I think that, the older you get, the more Christmas brings mixed emotions. Overall, it's just an immensely happy time and I love gathering with my family.
But I am keenly aware that it's not happy for everyone. We just heard some awful news from Little Rock. A young man who is a year older than Older Son and used to play with him in our old neighborhood, and whose parents we knew from church, was killed in a plane crash a couple of days ago, along with his wife. A pilot, he was trying to land his plane at the airport in Colorado Springs in unusally heavy fog. They had flown from South Dakotah, where he was stationed in the Air Force, to Colorado to be with her family for Christmas.
Just like that, this family's Christmas is not happy at all, but wrapped in grief and sorrow. Each Christmas now will remind them of this tragedy. And all I can do is offer a prayer for them, that the child we celebrate this time of year will meet them right where they are and comfort them with a supernatural comfort, and help them to somehow know that He does, in fact, make all things new.
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I went to the grocery store early this morning to get a few items for Christmas morning breakfast. The pickings were rather slim, but that's what I get for waiting until today to make my list and get what I needed.
I was surprised that there weren't more fellow shoppers. It really wasn't very crowded. I guess the serious Christmas cooks have already gathered what they need by December 24. Among my peers this morning, though, was a lovely lady who looked to be about 70. Her dark brown hair was swept into a bun, she had high heels on her feet and she was adorned in a full length mink coat.
And that coat reminded me of my mother.
To explain, there was not one thing pretentious or showy about my mom. She hung clothes out on a clothes line until sometime in the 1970s when she bought a used clothes drier at a garage sale. She still hung sheets on the line, and ironed them, until she became sick with cancer in 1996.
She rarely spent money on herself. She clipped coupons with a vengeance and could sniff out a bargain better than anyone I ever knew. She and my dad recycled before it was even called recycling.
So to say my mother lived frugally is an understatment. Sometime in the 1980s, though, after years of her longing and dreaming, my dad bought her a mink coat. I don't know why she wanted a mink coat, of all things, but she did. And the fact that she had lived her life so economically made it that much more cool for her to have something so seemingly extravagant.
And oh, how she loved that coat. It's not like South Arkansas had brutal winters but when the thermometer would hit about 50 or below, my mother would put that coat on and yes, she would wear it to the grocery store and, although I never saw her do it, I would not have been suprised to have seen her wearing it as she hung sheets out on the line.
So this morning, when I saw the dressed-up lady with the mink coat, I couldn't help myself. I told her that it was one of the most beautiful coats I had ever seen and I told her it reminded me of my mother. Her face lit up with a big smile and she graciously thanked me, and said she just loved wearing it. I told her I could tell she did.
And I know mink coats are no longer popular, and are in fact frowned upon, and I am really sorry for the animals that were killed to make the coats. But seeing that pretty lady in the mink coat added a very happy dimension to Christmas for me.
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In keeping with our internationally themed Christmas Eves, we're doing Greek this year. Gyros, Greek salad, roasted potatoes and baklava. And dear Wife, bless her, with the blessing of all of us, got part of it from a Greek restaurant. She has had a low stress day and I think that's just great.
Merry Christmas, everyone.
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Friday, December 24, 2010
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
What I Love About Christmas
We will have a different kind of Christmas this year in that we will have no extended family. Over the time Wife and I have been married, we have gone to one of our parents’ homes and celebrated with them and, at times, our siblings, or, in more recent years, they have come to us.
My parents are now, of course, deceased. Wife’s parents, who live in Little Rock and are both 81, were here at Thanksgiving, along with their other daughter and family. They said they were staying home this Christmas, that the trip over in November was enough traveling for them for a while.
While we will miss them terribly, we are turning our attention toward our own family and what we will do. We started a tradition last year of having an international theme on Christmas Eve. Last year was Mexico and we strung up red pepper lights, played “Feliz Navidad” over and over, ad nauseum, and ate tacos, etc. It was a riot.
This year, in honor of Wife’s and my recent European trip, we are going with an Italian theme. Haven’t settled on the menu yet but I am sure we will have some type of pasta and it will be wonderful. How authentically Italian it will be remains to be seen but it will be great. Not sure about the music.
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I think I might have written about this last year, too, but it’s worth mentioning again. I just don’t get worked up over whether people say “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” or whatever. There are some Christian organizations that are urging us to boycott stores that don’t say “Merry Christmas.” One even goes so far as to tell you how you can “rate” the various retail outlets for their attention to the word Christmas.
Please. Don’t you think those of us who are Christ followers can make better use of our time and energies? And don’t you think Jesus would rather we concentrate a little more on that “love your neighbor” stuff than trying to assure that those who choose not to follow Him acknowledge his birthday? Nobody can stop you or me from celebrating the birth of Christ, just as I can’t force anyone TO celebrate it. So please, chill out about this one.
