You never know...

     One thing about the holidays is that it seems to bring every type of person - except perhaps the most dedicated recluse - out onto the highways and byways of life.  The young, the middle-aged, the elderly, the sane, the nice, the weird, the rude - I guess everyone turns out during the last two weeks of December, stocking up on presents, returning presents, stocking up on food for New Year's Eve - surely this is the time when you can find every human version of the 7 dwarfs (plus the Wicked Stepmother, the handsome prince and Snow White) running in and out of stores.
    Since our son is now working at a retail store, it's been interesting to hear his stories.  Most of the customers have been nice but there have a been a few who have gone off over nothing, proving to be an equal-opportunity chewer-outer by yelling at every employee within earshot even though no employee actually did anything to offend them.  A few people, not many thankfully, walk into stores at the last minute (i.e., Christmas Eve) and look for someone to dump their frustrations on.
   And then the weird ones - again not many - just do.. weird things.  Like today, a kid came running up while our son was checking out customers, saying his parents had gone off and left him behind. Our son loaned the kid his cell phone while he continued to check out customers.  And as he rang up products, etc., the customers tried to keep a straight face while the kid was yelling into the phone, "I was just in the bathroom!  Why did you drive off and leave me??"  My guess... the parents had told the kid to hurry it up and he didn't so they drove off temporarily to teach him a lesson.. At least I hope that's the case... At any rate, you have to smile...
    Right before Christmas, I went into Mardels and Life way Book Stores, my sort of home-away-from-home stores.  (I go to both places waaaayyyyy too much as evidenced by the fact that they all know me by name in those places..)   At one of the stores, I was chatting with a college-age sales clerk and I mentioned that our son also works as a sales clerk and that sometimes he has to work with difficult people, especially as the Christmas rush was hitting full stride.  Then I added, I would imagine the customers are easier to deal with here because you cater to Christians.   A pained look came across his face that clearly said, "Touchy Subject!!"  He hesitated a minute and then said, "Ummmmmm.... Don't think I need to go there."
    I responded with, "Well, I'm sure some customers at any store can be difficult but at a Christian bookstore, you would think people would be a bit nicer."
   He said, "Ummmmmm.... Yes.... you would think that. And,  for the most part, they are."  Then he added, "Really, most customers are nice here, especially in the mornings.  But right now, by the time the afternoons get here...."  He didn't finish his sentence; he didn't have to. The implication was clear.
   Now I'd like to transition.
    Years ago I had a person from another faith who kept asking me about Christ and who even asked to go to church with us - which he did.  I didn't know where his interest came from although we were certainly glad to have him talk to us and worship with us.  Finally he said that when he first got to the States, he worked in a dough-nut shop.  And he noticed that the customers who came in on Sunday morning were different from those who came in Monday through Saturday.  He asked his employer why the Sunday morning people were different, nicer and his boss, who was not a Christian, said, "Those people are Christians on their way to church.  People who go to church are just more polite, easier to deal with.  Not as impatient.  Happier."
   First, my friend noticed a difference over time in one set of customers as opposed to the others.
   Then he set out to discover why these particular people were different.
   Then he wanted to know about Christ and  church.
   This year my goal is to remember where I am, whoever I'm dealing with, as I shop, pay taxes, sit in the doctor's office, whatever - my goal is to remember that each person I encounter is someone Christ died for.  And that each person, whether they are nice, not-so-nice, or just a little strange, is someone who may A) need a smile and B) may wonder why I'm smiling while others aren't (as in the revenue office when getting tags, etc). And that small commitment on my part, may lead someone to wonder about the God I profess to serve.
   That's my goal for 2012.
    If you think about it, pray that I'll be able to keep it!

   

Nothing is impossible...

