This week during school, one of my eighth graders, Aerica, brought in a story I had written almost nine years ago, just after our son Justin had been married. It was his first Christmas not being at home. Aerica's parents found this story in their archives and just knew I would want to see it again. I did. It brought back a rush of bittersweet memories, that I went through nine years ago. Sweet Aerica presented this story to me in front of all my students and yes, tears came as she handed me this almost forgotten account.
I share it with you now as we pause on the doorstep of yet another Christmas. I can tell you that nine years later, I still miss my children not being in my home. It is right and proper that they go out to establish their own homes and begin to build their own family memories with their spouse; but in every loving parent's heart, Christmas at home is just never the same without those precious children in it.
If you have your children still with you....hang on to this moment. Hold it close to your heart. Enjoy thoroughly, every minute you have with those precious little people. Talk to them. Read to them. Share your life with them. Have fun with them and make many sweet memories together, for all too soon....life changes and you must change with it.
I am blessed that my children come home to us every Christmas, but they no longer belong completely to us. We share them with another heart, who loves them too and we cherish forever the memories that God blessed us with, when He gave us children. Cherish the moments that this wonderful season offers you. I'm glad that I did that when I could!
The Ornaments
written Dec. 1999
I took the day off to put up the family Christmas tree, on this bright, beautiful, December morning. For some reason, the anticipation of this yearly event was accompanied by much melancholy this year...all of which I kept closeted in the secret places of my heart. As to the reasons of my melancholy, I wasn't quite sure. It could have been the fact that I no longer had three excited little ones eager to help with lights, ribbons and the annual hanging of their "favorite" tree ornaments. Perhaps it was the fact that we now had a son who was "married off", (what a sound of finality in the description of this passage of time). It could have been the all too real feelings of my own aging process that was bearing down on me on this quiet Monday morning, but whatever the reasons, I found myself in melancholy as I began to hang the lights and reminisce. The process for decorating a tree in our house, was always the same.
The job was not to be done without our favorite Christmas music playing loudly (so it could be heard in every room of the house!), and the smell of hot apple cider simmering on the stove. Since I found myself alone with no children around to help, I opted out of the simmering cider and decided to enjoy the music as my decorating companion.
My sweet husband had already done the hard stuff for me; the drudging out of boxes and boxes of Christmas paraphernalia and the setting up of "the tree". Oh yes... "the tree". That is another Shaffer keepsake. Our poor Christmas tree is 25 years old now and I refuse to part with it! I have nothing against "old" things and married a man who is the king of frugality! We purchased this tree one week after our first son, Sean, was born. It too, has become a precious part of the Christmas season to me.
Trying to muster up that old "holiday spirit", I started opening the carefully packed boxes that held everything under the sun. As I opened the box holding all the homemade decorations, I gingerly picked up two right off the top. I froze in my spot and held those two little ornaments as though they were fragile, priceless crystal. As I examined the workmanship that my young son had put into his "sled" made of popsicle sticks, I could almost see his eager little face concentrating on getting it "just right" so Mom would like it. I smiled, for that was so like him. I turned the second little ornament over in my hand and saw the blonde-headed, dimple cheeked, smiling face of my four year old Justin. I have always loved that little picture of him and lovingly display it every year on our Christmas tree, along side Sean and Cherith's ornaments.
As I stood there in the living room looking at these two remnants of a childhood gone by, I started to cry. A phone call from Justin just the night before, sprang into my melancholy mind. He had asked if he could have his "special ornaments" for their family tree now. At the time of the phone call I thought, "how nice that he would want those little homemade, worn out ornaments". Most young men would probably think it stupid or of little importance to have some homemade trinket from their childhood. But not my Justin! He's the same boy who sat down in our living room a few weeks before his wedding and pulled out all his favorite gospel albums that we played in our home throughout his growing up years. He listened to many, many albums, as if storing up the memory to last a life time.