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Have you seen this year’s hands down winner of the award for “Sure-to-make-you-cry” Christmas commercial? I’m telling you, Wife and I can’t even talk about this one, much less watch it, without tearing up.
It is presented by Publix Supermarkets and I haven’t been able to find it on YouTube so I owe it to you to try and describe it.
There’s this young man, looks mid-twenty-ish, and apparently he’s a medical resident and he’s having to work Christmas. He’s standing at the nurses’ station in the hospital talking to his mom on his cell phone and it’s obviously Christmas Eve. It cuts away to Mom and she’s just as wholesome looking as can be, standing there with the phone in her hand amidst all the activity around her – folks trimming a tree, rolling out biscuits, putting a pie in the oven -- while Christmas music plays in the background.
He tells her how he wishes he could be there and she says she does too. He has to go, he says, and tells her he loves her. You can tell Mom’s being strong for him, as moms are supposed to be.
The next scene is him standing at the foot of a hospital bed and you can hear the voice of his patient asking if he’ll be going home. He replies no, that his family will all be gathering but he won’t be there this year. He tells the unseen patient that he’ll see her tomorrow.
He is next seen walking down the street about sundown with just a hint of a slump in his shoulders, observing store windows with holiday greetings. We then see him walking down the hall of an apartment building. He stops and punches in the numbers on his phone and tells his mother that he almost forgot, but to please be sure and greet everyone for him and tell them Happy Holidays. She says she’ll be sure to do that.
He then opens the door to his apartment and what do you know, there is his mom, having just hung up the phone, and the other family members. All the while they have been getting his place ready for him to come home so they’ll celebrate Christmas together.
And folks, I’m getting choked up just typing this and my description doesn’t even do it justice.
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And that’s one of the many things I love about Christmas. I love the sense of family and togetherness that it evokes. My family could have been a case study in dysfunction and nobody knew it better than my mother, but until she died she and my dad had us, along with my brother and his family, come to their house on Christmas Day. It was not always -- nor even often -- the idyllic scene I have described from the TV commercial, but the holiday held enough significance for her that she would always make an effort to patch together a family celebration for a family that, sadly, was not often inclined to gather together.
Late Christmas Eve, after our internationally themed dinner, where there might or might not have been harmonious togetherness, Wife and I will gather our little brood and one of our grown or nearly grown children will read the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke as they have done since they were little guys. This will happen after we have a debate about whose turn it is to do it (we once thought of writing it down, but arguing about who did it last year has become part of the tradition).
At 11 p.m. we will go to a local church that we always attend on Christmas Eve, where we will hear beautiful music, listen to Scripture readings and take Communion. As midnight approaches we will light candles, sing “Silent Night” and usher in Christmas. We will welcome the Baby Jesus and prepare our hearts. For a moment things will be perfect, as He is perfect.
I will hear the music, see the candles glowing and look at my beautiful family and I will hardly be able to take it in.
And these are some of the things I love about Christmas.
My parents are now, of course, deceased. Wife’s parents, who live in Little Rock and are both 81, were here at Thanksgiving, along with their other daughter and family. They said they were staying home this Christmas, that the trip over in November was enough traveling for them for a while.
While we will miss them terribly, we are turning our attention toward our own family and what we will do. We started a tradition last year of having an international theme on Christmas Eve. Last year was Mexico and we strung up red pepper lights, played “Feliz Navidad” over and over, ad nauseum, and ate tacos, etc. It was a riot.
This year, in honor of Wife’s and my recent European trip, we are going with an Italian theme. Haven’t settled on the menu yet but I am sure we will have some type of pasta and it will be wonderful. How authentically Italian it will be remains to be seen but it will be great. Not sure about the music.
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I think I might have written about this last year, too, but it’s worth mentioning again. I just don’t get worked up over whether people say “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” or whatever. There are some Christian organizations that are urging us to boycott stores that don’t say “Merry Christmas.” One even goes so far as to tell you how you can “rate” the various retail outlets for their attention to the word Christmas.
Please. Don’t you think those of us who are Christ followers can make better use of our time and energies? And don’t you think Jesus would rather we concentrate a little more on that “love your neighbor” stuff than trying to assure that those who choose not to follow Him acknowledge his birthday? Nobody can stop you or me from celebrating the birth of Christ, just as I can’t force anyone TO celebrate it. So please, chill out about this one.
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Have you seen this year’s hands down winner of the award for “Sure-to-make-you-cry” Christmas commercial? I’m telling you, Wife and I can’t even talk about this one, much less watch it, without tearing up.
It is presented by Publix Supermarkets and I haven’t been able to find it on YouTube so I owe it to you to try and describe it.
There’s this young man, looks mid-twenty-ish, and apparently he’s a medical resident and he’s having to work Christmas. He’s standing at the nurses’ station in the hospital talking to his mom on his cell phone and it’s obviously Christmas Eve. It cuts away to Mom and she’s just as wholesome looking as can be, standing there with the phone in her hand amidst all the activity around her – folks trimming a tree, rolling out biscuits, putting a pie in the oven -- while Christmas music plays in the background.