 
 I've never been a person who was "on top" of things.  I've never looked like I was a potential candidate for a modeling agency or a possible stand-in for someone in high office.  I'm the type of person who inadvertently "wears" their lunch on their clothes (hence, no light-colored dresses, tops, or jackets), sits in church with the label sticking out of the back of their dress, and often can be seen with the proverbial foot sticking out of my mouth.
    As a result, I tend to see others as perfect (or at least more perfect than I am) and am easily intimidated.  This morning I was reading in the Jesus Calling Devotional Bible edited by Sarah Young and I came across a devotional about weaknesses (p. 1685).    The devotional is drawn from these Bible passages:  II Corinthians 12:9;  Jeremiah 9:23, 24; Psalm 34:2; and I Peter 2:9.  Of these, I am most familiar with the II Corinthians 12 passage, verses 9-10.
    And He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.  For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
   I've lived through almost six decades so it's not surprising that I've encountered plenty of opportunities to experience weakness, i.e., inadequacy,  in some although not all of the situations listed above.  Certainly, whatever I've experienced would be nothing compared to what other believers endure in countries where Christians are persecuted. 
  Nonetheless, I have failed test after test.  At one point in my life, after repeatedly failing to show love to someone who was a thorn in my flesh (if you haven't encountered anyone like that, it's because you haven't lived very long...), I was trying to pray but not making much headway due to discouragement and feelings of "poor, pitiful me" - that type of thing.  When suddenly God got my attention. 
  I won't go into the details but I will say that within a few minutes I went from feeling sorry for myself to an acute awareness of my own sinfulness.  At that point, I began to confess every sin I was aware of committing - and it was pretty good list!  Then I began to praise God for all I was worth!
  After about 30 minutes of this 180 degree turnaround in my prayers, a verse began to scroll through my mind.  That's the only way I can describe it.  It was not a verse I ever remembered memorizing and to this day, I still can't say it from memory. But at that time, as near as I could tell (and I looked it up immediately after my prayer time), the first sentence of that verse went through my mind in slow motion with total accuracy.  It was II Corinthians 12:10.  For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities.
   As I lay there alone in my room, I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that God was convicting me - I had not been willing to endure weaknesses and insults for the sake of His Son.  I "got that".  I understood that He was correcting me.
  What I couldn't quite grasp - and even today cannot fully explain - was the fact that while I was being corrected, I felt totally wrapped in acceptance.  In fact, I felt an acceptance and a love at that point like I've never felt before and haven't felt sense. 
  Later, as I thought about it, I kept telling myself, "That's not how it works...  It's like a law of the universe that when you are being chastised, you feel crummy... lacking...rejected.    So how could I feel totally, completely accepted and loved while my Heavenly Abba was pointing out sin in my life?"
  To this day, I can't quite reconcile what I knew with what I felt; I just know that it happened.
  After this experience, things changed. I didn't change. But God's power was available in my situation in a way that it hadn't been before, ala II Cor. 12:9  "..for My strength is made perfect in weakness."   I acknowledged my weakness, accepted His correction, basked in His love, and experienced His strength. Weird, I know. But I think that's how it works in God's economy.
   This morning, in the Sarah Young devotional that I read, she recommended for us weak, whiny people (as opposed to the proud, got-it-all-together people) that instead of getting bogged down in our failures, we look for God's power to shine through our weaknesses. And instead of complaining about our inadequacies (or the situations that highlight our inadequacies), that we brag about our Heavenly Abba in the same way that small children love to brag about their dads.
   It's a thought and something that I'm going to try to hang onto as I go into the new year.
   As the Bible says, for with our Abba nothing is impossible. (Loose paraphrase!)  
   

Someday....

    I just came from an 11 P.M. candlelight service at a Methodist church near our home. It's been several years since I've seen them put a sign out for the late candlelight service and I'm really grateful they did it again this year. I'm sure it's not easy to put on a service so late at night, especially since they do a 6 P.M. service as well.
    I can't explain it - there is just something so right about sitting in church on Christmas Eve as the clock nears midnight and the world (or at least our part of it:) transitions  from Christmas Eve to Christmas morn.  I love it.  The candles, the flowers, the music, the emphasis on God reaching down to man through the gift of His Son.
   I was particularly grateful that I could kneel to receive communion.  My knees don't cooperate with me as well as I would like right now:) and at first I wasn't going to participate because of that. But as I thought about it and prayed about it, I realized I could fold my sweater and kneel on that, using it as a cushion.  when I saw a woman going forward with a cane, it was a no-brainer - I was going forward!
   Kneeling is not a part of our tradition in the churches I've attended and it just seemed so important to do that tonight as the pastor broke the bread and then handed each of us a piece, along with his blessing.  After we returned to our seats, we sang Silent Night as we lit our candles from the usher's main candle and then we filed out of the sanctuary.
    I tried so hard to seal the images in my mind - the candles and flowers in each window. The cluster of tapered candles at the front of the church.  The Poinsettias mingled in with the candles.  The lighted wreath at the back of the church.  The beautiful rendition of Oh, Holy Night. Even the small candles in white bags lining the sidewalk... It was all beautiful.
   I wanted to hang onto all of it.  But I couldn't.
   However, some day I will!

