BACK IN THE DAY - Christmas!!
There was always snow, we always had a big tree, there were
always lots of presents under the tree, Santa always came and brought just what
I wanted, we ate turkey and stuffing and had lots of people over to spend the
day with us, we sang Christmas carols at school and made red and green paper
chains to decorate our classroom . . . .
The above description is called revisionist history—looking
back and seeing what we want to see.
I don’t quarrel with revisionists in general. But my looking
back on Christmas wasn’t always the rose-colored picture I painted in the first
paragraph.
Living in east central Illinois, we sometimes had snow for Christmas. When we did, it was beautiful,
covering lawns and shrubs and getting caught on tree limbs. Evergreens held out
sturdy branches to catch drifts of white stuff. But when we had a green
Christmas, there was less chance of having to be pulled out of a ditch when the
car skidded out of control.
In later years our family often lived far from “home,” so we
traveled back to Illinois for Christmas whenever possible. That meant there was
no tree at all in the place we left. But I do remember receiving presents,
wherever we happened to be on Christmas--just what I wanted or even better than
I’d dreamed about.
The Christmas tree I remember most was when I was in fifth
grade. My mom decided that year we’d have a blue tree—all the glass balls, all
the light bulbs, were blue. After those were attached, we hung tinfoil
“icicles” all over, and they turned blue in the reflected lights. I never had a
blue tree after I got married; the multi-colored light bulbs always seemed more
cheery.
I don’t recall turkey dinners. For just three of us, we had
roast chicken or maybe ham. When we went to a relative’s house, we ate whatever
they served. Later on, when I was the homemaker, we had turkey dinners for both
Thanksgiving and Christmas. They just seemed the right thing to have. With
stuffing, cranberry sauce or salad, sweet potato casserole, green bean
casserole, daiquiri salad (a frozen thing, halfway between a sweet salad and a
dessert), rolls, pies (pumpkin and apple at Thanksgiving, pumpkin and mincemeat
at Christmas).
Back in the day, we did indeed sing Christmas carols at
school. My favorite year was fourth grade, when Miss Kincaid taught us simple
two-part harmony. I fell totally in love with music that year. I learned to
read notes, both bass and treble clefs, as well as the time and key signatures,
and began to sound out the tunes to unfamiliar songs. Thanks to Miss Kincaid, I
became an alto for the rest of my life.
I suppose we made paper chains—that seems a normal things
for kids to do—but I seem to recall we cut out shapes from construction paper
and fashioned other holiday decorations for our room. Best of all, we learned
to draw simple shapes, like evergreens, to decorate notepaper.
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Last year's snow |
Christmas today is much different for me. I’m seldom
downhearted if the snow doesn’t show up in time for December 25th,
because I know anyone traveling needs good clear roads.
If my Christmas tree is small, it’s still a symbol for me of
this festive season. If I can’t have one for some reason, I enjoy the trees of
my friends and in my children’s homes.
Presents? Sure, I love getting presents. But at my age and stage
of life, receiving isn’t as important as giving. I love making things for my
family—quilts, scarves, wall hangings, baked goods, even soup!—because I know
they’ll be used, enjoyed, and appreciated. I know because they tell me so.
Holiday dinners don’t have to be lavish or covering three
tabletops. If they’re eaten with people I love and whose company I enjoy, then
they’re great meals. Memorable meals.
Nowadays I decorate less, and seldom make the decorations
that I do use. But I listen to Christmas carols on the CD player, watch movies
on the DVD player, and do some shopping to feel the excited energy of people
revving up for the holidays.
In the past ten or fifteen years, Christmas has taken on new
meanings for me—deeper meanings. My church celebrates Advent, a time of waiting
and preparing for the birth of Christ, the four Sundays prior to Christmas; we
listen to Scripture readings that speak of the end-times and point us toward
the reason for Christ’s coming in the first place—to die for us.
We also have a Christmas Day service at 9:00 AM; I’m playing
the organ for that service for the second year. Fewer people attend Christmas
Day—many because they have large crowds at their homes, and they’ve probably
come on Christmas Eve, a festive celebration indeed. But the size of the
congregation doesn’t matter—I’m blessed to be able to play the carols that have
come down to us through the centuries, as well as a few newer ones that have
become familiar, and to worship in the beauty and holiness of the season.
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Now I’ve come full circle. When I was young, my parents made
Christmas for me. Then when I had my own family, their dad and I made Christmas
for the kids. Now my children make Christmas for me.
I celebrate the joy of being connected again to my own
childhood through my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. The toys
are different, the music may be different, the movies are new and goofy (just
my opinion), but the excitement is still there.
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God bless you all this Christmastide!