He tells her how he wishes he could be there and she says she does too. He has to go, he says, and tells her he loves her. You can tell Mom’s being strong for him, as moms are supposed to be.
The next scene is him standing at the foot of a hospital bed and you can hear the voice of his patient asking if he’ll be going home. He replies no, that his family will all be gathering but he won’t be there this year. He tells the unseen patient that he’ll see her tomorrow.
He is next seen walking down the street about sundown with just a hint of a slump in his shoulders, observing store windows with holiday greetings. We then see him walking down the hall of an apartment building. He stops and punches in the numbers on his phone and tells his mother that he almost forgot, but to please be sure and greet everyone for him and tell them Happy Holidays. She says she’ll be sure to do that.
He then opens the door to his apartment and what do you know, there is his mom, having just hung up the phone, and the other family members. All the while they have been getting his place ready for him to come home so they’ll celebrate Christmas together.
And folks, I’m getting choked up just typing this and my description doesn’t even do it justice.
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And that’s one of the many things I love about Christmas. I love the sense of family and togetherness that it evokes. My family could have been a case study in dysfunction and nobody knew it better than my mother, but until she died she and my dad had us, along with my brother and his family, come to their house on Christmas Day. It was not always -- nor even often -- the idyllic scene I have described from the TV commercial, but the holiday held enough significance for her that she would always make an effort to patch together a family celebration for a family that, sadly, was not often inclined to gather together.
Late Christmas Eve, after our internationally themed dinner, where there might or might not have been harmonious togetherness, Wife and I will gather our little brood and one of our grown or nearly grown children will read the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke as they have done since they were little guys. This will happen after we have a debate about whose turn it is to do it (we once thought of writing it down, but arguing about who did it last year has become part of the tradition).
At 11 p.m. we will go to a local church that we always attend on Christmas Eve, where we will hear beautiful music, listen to Scripture readings and take Communion. As midnight approaches we will light candles, sing “Silent Night” and usher in Christmas. We will welcome the Baby Jesus and prepare our hearts. For a moment things will be perfect, as He is perfect.
I will hear the music, see the candles glowing and look at my beautiful family and I will hardly be able to take it in.
And these are some of the things I love about Christmas.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Christmas Thoughts
Merry Christmas to all. Some random thoughts on Christmas Eve:
-- Wife and I are celebrating our 25th Christmas together as husband and wife. Our first Christmas we were still very tied to our respective families' traditions. We went to church with her parents on Christmas Eve, then had dinner, opened gifts and spent the night with them (even though we lived in the same town). We got up at 6 a.m. and drove to South Arkansas in time for breakfast with my folks. After the day there with them and my brother and his family we drove back to Little Rock for turkey sandwiches with Wife's parents. It was exhausting.
-- Our second Christmas, Wife was pregnant with our first child. We thought she was going into labor Christmas Eve and even went so far as to pack a bag before going to church. HA! The pains subsided and exactly one month later, three weeks past her due date, she delivered Daniel via Caesarean section. He was in no hurry whatsoever.
-- One memorable Christmas was 1988 when our daughter was about seven weeks old. On the afternoon of December 23rd she would not stop crying, which was not uncommon with our colicky babies, but Wife and I could both tell it was more than just the normal fussiness. Wife took her to the pediatrician and within a couple of hours she was in the hospital and that's where we spent Christmas that year. We tag-teamed staying in the hospital with her and spending time with her older brother at home. Turned out she had a little problem with her immune system and two more hospitalizations followed over the next few months. Everything eventually kicked in, though, and she's stunningly beautiful and healthy today.
-- The first Christmas after losing my mom was a sad one. She died in October 1996, two weeks after her and my dad's 50th anniversary. Dad was lost without her and decided to just stay home and get through it on Christmas Day. My brother and I said we would come with our families and put up a tree as we had always done but he would not hear of it. We respected his wishes and I called him Christmas morning. He was OK and had decided he would go to lunch at my brother's house. We all got through it and it was fine, but ever since then I have had a very keen awareness of those who are hurting at Christmastime. It's not always happy for everyone.
-- I lost Dad in January of 2006, less than two weeks after he had, at 83 years old, made the 8-hour drive to Nashville to spend Christmas with us. He was not always an easy guest but we really had a good time that year and I'll always be thankful for that Christmas with him. I think a lot of both of my parents at Christmas. I still miss them, but it really is true that good memories comfort you. I am very thankful that Wife's parents, both of whom turned 80 this year, both still join us for Christmas.
-- I love Christmas but I tire of the gift-giving. I enjoy giving special gifts when I want to, but I do not have the "gift" of giving and any type of shopping stresses me out. I also do not receive gifts well and am painfully embarrassed opening gifts in front of people. I realize this is a character deficiency and after years of discussions with Wife about this, I have made some progress. But I still don't like it very much.
