Memories of the Heart
With Christmas approaching, my heart stirs up precious, old memories. Simple things that never made their way onto the pages of my writing. Little things, like my daddy making white divinity at Christmas. No, he was not the cook in our home, and I have no idea how that came to be. I only know it was special.
Years ago, when my late husband, Carl and I were dating, we decided to make a lacey, wax Christmas candle from ice, paraffin and a milk carton. A popular DIY project at that time. It actually turned out well, but then we tried to make fudge. It would never set up so we finally grabbed spoons and ate it that way. Now that’s a memory!
As a young family, our little church group had a progressive Christmas dinner with our house serving punch. I thought I should be festive and bought a small box of Christmas glasses for the occasion. Every Christmas, throughout the years, I have pulled out those glasses and used them with my family, remembering that long ago Christmas with old friends, many of whom are now in heaven.
At a different town and church, I shared in a cookie exchange with the ladies, and I always enjoyed gifting neighbors with baked goodies. These remembrances may not be passed on to younger generations, but they are still memories of the heart.
And traditions? Many. Some change through the years, but one goes on forever. No matter the place or the year, our family always had a Nativity. It may have been a tiny, plastic manger scene that you could hold in one hand, like the one we had as struggling newly weds, or our present Nativity with its wooden stable along with Mary, Joseph, wise men, shepherds, animals, and of course, the Christ Child and an angel.
That tradition will never change because Jesus Christ is the center of Christmas. It’s the celebration of His birth. Deity descending to earth. Angels rejoiced. Shepherds worshiped. Wise men bowed. A Savior was born.
Without this Holy Day, there would be no Holiday.
Wishing you a Blessed Christmas!
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