All They Want for Christmas

All she wants is the doll. She gazes longingly at it,  featured there in the Sears Christmas Catalog. The doll is beautiful. Long golden curls that you can brush and style, eyelashes that fringe ocean blue eyes--eyes that open and close, mind you! The doll comes dressed in a nightgown in the softest shade of pink she has ever seen.  A blanket and bottle were included. Of course optional equipment could be purchased; clothes, such as the red velvet dress or the yellow gingham, stroller, high chair, and a myriad of other things, but all she wants is the doll.

He dreams about the Lincoln log set day and night. The page, torn from the catalog, is posted above his bed where he can lay and stare at it, imagining all the fun things he will build. Cities surrounded by fortified walls, castles with towers, and of course, the basic log cabin. He could use his G.I. Joe figures to live in the houses he would build and maybe even ‘borrow’  a girl figure from his sisters stash so there would be a damsel in distress to rescue. Yes, that Lincoln Log set was impressive and so were his dreams.

The first section she turns to when the Catalog arrives is the jewelry section. There, on the bottom of page 98, lays her heart’s desire: a gold locket. Oval, engraved and on a long fine chain, it opens and can hold two miniature pictures, or, she thinks dreamily, a lock of her lover’s hair. She blushes at the thought. She doesn't have a boyfriend. And if she did, she would probably be studying the rings a few pages over. She carefully folds the corner of the page down, the locket circled with a yellow marker.

He wasn't usually fussy. But he knows what he wants and if he gets his wish this year, wow, will he ever be happy! The signature red Swiss Army Knife was every boy scouts dream. Sure he has a knife already, but this--THIS was the REAL THING! He can clearly see how much quicker he will be able to cut through a rope. The bottle opener would come in handy on a warm day when you wanted to buy an ice cold coke from Sam’s Mini Mart. It had a screwdriver, tweezers, magnifying glass and even a toothpick! And it came with the official Boy Scout Logo on the handle. Oh it was a fine tool and wouldn't it look impressive tucked neatly in its sheath and strapped to his belt? He whistles softly and slides his bookmark in between the pages and lays the catalog on top of the kitchen table where his dad will surely see it.

It was dark long before she struggled through the door, one arm filled with a paper bag of groceries, purse, and the mail, the other hand fumbling for the keys. Once inside she collapses on the couch and lets out a huge sigh. Oh, what she would give for someone else to cook supper. As she slips off her shoes her eyes fall on the Christmas Catalog lying on the coffee table. She massages her foot and shakes her head wryly. What she wants wont be found in there. Peace on earth? Oh, give me a break! I just want what every working woman needs: my own housewife! She wearily rises from the couch and heads to the kitchen.

He'd almost missed the little chapel tucked in the cedar grove, but a light had caught his eye just in time to make the turn, the tires crunching gravel.  As he gets out of the car, he feels the silence. Breathing in deeply he looks around. It is just as he remembers. He stands, hands on hips, head tilted back, as snowflakes drift down and gently tickle his face. There will be a Christmas Eve candlelight service tonight and his heart quickens in his chest, knowing she will be here. He hadn't written to tell her he was coming, wanting it to be a surprise, and he pats the pocket of his overcoat to assure himself that the little square box is where it should be. This will be the best Christmas ever…as long as she says yes.

And in the heavens, gazing through the portal, the One who has given life to these individuals, yearns for his beloved children to recognize the greatest gift ever given; the gift that signifies why we celebrate Christmas at all.

Cards on the Table

Single parenting sucks. I don’t normally use the slang of my children, but I can’t think of any other word to describe how I feel these days. As justified as I believe I am for divorcing my children’s father, it still carries pain, shame and guilt. Compounding this is the fact that my 15 year old son Nolan, has chosen to live with his dad while 12 year old Cara remains with me. Single parents and children divided makes for some funny math.

At the table, I move a stack of mail, car keys and overdue library books. A box of unopened Christmas cards remains. The cards, bought at last year’s clearance sale, are generic and secular. I am not sure how to sign them so there they sit. 

After dinner Cara spreads her books out on the table and studies. I spread out my address book, list and the Christmas cards and reflect.

In years passed the cards would bare four names: Cara, Nolan, their dad’s and mine. I stare at what I have written on the card: Love Kate & Cara. It feels wrong somehow. I have two children. How can I not sign Nolan’s name? But adding it, when he's not living with us would feel like a sham somehow. I procrastinate by making tea for me, hot cider for Cara. We talk and then get ready for bed. The cards remain on the table.

