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This week: Christmas Ramblings Edited by: Fyn  
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Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.~~Norman Vincent Peale
He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree.~~Roy L. Smith
I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.~~Charles Dickens
Christmas is a season for kindling the fire for hospitality in the hall, the genial flame of charity in the heart.~~Washington Irving
Christmas is a bridge. We need bridges as the river of time flows past. Today's Christmas should mean creating happy hours for tomorrow and reliving those of yesterday.~~Gladys Taber
I believe in Santa just beclause.~Unknown
They err who think Santa Claus enters through the chimney. He enters through the heart.~~Charles W. Howard
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies!~~Francis P. Church
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No doubt about it and not in the least apologetic about it either. I love Christmas time. Flat out my favorite time of year. It makes my heart sing! From the first magical snow to the shopping and finding that really cool 'thing' that I know will make them smile, to opening up our home because no one should be alone at Christmas. We almost always have extended family here for dinner...you know, the friends who aren't really family, but are just the same.
This year we will be having a friend of my daughter's joining us who has never had a 'Christmas.' Never had a stocking or a stuffed animal under the tree. Never had 'Christmas Jammies.' Never had all those (to others, perhaps) the goofy traditions that each family has and enjoys. (even if they won't admit it!) It doesn't matter in the least that this is one of those 'tight' Christmases. Smiles are priceless. She's coming over Christmas Eve and spending the night. At twenty-some years old she will get Christmas jammies to open on the 24th, as we all do. There will be a stocking with her name on it, cookies and milk and Christmas Magic!
Yes, I really enjoy this holiday. I remember seeing Santa Claus and his reindeer fly when I was three years old at 'The North Pole' in Upstate New York. No one will ever convince me that I didn't. I know what I saw! When I was a bit older than kids at school were all self-important and spreading horrible tales about Santa being a fake, I went to my dad to ask him about it. He told me that when folks stopped believing in Santa or even, the idea of Santa, that they stopped getting gifts. Any gifts. Ever. Didn't matter if it was a Christmas gift or a funny surprise or finding the first daffodil, that the sheer magic of the moment would be lessened. They might get presents, but they wouldn't get gifts. Dad was right. I still find joy and magic in that first snowfall, in seeing a deer in the woods, in a sassy new puppy or the grandkids or the great-grands.
~~  ~~
I remember when my youngest daughter, she who is bringing our guest this Christmas, was ten. My mom and I dragged her, grumbling and pouting to the mall for one last picture with Santa. She was NOT happy. We prevailed and she saw Santa and we got the picture. When he asked her what she wanted for Christmas, she whispered something in his ear. He nodded, she hopped off his lap and she and my mom went off in one direction and I, in another.
A few minutes later, while was was busy in the bookstore filling my basket, there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned to find Santa standing there.
"Do you know what 'purple Christmas magic' is? he asked in a worried voice.
"Yes, although we've never had purple before." I explained that the 'magic' was metallic confetti in various shapes --stars or trees or candy canes--that we scattered around the presents, in the stocking and led from the plate of cookies to the tree.
"You daughter said, 'If you are really real, then all I want for Christmas is purple Christmas magic.' I hoped it would make sense to you."
I thanked him and he was back on his merry way to his throne in the Santa Village. I went and found purple magic. Christmas morning, I was awaked by a shriek! "He's real! He really is real! Mom! MOM! There's purple Christmas magic EVERYwhere! I didn't tell anyone except Santa. I told him if here were real, he'd bring me purple Christmas magic and he did!"
~~  ~~
Even when I never expected Christmas to be magical, it always turned out to be anyway. Yes, I had to look a little harder for the magic and yes, it showed up differently, but it was always there. My first Christmas in Alaska, I was stationed at Ft. Richardson. I had a six week old daughter and my husband was, thankfully, elsewhere.
On December 23rd, I remember flying in a chopper above the Arctic Circle for some mission or another and flying over North Pole, AK. Although mid-afternoon, it was midnight dark and we could see the town even when we were fifteen miles out as the glow lit the sky. There was a lot of good-natured joshing about in the chopper, but there was also an underlying sentimental soberness as none of us would be 'home' for Christmas.
That evening, when we'd returned to base, I stopped at a Christmas tree stand on my way home. I unbuckled my daughter from her car seat and we went to see if I could afford a tree. The guy was closing up shop as he had only three trees left. He told me he always leaves the last few because there is always someone who wouldn't have a tree otherwise. He saw my look and said, "Cmon, lets pick out the prettiest one left and load it on your car." I looked at the bedraggled trees, thought of Charlie Brown and smiled. Then I saw he was dragging a tree from behind the small shed. It was small, perhaps four foot tall, but full and bushy.
"This'n here is perfect!" He saw my questioning look, shook his head, (seriously!) laid a finger alongside his nose and said, "This'n has your daughter's name all over it!" He offered to bring it to my apartment a mile away when he learned it was just the two of us. "You've got ornaments and lights 'n stuff right?"
I said I'd though about making some ornament for the tree. He nodded and said he'd be over in a couple of hours as he had to run home first and eat dinner. I gave him my address and we headed off in different directions. Two hours later he and his wife showed up at my door with the tree--and lights, ornaments, a star and a huge bag full of wrapped presents because "You have to have stuff under the tree!"
