An "Old World" Christmas Gift

A few Christmases ago, my oldest son Christopher surprised me with this ornament of an "Old World" themed Father Christmas/St. Nicholas-ish/Santa Claus ornament.

I say "Old World" because of its theme, design, colors, mood - and because it reminds me of my "Old World," when I was a young mother teaching my year-old son about the spirit of giving, especially during Advent and the Christmas season.

I'd been reading "The Year and Our Children" by Mary Reed Newland, which became the foundation for teaching my children through many experiences how to develop a relationship with God and live the liturgical year.

For Christopher's second Christmas (1983), we moved hanging up stockings from December 24 to December 5, and that tradition has continued to that day.

Sometimes people as parents, "Do you ever wish your children were young again?" For me, the answser is always, "No."

For the sweet reward of the fruit of my parenting labors in the "Old World" is witnessing the adults they've become and the values they embody in this "New World," a world that is is always new every morning  even as we are still growing and becoming.

When I hang this ornament on my little tree in my bedroom, my mind goes back in years to the toddler in sleeper pajamas, to the time our family's faith traditions began, and then wanders through the decades as God sent more children, until I step back and admire this cherished ornament in present time.

Years ago during my homeschooling years, my addition flashcards somehow disappeared. And Christopher, not quite nine years old at the time, gifted me with a new set for Christmas, scarcely containing his excitement as I opened him; he was that thrilled at giving me something he was certain I wanted more than anything in the world.

Decades later, Christopher still selects his gifts that way, as do all my children. And it's always a joy to receive them, especially since, many times, the true meaning and value is known to only the giver and the receiver.

Yes, that's a lot to pack into one ornament. But that's good.

As we plan our Christmas giving this holiday season, let's do more than put ourselves into debt.

Let's choose our gifts with thoughtfulness and care, remembering that the actual gift goes beyond the actual item and the actual cost in dollars and cents.

Happy Monday!

Finally Found (And Heard) "Home For Christmas"

I was no more than five years old when I discovered this "Home for Christmas" record album.

It was tucked away in a box on the floor of the spare bedroom closet in my childhood home at 2108 Belmont Avenue in Joliet.

That spare bedroom would become mine at age ten. But for many years before that, my sister and I were not allowed in it. So of course, I was curious as to what secrets it held.

None, actually. Just stuff stored away.

At some point over the next couple of years, I asked my mother why we didn't play that record.  She never questioned how I knew about its existence. I'm not sure she even remembered or ever played that record.

Still, my parents added it to the set of Christmas albums that my parents stacked on the turntable each year the day after Thanksgiving and played throughout the Christmas season. This initial set of records became THE official Christmas music at our house, and the Christmas soundtrack to the childhood Christmases for my sister Karen and me.

The back cover copy is just as enchanting at the music. I've read that text hundreds of times. But would today's listeners even have the patience and attention span to savor each word?

Richard borrowed the albums and recorded them all on his reel to reel recorder in the fall of 1980. For years, they played nearly continuously in the weeks leading up to and immediately after Christmas until the tape broke. 

That's how my three oldest children grew up with the same Christmas music my sister Karen and I had enjoyed so much.

Karen wound up with the records, which she recorded on cassettes and shared with us. I played them in the middle of the night all the years we delivered newspapers (until the tape broke).

That's how my three youngest children also grew up with the same music.

We can find all these records electronically now, except for one. That one is "Home for Christmas."

It took years to track down a vinyl copy. But I diligently searched online by keyword. 

Now, simply searching for "Home for Christmas" pulls up thousands of images. So I kept narrowing my search. I guessed by year. I added image description and so forth.

I finally discovered the entire album was arranged and produced by Henri René, an American and internationally acclaimed arranger, composer, conductor, and recording artist and producer.

And yet, I still couldn't locate a copy. Not vinyl. Not electronic.

For Christmas 2019, Daniel bought me a turntable and a few albums to play on it. But COVID soon followed, and we never set it up. 

In 2021, we finally found a vinyl copy of "Home for Christmas" online and ordered it. We set up the turntable and discovered we'd lost the cord in the move and had to order one.

When Christmas 2022 rolled around, we brought out "Home for Christmas" and realized we'd never ordered the cord.

Well, we finally ordered the cord. 

Last night, we finally set up the turntable, took the long-awaited album out of the sleeve and see it the turntable played.

I had to explain to Rebekah how the arm sung up and out on its own and how to selected the appropriate playing speed.

But lo and behold - the record played! And fifty years rolled back in my mind.

We didn't even listen to one song. I had worked that day; it was getting late; and I had "life things" to do in preparation for Monday.

Before we listen to "Home for Christmas," we need a safe place to even set the turntable.

I'm hoping we can find a place tonight.

Maybe.

I'm working late tonight and have meetings every night this week.

If not tonight, then...soon.

Happy Monday!

Throwback Tuesday: Five Minutes on Christmas Eve

I wrote this post a decade ago and posted it on Christmas Day 2010 and thought you might like to read it today.

Many of us (my family and I included) won't be celebrating Christmas this year the way we've celebrated it in this past.

But that doesn't mean the celebration won't have equal (or greater) value than celebrations in years past.

This particular Christmas Eve a decade ago was rather bleak. And then I did something that changed the bleakness and made this particular night one of my most favorite memories.

May this post help inspire you to stretch your creativity and make this holiday season the best so far.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Five Minutes on Christmas Eve

As I'm writing this, I get a phone call from my nearly seventeen year old daughter Rebekah. She and her fifteen year old brother Daniel and my husband Ron are done rolling newspapers and are heading home. Communion bread for this morning's Divine Liturgy is rising in the oven, and soon I'll be out in the van throwing newspapers.

This is not how we used to spend our Christmases.

Years ago, when my six children were very young, Christmas Eve meant getting together with my first husband's side of the family and enjoying a special Christmas Eve dinner of twelve traditional dishes, that represented the twelve apostles. We continued that tradition up until this year when the timing of Christmas as per the newspaper schedule and everyone's work commitments made such a gathering impossible.

Then the Holy Spirit tapped me on the shoulder as I was getting ready for bed last night, at the ungodly hour of seven o'clock (It's ungodly when you rise at midnight). I hollered down the stairs for Daniel, but he had left with my oldest son Christopher to pick up my daughter-in-law Cassie from work. So, I phoned my twenty-year-old son Timothy, who was still stuffing Sunday inserts for their customers with Rebekah.

After making sure they were near each other, I asked Timothy to put me on speaker phone. He did, and I read from the Gospel of Luke, beginning with Gabriel's appearance to Mary and ending with the shepherds. When I finished, there was a chorus of excited voices. My kids were not alone in the warehouse.

A number of other carriers were spending their Christmas Eve there, too, preparing for Sunday so they could spend Christmas Day with their families and had been touched by the reading. Timothy said, "Now it feels like Christmas. Thank you for reminding us of the reason for the season."

Whatever the reason for YOUR celebration this day, have a blessed and merry Christmas!