-- I don't get all worked up over the "Merry Christmas" vs. "Happy Holidays" vs. "Season's Greetings" stuff. Political correctness drives me insane and why it bothers anybody for someone to wish them a Merry Christmas is beyond me, but hey, I won't say it to them if it bothers them. Wish me a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hannukah, Happy Holidays or anything of the sort and I'm just fine. As Christians we do in fact celebrate the birth of Christ at this time of year and noone can take that away from us, so, as I said, I am not getting too excited over all of this. Many of the traditions around the Christmas celebration actually are derived from the old pagan celebration of the Winter Solstice and if I remember the facts correctly, that's how bringing a tree and other greenery inside got started. I know that in all likelihood Jesus was not born in December but I still think it's very appropriate that we make a big deal out of God sending His Son. And if we have tied some other traditions and practices to that that do not have Christian origins, and vice-versa, I am totally OK with that. We can all chill out and not major in the minors.
-- We're making some changes at our house this year for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We are having a "Mexican Fiesta" for Christmas Eve dinner -- enchiladas, fish tacos, chips and salsa. We're going to string up pepper lights in the dining room. If everyone likes, this, we're going to pick another country for Christmas Eve next year and maybe start a new tradition. Tomorrow we're having beef tenderloin and salmon (two of us are non-beef eaters). For years it's been turkey and dresssing and Wife said, if it's all the same to the rest of us, she gets a little tired of doing it again so soon after Thanksgiving. We're all cool with it.
-- We go to a non-denominational church which is rather contemporary and we have three services on Christmas Eve. We, however, do not attend on Christmas Eve. For a number of years now we have gone to a Methodist Church for an 11 p.m. Candlelight and Communion Service that is very traditional and has beautiful music. I love the pipe organ and brass that accompanies the traditional Christmas Carols and I love the choir. It is a highlight of Christmas for me.
-- To anyone who is reading this, I hope you have a blessed Christmas season and that, whatever it means to you, you will have some special times with those you love. If you are hurting this Christmas, I hope you get through it and I will join you in praying for better days ahead.
-- Wife and I are celebrating our 25th Christmas together as husband and wife. Our first Christmas we were still very tied to our respective families' traditions. We went to church with her parents on Christmas Eve, then had dinner, opened gifts and spent the night with them (even though we lived in the same town). We got up at 6 a.m. and drove to South Arkansas in time for breakfast with my folks. After the day there with them and my brother and his family we drove back to Little Rock for turkey sandwiches with Wife's parents. It was exhausting.
-- Our second Christmas, Wife was pregnant with our first child. We thought she was going into labor Christmas Eve and even went so far as to pack a bag before going to church. HA! The pains subsided and exactly one month later, three weeks past her due date, she delivered Daniel via Caesarean section. He was in no hurry whatsoever.
-- One memorable Christmas was 1988 when our daughter was about seven weeks old. On the afternoon of December 23rd she would not stop crying, which was not uncommon with our colicky babies, but Wife and I could both tell it was more than just the normal fussiness. Wife took her to the pediatrician and within a couple of hours she was in the hospital and that's where we spent Christmas that year. We tag-teamed staying in the hospital with her and spending time with her older brother at home. Turned out she had a little problem with her immune system and two more hospitalizations followed over the next few months. Everything eventually kicked in, though, and she's stunningly beautiful and healthy today.
-- The first Christmas after losing my mom was a sad one. She died in October 1996, two weeks after her and my dad's 50th anniversary. Dad was lost without her and decided to just stay home and get through it on Christmas Day. My brother and I said we would come with our families and put up a tree as we had always done but he would not hear of it. We respected his wishes and I called him Christmas morning. He was OK and had decided he would go to lunch at my brother's house. We all got through it and it was fine, but ever since then I have had a very keen awareness of those who are hurting at Christmastime. It's not always happy for everyone.
-- I lost Dad in January of 2006, less than two weeks after he had, at 83 years old, made the 8-hour drive to Nashville to spend Christmas with us. He was not always an easy guest but we really had a good time that year and I'll always be thankful for that Christmas with him. I think a lot of both of my parents at Christmas. I still miss them, but it really is true that good memories comfort you. I am very thankful that Wife's parents, both of whom turned 80 this year, both still join us for Christmas.
-- I love Christmas but I tire of the gift-giving. I enjoy giving special gifts when I want to, but I do not have the "gift" of giving and any type of shopping stresses me out. I also do not receive gifts well and am painfully embarrassed opening gifts in front of people. I realize this is a character deficiency and after years of discussions with Wife about this, I have made some progress. But I still don't like it very much.
