It was a time of finding the perfect gift for the person! Getting the house ready and planning a meal (we had the biggest house, so Christmas was celebrated at our home!)
Does any of this have anything to do with Christmas? Sadly, it has become the normal and a quick visit to a church on Christmas Eve to satisfy the guilt of what we celebrate most at Christmas!
But about 20 years ago, it got easier. I worked with a lady that had all presents bought and wrapped by Thanksgiving, then she could enjoy the holidays.
What does enjoying the holidays mean to you? Celebrating the birth of my Savior, that is what it means to me.....and the following image had a great part of putting Jesus back at the center of my Christmas!
I'm lucky, I had loving Christian parents and even though there weren't a lot of presents, Christmas was great! Hear below are two of my many favorite Christmas memories of Christmas pasts!
My mom and dad were wonderful Christian parents. Mom was the stay-at-home mother, and dad was the sole financial supporter. Dad finished concrete for a living. Living in St. Louis, that meant that he was lucky if he got 10 months of work in for the 12 month year. Luckily, his profession had a strong union and he got ‘vacation stamps’ for every hour her worked and unemployment in the winter, when there was no work. Mom was in charge of paying the bills and stretching 9 or 10 months worth of pay over 12 months. There were three of us girls, and dad wanted all his girls to go to college. In the months of plenty (lots of summertime overtime) we lived modestly, so there would be money in times of little. (Both coming from farm families, this must have been born in!)
We got a few little presents, usually clothes for Barbie and tights (like pantyhose, but thicker and in colors and kept our legs warm) and then one nice new toy. Be the middle daughter, I always got hand-me-downs—clothes, toys and bikes. One year I wanted a new (not just new to me—but new) bike. They had just come out with skinny wheels and sleek bikes, and I wanted one.
Mom and dad had a way of making Christmas exciting, but that Christmas morning, when I went down the hall and saw there was no bike in front of the tree, I was very disappointed, but faked it as well as I could. We all took turns opening one present at a time, and thanking each other for the gift. I remember that after all the presents seemed to have been opened, daddy reached underneath the tree skirt and there was a small flat box with my name on it. I open it, and there was a note, telling me to go to the bathtub. Our shower curtain was never closed, but this morning it was! I threw back the curtain, expecting to see my new bike, and there was an envelope, with a note in it, telling me to go to the back porch, so I tore down the hall, through the dining room, through the kitchen and throwing open the back door, and there on the table, another box! I opened it and surprise, another note, telling me to proceed to the basement and to look behind the furnace! As my mother told me to be careful going down the steps, I flew down the step and went behind the furnace, and low and behold, another note! It said to go to the bathroom—what—been there! So, a little slower, I went back upstairs, through the kitchen, through the dining room, down the hall, into the bath room, and to my surprise, the shower curtain was closed again. I pull the curtain back, and there with a big bow (made out of tissue paper) was a bright shiny black, skinny tired new bike!
The bike has probably rusted away many years ago, but the fun my parents put into Christmas lives on forever!
Same great parents and another Christmas. My parents only left us once a year—the bowling banquet. Our church had a bowling league and it was a very small bowling alley with only 12 lanes, and our church took it over every Tuesday night. We normally had to take our homework down to the alley and do our homework there. Mom and dad rented the shoes and borrowed the alleys bowling balls. Most couples had their own, but not my folks.
Dad wrapped moms’ present early that year. A completely square small box about 4x4x4 and very heavy. None of us girls knew what it was! It was the game for the next 6 weeks—guessing what was in the box and what would daddy have gotten mother for Christmas.
So Christmas morning comes and daddy makes a quick trip downstairs and sneaks back upstairs, just as mom is opening her present. She tears the paper off and it’s a box of shotgun shell! What’s this we asked and dad, standing behind mom lays a brand new bowling bag, with an undrilled bowling ball in it and a gift certificate for bowling shoes! Mom cried and dad smiled from ear to ear! It was a great Christmas, and again, the present is long gone (mom’s going to be 88 in January) but the fond memory of the way the gift was given lives on in my mind forever!
This is what I want to leave my daughter! When the presents are long gone, I want the memories to bring a smile and maybe a little tear of joy, for what a great feeling it puts in her heart!
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