Christmas Through the Eyes of a Child!

As a child I have fond memories growing up in a small town in upstate New York. Every year, our tradition was to go out and trek through the snow to bring home a real Christmas tree. We would wait until about two weeks before Christmas, and then the tree would last through New Years. We would usually get up early in the morning and go as a family. There was never a short supply of fresh blue spruce trees in upstate New York. The Blue spruce seemed to be our favorite kind of tree. It made a beautiful Christmas tree. I can still recall the smell of that blue spruce pine mingled with a wood burning fire on a cold and snowy night.

Sometimes the temperatures were below freezing. We would bundle up and put on layers of clothing. We would all pile into the car and off to the Christmas tree farm we would go. I can see it now! We would sing to Christmas carols while making our trip to look for our tree. We would get out of the car and start our journey up the mountain, looking for the perfect Christmas tree. My brother would carry the saw for cutting down the tree. My Father would look carefully at each tree. He would size it up, and then look to my Mom for approval. My Mom would always watch him as he eyed the trees. She would shake her head yes or no. You see Dad always wanted the biggest tree he could find. Mom, would always wonder how it's was going to fit in the door. Her concern was would it touch the top of the ceiling. Dad always had the answer to that, if it's was too big then we will cut the top off. My sisters and I would lag behind a bit from everybody else. Every once in awhile we would do a head count and make sure that no one was missing. Sometimes I would just stop and smell the clean air and watch the snowflakes as they fell. I could feel the sun reflecting off of the snow and it brought warmth to my face. Christmas was definitely in the air and the excitement would build as we searched for our perfect Christmas tree.

My Dad would walk over to the tree, when we finally found the perfect one. He would stand next to it and carefully inspect it. Then he would take a hold of the tree and shake all the snow off of it. He would then say, "What do you think"? He would walk around it and give it a final inspection. He always said that it had to be full and not have any gaping holes. We would all shake our heads in agreement and then he would look at my brother and say "ok, cut her down".

My brother would take the saw and bend down and dig out the snow that was around the tree. My father would hold the tree while my brother sawed. I'm sure that my Dad could have sawed, but my brother seemed to have something to prove to us all. It was like, look at me, I can saw down a tree.

It was always a process. There seemed to be lot of sawing and waiting. Then the tree would finally give up its life and fall face down in the snow. We would all clap our hands with excitement. My Dad and brother would both grab hold of it, one on each end. They would head down the hill with our tree in hand. My sisters and I would watch from behind as my Dad and brother would carry the tree ahead of us. We would reach the bottom of the hill, pay for the tree and then the fun began. We had to get the tree on top of the car and tie it down. The girls knew better then to stick around; we would jump in the car and let the men handle the task. When it was finally tied and secured to the top of the car, my Dad and brother would shake the snow from their coats. They would then clap their gloves together to remove the snow from their gloves and any loose pine needles.

The ride home was short; we would arrive home in about a half hour. The tree had to make its final entrance into our home, where it would be decorated and taken care of. The girls would search out the Christmas tree ornaments. We had boxes and boxes of ornaments, lights and tinsel. My brother and Dad would be busy getting the tree stand and the tree set up in our living room. My Mom's Christmas village was meticulously placed on top of the fire place mantel every year. Dad, put it together every year and it was a beautiful site to see. Each, year my Father would buy another piece for my Mom's Christmas village. It would take my Father hours to assemble, but when it was done it looked like a real village. Dad had a place for each the houses, lights and all its accessories.

As we would enter the room with boxes in hand we could smell the blue spruce tree. It was like the smell of Christmas in the air. The Christmas carols would be playing on the stereo and we would all be excited about getting the tree up. There was always that moment of anticipation when everything was finally in place and the tree was ready to be decorated. The boxes of ornaments were then opened and then it was time to get to work on decorating the tree. I'll never forget one year, my sisters and I got silly and we started blowing the tinsel on the tree. I would hold out a piece of tinsel and blow on it and watch it fly on the tree. Well, that was short lived, because it really made a mess and one that we had to fix later on.