A week goes by and the unsigned cards nag at me. I decide it will be easier to not send any and move them to storage.

Christmas has come again and I am looking for the box with the nativity figures when I re-discover the unsent, unsigned cards from the previous year. I bring them out to the kitchen and unceremoniously dump them on the table right next to the pile of this year’s Christmas cards. I bought them last week and they feature a stable, angels and a bright star. I have started addressing envelopes. This past summer Cara went to live with her dad so the only name that should go on the card would be mine. I stare at what I have written: Love & blessings, Kate. It looks sad and depressing. I ball the card up and toss it in the trash. I make hot chocolate with a generous splash of Bailey’s Irish Cream and watch TV until bedtime. The cards remain on the table.

Each night when I come home the cards mock me until finally I add them to the box of donations going to Goodwill.

Another year. Another Christmas. A lot has happened this year.... I am engaged to Mr. Wonderful! We are busy with wedding plans. Christmas cards are an unnecessary distraction. Instead, we spend evenings at the table addressing elegant wedding invitations and making eyes at each other. Will and Joey accompany their dad, Nolan visits often and Cara moves back. The table is a noisy, happy place. We sip champagne and sparkling cider and laugh.

I make numerous trips to the post office and hum Christmas tunes. It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

Christmas rolls around again. Our house is full. In addition to my husband and two stepsons, both my children are living with us. We pose for a family snapshot and have it made into glossy Christmas cards. We gather each evening at the table and sign ALL our names on the cards. A bold question mark is added representing the new little someone growing inside me. We indulge in eggnog and seal the envelopes shut.

The Advent Cradle

“One more box and I’ll be done.” She straightened, trying to ease the knots in her back.

Caroline had been toting boxes down from the attic most of the morning and had earned the right to put her feet up and sip a sweet cup of flavored coffee. The only thing left to bring down was the cradle and it was too heavy for her to lug by herself. She would have Spence tend to it when he came in.

Hand crafted from oak, the cradle had been passed down through several generations. Every one of their five children had slept in it.

She heard the door and felt the cold rush of wind that accompanied her husband through the entrance. He deposited a load of firewood in the wood box and turned, rubbing his hands, looking expectantly for his own cup of coffee. Caroline had already poured it and they sat at the wide kitchen table in companionable silence for a time.

Spence noticed the boxes stacked in the hallway. “Need me to bring down the cradle?”

“If you could before the kids get home from school, I would sure appreciate it.” She moved to the stove to stir a pot of beans that simmered there. “I know I say this every year, but I can’t believe it’s that time already!”

Spence nodded in agreement as he made his way over to the stairs. She went to the cupboard for a dust cloth. It would need a wipe down before it was put in place.

The tradition of the cradle’s place in Christmas was as old as the cradle itself, if not more. Caroline could recall many a lean winter where gift exchanges were few but she could not imagine a Christmas without the cradle.

Spence deposited the cherished rocker near the fireplace. “I’ll bring in a bundle of straw when I come up for lunch.” He kissed the top of her auburn head and headed back to the barn. Caroline hummed as she dusted the cradle, and memories of years past stirred with the swirls of dust.

She must have been about four or five when the tradition of the cradle in her families Christmas celebration was made clear to her. The cradle had been placed in a prominent place in the house, along with a bucket of straw.

“This is the season of Advent” explained her mother. “Advent means the arrival of something important. We need to prepare the cradle for the arrival of the baby Jesus.” 

They were kneeling by the cradle. “Each time you do an act of kindness without being told, you may slip a piece of straw into the cradle. Each time you show love to someone, you may slip a piece of straw into the cradle. If we all do our part in showing love and kindness, by the time Christmas Day arrives, the cradle will be full of straw; a nice warm soft bed for the baby Jesus.”

Sure enough, without exception, the cradle was always brimming with straw by Christmas Eve. Caroline’s children loved the Advent Cradle part of Christmas. Often, to Caroline, it was the best part. With a farm to run and each one having an important part in the daily chores, harmony was essential. The Advent Cradle was a little added incentive, especially during a time of year when outdoor chores became especially tedious.

