Friday, November 26, 2010

I had a fact about christmas pains

christmas pains


To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: Christmas is one of the happiest seasons of our life. It gathers us together as families, where we create special loving traditions and so many loving memories. Christmas has changed for me through the years. If I could have one Christmas wish, I’d go back in time, When our children all were young and they were home with us. We’d decorate the house with lights, put up the Christmas tree, Bake cookies; sing Christmas carols in the neighborhood. Christmas Eve we’d hold them tight, our hearts filled with love Give thanks for our family, our special gift from God. Eyes would sparkle Christmas morn’ when Dad turned on the lights, Santa left so many gifts; If I could have one Christmas wish, I’d go back in time, When our children all were young and they were home with us. She always made Christmas beautiful and exciting, in spite of our alcoholic father who played havoc with our Lives, whenever he got drunk, especially at Christmas time. My mother seemed to have a mission to make things right for us each Christmas. Each new season she started over with another Christmas charge account. Mom did not let us see the tree before Christmas morning, an old family tradition. My kids now have their tree up at least two weeks before Christmas. One Christmas Eve, when my dad was drunk, he took a Christmas tree from a lot, which had closed for the night, and hauled it home, dragging it behind him. My mother sent him back for another tree, which was equally as bare, so they tied the two together. Mom would stay up all night carefully decorating the tree and wrapping our gifts. She was dedicated to bringing excitement to our eyes, Christmas morning, when she turned on the lights to our gorgeous tree, laden with so many gifts from Santa. Christmas was special. much for her family and created Christmas memories and traditions, which I see being passed down to my grandchildren. I call it “The Miracle of the Pinecones.” Just before Christmas, several years ago, my five-year-old grandson, Jesse, and I were in Julian California where my husband was completing a job. As I held one up and turned it upside down, I realized it looked like a perfect Christmas tree, only brown. I found my Christmas snow and sprayed it white. Right before our eyes the pinecone turned into a tree, covered with a blanket of snow. The pinecones became jewel covered Christmas trees. I took another picture with my heart, of little Jesse singing ‘Away in a Manger’ and then and then proudly giving his precious tree to a smiling neighbor. I wondered if I could combine my teenagers and the trees into a service project that would bring the spirit of Christmas to these young people. I inquired if they would allow me to bring my teenagers in to sing Christmas carols to their residences and distribute the remaining Christmas trees. When we stepped into the first room of the care home, my young people were a little timid but did sing a weak verse of “Silent Night”, except for one big boy who stood in the back of the room and would not sing. As we worked our way from room to room the teenagers gradually warmed up, when they saw the smiles and tears on the faces of those dear old souls, except for the boy in the back. I will always remember the 95-year old man, who had been confined to bed for several years, accepting his Christmas tree from a group of excited teenagers. They felt the Christmas spirit and didn’t want to leave. On her lap was the pinecone Christmas tree he had carried throughout the home and had been too embarrassed to give. That year love came in the form of a pinecone tree. We must remember that Christmas is a season of giving and of gratefulness. this Christmas to make a difference in our world. I pray we will all remember the reason for our Christmas Season and do all We can to bring peace and happiness to our families and to our world. We can enjoy our own traditions and be grateful for this Christmas, a season of Memories.
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