-- I don't get all worked up over the "Merry Christmas" vs. "Happy Holidays" vs. "Season's Greetings" stuff. Political correctness drives me insane and why it bothers anybody for someone to wish them a Merry Christmas is beyond me, but hey, I won't say it to them if it bothers them. Wish me a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hannukah, Happy Holidays or anything of the sort and I'm just fine. As Christians we do in fact celebrate the birth of Christ at this time of year and noone can take that away from us, so, as I said, I am not getting too excited over all of this. Many of the traditions around the Christmas celebration actually are derived from the old pagan celebration of the Winter Solstice and if I remember the facts correctly, that's how bringing a tree and other greenery inside got started. I know that in all likelihood Jesus was not born in December but I still think it's very appropriate that we make a big deal out of God sending His Son. And if we have tied some other traditions and practices to that that do not have Christian origins, and vice-versa, I am totally OK with that. We can all chill out and not major in the minors.
-- We're making some changes at our house this year for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We are having a "Mexican Fiesta" for Christmas Eve dinner -- enchiladas, fish tacos, chips and salsa. We're going to string up pepper lights in the dining room. If everyone likes, this, we're going to pick another country for Christmas Eve next year and maybe start a new tradition. Tomorrow we're having beef tenderloin and salmon (two of us are non-beef eaters). For years it's been turkey and dresssing and Wife said, if it's all the same to the rest of us, she gets a little tired of doing it again so soon after Thanksgiving. We're all cool with it.
-- We go to a non-denominational church which is rather contemporary and we have three services on Christmas Eve. We, however, do not attend on Christmas Eve. For a number of years now we have gone to a Methodist Church for an 11 p.m. Candlelight and Communion Service that is very traditional and has beautiful music. I love the pipe organ and brass that accompanies the traditional Christmas Carols and I love the choir. It is a highlight of Christmas for me.
-- To anyone who is reading this, I hope you have a blessed Christmas season and that, whatever it means to you, you will have some special times with those you love. If you are hurting this Christmas, I hope you get through it and I will join you in praying for better days ahead.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Christmas Tree Hell
Putting up a Christmas Tree at this time of year is a cherished tradition in families across the country and my family is no exception. The distinguishing factor in my family, however, is that putting up the tree is anticipated not with awe, but dread. And that is all because of me.
For some reason, putting up the Christmas Tree brings out the worst in me. I have long held out for having a real tree, not an artificial one. So every year we go to one of the local stores, pick one out (when the children were younger, we would go cut one down), bring it home and put it up.
Would that it were that simple.
I really thought it went well last weekend when we got it in the house and in the stand. After a few maneuverings, it stood in the stand with no exterior wires. Mission accomplished. The Season of Good Cheer had officially arrived.
But about an hour later I noticed Wife was not cheerful. Most men know when they are at fault for their wives being a bit out of sorts. And, just like always, I had to go through the "What's wrong?" - "Nothing." - "No, really." - "Nothing." - "OK" - "Well if you don't know . . ." ordeal before finally figuring out I had once again offended her while carrying out the family tradition.
While lying on the floor turning the little screws on the tree stand with one hand and trying to hold the tree erect with the other, with her saying, "Turn it just a little, no that's not it, no it's still leaning, no, maybe you need to cut off a little branch, no, it's just not right, well, if you want a tree that's leaning," apparently I asked her to "hush." No, apparently it was more of a command.
Honestly, I don't remember it. But neither do I deny it. For, as I said, something about bringing a live tree in the house sends me into a funk.
I appropriately apologized and was forgiven. Wife's nothing if not understanding (and she has been down this road before).
The best way to explain myself is to print my Christmas letter of 2002. I have written our family Christmas letter for a number of years now. I always try to make it more of a humorous, satirical piece, to give the recipients a little comic relief amidst the ones that pour in touting the various accomplishments of the author or the author's family, particulary the author's unusually bright and outstanding children.
So, here it is, from six years ago, with my best wishes for a safe and happy holiday season:
December 2002
We continue to follow the cherished family holiday traditions. Here's a rundown from my journal of what we affectionately call, at our house, Christmas Tree Hell:
Sunday, Dec. 1: We take the whole family to Home Depot to get the tree. They are already sold out (on December 1st?!) except for the pitiful Charlie Brown trees. We go to a lot that would have required me to put a second mortgage on our home in order to purchase a tree there. I suggest we go to Kroger. Daughter says she won't allow tree from Kroger (??). Wise wife says let's wait a couple of days for Home Depot to get second shipment.
Tuesday, Dec. 3: Wife and children come home from Home Depot with tree that would indicate that second shipment came from Redwood Forest. Not to worry, Wife says, observing my look of unbelief. She has purchased the "Miracle Christmas Tree Stand," with "One Person Setup" -- what we have always needed, she says. Picture on box shows smartly dressed woman in high heels placing tree in stand, using her foot to adjust the patented swivel feature which dares any tree not to stand straight. Yes, Dear, I say, this year will be different, even though trunk of tree is near my waist size.
