Dear Readers,
My goodness how time flies. It's been over 2 months since we sat down and chatted. I am of the notion that if I can't be an encourager then I retreat into my quiet place and regroup. I've had a lot on my plate, heart, and mind; and, although I know God is ultimately in control, I've struggled...
I am very fortunate to have my little cottage to retreat to ... it's like a big prayer closet!! I've been playing Christmas music and am enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of the Christmas Season. I laugh because there are times when I am sweeping that I dance with the broom pretending I an am a child again. I look about me and hold the things near and dear and memories come flooding back.
The first Christmas I can remember was when I was a very small child. My family was invited to the home of my father's Aunt Bessie. She had a nutcracker from Norway that caught my eye and I headed for a place on the stair landing to examine it's gnarly beauty. (Actually, I was hiding because I didn't want anyone to take it away from me!) This was also the year, my Grandma Maggie took me upstairs to the room where my father was born ~ Aunt Bessie as midwife. To me, the room was so beautiful ... the fireplace was burning, the bed graced by a white quilt, and soft carpet beneath my feet. That night, Bessie's home was filled with colorful lights, laughter, and the aroma of Norwegian dishes being prepared in the kitchen. How's that for a first Christmas memory?
Another Christmas, we traveled to my Aunt Laura's home. Aunt Eleanor had just had a baby, Michael, and we took turns going upstairs to see him. I even got to sit on the bed and hold him. The living room was decorated with a big fresh pine tree and, yes, there were gifts under the tree for all of us. We had our own new born babe that year and that was the most precious gift. Other years we feasted on chili, oyster stew, and crackers ... Uncle Harold got piles of cartons of cigarettes, the basement was filled with such loudness of talk and cheer that I could barely hear myself think ~ and, oh yes, Uncle Cloyde made sure the Christmas tree got bigger and bigger each Christmas so that we would ooh and ahh over it's beauty!
Although most of my childhood Christmas Eve's were spent at my Aunt Laura's, one Christmas I distinctly remember was at my farm grandmother's home. It was blizzarding outside and temperatures had dropped far below zero. The open farm yard was filled with cars that were covered with snow and my uncles had to get out the plow. The farmhouse wasn't very big so we scattered all around finding places to eat (my meal consisted of olives and more olives!) and open our gifts. My grandmother Belle got some high topped black tennis shoes (she raised chickens - tons of them!). I knew she got them every year out of need but I thought the beautiful light blue sweater we got her was better. Maybe not...she wore the black tennis shoes but I don't ever think I saw her wear the sweater. I learned a lesson from that ... sometimes it's important to fill a need not what I think someone should have.
My town grandmother, Maggie, always had such beautiful Christmas's. Aunt Alida played the piano and we all sang Christmas Carols. They spent the entire year making gifts for all of us ... hats, mittens, scarves, slippers, crocheted tablecloths, quilts... Grandma Maggie even made a little quilt for my dog, Tina (also known as Beans). She would greet guests at the door laying their coats on her bed. Many brought her big bags of food, and, of course, the annual bottle of Mogan David Wine. Her house was sooo small we were all literally on top of one another. No matter ... love was never more evident than at a Christmas at Bestemor's and Alida's. There too, the night was filled with laughter, song, Norwegian food, AND a toast to the next year. Everyone got a glass of wine and kids got wine in shot glasses. I also had my first taste of Coca Cola one Christmas. Grandma had a couple bottles and my cousins and I shared sips ... ohhhh, we thought it was so strong ~ it made us cough, then we would giggle...
Growing up, Christmas centered around family but also around church. Our school Christmas programs were all about singing Christmas Carols and skits. The church was filled with beautiful bows of holly, poinsettias, and a Christmas tree so filled with lights that they lit up the stained glass windows in the dark. I cannot remember ever missing a candle-lit midnight Christmas service where we held lighted candles and sang carols. I wonder if they still sing carols in Norwegian at Glenwood Lutheran?
I am so glad on Christmas Eve!
His praises then I sing;
He opens then for every child
The palace of the King.
Or, as we sang in Norwegian,
Jeg er sa glad hver julekveld
da synger vi hans pris;
da apner han for alle sma
sitt sote paradis.
Growing up in a little city by the lake was such a blessing and growing up with gifts from the heart rather than the pocketbook shaped me more than I realized at the time. I've had Christmas's filled with grandeur and gifts galore and I've had Christmas's alone without family and friends when I thought my heart was going to break. Yet, all in all, I continue to grow with each Christmas year after year...
"Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am in to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me." ~Philippians 4:11-13
God has always been with me ... wooing and loving me, speaking to me, guiding me and forgiving me. I began looking for him in the church when I was younger than 6. The door was never locked and I wandered about calling out, "God, you here?" It was there I began my journey.
"You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." ~Jeremiah 29:13
It is the Season of Christmas and I am so very grateful for being able to share my life with you, my Readers, over the past years. Stories always have a beginning and mine was extra special. Although life got a little tough, I always had solid ground to stand on when the storms raged about me.
This is Christmas 2015. We live in a world of turmoil and fear. Last week 14 people were killed in San Bernadino, CA by 2 terrorists. The world I knew as a child no longer exists. America is divided by political leanings to the left and right. As a logic, fact-finding citizen, I often wonder how much longer the delusions of what is really going on will prevail. Then... I pray. I pray for my country, for our leaders, and for each citizen to open their eyes ~ for truth to be revealed and for light to cover our nation.
As for me, I have much to be grateful for. I have invested myself in the lives of others and am in a place where I can say, "My purse may be empty; yet, I am a very rich woman."
As the days move quickly to the celebration of Christ's birth in Bethlehem, I am as joyous as I was as a young child. Consider yourself hugged and bathed in prayer. The emails, texts, phone calls, and personal greetings I receive from you are as precious snowflakes falling from Heaven!
Miss Dottie
PS "Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time." ~Laura Ingalls Wilder
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