One woman’s ‘Blessed Christmas memories’
Published 11:21 am Saturday, December 24, 2005
During one Christmas Eve church service in the reverent stillness of the night, a 13-year-old boy sings the powerful Christmas hymn “O Holy Night.”
As if accompanied by a heavenly host of angels, his solo brings tears to many eyes. Christmas Eve, that song plays in memory of that boy, my brother and every year … I cry.
Warm hats, warm coats, warm gloves, my church choir wore as we caroled throughout the cold night visiting special elderly shut-ins, singing “Jingle Bells, O Come All Ye Faithful, Silent Night.”
Faces alit with appreciative smiles, their spirits uplifted with every word that was sung filled us with the joy of knowing we had made their Christmas a memorable one.
Known for spectacular Christmas light displays is a Colorado mountain town, Estes Park.
Every Christmas, my family would make a special trip up the winding mountain road in the wintry dark. Shining brightly upon the mountain side; the star of Bethlehem, Joseph, Mary and the baby, and the Wisemen three.
But none shone brighter than the benevolent figure of Jesus holding out his arms to embrace me.
My beloved father, now in heaven is my fondest memory. For every Christmas Eve, he would lovingly read the “Christmas Story” to my brothers, my sister and me.
This precious gift he gave to us: Christmas is not the celebration of Santa Claus or presents under a beautifully lit Christmas tree.
It is, as told in his Holy Bible, the celebration of the holy birth in Bethlehem of that special little baby.
However you may celebrate Christmas, I wish you a “Merry One.”
A joyous time shared with good friends, loving family, full of fond memories to cherish in the years to come.
Your friendship to me, throughout the years, has been an endearing one.