One of the beauties of Christmas is that it inspires thoughts about family and friends who once shared the season with us and filled our hearts with warm memories. We fondly remember our family traditions and sweet moments that made the season special. It’s a sentimental season that carries its own joys and perhaps even sorrows. For the month of December, I thought I’d share some stories and memories of my own. If you have one you’d like to share with me, I’d love to hear from you. Memories are gifts of Christmas.
When I was a young girl, we lived on a dirt road, in an old house that only had a coal stove in the cellar for heat. The windows would rattle through the winter months as the cold air made its way through the house. Dad would frame the windows with plastic sheets to help keep his little flock a bit warmer, and mom would keep the oven going making Christmas cookies and steamy soup. My sisters and I would dream of Christmas morning as we strung popcorn to hang on the tree. Dad always dragged in a freshly cut tree from the woods right next to our house. It smelled like evergreen goodness for weeks. It may not have been “Little House on the Prairie,” but it was close!
I remember one wintry year when we’d had piles of snow, and it was difficult to get a car up the hill we lived on. As a five-year-old, I worried about whether Santa could even manage to get to our house. After all, I wasn’t sure he even knew where we lived. I kept my worries to myself, while mom continued to bake red and white candy cane cookies and chocolate fudge. She was particularly good at making fudge. My sisters and I sang in the choir at the church and had to walk down the hill to get there. My older sister did her best to keep me warm as we trudged along, quite sure we’d all freeze to death.
When the big day finally came, it wasn’t the kids who jumped up in the early morning, scrambling to get to the Christmas tree. It was mom! She couldn’t wait to start Christmas because she was so excited about what she knew was under the tree. Wrapped in our big blankets, we’d head to the tree and wait with anticipation. We did our stockings first, which was probably one of dad’s socks. There was always an orange, some candy, and a new color book and crayons. There might even be an extra surprise or two, like a slinky or a yo-yo. When the stockings were done, mom would hand out the first gift and off we’d go…new pajamas, check! New slippers, good! It was generally the time of year when we got a few very practical socks and underwear kinds of things. But then, it wasn’t over! At last, the present that had excited my mother so much she couldn’t wait till morning. She had gotten some soft, leggy dancing dolls about my same height. They had loops on their feet that we could put over our socks and dance with them. We turned on the music and danced around the living room. It was a moment that made everybody laugh. Of course, we then pretended we were dolls and danced on top of my dad’s feet. Sweet memory!
As it turned out the snow was so deep that year, my aunt and uncle couldn’t get their car up our hill to come to dinner, but that didn’t stop them. They crunched through the deep snow, bearing new baby dolls for little girls and frilly purses to delight us. Despite the snow, it was one of our warmest Christmas’s ever!
That sweet memory blesses my life every Christmas. May God bless you as you unwrap some memories of your own this year!
Joy to the world!