Christmas Memories

Christmas is a celebration of family.  The birth of God's child and the promise of salvation for all His people.  When Jesus was born, He created a family: a family of Joseph, Mary and Jesus and a family of God's children.

As a mother, I feel my main responsibility at Christmas is to create memories for my family.  I prefer they be happy memories, but sometimes it doesn't work that way.

Two years ago in Canton, Georgia, a rare event occurred- we had a white Christmas.  Thick, fluffy flakes fell quietly all day creating an unforgettable winter wonderland in our own backyard.   Unfortunately, if you asked Anabel about that Christmas, she'd reply, "It was awful.  I was sick all week with pneumonia."  Many things are beyond a mother's control and occasionally, even Mother Nature fails to impress.

When I was a child, my brother desperately wanted a dirt bike.  Like Ralphie in A Christmas Story, he tried every way he could think of to obtain that bike. He left copies of Dirt Bike magazine in conspicuous places around the house.  He talked about places he could ride nearby- how helpful he would be taking the trails to the store to pick up milk or a loaf of bread.  Each mention triggered the same response: "No way, it's too dangerous," much like Ralphie's constantly heard refrain, "You'll shoot your eye out!"  My little brother's last ditch effort was to ask Santa and felt certain his request would be granted.  On Christmas morning, he opened his circa 1977 loot, which ironically contained an Evel Knevel doll and ramp, but no dirt bike appeared.  Opening the last present, he pulled out a silver spiraled coil and his face lit up.  Looking at this item, his nine-year-old-wishful-thinking mind saw shocks for a dirt bike.  The note on the bag said to look on the carport for the rest of the gift and sheer joy carried him across the room.  He flung open the door to reveal... a trampoline.  The coil was a spring not a shock.

Of the many cheerful Christmases I experienced as a child, this one I remember the most vividly.  Why?  Was it because all the others were the same with each of us children receiving all that we asked for?  Difference does make unique memories.

Thanks to our sabbatical journey last year, we experienced an unusual Christmas.  I loved decorating with our homemade ornaments and the few distinctive travel ornaments we had gathered in cities on our journeys during the year.  Since the kids had no friends on the island, I enjoyed creating special activities for them to do in preparation for Christmas Day.  We had no family to visit last year so we reveled in the quiet day by reading aloud to our children.  We baked without rush and cooked without agenda.  We walked on the beach and wrote wishes in the sand.  I will always treasure last Christmas, but if you asked the children, they would probably say, "Last Christmas was so boring!  It didn't feel like Christmas at all."  Oh well, not every Christmas is perfect, but I bet they'll always remember it.

Visit my posts on our unusual Christmas last year:

A Very Santa Weekend

Going Coastal for Christmas

Keeping the Kids Busy While Waiting for the Big Guy

Which Christmas do you remember the most?  Why? (This is not part of a psychological study.  I'm just curious...)