Christmas: A Holiday Quilt of Memories

For me, the significance of Christmas is quilt of memories. At various points of my life I stitched together a different square of the meaning of Christmas. Each block lovingly sewed together with joy has created a quilt that is warm and beautiful. It has become the kind of blanket that I pull from the shelf on a cold night to snuggle under and feel protected and comforted. As I look at the individual quilted blocks, I reflect on the significant meaning of each.

The block created during my early childhood is vibrant in colors used. Santa appears with pink tinted cheeks, his chubby finger laid against his nose, and a woolly beard that is soft to the touch. During those years, I distinctly remember eagerly rousing my parents from bed at an hour no child, much less parent, should be awake. The excitement of discovering what lay inside those pretty packages under the tree was nearly uncontainable. Christmas was an enchanted time for the child that I was. The neighbors' grandiose Christmas light display made me feel like a Winter Princess as we drove down the shared driveway to our home. I delighted in the presents, the lights, and all of the prettiness of Christmas. In my eyes, Christmas was nothing short of perfection.

Shortly after I turned five years old, my father became laid off from his job as a steel-mill worker. The economy in the area we lived was hit hard, and the years through my early teens were financially hard on my family. The meaning of Christmas changed for me during these years. The resulting quilt block depicted a lean man dressed in a carpenter's apron who cradled in his hands the necessary tools of his trade. For during these years, I learned that Christmas was much more than all the presents and bows, lights and Santas. I learned that sometimes when you have everything, you are satisfied with nothing. Conversely, you can have very little, but feel like you own the world. My parents focused on hand-making gifts for us. One year, my father constructed matching desks for my sister and me. My mother would tenderly sew us Christmas pajamas. The meaning and effort behind those gifts meant more than the gifts themselves, and I learned to appreciate Christmas on a deeper level.

Into my teens and through my young adult years, the representing block is a simple white candle with a glowing yellow-gold flame. Christmas moved from being a secular celebration to a holy celebration. Christmas Eve was spent with my family at our candle light service. There was always something gently humbling about listening to the story of Christ's birth in the dimly lit sanctuary of our church. The candles illuminated the faces of my family with a warm glow. I cannot recall a more peace-filled time than these dark evenings shared with my family. Upon returning home we snack on hors deouvers and enjoy each other's company. Perhaps these are my fondest memories of all.

On the final square, two little girls are wonderfully embroidered within a heart. Their smiling faces alight with joy and their eyes twinkle with wonder. These girls are my own children. As a parent, the meaning of my Christmas is to teach them the true meaning of Christmas. What a challenge it has been to share what I have learned about Christmas - the innocent joy, the understanding that it is not just about packages under a tree of colored lights, and most importantly, of the true gift of the birth of our Savior. Christmas is about passing on traditions and beliefs to my girls.

All of these blocks bind together into the ornate quilt of the meaning of Christmas. I would not change a single aspect of the rich detail in the quilt. I am glad to pass this heirloom of memories on to my own children. The individual blocks combined together illustrate the meaning of Christmas.