It was a day of solemn vows, a day of good eating, a day of memories sweet and pure, a day of uniting as a family.”
–R.O. Lane (Jake McClure)
“For the grace of God has appeared, with salvation for all people.”
“For the grace of God has appeared, with salvation for all people.”
–Titus 2:11 (HCSB)
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“Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.”
–Laura Ingalls Wilder
Memories! Christmas is for memories. All kinds, some are good, some not so good, but they are part of us, and they are part of our Christmases past. We often do not use memories rightly. We moan, get depressed, stress and even anxieties may arise because of improperly thinking of memories. To my Mom, Christmas was the grandest time of the year. She loved Christmas. Now I could get all snibby-eyed thinking of Mom and that she is no longer with us on this earth, but that would do her memory wrong. I choose to think of how she loved Christmas. She would giggle and smile. She would remind us that back in the Depression all she received for Christmas was a popcorn ball, but she was thankful for the blessings she was able to share with her family now.
Most of the time, in Colorado when I grew up, we had a white Christmas. Oh, the snow is so delightful, and beautiful, and pristine when it is falling to blanket the earth in its splendor. Now, I could go into a tirade of how cold it was, how the roads were icy. I could bring to mind how ugly and dirty snow looks after it’s been on the ground, blackened by exhaust. How the pristine beauty doesn’t last long because of children out playing in it, making trails to play an elaborate fox and geese. How the plows would come through piling the once beautiful snow into large piles. Oh, but that just led to a new game of “king on the mountain.” I wonder if they can play that in school these days for recess. Hmmm, I wonder if they even have recess when it’s snowing or there’s snow on the ground. Hmmm, I wonder if they even have school or if it’s a “snow day.”
One thing that is vivid are the many Christmas dinners with family and friends. Yes, many of them have blended together by this time in my life and mind, but I can still pick out several instances. The food laid out on the table, and I can remember the first time I got to sit at the table with the adults. Turkey and dressing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, did I mention dressing for in the Adkisson clan more dressing was eaten than turkey, or at least I recall my Aunt Bern declaring that to be the case. The numerous cookies and pies–oh my! I would have dinner with my Dad’s side of the family, then go to the Jones’ side for another fancy meal. There with the cousins we would display our new gifts, and obey the custom of opening presents–the youngest first, and so on. I can remember my Grandpa Jones falling asleep waiting for his turn for there were a number of us.
I can’t get away without mentioning all of the Christmas programs at church. They would be considered quite “cheesy” by the standards of today. But they were fun, and all the kids had lines of Scripture to remember. From the little white Assembly of God church up on Mapleton Street, to the church in the country on Pinon Drive I can remember the programs, and especially the singing of carols. As a youth it was customary to take the church bus and go around to all the people’s homes that belonged to the church and sing carols, and boy-howdy did we sing–sing to the top of our lungs and then laugh. Afterward we’d end up at the church for hot cocoa, not hot chocolate mind you, but cocoa.
The first Christmas I was away from home I was twenty. I had been smitten by a gorgeous young lady and was spending Christmas with her and her family in Pennsylvania. By the next Christmas we would be married, and have now spent 53 of those precious holidays together. I could go on about Christmas, about the carols and the songs. Over the years I have written many “Paines” and “Echoes” regarding those in the military away from home at Christmas, writing about “I’ll Be Home for Christmas…if only in my dreams.”
Most of all, my memories revolve around the stories of the baby Jesus being born in the manger. The shepherd, angels, and wise men that visit. It became real to me that the heavenly Father sent His only begotten Son to this evil earth to be a sacrifice for our sins and redeem mankind. After all that is the true, deep, and real meaning of Christmas. Jesus coming to earth to die for my sins! Once in a while I stop and try to imagine the scene so long ago. I have also tried to think of what Christmas will be like in heaven. Time will be gone. Will it be Christmas all the time? Most likely we will not have a formal Christmas celebration, so eat your pies while you can. Enjoy the family and the celebration at the table and around the tree. One day, and I believe soon, we will be having Christmas with the “Babe” in all of His splendor and glory.
