Christmas Redemption

 

He had every reason to dislike Christmas.

Times were different; a different time and place, a different era. The culture was different. Holidays and celebrations were something others did. Something other people took part in. Life was tough. Hard. The luxury of a day off was not something these mountain people could afford to take.

Who was this man called Santa? He had heard about him in fleeting ways; in the brief short times he could attend school. Christmas pageants and baked goods. Dreams and tales of Christmas candies, banquets, and feasts, with unending presents. These were just some of the tall tales and stories he had heard.

Why hadn't Santa ever brought him something? Where was this Santa when he was working so hard? There would not be a tree or decorations, and no candies or gifts would be strewn throughout the house. He tried so very hard to be good, but this Santa never came to his house. He made it to other houses. He made it to houses where the kids weren't quite so nice, even the bad boys received visits from Santa. Visits were made to the houses where others lived, but never to his. Something this small child was never able to understand.

As he grew, he came to understand not only the truth about this man called Santa but the truth about the poverty in which he lived. The truth in the hard manual labor that was just expected. The truth in that way of life. The hard cold truth that required a small boy to become wise beyond his years. The truth that a childhood wasn’t lost, as much as it was stolen. The truth that forced this small child to work alongside grown men. The truth that brought him to the understanding knowledge and realization at a very young age that he wasn't going to ever be like them.

And this Santa became the least of his concerns. Until that day when his children would wonder who this Santa was. Things would be different now...

Christmas

Christmas Eve was always Christmas at our house. We never put great emphasis on Santa when I was growing up. We didn’t have Santa decorations around the house. The awe and wonder of Christmas wasn’t lost on what some would say was not believing. Trust me we believed, just not the way others may think. There was never a moment without the sheer joy and excitement of presents and gifts. 

I could tell of many Christmas memories and traditions that we participated in; shopping, school programs, church plays, baking, homemade gifts, and crafts, driving to look at lights, family gatherings, coming home, and presents mysteriously being under the tree. Everything we did was wrapped up in love for those around us. 

Presents, lots of presents. Presents that we knew in our hearts came not from a jolly man in a red suit, but from parents who loved us and worked hard to give us a carefree childhood with Christmas celebrations and traditions that never left us wondering if we were good enough or the fear and realization that we might get passed by or overlooked. 

I'm not sure who was more excited, the kids or the parents? I would like to think it’s because the parents just couldn't wait to share Christmas with the kids. We used to arrive home from my grandparents late at night, to all of the presents already placed lovingly under the tree, and we would have Christmas right then. Staying up all night and all day, sometimes crashing under the tree mid-morning on Christmas Day.

I have often wondered why I am such a Christmas freak... I blame and thank my dad.

My favorite memory is how my dad taught us to celebrate Christmas. We used to have the biggest tree he could find. It had to reach the 9ft ceiling and beyond. I remember having to cut the bottom off more than once and nailing it to the floor. Other times putting it in the stairway curve to reach as high as it could, up past the second-story landing.

Then there were the presents...LOTS and LOTS of presents. I've said many times how my aunts used to say it should have been against the law all the presents that we would receive! Others have said they have never been where there was so much Christmas. My parents loved Christmas and us kids so much. We truly were blessed. 

My father never lost the wonder of a child in any aspect of his life. He was brought up with meager surroundings at best. He understood that Christmas was all about unconditional love freely given. He worked extremely hard all his life, to not only give us what we needed, but what we wanted and then so much more. What he wanted us to have. The reality of a safe warm home filled with love. A love without restraints or conditions. He loved us simply because he just did. 

We were not spoiled. He taught us the true gift of giving. So many people have told me he was the most generous person they have ever met.

My dad never even celebrated Christmas until he met my mom. No gifts, no tree, no Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. No Santa. Nothing. He was 18 years old before he ever received a single Christmas present. An ID bracelet with his name Jess engraved on the front and Love, Judie inscribed on the back. A timeless gift full of love and treasured for a lifetime.

In a world full of gadgets, get-me's, and gotta-haves; he grasped the Christmas meaning. The greatest gift of all; Love, freely given.

As a result, we go all out when we celebrate Christmas. Family. Food. Decorations. Noise. Presents. All the bells and whistles. A celebration filled with Love.

Now I have come to understand what he came to understand all those years ago. See, he understood better than most, A simple man born into extreme poverty, who became richly blessed in every way possible. Highly favored.

Because

He accepted the greatest gift of all, the free gift of Christmas, simply put, 

Jesus.

Leaving a legacy of love and so very many lessons in my heart. The call and charge to never lose the wonder, awe, and heart of a child.

I am grateful and blessed to have learned the greatest lessons from my father. 

Merry Christmas!

Love,

Audrey