My most memorable Christmas occurred several years ago. My husband and I, two of our married
daughters and their families spent Christmas at our cabin on the Kettle
River. The snow was deep that year, but
we were able to get through on the long, gravel driveway. The woods hushed themselves in the beauty and
serenity of a gently falling snow. Every
branch of the pine trees were laden with
snow and stood in stark contrast to the dark gray skies of late afternoon.
We unpacked, put a fire in the wood-burning stove, and
settled in for the night.
The next morning, Christmas Eve day, we bundled up and
plodded through the snowy woods looking for the right tree. Somehow in the woods, all the trees looked
perfect, but when we got the tree the grand-kids picked out back to the cabin
and stood it in its stand on the deck, we all agreed, “Yup! It’s a Charlie Brown tree.” Perfect.
We eagerly set to work popping popcorn, stringing
cranberries, and frosting cookie cutouts to hang on the tree while the guys
hung the lights. We knew the myriad of
birds would have a feast that Christmas.
Christmas Eve was magical.
We turned off the inside lights and watched the twinkling lights chase
each other around the tree until the grand-kids clamored to open their gifts.
After breakfast on Christmas Day, we heard sleigh
bells. We scanned through the woods,
looking. Just then our neighbor, with
his two Belgian horses hitched to an old-fashion sleigh made their way down our
driveway. Glen sat so proper in his long black coat and Russian hat as the
horses stepped through the snow – jangling their bells.
We scurried to put on boots and jackets, scarves and
mittens, and dashed out the door. We
piled onto the sleigh snuggling together and went for a real sleigh ride on the
path through the woods.
That Christmas, simplistic and family-filled, stands out
from all the glitzy Christmases past. No
crowds. No hustle and bustle. No glitz.
Just a simple Christmas where love lights gleam.
It reminds me of another very simplistic Christmas when a
young couple spent a rather different night in an over-crowded, obscure,
village town. Bethlehem. O, there was hustle and bustle, all right,
but Mary and Joseph were not a part of it.
In fact, there was no place in town for them to stay. No room in the inn. Just a simple stable with sweet-smelling hay
and animals crowding together for warmth.
To Mary and Joseph, it was a quiet night, but what happened
that night was most extraordinaire.
Mary gave birth to her first-born Son – the King of kings, God in the
flesh! No fanfare. No commotion. Yet, His birth was so miraculous that it is
still celebrated more than two thousand years later.
But, before Mary could join Joseph, several men riding
camels arrived. “We have come to worship the King,” they said.
“Come inside,” Joseph invited.
The men from the east brought gifts – gold, frankincense,
and myrrh. There was no fanfare. No glitz.
Just a quiet celebration of love.
It’s the quiet,
simple Christmases that make the best memories!
Mary must’ve thought so too – she pondered these things in her heart for
years to come.
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