By mid day Caroline had arranged the straw bucket and cradle, set up the crèche and baked the first batch of sugar cookies. Together with the children, the rest of the house would be decorated a little bit each evening. The bulk of it would take place when the tree was brought home the week before Christmas. Breaking it up into small sections helped keep anticipation high.

As she rolled out cookie dough she welcomed the season with an attitude of reflection. As she listened to carols she thought of those who were most important to her and how she could best show love to them during Advent. She thought of what is must have been like that night in the stable. A barn filled with animals, a manger of straw, astonished shepherds, two amazed parents and a blazing star in the sky!

She saw the school bus and listened to the excited voices of her children growing louder as they neared the old farmhouse. Caroline smiled, waiting for their entrance and acknowledgment of the cradle as the signal that Advent Season had begun.

Duck A L'range

Setting the mood: Choose a simple but elegant menu. A beautifully set table can be created with artistic place cards, Christmas themed serving dishes and an impressive holly infused evergreen center piece. Plan for Christmas music to be playing softly in the background.

The writer pauses and takes another sip of her tea. A smile curls her lips. As she continues to pen instructions, the memory of a Christmas past teases her.

They were house sitting for friends and the residence, well outfitted with fine china and a state of the art kitchen, was not familiar. Nor was cooking or setting a perfect table for the young bride. It would be her first Christmas as a wife. Her sister and brother-in-law were in town for the holidays and she so wanted to impress them. 

Using made to order handcrafted invitations would add a distinctive flair to this event.

The handmade invitation with the promise of a special home cooked meal was all the more unique because it would feature something none of them had ever eaten. 

Duck a L‘orange. So exotic! The duck, a plump memory from last summer, had been waiting in the freezer for just the right occasion. The recipe, pulled from the cookbook found in the state of the art kitchen, sounded slightly tricky but oh so lovely. Fruited Jell-O, mashed potatoes and warmed rolls would round out the meal followed by German chocolate cake! Yum! 

Everything about the decorations for the celebration should be festive. Silver & red make a striking combination. Choose candles in matching colors and use the theme throughout the house. Mulled hot cider can add a special spice to the air but you will also want a bottle of chilled wine on hand.

There were candles that night, she recalls, although she couldn't find candlesticks, so had fallen back on the little room freshener candles she borrowed from the bathroom. Sparkling cider replaced wine, for at 20 years of age she still could not legally buy alcohol. She hadn’t thought to send her husband. 

Proper preparation is important so that you will be able to focus your attention on your guests.

She had labored over the duck, allowing for a slow defrost. The skewers needed for the neck skin challenged her but she got innovative with large safety pins. Unfortunately, she was so intent on glazing the duck as often as she could, that the potatoes overcooked and by the time she rescued them, were a soupy mess. They were hard to drain without losing the whole pot so she added instant potato flakes she found in the pantry, along with lots of butter and a splash of milk. It still looked like potato soup but there wasn’t time to cook a new batch. At least the rolls, the brown and serve variety would be-- oh no! From the corner of her eye she saw flames and rushed to the stove just in time to pull out a burning paper bag. So much for the rolls. 

The cake, however, was perfect. Thick frosting hid the slight indentation in the center. “Thank you Betty Crocker” she murmured. Only 10 minutes till their guests were due to arrive. She pulled off the stained apron and brushed the wrinkles out of her red silky blouse. 

Consider serving your dinner family style, rather than serving plates individually from the kitchen, if the group is fairly large sized. Allow enough food for serving seconds.

The writer chuckles as she mulls over that last line.

For the duck had appeared impressively plump when dressed in its feathers. Now as her husband gallantly set about carving, it seemed mighty lean. 
Skinny. 
Bony. 
As golden as it looked and as heavenly as it smelled, it wasn’t anything now but skin and bones.

A half set jell-o muddled together with soupy potatoes, as the foursome pretended to eat orange scented meat. 

Allow time for the meal to settle; serve dessert in the living room with coffee or a dessert wine.

The mortified young bride gave up and pushed her plate away. “Dessert anyone?” 

Eager nods of assent sent her scurrying to the kitchen for the cake.

The writer lays down her pen. The “Dummies Guide to Holiday Entertaining” is nearly finished. And there is a fresh chocolate cake in the kitchen calling her name.