Wednesday, Dec. 4: Almost 17-year-old son and I carry Christmas Tree into house. (If the gal in the picture on the box could do this by herself, she shouldn't be modeling for Christmas Tree stand boxes; she should be a body builder). I ask children not to videotape this event as in years past as it could be used against me should our state ever allow children to divorce parents. Wife prepares "Miracle Christmas Tree Stand." Son and I lift and heave. Miracle doesn't happen. Tree falls to floor. Wife reads instructions. Oh, she says, we forgot to trim the trunk so it will "wedge" into stand. I wonder if maybe Wife should have dressed more like woman on the box. I utter words under my breath and go get my saw. Younger two children fight back tears and retreat to playroom. Son and I begin to make tree trunk resemble "wedge." Room resembles forest as sawdust and needles blanket carpet. I lean back against the wall in exhaustion, perspiration pouring. Hours later, Wife again prepares "Miracle Christmas Tree Stand," we heave and hoist, Wife "swivels" stand pursuant to instructions and lo and behold, Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow, it really is a miracle, the tree stands. I have triumphed over nature. No need to tie it to the wall this year, I say. Maybe just for security, doubting Wife says. NO!!! I say . . . sweetly.
Thursday, Dec. 5: Family decorates tree. Angel is placed on top. All three children comment that tree seems to be leaning. Don't be cute, I say. Angel looks like she is about to take flight, or nosedive, from top of tree.
Friday, Dec. 6: Wife hosts church staff Christmas dinner at our home. Christmas Tree stands majestically, beautiful lights and ornaments hanging gracefully as fifty people gather 'round. I get choked up as I smugly relate how easily it went up this year, thanks to my skill and the "Miracle Christmas Tree Stand."
Sunday, Dec. 8: Tree has survived the weekend. I deny hearing creaky popping sounds from that end of the room that children point out. I threaten to return their Christmas presents if they continue to make reference to tree leaning.
Tuesday, Dec. 10: Angel at top of tree at right angle, pleading with us to give her some relief if she is to reign over Christmas this year. In private I get the ladder and put her out her misery. Again, I deny hearing any kind of creaking or popping sound as I lift her off the tree. I tell Wife I'm giving angel a rest and will put her back up at a later time.
Wednesday, Dec. 11: Wife calls me at work at 10 a.m. Tree has fallen to floor, she says, smashing lights and ornaments. What to do, she asks. I'll come home, I say, tree will be thrown into back yard, "Miracle Christmas Tree Stand" will be returned with instructions on what they can do with it and we will purchase a fake tree, or have no tree at all. God never intended for us to have trees in our houses in the first place, I say. Stay at work, she says, we'll deal with it tonight. When I arrive at home, I observe tree lying prostrate on the floor and decide once again that it will not defeat me. Armed with wire, hooks, nails and a hammer, son and I pick it up, put it back into former miracle stand, and it is wired to the nail in the wall as in years past.
Thursday, Dec. 12 (today): Christmas Tree stands naked in our den as we try to muster our enthusiasm for decorating it again. Wife says we will one day laugh about it. Children will remember annual battle between Christmas Tree and crazed father as highlight of Christmas season.
If anyone in the world should surrender to an artificial tree, it is yours truly. But by this time next year this will be a faded memory and we'll do it again. I shall return.
And yes, we've done it every year since. I will say it has gotten better and we have finally learned to pick out more reasonably sized trees. Only one real disaster since 2002, and that year we finally surrendered and used an artificial tree that Wife's parents had handed down to us. We had about 80 dollars' worth of greenery from the mammoth real tree that just refused to participate.
Saying "hush" to Wife only one time during the whole process this year, and that being the extent of the tension, is progress, my friends. Merry Christmas -- and a joyous Christmas Tree -- to all.
For some reason, putting up the Christmas Tree brings out the worst in me. I have long held out for having a real tree, not an artificial one. So every year we go to one of the local stores, pick one out (when the children were younger, we would go cut one down), bring it home and put it up.
Would that it were that simple.
I really thought it went well last weekend when we got it in the house and in the stand. After a few maneuverings, it stood in the stand with no exterior wires. Mission accomplished. The Season of Good Cheer had officially arrived.
But about an hour later I noticed Wife was not cheerful. Most men know when they are at fault for their wives being a bit out of sorts. And, just like always, I had to go through the "What's wrong?" - "Nothing." - "No, really." - "Nothing." - "OK" - "Well if you don't know . . ." ordeal before finally figuring out I had once again offended her while carrying out the family tradition.
While lying on the floor turning the little screws on the tree stand with one hand and trying to hold the tree erect with the other, with her saying, "Turn it just a little, no that's not it, no it's still leaning, no, maybe you need to cut off a little branch, no, it's just not right, well, if you want a tree that's leaning," apparently I asked her to "hush." No, apparently it was more of a command.
