Tag Archive: Memories

Your Favorite Christmas

Do you recall your favorite Christmas? It may be a Christmas gift whose memory has always remained with you. Something you hoped for that came true, or anticipation that made the realized hope even more precious.

When I was a child in Winnipeg, Manitoba, my brothers and I were eager to open our gifts. But we had to wait until Christmas morning. So every Christmas we children wakened about 5, got Mom and Dad out of bed, and were given the chance to open ONE gift of our choice. Then we had to go back to bed or play quietly until Mom and Dad were ready to get up for the day.

doll with grey eyes and brown hair
Photo by James Sutton on Pexels.com

I was a doll girl. So my favorites were the beautiful dolls my parents got for me. I’d open one, take it back to bed with me, and fall asleep holding that sweet gift until we got up later to open other gifts and enjoy the day together.

My memories also include presents I made when I was working in an inner city ministry in Los Angeles. I didn’t have much discretionary money, so made many of my gifts. One Christmas I worked for weeks on a beautiful stitchery picture for my brother and sister-in-law. I didn’t finish it before coming home to San Jose for the holiday. So Christmas Eve I stayed up ’til 4 or 5 in the morning to finish that piece! Fatigued as I was, I enjoyed giving it and seeing the pleasure it gave Arn and Carol. I also painted and fired a pirate’s head bust for my brother Mel. I was quite proud of the pirate’s facial coloring and the infusion of blush on his cheeks by the fingertip application of red chalk.

Fun memories all. And as an adult, I recall those precious times when our family gathered together to remember Jesus, the hope of all the nations. While alive, Dad always read the Christmas story from Luke 2 before we opened gifts that symbolized the greatest of all gifts–God’s love and Jesus’ sacrifice so we could be forgiven of sin, become His children, and enjoy eternal life in His presence. What joy!

She will give birth to a Son, and you are to give Him the name Jesus, because He will save His people from their sins.

Matthew 1:21

This year will be different. Don and I will be alone with Paigey on Christmas Day because of the pandemic and stay at home orders. But we won’t be alone. We’ll go to a drive-in Christmas Eve service at our church. We’ll remember Jesus, thank Him for His gifts, enjoy giving and receiving presents to and from each other, read, sleep, and enjoy a quiet day together. And we’ll zoom!

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Isaiah 9:6

Jesus, our Lord!

So what are your plans for Christmas?

“SCARY STORIES”

We sat around the table after dinner, reminiscing. I recalled the time a friend of mine scared my little brother and his friend, who were home alone. Mom and Dad had an invitation out. Before I left for a youth group sing, I wrote down the number where I could be reached. “Call me if you need anything.”

About half an hour into our evening, the phone rang at the home where we met. “That’s for me,” I said as I walked toward the telephone. Sure enough, it was little Bob.

"our protection"

“our protection”

“We’re scared,” he started out. “Mark and I are sitting on the couch with the big black scissor.”

“What are you doing?”

"Telling each other ghost stories"

“Telling each other ghost stories”

“Telling each other ghost stories.”

“Well, cut it out.”

I continued, my heart touched by the picture of these two youngsters sitting side by side with a big black scissor as their protection. That in itself was frightening.

“Do you want me to come home?”

“Well,” said Bob’s young voice, “I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

“I’ll be home in five minutes,” I responded as I pulled out my car keys. I chuckled as I told Jim what had happened and that I was heading home.

I pulled into the driveway and walked into the house to pull two little boys into my arms. I put the big scissor out of the boys’ reach, put my pj’s and long robe on and calmed them with (what else) chocolate cake and ice cream. Suddenly both boys’ eyes widened and they pointed outside. “I heard something,” one said.

“Stay right here,” I demanded. Then I took the big black scissors and went out the front door – a pathetic figure walking past the bushes brandishing this crazy tool of destruction. “Who’s out here?”

I reentered the house and the boys were jumpy. “Up there,” and they pointed to the stairway. Now I was getting scared. I slowly walked up the steps, telling the boys to stay where they were. (Why didn’t I just call the police?) As I walked past my parents’ bedroom, Jim jumped out and grabbed me from behind.

“Do you know how close you got to being stabbed by a big, dull scissor?” I asked. “Don’t you ever scare these boys again. You can scare me (yeah, right–like I’m invincible), but not them. Now YOU calm them down.”

Jim settled the boys and put them to bed.

Memories–this a fond and funny one in retrospect; some are painful; some heartwarming. But all are a part of the fabric of our lives. This one showed me my own God-given protective instinct over those I love. It also taught me something about the value of forgiveness and communication and laughter with a friend who might terrify my little brother but then spend time calming him and helping him feel secure again.

What memories do you carry?

Do they set you free or do they hold you back?