The Long Awaited..

     "To give light to those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death..."  Luke 1:78-79
      
       This is the human condition, i.e., what is wrong with us, with our world.  We sit (live, walk, sleep, fight, love and whistle...) in the dark. While death's shadow falls across all our days.

       This is why Christ -the Dayspring, the Morning Star, the One who rises with healing in His wings - this is why He came.  He didn't bring light; He brought  Himself  -He is the light.  Wherever the floodlight of His presence shines, shadows disintegrate.  Wherever He walks, He brings peace and as Luke 1:79 promises, for those who follow after Him, He guides their steps into peace. Not the type of peace that the world knows; a world that is littered with broken promises, broken marriages, broken hearts, broken treaties.  Not that type of peace.  But the real thing.  A peace that, when we snuggle close to Him in faith, transcends our circumstances, our worries, our losses and our fears.

       Someone once shared their story with me,  a person who came from another country, another faith, another language.  Gradually, this person became convinced that God was speaking to him, drawing him, telling him that Jesus was His Son, that Jesus died for him, that Jesus loved him.
     But he was afraid to believe in the light; yet afraid to keep living in the shadow of death, in the dark.
     A real dilemma.
     On the way to church, a friend asked him, "What would it take for you to believe in Jesus?"
     A scary question, one with profound ramifications.
     To put off the issue, he pulled an impossible condition out of the air, so to speak.  He replied, "I would have to see God before I would believe."
     His friend swallowed hard and then said, "Well, we will pray that you see God." And then his friend did just that.
     They went on to church where the bread and the juice were passed around in remembrance of Him.  A time of holy communion in more ways than one, because  as the man sat there trying to back away from belief, he suddenly saw a bright light, brighter than the sun, at the front of the sanctuary.  The light was dazzling in its brilliance yet  it didn't hurt him; a light that  should have seared his retinas but ... didn't.
     He blinked, tried to focus his eyes, searched for a simple explanation and came up with the fact that  his eyesight must be  glitching.   So he turned to the person next to him for confirmation and reassurance.  "Can you tell me what that light is, where it is coming from?"  To his shock, the other person responded with, "What light?"
   He started to point to the front of the room but this time when he looked, there was no light...
   At that time, he had no idea that Jesus had called Himself the light of the world or that Jesus had promised to dispel all darkness for anyone who followed after HIm.   All he knew, down to the bottom of his soul, was that someone had prayed that he would see God... and he had.
   He believed and found the peace that Jesus promised.
   This is what's right with our world...
   This is what Christmas is about....
   As Tanner would put it, have you loved your Savior today?

   "Who gave himself a ransom in the place of every person, a testimony that has come in its time.." I Timothy 2:6

Christmas memories #23

    I don't know how long you have to wait before something can be considered a bona fide "memory" but I'm going to take a chance and call today's events a Christmas memory:)  After several hectic days of shopping, I had a real essence-of-Christmas day, at least in my opinion!
    It didn't start out that promising. I woke up early, heard cars slushing down the street past our window, looked out and saw a steady rain coming down.  Perfect time to go back to sleep!  But I couldn't because...I, um, procrastinated yesterday and didn't make it to the grocery store.  I thought about how the traffic would only become exponentially worse as the day went on and shoppers turned out in full force and that thought was enough to galvanize me into getting out of bed and heading to Wal Mart by 8 a.m.  It turned out well - apparently the early hour and the rain kept the hordes away and I only had one other customer in front of me as I stood in line to check out.  Three days before Christmas, that's pretty awesome!  (Plus, it was kind of neat to walk in and see the WAl Mart greeter standing at the door with fake antlers on her head as well as a fake red nose that truly did glow..I had to laugh!)

    After I got home and we put the groceries  away, I couldn't find the pecans for the Waldorf salad.  I hunted and hunted until it suddenly hit me .. the only place left was the fridge!  I'm sorry.. I couldn't resist - had to take a picture of it!

