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Christmas brings back fond memories

“Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Chrismastime.” — Laura Ingalls Wilder.

I first want to wish all my readers a belated Merry Christmas. This column should print right after Christmas, so I hope you had a good Christmas this year. I really hope you are being blessed by this column each and every week and God is talking to you and ministering to you. If this column is really helping you, it’s because of God, not anything I do. I want to thank all of you for another successful year of writing. Without you there would be no live-on purpose. Thank you.

I thought because I am writing this close to Christmas, I would share some of my Christmas memories. When I was a boy, we used to go to a Christmas tree farm near where we live. Much to my mother’s protest, we would insist on having a real tree. I still recall going down the rows, looking for the perfect tree. The smell of the freshly cut evergreens tied to poles was a very nice aroma to me. Those are memories that money can’t buy.

Then when we got home, we put the tree up and decorated it. The whole family was involved. I had a load of fun making the tree our own little part of Christmas. Sometimes at night I would turn off the lights in the house and watch the lights on the Christmas tree.

Another memory is when we would go down to my grandmother’s a few weeks before Christmas to bake Christmas cookies. When my mom and I would get to my grandmother’s house, she would have her kitchen table covered with old newspapers. I can still smell and feel the dough as my mom and my grandma rolled it out. Sometimes I would help with the cookie cutters. I always loved to help, but sometimes I got in the way and my mom would tell me to go watch TV or play outside.

Now my grandma lives out in the country, and in the 90s cable television didn’t go into the country very far. She only got three, five, eight, 10, 19 and a few more channels if we were lucky, but they weren’t clear. So I would go outside and play.

I’ll share one last memory. My middle brother and I shared a bedroom together for a few years. One Christmas morning we woke up at 4 a.m., and we were so excited we couldn’t go back to sleep. So we went into my parent’s bedroom and declared it was time to get up. That was met with a “go back to bed.”

“Can we at least open up our stocking?” we asked.

“Yes, now leave us alone until 7,” they replied.

So my brother and I went down and got our stockings, and we tore into them. We both got a little toy with five buttons on it. When you pushed them, they made different drum sounds. We got candy and some other things as well, but the drum toy was my favorite. I sat up in my room playing until my parents got up.

Ah, Christmas memories take me back to when life was simpler. Those are just some of my favorite memories. Once again, I wish a belated Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

Published: December 26, 2016
New Article ID: 2016712269987