Monday Memories--A special Christmas

Christmas is a time to bring out the memories, isn‘t it? This one is quite fresh--last night, in fact. It is so easy to let special times slip by without mention--we think we'll always remember. That’s why a diary (this blog) is so useful when the memory track becomes so jumbled, scratchy and full--and a thesaurus might help too, because some superlatives can be overused.

Our couples group from church, called SALT (Serving and Learning Together), met for dinner at members’ lovely, traditional home in south Arlington. Treasures collected over many years of marriage--through lean and plenty--decorated every room. Nothing splashy or over done, but lovingly displayed each year--a framed needlepoint, tiny ceramic Santa Claus, an angel. Each one precious with stories to tell. Our hostess provided a delicious pork loin, and the other couples brought appetizers, salad, potatoes and dessert. Every morsel was prepared lovingly and to perfection--the wonderful smells wafted throughout the house. However, it was the Christian fellowship that made the night so special. The five couples sat around the dining room table, beautifully set with seasonal treasures, with just the right touches of holiday greens and red candles, china, silver angel napkin rings and goblets.

After catching up on our activities since we last met in November, the talk easily flowed to Christmases past and what was special “in the old days.” Many of us had parents born in the early years of the 20th century (my parents were born in 1912 and 1913, as were those of several others), and we told what modest celebrations they had--perhaps an apple or an orange, a plate of cookies or a new outfit. In the case of my mother, nothing, because Christmas wasn’t observed in her family when she was small except to go to church. Then we moved along the years to our own childhood Christmases, then our children’s, and now the grandchildren’s--with the bag of gifts growing with each year. It’s probably our age, but we all seemed a bit nostalgic for a time when we had less! There were funny stories, too--one man told of carefully slitting the wrapping, peeking inside the boxes, and then meticulously rewrapping the presents; another recounted the time his little brother unwrapped all the beautiful presents their mother had so artistically wrapped and placed under the tree--the day before Christmas. One woman told of an uncle who would come by with sleigh bells, circle the house, jingling them outside while the children were in bed (but still awake), banging on down spouts if someone had already fallen asleep. Was it the laughter, the candles, the sharing--but something felt like a warm cozy blanket in that room.

Then we moved to the living room to sing carols--our hosts have a gorgeous piano and a room that complements it in color and size. One of our members is an accomplished pianist and church musician. I love to watch her play--the graceful hands, the studied, far away look on her face, so I stood by the piano (Oh, it was beautiful!). We shared more stories and then prayer concerns. I’ve been in many groups over the years, but this one seems the most spiritually mature, the most dependent on God for strength and comfort through prayer and service.

I was opposite the tree. The lights in the room were dim--or seemed that way--and as the evening progressed, the tree appeared to glow. The lights reflected against the silvery roped strands, sending reflected light from the ornaments into the room. I’ve seen hundreds of Christmas trees in my life, but on this special night with friends, celebrating the first advent of our Lord, this tree was the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. About 9 p.m. we held hands and prayed, then moved out into the starry, crisp night. Yes, a wonderful Christmas memory to pack away and treasure.