It was our first Christmas in our first real house. The children were 7, 4 and 3—quite a handful, and so full of the Christmas spirit.
The oldest had learned in school about giving gifts from the heart. She wisely brought home the message that gifts need not be the biggest or the most expensive, to show love. She wanted to give her mom and dad a Christmas gift from the heart. She convinced her little sister and brother to put on a Christmas pageant for us, as our gift.
As the oldest, she played the key role of the Virgin Mary, dressed in one of my frilly white nightgowns. Her sister, complete with aluminum foil halo, was an angel holding a wooden spoon no doubt representing something angelic. Their toddler brother was a shepherd dressed in brown towel tied at the waist with a jump rope. A doll wrapped in white towels represented the baby Jesus in swaddling clothes.
They were so little; and yet they understood the true significance of the day and played it out so lovingly for their dad and me.
All grown up now, they have taught the true meaning of Christmas to their children as well. We all still sing “Happy Birthday Jesus” on Christmas Day, celebrating Him as the reason for the season.
What a joy are memories of significant Christmases past that still bring smiles to our lips and tears to our eyes.
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