Celebrate the joy of Christmas memories
Memories are such a presence at Christmas. Leaving off the subtitles, memories are either good or not. I'm going to say yes every time to sharing and hearing spirit lifting memories.
It was busy around our house at Christmas, with my dad being a pastor and mom working as a nurse. But there was always time for fudge. Those colorful tins stashed on the attic stairs with chocolate, and peanut butter, and divinity inside! I wasn't above sneaking, and rearranging the contents so they still looked mostly full.
Thinking of my mother, she sang a soprano straight from heaven. Her signature song on Christmas Eve was “Sweet Little Jesus Boy.” When we moved to Alaska being away from the familiar was especially lonely that first Christmas. I took my portable tape player out under the stars and listened to mom sing her song in the cold night air — and Christmas came to the far north.
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