Christmas Memory

 

                 

While driving home the day after Gulf Shores I turned on the radio and was surprised to hear Christmas music. I had forgotten that it’s “that time of the year again”. The familiar songs and the sound of the pattering of the rain and consistent sound of my windshield wipers all blended together, and as I drove the empty straight country road, my mind began to wonder. Of course old memories began to come up right away: Christmas tends to have that effect. One memory in particular put a smile on my face. We were quite young and mom and dad left to run errands. I, being the oldest, was put in charge, as usual. And, as usual, I decided it would be fun to “surprise mom and dad when they come home” by cleaning the house, which was in quite a state of disarray as we had just put up decorations and the tree the night before. So, the four of us cleaned to the best of our abilities and with the best intentions. But that wasn’t enough! We finished with time to spare and, feeling the onset of Christmas sentimentality, we brought out some old sheets, a sheep fur, sticks, a baby doll, and some various other props. We assumed our obvious rolls with Ryan as Joseph, Anni as an angel, Steven as the “donkey” in sheep’s wool, and I, as Mary. The living room lights were turned off and the red, green, and white Christmas lights were plugged into the wall giving off a candlelight-like atmosphere. Some 91.5 Christmas music was turned on and we all hoped that it would be playing something soft and sweet for when the parents arrived. With the tree that was heavily decorated up to about five feet up in the background, we set ourselves up and patiently waited. We had planned ahead of time that when they came in, “Joseph” would walk “Mary” on the “donkey” a couple of steps and the “Angel” would say her Sunday School Christmas program piece.

                    I believe the radio was playing “O Holy Night”, when they came in, which was perfect. And, of course, mom and dad were very surprised and quite touched. It’s funny how now, as I am much older, I can see the scene a little better through their eyes and I can hardly imagine how beautiful it must have been. As I played through this memory in my head I realized how blessed I am to have been raised in such a family. I was probably only 10 at the time, making Steven 5, and we all understood the beauty and importance of Jesus in the manger. We didn’t set up a Santa Claus scene, with reindeer and elves, we wanted to act out something pure and beautiful and perfect for our parents. And, while some people hate those “same old songs every year” or the gushy sentiments and annoying family get-togethers; while some people focus on the infiltration of secular music and traditions into an old Christian holiday, I am going to be very glad and excited for Christmas this year. I can’t wait to be surrounded by lovely memories like these, and I defiantly hope to make a lot more.