When I was a young boy, our
family was terribly poor. Father had no job because he was going through law
school at the University of Utah. He had a wife and three young sons.
Grandfather and Grandmother knew that we would have no Christmas if we did not come
down to the farm in Millard County. So all of our family took the train from
Salt Lake to Leamington, Utah. Where the money came for the tickets, I will
never know.
Grandfather and Uncle Esdras
met us at the railroad crossing in Leamington with a team of big horses to pull
the open sleigh through the deep snow to Oak City. It was so cold that the huge
horses had icy chin whiskers, and you could see their breath. I remember how
old Jack Frost nipped my nose, and the extreme cold made it hard to breathe. Grandmother
had heated some rocks and put them in the bottom of the sleigh to help keep us
warm. We were wrapped and tucked into some heavy camp quilts with just our
noses sticking out. Accompanied by the tinkle of bells on leather straps on the
harnesses of the horses, we musically traveled from Leamington over the 10
miles to Oak City, where our beloved grandfather and grandmother lived. So many
dear ones were there that we could hardly wait to arrive. When we got there, it
was warm and wonderful and exciting.
In the corner of the living
room was the Christmas tree, a cedar cut from the hillside pasture. It was
already partially decorated by Mother Nature with little berries that helped
give it a strong smell. Our decorations were popcorn strings made by pushing a
needle and thread through popcorn. The strings had to be handled carefully or
they would break and strew popcorn all over the floor. We also had paper chains
to put on the tree, made by cutting up old Sears and Montgomery Ward catalogs
with the paper links pasted together with flour paste. The sticky flour paste
got all over our hands, faces, and clothes. I wonder why they didn’t put sugar
in it! With cream it could also have been served for mush. I do not remember
any presents under the tree. Under the tree were popcorn balls made with
strong, homemade molasses. When we bit into the popcorn balls, it felt like
they were biting back.
On Christmas Eve we all
gathered around the woodstove enjoying the warm comfort of the fire and the
pleasant aroma of the burning cedar wood. One of the uncles gave the opening
prayer. We sang carols and hymns. One of our aunts read of the birth of Jesus
and of the “good tidings of great joy” (Luke 2:10). “For unto you is born this
day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11).
Grandfather and Grandmother then told us how much they loved us.
The next day was Christmas,
and we had a glorious dinner. But before we ate, we all got down on our knees
for family prayer. I was so hungry. Grandfather prayed for the longest time.
You see, he had much to pray for. He prayed for moisture because there was a
drought in the land, and the crops had been meager. The fall grain had been
planted in the dusty ground. What harvest there was could not be sold for much
because of the low prices caused by the Great Depression. The taxes on the farm
were delinquent because there was no money to pay them. He also prayed for our
large family, his cattle and horses, pigs and chickens, turkeys—he prayed over
everything.
During Grandfather’s long
prayer, my youngest uncle became restless and gave me an irreverent pinch,
hoping that I would shout to make things more exciting.
For dinner we had a huge tom
turkey stuffed with delicious dressing. There was no celery in the dressing
because we had only the ingredients that could be produced on the farm. But the
dressing had plenty of bread, sage, sausage, and onions. There was an abundance
of potatoes and gravy and pickles, beets, beans, and corn. Because Grandfather
could trade wheat to the miller for flour, there was always fresh baked bread.
To stretch the food, we were encouraged to take one bite of bread for every
bite of other kinds of food. We had chokecherry jelly and ground-cherry jam.
For dessert we had pumpkin
and gooseberry pie. It was all delicious. As I look back on that special
Christmas over a lifetime, the most memorable part was that we did not think
about presents. There may have been some handmade mittens or a scarf given, but
I do not recall any presents. Presents are wonderful, but I found that they are
not essential to our happiness.
I could not have been
happier. There were no presents that could be held and fondled and played with,
but there were many wonderful gifts that could not be seen but could be felt.
There was the gift of boundless love. We knew God loved us. We all loved each
other. We did not miss the presents because we had all these glorious gifts. It
made me feel so wonderful and secure to belong and to be part of all that went
on. We wanted nothing else. We did not miss the presents at all. I never
remember a happier Christmas in my childhood.
We all enjoy giving and
receiving presents. But there is a difference between presents and gifts. The
true gifts may be part of ourselves—giving of the riches of the heart and
mind—and therefore more enduring and of far greater worth than presents bought
at the store. Among these true gifts are some our family shared on that boyhood
Christmas . . .: the gift of peace, the gift of love, the gift of service, the
gift of self, and the gift of faith. All of us enjoy wonderful gifts from God,
which, if developed, can be enjoyed by others.
At this Christmas season, so
many of us have enjoyed the musical and literary gifts of Handel, Dickens, and
many others. The sharing of these natural gifts blesses both the giver and the
receiver. This Christmas and every Christmas will be richer by sharing and
enjoying gifts that cannot be held but only felt.
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