I Love Christmas

(Four generations ... Neenie, Bigmama holding Molli, Mother)

I love Christmas. I love the music. I love the decorations. I love the giving and receiving of gifts. I love the food…I really love the food. I love the memories I treasure in my heart of Christmas past and the hope I cling to for Christmas future. I try with all my might to enjoy and celebrate Christmas present in such a way that would be pleasing to our Almighty God whose Son we adore.

I could probably write an entire book about all the interesting Christmas memories I have, but I will spare you that-for now. I am not easily moved to tears. I don’t like sappy movies or books. But get me started on Christmas stories, and I’ll have to admit that my eyes get a bit misty.

When I was a little girl, we lived in Iowa. It seemed that we were a million miles away from my Grandparents and the ride to get to them, which we did at some point most every Christmas, took even longer than it did in the summer. My Neenie’s house would be decorated so beautifully. I have some of those decorations now and I cherish them. Things were sort of fancy at her house, and we always got THE LECTURE about behaving, not running, no fighting…yada yada yada!

We usually stayed with Neenie and Bobo (my maternal grandparents) but would drive to Grandma and Grandpa’s house ( my paternal grandparents) to visit with them, about 30 miles away. Grandma would greet us at the door and tell us, ‘you know where you are and you know where the food is…help yourselves!’ I can remember Mother telling us (along with the above lecture) to PLEASE not act like we hadn’t eaten for weeks. But, who could help it? Grandma had fudge, divinity, rice krispies treats, potato chips, oranges, bananas, R.C. colas and Pepsi (in bottles in the refrigerator and ever so much better than what we drink today) and it was ours for the taking. If we ate it all up, more would be there the next day when we came back. It was like paradise. She kept the goodies in tins on the table and we could just go and get it. In fact, she meant it when she said to help ourselves. She was too busy to get it for us. Boy! Oh, Boy! My mouth waters today when I think about that table in her house.

Except for one year. I imagine it was the Christmas of 1962. We didn’t go home for Christmas. You see, Daddy got us up in the night and we were taken to the home of family friends. We had been so excited because Mother was expecting a baby. He (I was sure it was going to be a boy, all the other kids but me were boys…so why wouldn’t this one be, as well?) was due close to my birthday. On December 23, if my memory serves me correctly, Mother lost that baby.

When Mother came home, we got another lecture. We weren’t to make demands on her. We were to be quiet so she could rest. No fighting, fussing, running, etc. She was pale. Christmas became not the normal laughter and cheer, but rather sad.

Until…a car pulled up in the driveway. It was Bobo and Neenie. And Bigmama. Neenie’s mother. God bless her, Bigmama had on her apron and had ridden all the way to Iowa wearing it. She came in and took charge. Believe you me…she knew how to be in charge! Food was prepared. Gifts were opened. Christmas took on that magic again. We were with family. I knew it was important if Bigmama came.

(Bigmama)

I don’t have any idea what I got that year for Christmas. I’m sure there were pajamas and probably a doll under the tree. I’m equally as sure that we read the story of Christ’s birth from the Gospel of Luke, because we did that every year. I imagine we said a prayer and were thankful for all of our blessings before we tore into the gifts. I couldn’t swear to any of that.

What I can swear to is this; Family mattered to us. Not only our little family, but also our extended family. I learned by example that when things don’t go as planned or when bad things happen…family comes to help get you through. I learned that if Mother couldn’t care for us, someone who loved us very much would step in and fill in for her until she was again able to do that. Some of those people weren’t family, but they loved us and took us in.

More often than not as an adult, I have been far away from my parents, brothers and sister. I have made Christmas in tiny apartments, beautiful homes and even in temporary military housing. I have eaten Christmas dinner in a chow hall full of GIs who were probably as homesick as I was. One Christmas, we were living in the Bachelor Officer’s Quarters with Marines during part of the Christmas season. I read “Winnie the Pooh” along with the Christmas Story to my children in the common room, and had some pretty big Marines move their chairs closer and ask me to keep going long after the children had fallen asleep. I’ve shared Christmas with dear friends, and made some new friends over Christmas dinner.

To me, Christmas is about being content wherever you are. It is about the Joy that came to the world and resides in my heart. It is about little children singing “Away in a Manger” and it is about having a spirit of generosity. So, if I am far away from those I hold dear, I remember that the place Christmas truly happens is in my heart. It has nothing to do with location or company. It has everything to do with God becoming flesh and dwelling among us.

I’m praying for each of you to enjoy a Christmas experience so sweet that you will cherish it in your heart the whole year long.

~ Mollianne