It is Christmas Eve morning, and we certainly have a white Christmas. In fact, it is so cold that my cable TV froze, the internet cable froze throughout the area, and my ADT doorbell froze, too. The weatherman said it will be -25 degrees today, with winds up to 30 to 50 miles per hour. I’ve been reading two books about the Battle of the Bulge, Christmas, 1944 and the Battle of Chosin Reservoir, Korea in 1951. I now know how those soldiers felt fighting in harsh winter conditions because my fingers so bad snow blowing the driveway yesterday that it took a good hour to thaw my hands out. Their conditions were so much worse than mine, but sometimes, it takes the type of cold we have here to realize how lucky I am to live here in Wisconsin.
As I will be playing the pipe organ and conducting the choir at church this afternoon at 3:30, I’m trying to do only what I have to do this morning. Sitting here at the kitchen table with my cup of Constant Comment tea, my memories of Christmases past are circling my heart, not letting in the cold from our Canadian blizzard. My daddy officiated at the afternoon Christmas Eve service in 1955 in Upperco, Maryland. His parish consisted of two country churches, one in the lower valley and one high up in the mountains. The weather was much like today, but civilians were still using car tires that were made during WWII and Korea. Daddy knew we wouldn’t make it up the mountain on those tread-less tires, so he asked for anyone in the congregation who could take us up the mountain to the late service in a sleigh. The calls went out, and sure enough, a horse-drawn sleigh arrived at the parsonage. We were off for our first sleigh ride in snow deep enough to cover the front door of our parsonage.
When we got to the white clap-board church up on the mountain with its picnic table seats and pot-belly stove, our family hurriedly ran to the stove for warmth. I loved that little church almost more than the one in the valley because the fifty or so members never missed a Sunday or special service, cared for that special place like it was home, and always had hugs for our family. At the end of the service, our sleigh driver told my dad we weren’t going to get down the mountain because the snow was too deep for the horse. Once again, my dad asked the members for help. Mr. and Mrs. Merryman, a local farmer who lived close to the church, offered us rooms at their farm house.
Much to my brother and I’s delight, Santa had come to the Merryman’s home and left two teddy bears for us with two pairs of long john pajamas. You know the kind, those with feet in them and a big trap door to go to the bathroom with. David and I knelt beside the bed to pray as Mommy and Daddy leaned against the doorway listening. I still remember sixty-seven years later what they prayed. “Thank you, Lord, for our beautiful children, for people who really loved us, and for all the blessings You have given us this special Christmas Eve.” As I pretended to sleep, I saw Mommy and Daddy kissing in the shadow of the hallway. That picture brings tears to my eyes; no child was ever as blessed as I was having so loving parents.
Christmas morning, we did get back down the mountain on our second sleigh ride, with our teddy bears snug under the blankets and our new pajamas wrapped around them. The love I saw in my parents’ eyes that morning has stayed in the special memory box of my heart. We had to dig out the front door to the parsonage and rushed to start a fire in the fireplace. We stayed in the living room for several days as our pipes were frozen and the 1930 furnace didn’t work very well in the extreme cold. Santa came later that day, and we made all our meals in the fireplace. During those special days we realized how blessed we were to have each other and loving friends we could count on. The Christmas tree was the most beautiful tree in my life time, because when the electricity came back on, those white lights shone God’s love into our cold world. The topper angel rotated singing, “Glory to God in the highest and on earth, peace, good will to all men!” And you guessed it; our new teddy bears never left our sides the entire time. May you be the lights the world needs to prosper and to love one another.
Anna Hartt