  Then  some long term friends of ours - a couple who have truly been there for us through thick and thin - dropped by to bring us homemade chicken pot pie and cake.  She's a great cook but mostly I just appreciated the time, effort and thought that went into baking all that for us.  We really love them and hope they know it!
   About noon, almost  an hour before David had to be at work, he came out dressed in casual clothes - not work clothes - with  car keys in hand.  He said that three neighborhood boys had asked him to take them to the Dollar General store to buy spray paint.  They frequently ask him to take them places and he always does, one of the things I appreciate about our son.  However, I didn't want David to be running late for work so I told him I'd do it.
   The boys range in age from 9 to 15 and they are all super polite, really good kids.  They had already walked to the store earlier today to buy the spray paint but apparently you have to be 18 to make a purchase like that.  The two younger ones wanted to spray paint their bikes (the ones Phil is frequently having to fix or air up) a blend of colors:  blue, black, red, and green!  The oldest one, who is very responsible, was going to supervise, i.e. try to keep them from accidentally painting themselves, the house, the yard, their mom's car, etc.
  So we all piled into my car and I drove them the three blocks to the Dollar Store to get their paint.   As we were pulling out of our neighborhood, we saw David driving ahead of us and the 15-year-old said, "Mom!  There goes my brother to work!"
  :)  Okay.  I am very white.  The boys are...not:)  So we go to the store and I have these three kids running around the store - all from different families so none of them look like siblings - helping me find tea candles for my candle holders, showing me which spray paint cans to get, and telling me about their day.  The nine year-old told me (very earnestly) that the new police lady who just moved onto our street has, wonder of wonders,  a dog.  And although he tried to help her get a dog food sack out of her trunk, he said he pulled on it but it just wouldn't budge.  I asked him what type of dog she had and he said he wasn't sure - it was either a   Canine or a German Shepherd.
   He also told me that he got a new tooth.  We talked about what a bummer it is that the Tooth Fairy doesn't pay out for new teeth, only old teeth that have fallen out!  At this point, the 11 year-old said that when one of his teeth fell out, he forgot to tell his mom, put it under his pillow that night, and got... nothing.  The next day he told his mom about his tooth and voila!  The Tooth Fairy came that same evening... We talked about how that was a dead tip off that the Tooth Fairy only exists in the Santa Clause movies.
   When we got to the counter to check out, I had three kids dancing  around me, calling me Mom.  The clerk wasn't sure what to make of it (and I certainly never asked her what she thought:) but I loved it!  After we left the store, we went to Sonic to celebrate Christmas - they didn't ask, I just offered.  Our orders varied:  cranberry vanilla slush for me, cherry limeade with extra cherry syrup for the 15 year-old, strawberry slush for the 11 year-old, and (my favorite:) Blue Coconut and Green Sour Apple Slush, which  had to be ordered precisely that way to satisfy the nine-year-old!  I have to admit: it was impressive!  We were all taken with the color scheme - everyone had to comment on it ... Now, I'm afraid I'll have to go order one for myself tomorrow just to satisfy my curiosity as to what it tastes like...
       After I dropped the boys off ,   I went for a walk to deliver a last minute Christmas gift to a neighbor, visit with another - something I really enjoy doing.  On the way back, the boys had their bikes out, newly painted and I must say, Picasso would be proud!!!  Walking down the street, interacting with the neighbors, exchanging gifts - all this makes me feel like I'm in a Currier and Ives Christmas card  even though I don't think their pictures were set in the 'hood... :)

   To round the day off,  this evening I went to Willow Springs Park to watch It's a Wonderful LIfe, something that's become a tradition.  As always, they had their home and the grounds of the park beautifully decorated and Lou Ann had fixed some neat Christmas treats.   It is one of the highlights of the season for me and although I missed having other family members with me this time around, I still enjoyed it.  Great movie, sweet people, beautiful lights.  And also a stillness as I was leaving - definitely different being in a semi-rural area as opposed to being in the city. I loved the quiet.
  A beautiful silent night to end a spontaneous Christmas day.
 Christmas distilled; tucked away in my mind.
 God is so good...
 

