
mously wrote, “The eyes are the window to your 
soul.” We habitually forget our conversations 
with people, but when we meet a unique pair 
of eyes, we seem to remember them. One of the 
most decorated covers of National Geographic is 
of a young nomadic girl with her deeply curious 
eyes. Without a single word, her powerful storyis compellingly spoken. 
I have always been interested in knowing where 
angels are physically found, for certainly, they 
are all around us. During the holiday season, it 
is part of the Christmas story. An angel visits 
Mary and Joseph, and as the shepherds are tend-
ing their flocks by night, down into their camp 
enter the angels, announcing the birth of Jesus. 
“The Good Book” is filled with stories of angels, 
and there are times when angels are described as 
walking amongst us, observing our deeds. That 
echoes true to me, for the one aspect foreign to 
an angel of Heaven would be an imperfect world 
such as ours. Since we, and the visiting angels 
to Earth, have an important partnership in the 
work of Heaven. 
It is a fascinating idea to imagine that angels 
learn something from us, and in certain circum-
stances, are given the power to assist. There are 
many times I have been in need of help. I have 
often thought God stationed a personal angel 
over me to observe the assistance and protection 
I required. The day will arrive when we shall all 
know the physical characteristics of an angel, but 
until that eternal moment of time, I do believe it 
is in the eyes. 
I was both blessed and cursed to have a job where 
I could arrive in the early hours of the morning. 
Los Angeles is almost empty at 5:00 a.m., and 
one encounters a different face of the city at that 
time of the day. The automobile traffic is light, 
the sidewalks are vacant, and the hustle and bus-
tle of society is still slumbering in bed. I was only 
a couple of blocks away from work as I exited the 
freeway. A gentle looking homeless man was off 
the curb, in the street. I could see an emptiness 
in his face, as though life and all of its joy and 
meaning were erased, and what remained were 
the great burdens carried alone without family 
or love. As I sat at the red light, I watched as he 
stared off into an invisible place and time that I 
could not fully see, where the hardships of life 
actively haunted him. 
The place he was occupying in the street, the tat-
tered clothes that hung from his shoulders, the 
unshaven face of stubble, compelled me to think 
of him in a certain way, but even amongst the 
darkness of that winter morning, with only adim light above, I was overcome by the bright 
and inviting light that radiated out from his eyes. 
They made me to think of Heaven. So I won-
dered, just maybe, this is an angel. I could not 
keep my mind off him that day, and I am sure I 
was supposed to say something to him – even if 
it was just a kind word to let him know that the 
world cared. I did none of that, much like the old 
penny of the street, so tarnished and dirty. I just 
“stepped past” him and kept driving. 
Many years later, upon a mouse-like quiet morn-
ing, I motored through Los Angeles in those 
early hours when the moon was still in sight. My 
office was in a different location now, so it altered 
my drive from freeway to the city streets. The 
windows of the donut shops and coffee houses 
had their usual suspects clinging to their cups of 
caffeine. 
I was five minutes past Dodgers stadium as I 
turned in the direction of Santa Monica and the 
mid-city Los Angeles area where I worked. It was 
a pleasant and fairly straight ahead drive from 
here, and soon, I would be settling into my of-
fice chair. I had developed an odd habit of tim-
ing each of my trips going into work, and on 
some miraculous mornings, a vast succession of 
lights would flip to green as I traveled in some 
engineering feat that turned the city of stop-and-
go into a journey down a country road. It was 
not uncommon, since the street I traveled on 
had two lanes on each side, to have another car 
glued to my door for several miles as we galloped 
through the city as one. So it was on this morn-
ing, block after block we went. 
I was out in front for a few yards, and then 
several blocks later, (Continued pg. 2) 
‘The Spirit of The Season‘The Spirit of The Season 
SIERRA 
MADRE BEST 
DECORATED 
HOMES....PG. 2 
SIERRA MADRE 
CANDLELIGHT WALK 
Photos by Dirk Bolle 
On Sunday, the annual Sierra Madre holiday 
tradition returned - the candlelight walk from 
St. Rita Church to the Nativity Scene in Kerst-
ing Court. 
Led by Monsignor Michael Bamberger, two 
youthful participants carried the Baby Jesus to 
the manger. 
Hundreds made the trek down Baldwin Ave. 
The event has always attracted a multi-denom-
inational, multi-cultural audience and displays 
the very best of Sierra Madre where all differ-
ences are set aside to celebrate the holidays.