When all was said and done the tree stood tall with its twinkling lights. There were no bare branches but instead beautiful ornaments hanging from each branch. My Dad and brother would be outside putting up the lights on the house. Mom placed all the white candle lights in the windows of the house. Dad always decorated our pine trees outside around our house. He started a tradition one year of having one tree with all blue lights. There was something significant about that blue Christmas tree all lit up. You could see it from miles away as you came down our street.

Before we knew it Christmas Eve was here. The guests had all arrived and we were all heading off to Christmas church service. We would all dress up in our Christmas best. The house was filled with the aroma of delicious food and the smell of fresh baked cookies lingered in the air. Christmas Eve was special; it was the night before our dear Savior's birth. The church service was always over crowded. It seemed like everybody and their brother would come out. We would sing every Christmas carol we knew. There was no such thing as political correctness. Everyone wished you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and it never offended anyone. You always believed that the New Year would be better and that all things would work out according to God's plan and purpose.

As a child you never think about your childhood memories until your all grownup and you start to reminisce. I made many trips home during my college years to spend them with my Mom and Dad. My Father went home to be with Jesus in March of 1998. I'll never forget the first Christmas without him. My mother had set up her Christmas village that my father had bought for her. She told us that as she opened the boxes and found all the pieces marked. She said, "He must have known that he wouldn't be here with us, so he marked all the pieces so we would know exactly where they would go".

I'll never forget the site that I saw the first year home after my Father's death. My husband and I were riding in the car with my Mom, just being picked up from the airport. As we pulled into the driveway, there it was the blue lighted tree. My mother had taken the time to put the blue lights on the one tree, just like Dad had always done. She said "Daddy always like the one tree to be decorated with blue lights". So my Mom decided she wasn't going to let that tradition die. You have to understand my Mom gets out my Dad's John Deer tractor and snow blows the driveway! She is not going to let a little snow stop her from putting lights on a tree! She amazes me sometimes!

I have beautiful memories of Christmas past. I'll never forget waking on Christmas morning. My parents would have to go down stairs first. My Dad would get out his movie camera and turn on the Christmas tree lights. My Mom would make the coffee and her wonderful homemade sticky buns. We could smell cinnamon and honey heavily in the air and fresh brewed coffee being percolated. Dad would always say loudly, as we stood at the top of the stairs. "You kids should see what Santa brought you, ". He would stand there with the movie camera in hand, while that big spot light was shining on our yawning little faces. Then he would say "Ok, you can come down now". We would start to run down our hard wood stairs and Dad would always say "be careful, you don't fall." We would reach the bottom of the stairs and we would go as fast as our little legs would carry us. We would then be only about two steps from our living room. We would fly around the corner to see my Mom. She would be sitting on the couch with her coffee so she could see our faces as we peered around the corner. See saw how our eyes grew wide at the site of that beautiful Christmas tree and all the beautifully wrapped gifts. She would say "Merry Christmas" before all the mayhem began. Dad, would stop the movie camera just long enough to make comments then go right back to filming us.

Yes, those were times that I will never forget. Do you know that our tradition is still carried on today? My nieces and nephews have all had to wait at the top of stairs so that Mom's and Dad's and Aunts and Uncles can capture those precious moments through the eyes of a child. So, when you hear people say that they are too busy for Christmas, perhaps they really don't know what Christmas is all about. As we grown up and go out into the real world we tend to forget what Christmas is really all about. We need to remember that not only are we celebrating our family and traditions but we are giving glory to our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the savior that was sent into the world so that we could have eternal life.

Why not share the gift of eternal life this year with all those around you. Why not give a person the best gift of all. Why not share with them your testimony of Jesus Christ and what he has done for you. The best gift you can give someone is eternal life in Jesus Christ. The bible say in Matthew 16:26 - 26 For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul? What is a soul worth in Jesus eye's? Priceless . . .! Won't you give the greatest gift of all this season, the gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ!