My earliest Christmas memory is when I was about 5 years old. My brother and I shared a bedroom with single beds on opposite walls. Our stockings were "hung" on top of our chest of drawers as well as Santa's cookies and milk. I was so excited I could barely sleep so when I heard the jingle bells from the stockings, I so wanted to peek but I kept my eyes tightly shut. I don't remember if I jumped up to look after the "movement" silenced but I don't think so. I knew I had to wait for the morning.
A couple of years later, I woke up one night and found my mom in the kitchen, sewing doll pajamas. It did not dawn on me until I got those pj's for my Suzy Walker on Christmas morning, that Santa was really my mom and dad. "Big Sigh" I told my brother and he answered me by punching me. How dare I say that there was no Santa!!
We were always very fortunate as children on Christmas because we received presents from many relatives and we always got what we wanted. Dolls, bikes, toys.
My dad was a Tool & Die Engineer and handsomely paid.
What I did not get was the REAL reason for Christmas. Jesus Christ♥ That was a true loss for us.
One Christmas when I was a teen, there were many family problems so it seemed no merriment, no tree. My best friend, Bobby and I went out and purchased a tree on Christmas Eve for $3. This was in 1961. I was 15. We set it up, put some ornaments on it. The next morning, the tree was standing there and all of the needles had fallen off and were on the floor. We got a dead tree!! Appropriate for that year, I guess.
Christmas got a whole lot better when my girls were young. Jenifer and Jodi would run into the living room, jumping up and down and clapping with glee.
At that point, I was religiously confused but knew that God was there for me.
It thrills me to hear when someone shares that their young children know all about Jesus' love. My grandsons know this also.
I am grateful to know the "reason for the season" is our Lord. At this time in my life it comforts me.