While holding these two priceless mementoes in my hand, my good husband of 26 years, walks into the room. Realizing that something must be wrong with me, he steps to my side. Glancing down to my hands, he begins to assess the situation. I noticed the familiar twitch of his mouth that always comes when he is about to cry. Now, we are both crying. "Justin asked if he could have these last night:", I related to my husband. "I thought it was neat last night, that he asked about having them, but now as I look at them I don't know if I can do it." How could I put our family Christmas tree together without Justin's smiling face hanging from the branches or his homemade crafts dangling in view? "I'm glad they are special to him", I cried, "but they are special to me too". For the next five minutes we just stood there crying and holding those precious little treasures. In the background, I heard the strains of the blessed old song.....
"Grace, grace, God's grace
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within,
Grace, grace, God's grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin."
I knew in that moment that I would give those childhood treasures to Justin and Cassandra. God would help me to "let go" once again, as He always had before. His grace has always been sufficient---in every area! The work of grace that God did in Justin's heart is something I will never cease to praise the Lord for!
This will probably not be the last of such moments as parents, but God's grace will always be there for us then as well. I think I'll put on that cider now!
The job was not to be done without our favorite Christmas music playing loudly (so it could be heard in every room of the house!), and the smell of hot apple cider simmering on the stove. Since I found myself alone with no children around to help, I opted out of the simmering cider and decided to enjoy the music as my decorating companion.
My sweet husband had already done the hard stuff for me; the drudging out of boxes and boxes of Christmas paraphernalia and the setting up of "the tree". Oh yes... "the tree". That is another Shaffer keepsake. Our poor Christmas tree is 25 years old now and I refuse to part with it! I have nothing against "old" things and married a man who is the king of frugality! We purchased this tree one week after our first son, Sean, was born. It too, has become a precious part of the Christmas season to me.
Trying to muster up that old "holiday spirit", I started opening the carefully packed boxes that held everything under the sun. As I opened the box holding all the homemade decorations, I gingerly picked up two right off the top. I froze in my spot and held those two little ornaments as though they were fragile, priceless crystal. As I examined the workmanship that my young son had put into his "sled" made of popsicle sticks, I could almost see his eager little face concentrating on getting it "just right" so Mom would like it. I smiled, for that was so like him. I turned the second little ornament over in my hand and saw the blonde-headed, dimple cheeked, smiling face of my four year old Justin. I have always loved that little picture of him and lovingly display it every year on our Christmas tree, along side Sean and Cherith's ornaments.
As I stood there in the living room looking at these two remnants of a childhood gone by, I started to cry. A phone call from Justin just the night before, sprang into my melancholy mind. He had asked if he could have his "special ornaments" for their family tree now. At the time of the phone call I thought, "how nice that he would want those little homemade, worn out ornaments". Most young men would probably think it stupid or of little importance to have some homemade trinket from their childhood. But not my Justin! He's the same boy who sat down in our living room a few weeks before his wedding and pulled out all his favorite gospel albums that we played in our home throughout his growing up years. He listened to many, many albums, as if storing up the memory to last a life time.
While holding these two priceless mementoes in my hand, my good husband of 26 years, walks into the room. Realizing that something must be wrong with me, he steps to my side. Glancing down to my hands, he begins to assess the situation. I noticed the familiar twitch of his mouth that always comes when he is about to cry. Now, we are both crying. "Justin asked if he could have these last night:", I related to my husband. "I thought it was neat last night, that he asked about having them, but now as I look at them I don't know if I can do it." How could I put our family Christmas tree together without Justin's smiling face hanging from the branches or his homemade crafts dangling in view? "I'm glad they are special to him", I cried, "but they are special to me too". For the next five minutes we just stood there crying and holding those precious little treasures. In the background, I heard the strains of the blessed old song.....
"Grace, grace, God's grace
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within,
Grace, grace, God's grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin."
I knew in that moment that I would give those childhood treasures to Justin and Cassandra. God would help me to "let go" once again, as He always had before. His grace has always been sufficient---in every area! The work of grace that God did in Justin's heart is something I will never cease to praise the Lord for!
This will probably not be the last of such moments as parents, but God's grace will always be there for us then as well. I think I'll put on that cider now!
2 comments:
We are thankful it was a blessing for you. For you are such a blessing to us.
Thank you and we pray for you and your family.
LYLAM
This is priceless. It really touched my heart the part that makes me cry.
I am thankful for the sweet memories God allows us to keep.
As your family grows, I look forward to reading about the new memories you all will make and hold dear.
You have a precious family and I love you. Dianne
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