I’m re-blogging A.R. Cecil’s post as I’m trying to recall my own best childhood memory of Christmas. I’m having a hard time doing that. One single memory doesn’t stand out in my mind. “Christmas Past” in my preacher’s-kid memory is a blur of preparing special music, sewing new dresses, buying/making/wrapping gifts, baking and decorating cookies, hosting the church people in our parsonage home, Christmas services at church, candy for the children, then… taking quick trips to a relatives’ home where we could “let our hair down” for a family day of feasting and exchanging gifts.
What is your best childhood Christmas memory?
“La pie – The magpie” by Monet
On that Christmas Eve, my little sister, six years younger than I, had been sent off to bed. She went gladly, since she thought Santa wouldn’t come until she was asleep. I wasn’t a bit jealous that I wouldn’t have sugar plums dancing in my head; I got to stay up and help bring the presents out of hiding and place them around the tree. My other two siblings, full-fledged teenagers, were watching Perry Como’s Christmas Special in the den.
Mother, Father and I did a good job of displaying the gifts and filling the stockings. “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” could be heard from the room down the hall.
“Are we going to get snow for Christmas?” I asked.
“They’re saying we might get a dusting,” Mom replied.
Soon my father, who had worked all day, retired for the night; and…
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Journeys To Mother Love 