Christmas Memories # 22

 Sometimes I feel like I'm banging my head against a wall, spitting in the wind, running as fast as my arthritic knees will allow... without getting anywhere, and perhaps worst of all, about to run out of cliches and analogies.  As Christmas nears, it does this to me.
  December comes in on  a wave of  beautiful music,  delightful store displays, myriads of lighted trees, and once-in-a-year  events to be penciled in on the last page of the calendar.  It's going to be the best Christmas ever!  A promise I always make to myself .   But more  events show up, demanding to be penciled in; the to-do list keeps getting longer;  the traffic keeps getting more congested and then,when  the big day is almost here, I wind up  cooking.  Not much but quantity doesn't really matter because I basically hate cooking.
   And dishes - dirty dishes pile up and around here, there is no automatic dish washer.  We're it.  Which means much of the time, I'm it. And so, even  with the Christmas tree lights shining, presents under the tree, and Andy Williams singing, "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year", I still have been known to throw a fit or two over a sink full of dirty dishes, making dark sotto voice comments about how I'm sure I just washed all the dishes not thirty minutes earlier and wondering how it is that I'm the only one who knows how to stack said dishes on the counter top in this family instead of dumping them all in the sink??
   I don't know how my grandmother and my great aunt did it.  When I was a child, these women clumped across wooden floors (covered at regular intervals by rugs) in these heavy black shoes with thick hose; starched (i.e., uncomfortable) dresses; fussy,  over-sized aprons; and managed to produce a feast.  Pots, pans and bowls everywhere.  Mashed potatoes, turkey and dressing, ham, green beans (canned variety - not store bought), corn, cakes and pies galore.  Their tables were always heavily laden at Christmas time (and at other times as well), dishes were always cleaned quickly and set to dry on a "draining board", and I don't remember hearing any complaints or heavy sighs over these chores.  (I do remember that my Great Aunt Jewel had a China "plate" hanging on the wall - a decoration that had the words to a kitchen prayer imprinted on the white background in black letters.  Lord of pots and pans and things... And she seemed to embody the words of that prayer).
   At this point, I'd like to transition a bit, if I can.
   About 10 years ago, we were at a Christmas Eve service at our church and as part of the program, the pastor asked for volunteers to share about their favorite Christmas.  Quite a few people did and it was interesting to hear what made Christmas special for them.  As we were driving home, an international who was with us said that she would have liked to have shared about her favorite Christmas.  Only she was afraid that people wouldn't understand her English.
   I asked her what her favorite Christmas memory was and she told me. One December her family was really broke.    In her country, Christmas meant a church service on Christmas Eve plus a huge  meal on Christmas day.  But at that time, her family was down to the simplest of fare.  Tea but no sugar. Bread but no butter, etc.  So on Christmas day, she didn't even want to get out of bed because she knew there would be no feast of any kind. In fact, she said that for days she had been dreading the rather bleak Christmas meal that lay ahead.
  However, when she opened her eyes in their one-room apartment on Christmas morning, to her amazement she saw a table covered with food.  Not only the staples of a Christmas meal but even delicacies that she couldn't imagine ever seeing.  She was stunned and that wonderful bounty, that un-looked for smogasboard of plenty, made that Christmas the best that she could remember.
   As I think about my grandmother and great aunt who turned out tons of food routinely without microwaves, crock pots, Sarah Lee frozen pies, and other labor-saving devices, I'm pretty sure I can cook the few dishes I have to make as part of my contribution to family get-togethers. (As I've indicated, I don't provide the meal - I just show up with a covered dish or two.  And that, frankly, is a great blessing! I still remember the days when people gathered here and I infinitely prefer not cooking the whole meal!) At any rate, I think I can handle a salad, some deviled eggs and a dessert or two without losing my sang froid.
   And when I think of how others celebrate Christmas, sometimes saving forever and doing without in order to have a special meal on Christmas day (no presents -just food!), I think I can go further than just cooking and cleaning with a bit of grace. I think I can actually get on my knees (arthritic though they may be) and give thanks for what I have...

Christmas Memories # 21

     I'm finally done with all the shopping for this year - just have to make one trip (hopefully!) to the grocery store and then I can hibernate indoors while the mad scramble to get last minute presents continues right up until Dec. 24th at 11 PM or so as most stores extend their hours to accommodate procrastinators.. like, ummm, me...
Every year I tell myself I'm finished at least three days before Christmas only to find out that... I'm not. So we'll see how it goes this year.
   I don't know how it is with anyone else but sometimes I get all knotted up at this time of the year, wondering if I got the right thing for So-and-So and did I spend as much on this person as I did on that person, etc. And then there's the nagging little question in the back of my mind:  did I forget anyone? (Usually the answer is "yes"; hence the last minute trek on Christmas Eve).   And then there's the wrapping to do.. Really don't envy Santa and the Elves at the N. Pole..
   Somehow, I don't think Christmas is meant to be this way.  As I think back over Christmases past, these are some cameo "shots" that filter through my mind:
  As children, my friends and I deciding we would re-enact the Nativity story for our parents.  Didn't happen because we got in a fight over who would get to play the part of Mary...
  As a teen-ager, I remember that  a relative of my mom's passed away on Christmas Day. He was elderly and had been  a bit of a prima dona all his life, someone who had been successful in some ways  but unfaithful to his wife (who was pretty much a saint), that type of thing.   I remember listening to the adults discuss the man's passing (out of earshot of his wife and kids) and I heard one person say, "That's just like so-and-so to turn up his toes on Christmas day!  He allus did have to be the center of attention..." I was shocked but when I passed that along to my mom, she just looked thoughtful and said, "Well, there's  definitely some truth in that..."  :)