Advent Sunday ~ Love

Scripture Reading: 2 Kings 5. 1-14, John 6. 1-15

4^th Sunday in Advent: Love

 (Re-light candles 1, 2, 3)

Love; that intense emotion that has kept both poet and musician inspired for centuries. According to philosophers, the only goal in life is to be happy. And there is only one happiness in life; to love and be loved.

A quote from Mother Teresa says “the hunger for love is much more difficult to remove then the hunger for bread”

Today our scripture reading will tell of the love that is shown through actions. A young servant girl encourages her master to seek healing from the prophet Elisha. A young boy is moved to share his small lunch with the hungry crowd.

We can learn a lot about love just by watching our children. They love unconditionally, without reservation or hesitation. Jesus says that unless we come with acceptance like a child we will not inherit the kingdom of God.

The greatest display of love ever known to mankind came in the form of a helpless babe: for God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that who so ever believes in him shall not perish but have everlasting life.

(Light the 4^th candle)

Prayer: God of Love, you showed us the ultimate in love when you sent your son to live among us. You showed us love in the sacrifice of your only son. You show us love through the forgiveness of our sins, past, present and future. Hallelujah, Amen!

Advent Sunday ~ Joy

Scripture Reading: Genesis 21. 1-7

3^rd Sunday of Advent; Joy

 (Relight candles 1 and 2)

Joy is an emotion evoked by well- being, success or by the prospect of possessing what one desires.

Today our scripture reading will tell of the joy that comes with the birth of a child.  Abraham and Sarah in their golden years, bring forth a son. They named him Isaac, a name that exudes joy, as its meaning is almost literally ‘laughter”.

Rachel, who also waited years for a child, received what she desired, when she gave birth to Joseph. The bible tells us that Jacob too was filled with delight; ‘he loved Joseph more than all his other sons because he was the child of his old age.’

As we celebrate Advent we too look forward with joy, as we trust in God to always keep his promises.

(Light candle 3)

Prayer: God of Joy, how you delight in keeping your promises. We can trust You to keep your word!  You gave children to Sarah and Rachel, and then fulfilled the ultimate promise: your son, our Savior.  Thank you for the joy we receive when we turn to you. In spite of troubles you tell us to consider it all joy. In the face of testing, we find strength in your joy. Amen.

Advent Sunday ~ Peace

Welcome the Season of Advent with me. Advent means 'coming' or arrival. A few years ago I wrote, with the help of my sister, four Advent readings, one for each Sunday before Christmas. Today's reading is for the Sunday of PEACE.

Scripture Reading: Book of Ruth, Luke 1. 26-38

2^nd Sunday of Advent: Peace

(Re-light 1^st candle)

Peace is the feeling within us that is not dependent on time, people, place or any external object or situation.

Today, our scripture reading will tell of the peace that resided in two women who have the unique privilege of being among the 5 women named in the linage of Christ. 

Ruth, who was willing to leave her homeland to go with her mother in law, conveys peace. In the midst of a life turned upside down by circumstance, not knowing what lies ahead, she trusts in her mother-in-law Naomi and Naomi’s God to provide for them.

Mary, the mother of Jesus, upon hearing the news that she had been chosen to bring the Messiah into the world tells the angel, “I am the Lord’s servant and I am willing to accept whatever he wants. May everything you have said come true.’’ Despite the incredibleness of how this would come to be, and how she would explain this to her family, Mary trusts God.

Philippians 4.6-7 tells us to bring our troubles to the Lord and in doing so we will experience God’s peace which is far more wonderful then the human mind can understand.

(Light 2^nd candle)

Prayer: God of peace, as we await your return we face a world of uncertainties. How good it is to know that you will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, whose thoughts are fixed on you.  What peace it brings to know you walk through the deep waters and great troubles with us.  In a life of chaos and unrest we can find peace as we rest in you.

Advent Sunday ~ Hope

Welcome the Season of Advent with me. Advent means 'coming' or arrival. A few years ago I wrote, with the help of my sister, four Advent readings, one for each Sunday before Christmas. I share with you now the first reading, for today, which is the Advent Sunday known as HOPE.

Scripture Reading: Daniel Chapters 1-3.

The first Sunday of Advent is Hope.

Hope is a belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one’s life. Hope implies perseverance—believing that a positive outcome is possible even when there is some evidence to the contrary.

Today our scripture reading will tell of the hope found in 3 young men who faced certain death because they refused to bow down to a false god. While the outcome looked anything but positive, they clung to hope… a result of their faith in God.

