“From the time she was a tiny little girl, we had this special thing at Christmas. Wherever she lived, I'd go pick her up and we'd cruise neighborhoods...”
When Guru Grant e-mailed me about writing yet another Christmas piece, I moaned, groaned, and wanted to spit up! (g) Every year I write a Christmas article. I've run out of true, funny stories about the years I spent as Santa Claus in a small Texas town. I've shared about my loneliest Christmas in Chicago. One year, I wrote about the nativity scene that my home church young people and I helped buy and put together. Folks came from all around. In fact, a lady recently wrote me and asked if she could use that story. BTW, all these stories (and many more) are still there in Grant's Christmas Celebration section.
Here's how I communicate with Grant regarding my "inspiration" to write. I go to my well. In this case, it's the Christmas well. I throw the old oaken bucket into the well and listen carefully for a splash. A "splash" would indicate that there was water — inspiration — in the well and a fresh, new piece would be forthcoming. When the inspiration factor is low or nonexistent, I either hear a dull "thunk" as the bucket hits mud or a rackety "clank" as my bucket hits dry sand and rocks! (g)
Well, pun intended, this time the sound of my oaken bucket slamming into dust and dirt, then shattering into a thousand toothpicks, was deafening. THEN, while taking our 25 year old granddaughter Jessica back home, we got to reminiscing about Christmases past!
From the time she was a tiny little girl, we had this special thing at Christmas. Wherever she lived, I'd go pick her up and we'd cruise neighborhoods looking for well—lighted scenes. In fact, one we went past in Clearwater a couple of nights ago looked like the folks were trying to keep from offending anyone. In the scene, one could see a huge Santa, Frosty the Snowman, Penguin, Nativity Scene, Reindeer, Sleigh, Trees, etc.
As we passed house after decorated house, I felt an urge to throw the bucket back in the well for one more try.
For a variety of reasons, I'm pretty much known by family and friends as a borderline scrooge about Christmas. I don't think my thinking is much different from most of my readers. Jesus' birthday is pretty low on the priority list as reasons for celebrating the season in spite of the bumper sticker pieties we expound. The jolly, red-suited fat man gets a lot of credit from kids and adults alike — adults who go into hock for a whole year or more to buy gifts they can't afford and the recepients don't really need or fully appreciate.
We start hearing Christmas music in September. The financial pages don't tout the birth of Jesus, but try to predict how much loot will come into store tills during the season. I could literally go on and on about the negative side of Christmas. I'm guessing you could add a whole host of things I've left out due to space considerations in this piece.
What grabs me about Christmas, after, of course, the recognition of Jesus' birthday, is family. A few years ago, Pat and I went to NY to spend Christmas with her siblings and Mom. Her Mom had some rather serious surgery. We spent Christmas day bringing Mom home from a hospital in Burlington, VT (160 miles away) over snow and ice-covered roads. However, we were family and we were together and we were doing what was necessary to pull it all together. Great Christmas.
This Christmas, Pat and I are going to Kathi and William's home at the Mansion on the Hilltop in northern Georgia. Mark, Beth, Milena, and Eric RAY are flying in from Colorado. We'll be together. How sweet and neat. We'd hoped Tim, Debbie, Steve, Rachael, and Ben would come up from Sarasota, but Debbie's recent back surgery keeps her from traveling right now. We did have a wonderful Thanksgiving day with them.
I don't care much about decorated trees, presents, crowded shopping malls, heavy traffic, dealing with depressed folks in my counseling ministry who've gone into great debt, etc. On the flip side of the coin is my wife Pat's tree. It is really Christ honoring. She has selected and collected every single decoration that hangs on the limbs. She's made scrolls and put scripture verses on them I really like what she does with our tree. We couldn't put one up this year because our home is full of boxes with just about every earthly thing we own and there is simply no room! You know, like "no room at the inn". (g)
I do thoroughly enjoy the lights. Jessica, Pat and I are going to find some time to go look at lights. You can count on that. I wish I'd thought to get a picture of the yard I described in Clearwater. The graphic accompanying this piece is my neighbor's home across the street. Tastefully done and a real joy to drive by coming home at night.
Do something this Christmas that doesn't cost anything. Play some games with your family. Go cruising, looking for lights. Have fun with family. You'll build the right kind of memories and find a reason to do it again next year.
Jerry Meyer AKA PapaJ, past away June 21, 2005. He got an early Christmas present. Miss you bunches, Jerry!—Grant