  As a young adult,  I remember my mom and I  spending Christmas Eve with my sister, her husband and their young son.  It was lightly snowing and my brother-in-law had gone outside to get a bicycle kit to put together.  My sister, my Mom and I were having a good time chatting when we heard a knock on the back door. My sister opened it only to hear her husband hiss, "Hurry up and get the kid into bed!  It's freezing out here and I can't bring this box in while he's awake! I've been standing out here forever!"  All three of us went  into high gear, running into Danny's room yelling, "We just saw Santa!  Hurry up and get in bed!"  Danny hopped into bed at the speed of lightening and when I went back in his room a little bit later, he looked so serious, as only a sweet little kid can. In fact, his big eyes filled up with tears   as he pleaded, "Can you wait up for Santa and tell him I'm asleep... He'll believe you!!"  I assured him that I could.
  Still as a young adult, I remember seeing my four-year-old niece, Susan,  perform in a Christmas play. She was an angel, dressed in satin, and she certainly looked the part!  What a beautiful little face!  But in the middle of the play, she suddenly turned to the boy next to her, shook her finger right in his face and we could see that little mouth moving as she apparently told him how the cow ate the cabbage.  In response, he just plopped right down on the floor and stayed as still as a mouse throughout the rest of the program.  Apparently he had been bothering her and she'd had enough!
  Still in my twenties, I remember when my niece, Laura, was born in Nov. - almost a Christmas baby. At one point, the doctor couldn't detect signs of life when Laura was in the womb and so for a few weeks, we were afraid she wasn't going to make it.  But she did. She was born into a time of great turmoil. Her mother was mentally ill and her father was trying to hold the family together as best he could. What I remember about that first Christmas is that Laura was probably the best baby I've ever seen. She continued to be sweet-natured and calm through out her first year and I felt like God gifted her that way because my poor brother-in-law couldn't have handled it had she been sick or colicky.

  When I was 32, Phil and I married in Nov.  Right after Thanksgiving I put up our first tree.  Later, when  my sister-in-law dropped in for a visit, she looked at the brightly lit tree and said, "You can definitely tell Phil is married!"  It turned out that  he'd never put up a tree.  The closest he ever came to doing Christmas decorations was when he and a friend tried to see if they could make the silhouette of a man out of lights - as a joke.  Poor Phil! Times were definitely changing for him...
  And then the Dec. that my mom died, exactly ten days after I got the call from the nurse saying mom was going, I got an early morning call - the exact same time as the week and a half before - telling me that my sister-in-law was in labor and her husband was taking her to the hospital. Both calls came at 5:30 in the morning. A piece of trivia perhaps, but it meant a lot to me (and still does) because somehow it seemed promising to have news of impending death eclipsed by the joyous news of impending birth.

   Another scene flashes across my mind.  When our Russian daughter lived here and we made cookies for the neighbors.  As we took them around the neighborhood, she linked her arm in mine and said, "Let's sing!"  So we started singing carols as we walked from house to house. Before our last stop, we went back to the house to get, not cookies, but a bowl of homemade soup because the last person on our list was diabetic.  As we approached his house, singing, he opened the door and said he had been napping and waking up to the sound of carols made him think angels were at his door!  :)
  As I think back over these memories, I really can't recall many gifts at all that I received - almost none - even though I know I was inundated with stuff when I was growing up and I've never been lacking for presents as an adult.  The things I would love to have now are not... things.  I would love to be able to go back and re-visit past Christmases - partly to check my memory, partly to see by-gone celebrations through adult eyes now.  Did my mom stress over getting the right present for everyone?  Did she worry about whether or not she spent the same amount on each person?
  But most of all, I'd like to go back to see the people that I once knew and probably took for granted.  People I can't see any more but will someday.
  When I get stressed over finding and wrapping the "perfect present", it helps me to stop and remember that in the long run, it really won't matter. At all.  What will matter is who I had the privilege of sharing Christmas with. And I hope that I have the wisdom to keep that in mind as I go through the coming days.