Preserving precious moments, a special Christmas angel and the miracle of new life
Where have you found the true spirit of Christmas -- or has it found you? We asked Homemakers readers to share their stories and the letters we received illustrate the sheer beauty of the season: simple but profound, everyday but utterly extraordinary.
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Capturing precious moments
It was the smell of onions frying in butter that awakened me from my sleep to the fact that Christmas had begun. It told me that my parents were already up and hard at work preparing our once-a-year feast of roast goose. I would open the door to the kitchen and there they would be, each with a task, oblivious to my arrival. How wonderful it was to see them side by side -- they often worked opposite hours and moments together in the kitchen were few.
Every year I took the same pictures of Mom and Dad stuffing the goose and emptying the drippings. Every year they got a little bit smaller, a little bit grayer, a little bit more wrinkled. Last year was my first Christmas with them both gone. I chose to work the night shift so I could avoid the whole issue of Christmas and to give a coworker with family a chance to enjoy the holiday at home. But, my sweetie's sister wanted to have dinner together on the 23rd so plans were made for the evening.
Their aunt was with them in the kitchen, putting the last touches to the meal, when I suddenly remembered my camera. I grabbed it and went into the kitchen to take pictures. It may seem like an odd thing to some of you reading this, but taking pictures to save and savour those traditional moments is my tradition.
-- Cheryl M. Taylor
Mom's spirit
In August of 1963, one week before my ninth birthday, my mother died of breast cancer. Celebrations of any kind after that, including birthdays, stopped when my mom passed away. Something that has always stayed with me is that a special angel visited us just before Christmas. The doorbell rang and a lady with packages was at the door. She said she was from the hospital and had gifts for both my sister and me (who was five years older). We assumed the gifts were from Princess Margaret Hospital. My sister got a shoe bag, which was very in style then, and I got a train set. (They mistakenly thought I was a boy.) I was so happy and loved the train set! But more importantly I felt that my mother was looking down on us and telling us that she was still with us and that we hadn't been forgotten. That, to me, was the true spirit of Christmas!
-- Dina Simon
The miracle of motherhood
I gave birth to my fourth child on December 20 and her liver was not functioning well. She was jaundiced and they wanted me to leave her in the nursery until her liver worked better. I had three young children at home who wanted to see her, and I dreaded showing up empty-armed for Christmas. I asked the doctor if I could please take her home. He looked me in the face, pursed his lips then said, "OK, but bring her back tomorrow afternoon."
Christmas morning was the usual uproar. I sat in my new Brentwood rocker holding my newest child and rocked as the children played with their toys and wandered over to touch the baby. As I gazed into my child's face I thought of the mother of the man whose birthday we were celebrating. I felt the love she must have felt when she gazed at her son's tiny face. I understood a little more the great love he had for all of us that motivated him to do what he did with his life. I experienced the Nativity in a very personal way.
-- Kay Przybille
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