Christmas is a time of
memories. A time to make and a time to
share them. We grew up in a single
parent household before they were commonplace.
Our mother struggled to make ends meet, so we learned early the lesson
of balancing between the things one wants and the things one needs. Somehow, though, Mom always made sure we had
Christmas. We’d wake far too early, the
three of us crowding the landing, ready to explode down the steps like a cork
from champagne. She’d take far too long
(in our small opinions) in the bathroom, then we’d rush down to find what
seemed like a treasure trove. I don’t
remember most of the gifts; what I do remember is that, for those few moments,
the weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders and our mother was happy.
Limited resources seem to have
no bearing on unlimited love. Connie
Weyant remembers that her grandparents had very little to spare but, on
Christmas Eve 1971, her Pap went to the bank and returned with an Eisenhower
silver dollar. She never spent that
coin. As this gift was both from their
hearts and the memory is held closely in hers, she now wears it in a pendant. Each time she touches the coin, she feels
their presence and their love.
When she was quite young, Tia
Houpt wanted nothing more than Baby Alive.
She woke deep in the night to the sound of sleigh bells, with the
coveted doll in her arms. Bouncing to
the window, she must have just missed Santa, for there were fresh sleigh tracks
in the falling snow.
So many of us have fond memories
of decorating the tree. Tami Boring remembers
sorting through her grandmother’s box of ornaments with the utmost of care, so
as not to break the glass bulbs or pull the glued felt from the silly
clothespin people. Like the prize in
Cracker Jacks, her favorite – the plastic Snoopy – seemed always to be at the
bottom. She has inherited him now and,
even when she has no tree, he still makes an appearance each December.
Linda Troy so loves the tree
that, for many years, she had one in every room of the house. Yes, even the bathroom. Michelle Holt’s tree could grace the cover of
magazines with its carefully planned white, off-white, and sage green color
scheme; a far cry from the metallic silver trees of her parents’ day. Melinda Kelly’s tree takes hours to decorate;
each ornament has a story and the family enjoys recalling them as they trim. Each year, the members of her family receive
new ornaments, chosen especially for them.
The babies get the traditional 1st or 2nd year
ornament, while her daughter’s sported a pair of scissors and nail polish
(she’s a cosmetologist) and hers sons’ were little garbage trucks (can you
guess their vocation?).
Food plays an important role in
celebrating the holiday. While many of
us serve the traditional ham or turkey, Michelle follows a tradition handed
down from the grandfather who raised her: oyster stew. He made it every year for as long as he was
able. In his 89th, he shared
his recipe and taught her how to make it just right – one of the greatest gifts
she ever received. Melinda lets each of
her kids and grandkids choose a dish that she makes just for them. As her family grows, there is almost no room
at the table to eat. To emphasize the
meaning, they make and decorate a birthday cake for Jesus.
Of course, there are memories
that make us laugh. Rushing to return a
movie before attending Christmas Eve church service, Karen Thomas fell on the
ice, cracking her tailbone. After the
service (she couldn’t miss her daughter’s bell choir performance) she went to
the emergency room, where they gifted her with a donut to cushion her bruised
posterior. The moral: it is better to
pay a late fee than to rush across a parking lot in an ice storm.
Roger Vogel recalls the
Christmas when he and his siblings all had the chicken pox, but the story pales
in comparison to the year that his Grammy let the family crumple up the
wrapping paper and throw it away, rather than saving it for another year. That was also the year that she exposed the
family secret: they aren’t really Irish, as their Pap Pap had always told them.
This year, many of my friends
are celebrating their babies’ first Christmases. To Drew, Elizabeth, Rais, Ivan, Owen, Zane,
Vincent and all the others experiencing their first year: we wish you a
beautiful, blessed, and very merry Christmas.
May all your memories be laced with love.
Phil Balko is
the proprietor of Photography by Balko, a full-service studio specializing in
senior portraits, custom wedding, and lifestyle photography. To see more of his work, visit
http://philipbalko.com/. You may contact
Phil at inquiry@philipbalko.com or (814)352-5327.