The death of Christ looked anything but hopeful to the handful of disciples who stood at the foot of the cross in stunned disbelief that this could happen to the man they had come to know as the Son of God.

Yet, hope was reborn when Christ overcame death, a hope that continues to live on in each of us as we follow Christ.

As we light the first candle of Advent, we wait with expectancy, anticipation, longing, and most of all hope… the hope of eternal life offered in Jesus.

(Light the 1^st candle)

Prayer: God of Hope, we long for your return just as your chosen people longed for your arrival.  You have plans for us, plans for good, not for disaster, plans to give us a future and a hope.  No matter how hopeless things may seem here on earth, in you we have eternal hope.  We wait with expectancy for the unexpected.

Amen

The Christmas Gift

 *I wrote this originally several years ago for a Faithwriters Challenge and today as I was considering all-things Christmasy, I dug this out and decided to give it a little work over and share it here. Based on true happenings, with some artistic liberties woven in....

Christmas. Too often too full of stress, guaranteed to steal the show and tear our focus away from the true meaning of this special time of year. My husband and I were constantly looking for ways to combat it.

When we decided to not exchange presents but instead give a gift to someone truly in need, Annie was the first person who came to mind. Everyone in our small community knew who Annie was; a homeless woman who lived in a rattle-trap old truck with her two dogs, my heart ached every time I saw her.

I knew only a little about her; she’d spent time in a mental hospital, had children who had been taken into foster care. She received government aid but worked to supplement it picking pine cones and selling them to the local sourcing establishment. When she wasn’t in the forest, she was behind the wheel of her truck, navigating logging roads, in search of quiet safe places to spend the night. 

I’d had a few conversations with her over the years. Occasionally she would stop by and ask to use our phone or if we could spare $5 for gas. She was always faithful in repaying us but I would have given it to her regardless. 

We decided to put together a gift basket for Annie. I picked out a heavy blanket, thick socks, a new hairbrush, and treats for the dogs. Word got out in our church of what we were doing and other gifts were added. A flashlight and extra batteries, a gas card. Soon the basket was overflowing. 

It was our custom to go caroling in December and then return to the church for cider and cookies. Annie took to parking in town when the weather got nasty, so I decided to invite her to join us for the party, thinking we could give her the gift basket then. I knew she kept a post office box so I wrote out a simple invitation and headed out to mail it. 

As I neared the post office I saw a familiar figure. Annie was just exiting her truck. Her dogs were yelping in excitement, lunging at the cracked open window. I stood still for a moment as I took in the scene. What must it be like to live out your every day in that small confinement?  As Annie got closer, I averted my eyes, not wanting to embarrass her with my sympathy. Instead I fumbled with my coat pocket, producing the letter I was intending to mail to her. 

As I explained about the invitation her eyes widened. “You‘re going Christmas Caroling?” The longing in her voice was unmistakable. I knew that just inviting her to the party wasn’t enough.

“Would you like to join us Annie?”  

“Oh, no!” she exclaimed “I can’t sing, but my ma taught me the words to lots of those songs and I remember them!” 

“You can still come along if you like. There will be lots of folks who claim they can’t sing.” I reassured her. 

She looked away. I could see the muscle in her jaw working. 

“Once, when I was a kid, I remember some people came out to my ma’s place and brought us a Christmas turkey dinner. It was real nice. Me and my little brother each got a present. But the best part was when they stood outside on the lawn and sang “Silent Night’ to us. That’s what I’ll always remember.”

In a flash I recognized her true longing.

The night for the caroling party arrived with a good turnout. The weather was even cooperating; a light dusting of snow to set the mood. I spied Annie’s truck parked in the shadows alongside the church fence. I nudged my husband. With a sweep of his arm he got everyone’s attention and made further motions to indicate we should follow him.

The truck cab was dark but I could see her outline. We fanned out around the front cab of the truck. With a tremble in my voice I started: “Silent Night, Holy Night, all is calm, all is bright.’’ As the rest of the voices joined in I saw Annie rolling down her window.

When we were finished I stepped forward holding up the basket, “Merry Christmas Annie.”

She climbed out of the truck accepting the basket without really even looking at it. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. 

“You sang to me.’’ She said in whispered awe. “That’s what I’ll always remember.”