"Don't cry, sweetie," his Mrs. said kindly. "Everyone needs to have a Christmas away from home at least once, just so you truly appreciate what it is to be home then! We always help out one of the soldiers at the base, but this year, we hadn't found one yet. And then you came along!"
We set up the tree together, my newborn just staring at the pretty ornaments and likely wondering what on earth was going on.
He plugged in the tree, the star and lights glowed and his wife started singing Silent Night. "Join in, young lady," he said. "Always, remember this, now, you always sing Silent Night when you light the tree the first time. It's our tradition and we share it with you. C'mon now, let me hear you sing!"
I've never thought of that song quite the same way since, and it has always meant a lot to me to begin with! Santa came. Sure, he wore jeans with yellow suspenders, had a busy dark brown beard and wore a flaming orange beaning, but he was Santa. Christmas morning, I discovered a new snowsuit for my daughter, a scarf, hat and mittens for me and a slew of toys, rompers and a big box of diapers. Then, he showed up saying he was bringing us home for Christmas dinner.
What I thought was going to be the lonliest Christmas EVER turned into one that still is high up on the 'Best Christmas Ever' list!
~~  ~~
The Christmas my eldest daughter turned one was her first Christmas back in the lower forty-eight. My folks had helped me get from Alaska to Illinois for Christmas. They were so excited to be seeing their first grandchild! It wasn't until I arrived home that I learned that my dad hadn't been working because he'd hurt his back somehow. We rolled pennies to buy a Christmas Tree. Thirty-two dollars worth of pennies got a tree and a turkey! My daughter said her first word --money. We talked about decorating my mother's rubber tree plant but she insisted on a tree. (If the reference throws you, check out a song called High Hopes.) We'd gone in together to get K a Toddler Taxi and yes, two presents in one because she loved the box every bit as much! We each went through the Sears Wish Book and cut out the pictures of things 'we'd get if we could' and wrapped them up. (Down the road a few years, I got my folks every single thing I cut out of that catalog!) It was a stellar Christmas! Best part of all was being HOME!
~~  ~~
Christmas traditions vary from household to household. Each family enjoys differing traditions that are special to them. We always have an orange and a walnut in the toe of our stockings. This began (in my family, at least) when my grandmother was a child. The orange and the walnut were treasures difficult to come by during the cold winter months in New England. The was pre-refrigeration days. It took some doing to get fresh fruit all the way from the warm climates up north and they were shipped by train. This was a treat the 'rich' folks had on a regular basis, but my grandmother and my folks in turn did not. Having these on Christmas morning meant you were rich, not in money, but in what truly counted. There might only have been a pair of knitted mittens or socks in the stocking as well, but that treasure at the to was priceless!
I remember another Christmas that was very tight and I'd warned the kids to keep their wish lists to a couple of things they really wanted. My son asked me if we'd still have the oranges in the stockings. I answered him that "Of course, we would."
His answer to that? "That's all that matters, Mom."
All that matters. Not stuff. Not toys. But family, traditions and singing Silent Night when we lit the tree.
~~  ~~
Growing up, we always went to Midnight Mass on the 24th and then the service on Christmas Day. These days, it is harder and harder to find a service on Christmas Eve that gets out at midnight. Seems they all start a six or seven in the evening. There was something so special about the midnight service and it always seems to be snowing when you left the church, holding a lit candle and singing and it was, officially, Christmas. We'd get home, put out the milk and cookies and the kids would tumble into bed to awaken bright and blurry a few hours later. I miss that. I miss that tradition.
~~  ~~
My daughter, at thirty-dd-something, STILL wakes me up bright and blurry at o-dark-thirty. She brings me coffee and tells me she's too excited to sleep. We let the men sleep in a bit and we go sit by the tree. This year, we will be stoking the fire, letting out the dog and setting out the last few surprises. Yes, there will be Christmas magic scattered EVERYwhere! Gold stars this year. Yes, there will be stockings stuffed with oranges and walnuts at each toe. There will be a humongous stuffed caterpillar under the tree for the girl who's never had a Christmas. Each person will find a rolled scroll, hand written and tied with a ribbon in their stocking. It's from me with my private wishes for them in the coming year and acknowledging the joys and happiness they've brought in the year past. Throughout the morning there will be giggles and laughter and, probably, a few tears as well. Happy tears, Magic tears. Christmas tears.
Now, I realize that not everyone reading this newsletter celebrates Christmas.Whatever you celebrate, (or don't) I still wish you much joy! I wish for you happy moments, unexpected delights and a lightness of spirit.
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Always share this piece of me every Christmas season. The message is important this season and indeed, every day of the year.
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willwilcox says: Home is a very good word for where all things begin. Good newsletter and thanks for the feature
Bikerider  writes: What a great newsletter, especially with the coming holidays and all the memories that arrive with them. Going home has made its way into a couple of my stories. "My Father's Box of Pictures" for one. I visited my aunt in Italy and she took me to the house where my father was born and lived until he came to America at 17 years old. Standing on the steps in front of the house brought on a strong sense of connection, so I understand that even thought you didn't live in the house you visited, you still felt its connection to your mom. Happy Holidays. Bikerider
Shannon  comments: LOVED this week's newsletter, Fyn. Now I want to travel to Lexington and buy penny candy! 
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For Authors: December 13, 2017 Issue [#8644]
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