————————————-
“Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.”
–Laura Ingalls Wilder
Memories! Christmas is for memories. All kinds, some are good, some not so good, but they are part of us, and they are part of our Christmases past. We often do not use memories rightly. We moan, get depressed, stress and even anxieties may arise because of improperly thinking of memories. To my Mom, Christmas was the grandest time of the year. She loved Christmas. Now I could get all snibby-eyed thinking of Mom and that she is no longer with us on this earth, but that would do her memory wrong. I choose to think of how she loved Christmas. She would giggle and smile. She would remind us that back in the Depression all she received for Christmas was a popcorn ball, but she was thankful for the blessings she was able to share with her family now.
Most of the time, in Colorado when I grew up, we had a white Christmas. Oh, the snow is so delightful, and beautiful, and pristine when it is falling to blanket the earth in its splendor. Now, I could go into a tirade of how cold it was, how the roads were icy. I could bring to mind how ugly and dirty snow looks after it’s been on the ground, blackened by exhaust. How the pristine beauty doesn’t last long because of children out playing in it, making trails to play an elaborate fox and geese. How the plows would come through piling the once beautiful snow into large piles. Oh, but that just led to a new game of “king on the mountain.” I wonder if they can play that in school these days for recess. Hmmm, I wonder if they even have recess when it’s snowing or there’s snow on the ground. Hmmm, I wonder if they even have school or if it’s a “snow day.”
One thing that is vivid are the many Christmas dinners with family and friends. Yes, many of them have blended together by this time in my life and mind, but I can still pick out several instances. The food laid out on the table, and I can remember the first time I got to sit at the table with the adults. Turkey and dressing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, did I mention dressing for in the Adkisson clan more dressing was eaten than turkey, or at least I recall my Aunt Bern declaring that to be the case. The numerous cookies and pies–oh my! I would have dinner with my Dad’s side of the family, then go to the Jones’ side for another fancy meal. There with the cousins we would display our new gifts, and obey the custom of opening presents–the youngest first, and so on. I can remember my Grandpa Jones falling asleep waiting for his turn for there were a number of us.
I can’t get away without mentioning all of the Christmas programs at church. They would be considered quite “cheesy” by the standards of today. But they were fun, and all the kids had lines of Scripture to remember. From the little white Assembly of God church up on Mapleton Street, to the church in the country on Pinon Drive I can remember the programs, and especially the singing of carols. As a youth it was customary to take the church bus and go around to all the people’s homes that belonged to the church and sing carols, and boy-howdy did we sing–sing to the top of our lungs and then laugh. Afterward we’d end up at the church for hot cocoa, not hot chocolate mind you, but cocoa.
The first Christmas I was away from home I was twenty. I had been smitten by a gorgeous young lady and was spending Christmas with her and her family in Pennsylvania. By the next Christmas we would be married, and have now spent 53 of those precious holidays together. I could go on about Christmas, about the carols and the songs. Over the years I have written many “Paines” and “Echoes” regarding those in the military away from home at Christmas, writing about “I’ll Be Home for Christmas…if only in my dreams.”
Most of all, my memories revolve around the stories of the baby Jesus being born in the manger. The shepherd, angels, and wise men that visit. It became real to me that the heavenly Father sent His only begotten Son to this evil earth to be a sacrifice for our sins and redeem mankind. After all that is the true, deep, and real meaning of Christmas. Jesus coming to earth to die for my sins! Once in a while I stop and try to imagine the scene so long ago. I have also tried to think of what Christmas will be like in heaven. Time will be gone. Will it be Christmas all the time? Most likely we will not have a formal Christmas celebration, so eat your pies while you can. Enjoy the family and the celebration at the table and around the tree. One day, and I believe soon, we will be having Christmas with the “Babe” in all of His splendor and glory.