By LaVaun Ball
The toys, presents and memories of Christmas in 1962 have long been forgotten in many families, but not in the S. Reed Andrus family. The memory of that Christmas Eve will be remembered in our hearts for many years to come.
The usual family festivities were drawing to an end. The Christmas stories had been told, the songs sung, the presents had been opened, and the great abundance of food had been cleaned out by the large group of happy family. There was always a special excitement in the air on Christmas Eve. I still remember that "hardly can wait ’till morning" feeling that I would get in my stomach. It has not been forgotten to this day.
I was 8 years of age and the oldest grandchild in this big family. I had always felt a great abundance of love from my mother's parents and seven brothers and sisters. Christmas Eve was no exception. Every few minutes, one of them would open the door and exclaim that he or she had "seen a red light in the sky" or "thought they had heard the faint sound of bells," ’till my stomach could hardly take any more! And grandpa still insisted on going caroling. Santa would never come!
As we hopped in our frost-covered cars, we realized that it was a lot later than usual this year. The small town of Ucon, Idaho, was very quiet and cold. Some complained that we shouldn't go so late; but, my grandpa insisted that we should go to a couple of houses. After all, caroling was an Andrus tradition, and who wanted to break that?
As we drove down the small, tree-covered lane, we could see no hint of light in the tiny log cabin home belonging to "Old Jim." Old Jim was a good friend. He had been a hard-working railroad man in his early years and was one of little means, but he had a big heart. He had been a widower since I could remember.
Surely, Jim wouldn't care if we didn't stop. Santa Claus would miss us for sure! Again it was mentioned, "Maybe we shouldn't stop." But my good grandfather persisted, "Just quietly gather by the bedroom window and start with 'O Little Town of Bethlehem.'" Our voices were unsteady at first, but strength lies in numbers, and it was not long until the music swelled into a beautiful harmonious melody.
"Yet in the dark streets shineth
the everlasting light,
the hopes and fears of all the years
are met in thee tonight."
There was still no light, so we continued to sing …
"Oh morning stars together
proclaim the holy birth
And praises sing to God our King,
and peace to men on earth."
The cabin door opened and in the moonlight we could see the tears shine as they ran down "Old Jim's" face. As he embraced us all, he cried … really cried. And after a time, he wiped the tears of joy from his face and said to us, "I have waited all year for you to come. You are my Christmas, and when the clock turned 9:30, I thought I had been forgotten. I was so disappointed; I had gone to bed, for there was no reason to stay up anymore."
Our hearts were filled. As he motioned us into his home and turned on the light, we could see that Jim indeed had been expecting us. His kitchen table was beautifully set, and there was everything from Christmas cake and cookies, to cold wieners cut and laid out waiting for us to eat. The cups had been carefully counted and lovingly poured with sweet apple cider, so "not to miss a one of you," he said.
As we huddled together, we pretended to be sensible as we caroled once again. Not one of us could really eat all of the goodies Jim so graciously forced upon us. Our hearts were too full and our throats all had large lumps in them.
We had been his Christmas? Not so. Jim had been ours. The gift of love we received that cold Christmas Eve in 1962 was more wonderful than anything Santa could every have left under our Christmas tree.
No comments:
Post a Comment