3 minute read
Fond Memories of Christmas
Nancy and I have four wonderful daughters. They are all adults now. Two of them have children of their own. One of my favourite Christmas memories is about something we used to do when our children were young. We wanted Christmas to be about Jesus. Nancy and I decided a good way to do that would be to act out the Christmas Story. We did this each Christmas Eve.
The girls would decide who they wanted to be Mary, Joseph, a shepherd, a wiseman. I built a wooden manger, and we placed a doll in it to represent baby Jesus. Some Christmases we were with Nancy’s family. Sometimes we were with my family. Some Christmases we were home by ourselves. But regardless of where we were, we included everyone present in our small, family Christmas pageant. One year we were home with my family. My two brothers and I were the 3 Magi that year —we wore bath robes and entered the living room singing, “We three Kings of Orient are, bearing gifts we traverse afar…” If I recall correctly, we carried different Tupperware containers to represent the gold, frankincense and myrrh which we presented to Jesus. Usually, one of our girls would play the part of Mary, the mother of Jesus. They would hide the doll under their robe. At the right time, they would produce baby Jesus and declare that He had been born. One year I was the donkey on which Mary rode into Bethlehem. I forget which of my daughters was Mary that year. Whoever it was, she rode on my back into the living room as Joseph went to the Inn to try and find lodging.
God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16 NIV
One year we were home alone with our children. There were no extra family members with us that year. Just Nancy and I and our girls. I don’t remember whose idea it was. But that year we draped a large sheet over our kitchen table, so that it extended down to the floor on all sides. We all pressed inside, under the table, and that became the stable where Jesus was born. I don’t remember why, but that year we all ate a meal under the table, sitting on the linoleum, in our makeshift stable. One of our girls was Joesph. Another was Mary. The rest of us were the animals —a cow, a sheep, and a donkey. Baby Jesus lay in the manger beside us.
Many of these memories are reinforced by the photos we took. When I look back through the photo albums, I smile. These pictures bring joy to my heart. Through this simple family tradition, our daughters internalized the Christmas story. They will never forget this immortal truth —“God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16 NIV)
My friend, I encourage you to build your own family memories around Christmas. Keep Jesus at the centre. May God richly bless you and your family, as you celebrate the greatest GIFT ever given!
