The countdown continues

It's four days until Christmas. What were we doing back in the 40s and 50s at this point? I suppose mom and dad were scurrying here and there. I know that if Sunday was more than four days before Christmas Day we (the whole family and church members) were getting ready for the Christmas program, and gift giving, and cookie exchange at church.

I loved the gift exchange because my mother would usually let me hand out HER gifts to HER friends and Sunday school students. I felt so special doing that. After all, I had curled the ribbon on the packages (see earlier post).

If Christmas was just before Sunday -- the Sunday before when we had the pageant was over -- dad would be getting ready to give his Luke 2 sermon, interspersed with Matthew 1. I learned the "Peanuts" passage very early in my life.

I can recall the excitement of Christmas. Everyday something new was going on. Most days it was a steady stream of parishioners bringing us goodies to eat. One family could be counted on to bring us two large boxes of groceries -- not the usual groceries, either. Things like olives -- large jars of olives, which we all loved. Salmon, canned. A large canned ham. Gerkins -- not my favorite pickle, but dad loved them. Lots of jelly and cheese. I remember one year my Sunday school teacher gave me a whole jar of olives all for myself. I loved her as long as she lived for her thoughtful gift. Have I mentioned that one of my grandsons loves to get olives for a gift?

Another family would stop by and bring gifts for us children -- a scarf for me and one for my sister. We always got the same present. Probably socks for my brothers. They hated getting socks for Christmas. In fact, one line I recall my brother Mark uttering many times is: "Socks, again?" He didn't like getting socks.

Still another family would drop in and bring us cookies. Polish cookies! The best ever. German cookies -- a close second to the Polish cookies. And the every popular candy-cane cookies.

And we always got boxes of chocolates. Not just one box, but boxes.

I guess maybe the excitement was due to a sugar high. Who ever heard of a sugar high back then? Sugar wasn't a bad thing. Nor was chocolate. I still believe chocolate is a wonderful vegetable, don't you?

I did learn in my early teens, though, that sugar did not agree with me, and I would get terrible migraines if I ate too much sugar or chocolate. So, I cut way back on my sweet intake. I still got headaches, but I could always pinpoint the reason to something I had eaten the day prior to the pain. Finally, when I was in my 30s I gave up sugar altogether and chocolate as well.

In my 50s I weaned myself back onto sugar and chocolate -- just a little bit. I still get headaches if I each too much chocolate, and milk chocolate is still a killer. I won't touch milk chocolate. Chocolate milk is okay, but not milk chocolate!

My mom got terrible headaches, too. So does my sister. Are migraines hereditary? I don't know. But I do know they are a royal pain!!!!

Dad, of course, had his medicines to hand out to us, if we got a headache. He seemed to think they were helpful, and maybe they were. He was big on homeopathy. He would ask us two seconds after we took the pills, "Are you feeling better now?" Huh? I haven't even swallowed the things yet and you're asking me if I feel better? Please. But that was my father.

I recalled this lead up to Christmas Eve/Christmas Day as a time when the tree would be finalized -- it had been put up probably a week before Christmas, and we decorated it in dribs and drabs. Mom wouldn't let us touch her special ornaments that she placed around the home. And, with four small children, her decorating was done late at night. We would find something new on a shelf or on the table in the morning after one of her late-night decorating sprees.

Her table was always beautiful. And she had a linen table cloth that she used only at Christmas time. She loved candles, too. So do I. They added something special to the fresh greens that lined the center of the table.

So, we're getting close to the big day. But do we remember what the big day is really for? As a child, I knew it was Jesus' birth we were celebrating. But the excitement for me back then was not Jesus' birth, but all the folderoll of the season. Now, I reflect on the excitement, and for me at this point in my life, yes there is excitement in giving, but the real excitement is in realizing what God the Father did when He sent His only begotten Son to be the Saviour of the world. Sent Him as a baby, and had Him grow up and become a man like all other humans. He was human, but he was God. Isn't that something to be excited about?