Eric and I were given a lovely Christmas book that contains a story to read and a carol to sing for each day in December leading up to Christmas. We have been reading the stories and singing the carols and it has brought such a lovely spirit into our house.
I added a story to our book that was written by Eric’s aunt last year. It’s made me think about the real gifts we can give each other, serving and loving each other.
My Christmas Eve Cry
It had been a hard year, my husband’s illness had worsened and he had declined rapidly. In July, I was talking to a friend who was comforting me and said, Carolyn, How do you cope? How do you handle all this?”
I answered, “Well, you know, I’ll tell you my secret. I cry every Christmas Eve. That night I allow myself to cry for all the sorrow, pain and anguish that happened during the year. On Christmas Eve, we usually have our turkey dinner with all the trimmings; Brent reads the Christmas Story-Luke II; we share music and joy. Later, after Brent and the children are asleep, I put out the Christmas, finish decorating the tree, wrap the presents and put them under the tree. Then, I give in to my sorrow. I can’t hold it back any longer, I sit on the couch in front of the Christmas tree and cry and cry.”
Well, time passed, the next Christmas Eve came. We had our dinner, our Christmas story and festivities. Then again, after Brent and the children were asleep, I finished Christmas, spread gifts under the tree and sat down for my Christmas Eve Cry.
Suddenly, I heard some noise in the kitchen that startled me. I was not alone someone was watching me…then I realized that I had not been alone for some time. To my surprise, I saw my 12 year old son, J.B. For how long he had been there, I don’t know. He came into the family room and sat near me on the couch slipping his arm around my shoulders and said.
"It’s for Christmas Mom. Remember last July when you told Sister Bentley that you cried every Christmas Eve? Well, I overheard your conversation and it made me sad to think that my Mother cried every Christmas Eve---on that special night. I decided then and there that next Christmas Eve, I was not going to let you cry…I have a present for you under the tree, but this is my real present.”
Then J.B. gave a prepared little message that he had practiced and it went like this: “You know, Mom, this year had been hard with Daddy’s illness and everything…and we have lost a lot, but there is one thing more important than anything else. And it is that in this family we love each other and we know that God loves us. Mother, there is nothing more important than that.”
And you know what! I did cry that Christmas Eve. Tears came, I couldn’t hold them back. I didn’t cry for self-pity or sorrow, but because I was watching a precious little boy give the purest gift of Christmas – the gift of self---the gift of love.
The 2nd annual Gingerbread House making contest took place this past weekend with Justin, Crystal, Eric & I. We had a nice time and Eric and I were proud to say that we stepped it up a little bit from last year. Our house even had a soccer field (thank you Texas – inspired from a gorgeous house we saw that actually had a real soccer field with legitimate goals and everything in their backyard – time to pack our bags and move to you know where). J & C’s house was cute and creative as always, they work very well together. Till next year, happy house building!
Brooke writes:
