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Christmas is the holiday above all others. My shopping
and decorating have to be finished by the 13th of December
or they fall into an attitude of maybe next year
I
have celebrated Christmas forty years without my mom, but I
still remember her passion for this grand day. ???The
greatest holiday of all,??? she would say year after year. On
December 13, 1964, she went home to spend eternity with her
Lord. That Christmas was like study hall at high school
before finals, but without purpose. I still recall the pain
taking down a half- decorated tree. It took almost a week
to retire its ornaments into their boxes of slumber until
next season??™s awakenings. I didn??™t think I could ever
decorate another Christmas tree.
God
was good to me. He sent me a spouse that shares the same
birthday month as my mom??™s. They are so much alike. At
times, it almost causes me pain, but it does bring me a
peace I can??™t explain. He understands my December 13th
dilemma.
In
early 1995, my husband insisted I start submitting my poetry
to magazines for publication. Writing grew to be my passion
but I shared it only with him. I wrote about our sons, him,
and activities that filled our lives, never about my mom. I
did get a few poems to see print and it started a chain
reaction. I was invited to share my success (small-town
talk) with the English classes at school. One of the
students called a friend of hers that worked in a newspaper
office in a neighboring town. I never understood the
significance of her call to her friend.
One
late day in June, my phone rang. It was a reporter from the
Roswell Daily Record. She wanted to come interview me for a
story concerning my poetry. Wow! I remembered the student
telling me she contacted her friend at the newspaper
office. She came, we had a snack, and she disappeared into
the heat of that June summer day.
I
purchased a
Roswell
newspaper every day for the next two weeks. The story
wasn??™t there, so I went about my business forgetting this
interview had taken place.
One
morning my boss came into my desk. Christmas decorations
were everywhere but I was feeling blue. He said to me,
???Carol, that??™s a nice story about you in the paper this
morning.???
???What????
???The
story in the
Roswell
paper, it??™s a nice write-up.???
???I
haven??™t seen it.???
???You
need to get a copy and read it.???
I
went to lunch early. At the newsstand, I purchased six
copies. My story made the paper on December 13, 1995. I
broke the speed limit getting to Pat??™s office. I laid the
paper on his desk and pointed to the date. He grabbed me in
his arms as he shut the door to his office. We stood there
crying, hugging, crying, embracing for the remainder of my
lunch hour.
Christmas has a new meaning for me now. I enjoy my mom??™s
passion for this grand day. And if the decorating and
shopping aren??™t finished by December 13, Pat and I finish
them together. It is no longer a burden. The story in the
paper was for my mom. A very Merry Christmas to her from
the Lord she served when her feet touched the ground of His
creation. I know He made it happen.
My
pain is softer as well. I??™ve even won a poetry contest
with a poem I wrote about her. He truly is an awesome
Savior and is the reason we celebrate the greatest day of
all holidays.
Thanks
Bob.....and I hope you have a wonderful HOLIDAY SEASON!!!
Carol Dee
Meeks |
