Christmas Memories

I have contemplated much on Christmas this year. What is the true meaning? Why do we say Christmas isn't about gifts and then stress out about buying gifts? What will our children really remember about Christmas? When they are grown, what stories will they tell their own children about their Christmases?

David and I have always purposed to make Christmas about Jesus' birth; and yet, despite all our efforts, our children still show more excitement over presents than they do over hearing their Daddy read the Christmas story from the Bible. Of course, we're not upset with them. They're children, and it's so much easier for them (and adults) to focus on that which they can see and feel and play with than that which they must believe in their hearts and read about from the Book. Plus, there's nothing wrong with gifts! Doesn't our Father in Heaven give us the greatest gifts of all? And didn't the Wise Men worship Jesus with gifts?

Our Christmases seem much different from the Christmases of my childhood. For one, I believed in Santa Claus. I think I might have been 12 or 13 before I finally figured out that Santa didn't exist. {I may have been a little slow.} We don't do Santa now, and it's not a big deal. I remember piles and piles of presents underneath our real tree several weeks before Christmas; and every week the pile would grow a little more. I loved and still love receiving gifts. I love giving gifts. My children love receiving gifts.

The memories from then until now, however, are what I remember most. Of all those boxes I unwrapped as a child, I would be hard pressed to tell you more than three things I received. The main thing I remember receiving is clothes. I always got new winter clothes for Christmas, especially as I got older. I remember getting a 10-speed bike with a radio attached to the handlebars one year. My brother got one too, and our lives were total bliss after that Christmas. I remember Santa bringing our entire family our first computer one year--an NEC with dial-up AOL. We still had that computer when I met David. As far as gifts go, I can't remember much more. I remember the anticipation of opening gifts more than the actual gifts.

My Christmas memories are tied up in experiences, not what was underneath the tree.

Christmas lights. I remember what a family affair putting lights on our house was. After God changed my Dad's life, I remember him taking some scrap pieces of pipe and welding them into a cross. He even made a stand for the cross on our pipe fence, and when the white lights were on at night, you could see that cross glowing from the highway over a mile away. I remember when icicle lights first came out and we got some!

Christmas cookies. We baked and decorated thousands of cookies. My mom always made sure we had red, green, and white icing, silver candy balls, red and green sprinkles. Every year we baked cookies and ate them til the beginning of February, we had made so many.

Christmas sweatshirts. I grew up in the age when it was popular to iron decals on to your sweatshirt and use paint to decorate it. And we did this every year, until I finally figured out that it wasn't cool anymore. I remember my Mom having a black sweatshirt with a huge Santa head surrounded by gold glitter paint.

Christmas decorating. I think I love to decorate now because my Mom gave me so much freedom to decorate our home at Christmastime. I would come home from school on an early December day, and Mom would have retrieved our plastic tubs of decorations from the barn. Then she would turn me loose. Every year I got better and better at decorating. I learned how to place things, how to group things, how to decorate a mantle, how to hang garland. And I could stand back with pride when visitors commented on how beautiful our house looked, knowing that I did it. I love those decorating memories.

Christmas food. My parents were never turkey-and-dressing at Christmas. We always had gourmet menus, used our prettiest dishes, and even got to bust out the cloth napkins and napkin rings. Coming up with the table scape was my job, and to this day I love to set a beautiful table. My parents would talk for weeks before Christmas about what our big meal would be. One year I remember we had Christmas breakfast. I can still smell the Orange French Toast. Several years Dad grilled huge salmon filets with fresh tarragon leaves. I will always remember the Rhodes rolls rising next to our wood-burning stove's pipe.

Chex Mix. And not the pre-made, bagged stuff. I think we kept batches of homemade Chex Mix made until after New Year because we ate so much of it. It's been so long since I've had homemade Chex Mix.

My childhood Christmas memories are what I've been reflecting upon this season. Those memories are what I hope to give my children. What better gift can I give them than to fill their hearts and minds with precious thoughts and experiences of our holidays as a family?

I hope, 20 or 30 years from now, that my children are telling my grandchildren their favorite Christmas memories. I hope they remember decorating our tree, our Jesse Tree, our snowman countdown til Christmas, Christmas Eve service at church, baking Christmas cookies, eating a special Christmas breakfast or dinner. I hope David and I do a good job of making Christmas about Jesus and memories and not about wrapped gifts. I hope we give them something that lasts... and a few things for them to put their hands on to know that we give them good gifts too.