Christmas Records

I was sitting in the living room with my brothers and sister listening to Christmas records. Dad would not let anyone touch the records. He had sole control of what we heard.

I think my favorite -- no, I can't say that, I didn't have just one favorite.

I truly did love, though, 'Twas the Night before Christmas sung by the Fred Waring and the Pennsylvanians. http://www.magicstables.com/TwasTheNightBeforeChristmas.html You can listen to it by going to the link. I taught that song to my own children and to the children who were in the choir at Bible Baptist Christian School -- where I taught for a few years.

Then another favorite record we listened to was A Christmas Carol. Remember we didn't have TV back then, so our imagination provided the visuals. This, I believe, was a two-record -- four sided set. And Lionel Barrymore played Scrooge.

There were the Christmas Carol albums -- one by George Beverly Shea -- a very young GBS, but we loved it. And of course, dad's favorite -- the Messiah.

Another favorite of mine -- a record which I believe my brother Mark now holds -- is Why the Chimes Rang. It's a real tear-jerker. See http://www.apples4theteacher.com/holidays/christmas-religious/short-stories/why-the-chimes-rang.html And try to read it without tearing up. I called my sister while I was writing this epistle and asked her if she remembered this story, because I couldn't remember the name of it, and I knew if I could find it on the web, I'd attach it, so you all could enjoy the story as I did when I was a girl. I called her at 10:50 p.m. I knew she'd be awake. She didn't remember, so that was little help.

Then I asked my husband. He hadn't a clue. Then it came to me -- I had been searching on "bells" and the word was "chimes". Once I keyed in the correct search term, I found the story very easily. So at 11:10 p.m. I called my dear sister back and told her I had found the story. Nice to be able to talk to her even that late at night.

There is one other story, and I don't think we had a record of this, but my mom or dad would read it to us almost every year. It was The Littlest Match Girl. I read it to my own children, and cried every time I read it to them. And now, I'm reading it to my grandchildren -- and yes, I still cry when I read it.