Honestly, I don't remember it. But neither do I deny it. For, as I said, something about bringing a live tree in the house sends me into a funk.
I appropriately apologized and was forgiven. Wife's nothing if not understanding (and she has been down this road before).
The best way to explain myself is to print my Christmas letter of 2002. I have written our family Christmas letter for a number of years now. I always try to make it more of a humorous, satirical piece, to give the recipients a little comic relief amidst the ones that pour in touting the various accomplishments of the author or the author's family, particulary the author's unusually bright and outstanding children.
So, here it is, from six years ago, with my best wishes for a safe and happy holiday season:
December 2002
We continue to follow the cherished family holiday traditions. Here's a rundown from my journal of what we affectionately call, at our house, Christmas Tree Hell:
Sunday, Dec. 1: We take the whole family to Home Depot to get the tree. They are already sold out (on December 1st?!) except for the pitiful Charlie Brown trees. We go to a lot that would have required me to put a second mortgage on our home in order to purchase a tree there. I suggest we go to Kroger. Daughter says she won't allow tree from Kroger (??). Wise wife says let's wait a couple of days for Home Depot to get second shipment.
Tuesday, Dec. 3: Wife and children come home from Home Depot with tree that would indicate that second shipment came from Redwood Forest. Not to worry, Wife says, observing my look of unbelief. She has purchased the "Miracle Christmas Tree Stand," with "One Person Setup" -- what we have always needed, she says. Picture on box shows smartly dressed woman in high heels placing tree in stand, using her foot to adjust the patented swivel feature which dares any tree not to stand straight. Yes, Dear, I say, this year will be different, even though trunk of tree is near my waist size.
Wednesday, Dec. 4: Almost 17-year-old son and I carry Christmas Tree into house. (If the gal in the picture on the box could do this by herself, she shouldn't be modeling for Christmas Tree stand boxes; she should be a body builder). I ask children not to videotape this event as in years past as it could be used against me should our state ever allow children to divorce parents. Wife prepares "Miracle Christmas Tree Stand." Son and I lift and heave. Miracle doesn't happen. Tree falls to floor. Wife reads instructions. Oh, she says, we forgot to trim the trunk so it will "wedge" into stand. I wonder if maybe Wife should have dressed more like woman on the box. I utter words under my breath and go get my saw. Younger two children fight back tears and retreat to playroom. Son and I begin to make tree trunk resemble "wedge." Room resembles forest as sawdust and needles blanket carpet. I lean back against the wall in exhaustion, perspiration pouring. Hours later, Wife again prepares "Miracle Christmas Tree Stand," we heave and hoist, Wife "swivels" stand pursuant to instructions and lo and behold, Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow, it really is a miracle, the tree stands. I have triumphed over nature. No need to tie it to the wall this year, I say. Maybe just for security, doubting Wife says. NO!!! I say . . . sweetly.
Thursday, Dec. 5: Family decorates tree. Angel is placed on top. All three children comment that tree seems to be leaning. Don't be cute, I say. Angel looks like she is about to take flight, or nosedive, from top of tree.
Friday, Dec. 6: Wife hosts church staff Christmas dinner at our home. Christmas Tree stands majestically, beautiful lights and ornaments hanging gracefully as fifty people gather 'round. I get choked up as I smugly relate how easily it went up this year, thanks to my skill and the "Miracle Christmas Tree Stand."
Sunday, Dec. 8: Tree has survived the weekend. I deny hearing creaky popping sounds from that end of the room that children point out. I threaten to return their Christmas presents if they continue to make reference to tree leaning.
Tuesday, Dec. 10: Angel at top of tree at right angle, pleading with us to give her some relief if she is to reign over Christmas this year. In private I get the ladder and put her out her misery. Again, I deny hearing any kind of creaking or popping sound as I lift her off the tree. I tell Wife I'm giving angel a rest and will put her back up at a later time.
Wednesday, Dec. 11: Wife calls me at work at 10 a.m. Tree has fallen to floor, she says, smashing lights and ornaments. What to do, she asks. I'll come home, I say, tree will be thrown into back yard, "Miracle Christmas Tree Stand" will be returned with instructions on what they can do with it and we will purchase a fake tree, or have no tree at all. God never intended for us to have trees in our houses in the first place, I say. Stay at work, she says, we'll deal with it tonight. When I arrive at home, I observe tree lying prostrate on the floor and decide once again that it will not defeat me. Armed with wire, hooks, nails and a hammer, son and I pick it up, put it back into former miracle stand, and it is wired to the nail in the wall as in years past.
Thursday, Dec. 12 (today): Christmas Tree stands naked in our den as we try to muster our enthusiasm for decorating it again. Wife says we will one day laugh about it. Children will remember annual battle between Christmas Tree and crazed father as highlight of Christmas season.
If anyone in the world should surrender to an artificial tree, it is yours truly. But by this time next year this will be a faded memory and we'll do it again. I shall return.
###
And yes, we've done it every year since. I will say it has gotten better and we have finally learned to pick out more reasonably sized trees. Only one real disaster since 2002, and that year we finally surrendered and used an artificial tree that Wife's parents had handed down to us. We had about 80 dollars' worth of greenery from the mammoth real tree that just refused to participate.
Saying "hush" to Wife only one time during the whole process this year, and that being the extent of the tension, is progress, my friends. Merry Christmas -- and a joyous Christmas Tree -- to all.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Like No Other
For me, the holiday season is not complete without hearing at least a recording, if not a live presentation, of Messiah, George Frederick Handel's famous oratorio which he wrote over a period of 24 days in 1741.
The score includes orchestral pieces as well as both choruses and solos. The words are entirely from Scripture. Although most often performed at the Christmas season, the works encompass the prophecy, birth, crucifixion and resurrection of Christ. Some of the better known portions include "For Unto Us a Child is Born" and "Hallelujah."
I was first introduced to this magnificent work as high school sophomore chorister in South Arkansas. Our combined high school choirs and youth orchestra performed at our local municipal auditorium. It was a challenging task for high schoolers but I thought it came off beautifully. A vinyl record album was even made of our rendition, which included all the shuffling and coughing that came with the performance. I played it so much I think I finally wore it out.
I have participated in and heard a number of Messiah performances since that time. I now have a CD of one performed by a London choir and orchestra. Older Son and Daughter have both participated in performances. No matter who is performing, professional or amateur, I am always moved and get chills down my spine from the time I hear the overture until the last piece, usually the Hallelujah chorus. It is a complicated work, yet paradoxically simple as it tells the timeless story of Messiah coming to earth. I am at once moved by the beautiful music as well as the words.
There are few things about which I am a purist, but Handel's Messiah is one of them. None of the pieces should ever be changed or shortened in any way, nor should they ever be performed as a contemporary chorus or "praise song." I have heard some horrible take-offs on the Hallelujah Chorus and have, unfortunately, over the years occasionally heard a modern artist include one of the beautiful songs from Messiah jazzed up as part of a Christmas album. This is nothing short of blasphemy and cheapens Handel's incredible masterpiece. There is a place for every style of music, but there is never a reason to so chop up a creation as to be insulting.
Tonight one of our local churches hosted a "Messiah Sing-Along" where a choir, orchestra and soloists performed the work, but audience members were given a score and invited to sing with the choruses. Older Son and I went and enthusiastically lent our out-of-practice voices to the timeless pieces. I was again in awe of the beauty and wonder of the glorious music and was reminded anew of how God sent Messiah as His amazing gift to the world.
"For Unto Us a Child is Born, unto us a son is given, and the government shall be upon His shoulder and His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace."
To that, what can a person say, but Hallelujah?!
The score includes orchestral pieces as well as both choruses and solos. The words are entirely from Scripture. Although most often performed at the Christmas season, the works encompass the prophecy, birth, crucifixion and resurrection of Christ. Some of the better known portions include "For Unto Us a Child is Born" and "Hallelujah."
I was first introduced to this magnificent work as high school sophomore chorister in South Arkansas. Our combined high school choirs and youth orchestra performed at our local municipal auditorium. It was a challenging task for high schoolers but I thought it came off beautifully. A vinyl record album was even made of our rendition, which included all the shuffling and coughing that came with the performance. I played it so much I think I finally wore it out.
I have participated in and heard a number of Messiah performances since that time. I now have a CD of one performed by a London choir and orchestra. Older Son and Daughter have both participated in performances. No matter who is performing, professional or amateur, I am always moved and get chills down my spine from the time I hear the overture until the last piece, usually the Hallelujah chorus. It is a complicated work, yet paradoxically simple as it tells the timeless story of Messiah coming to earth. I am at once moved by the beautiful music as well as the words.
There are few things about which I am a purist, but Handel's Messiah is one of them. None of the pieces should ever be changed or shortened in any way, nor should they ever be performed as a contemporary chorus or "praise song." I have heard some horrible take-offs on the Hallelujah Chorus and have, unfortunately, over the years occasionally heard a modern artist include one of the beautiful songs from Messiah jazzed up as part of a Christmas album. This is nothing short of blasphemy and cheapens Handel's incredible masterpiece. There is a place for every style of music, but there is never a reason to so chop up a creation as to be insulting.
Tonight one of our local churches hosted a "Messiah Sing-Along" where a choir, orchestra and soloists performed the work, but audience members were given a score and invited to sing with the choruses. Older Son and I went and enthusiastically lent our out-of-practice voices to the timeless pieces. I was again in awe of the beauty and wonder of the glorious music and was reminded anew of how God sent Messiah as His amazing gift to the world.
"For Unto Us a Child is Born, unto us a son is given, and the government shall be upon His shoulder and His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace."
To that, what can a person say, but Hallelujah?!
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