Christmas has come and gone in a blur of family and gifts and giddy children. Last year was the first year that it was magical for Landon and this year he was even more into it than last year. It makes the holiday all that more special to see children loving it and grasping not only the magical secular aspect, but the true religious reasons. But I have found myself, over the past few years, longing for the Christmas of my childhood. Not because I believed in the magic, but because of the magic of my grandparents house. Christmases at their house were extra special. I know all the of the grandkids felt that way.
We spent every Christmas at their house in Johnstown. We would brave the snowy mountains and we almost always had a white Christmas. Johnstown is never without snow in the winter. My grandparent's house was small, just two bedrooms, but it was warm and cozy and inviting. I don't think they changed a thing from the time it was built until the day we moved them out several years ago. Christmas Eve was the big deal. We went to my grandparent's church for their candlelight service. I miss that service almost more than I miss anything else. We all dressed to the nines for church. You were sure to pack your best dress to wear that night and their little house was always a flurry of us all beautifying before church started. We'd put on our ill thought out heels and ice skate to the car. We always had to park a ways from the church because the lot was full and there was almost always a sheet of ice awaiting us. But we could always count on our PopPop to give us his arm and guide us safely. He was so tall and always was wearing his fur hat perched oddly on top of his bald head. I always loved their services. Of course during most of the service you would find we grandkids doodling on our bulletins with the pre-burned candlewicks. But when it came time for the candlelight part of the services we were ready. The lights went out and then someone lit one candle at the end of each pew and you lit the person's candle next to you and so forth, all while singing a Christmas hymn, until all the church was lit with soft candlelight. I will never forget the way it felt to sing hymns in the candlelight. It's such a spiritual experience that even as a child I could feel the difference. Just a few weeks ago we were with our youth group singing "Angels We Have Heard On High" and I caught myself tearing up. I had a moment where I flashed back to singing in that chapel and the feeling that it brought me. Even as a teenager you would find me with tears in my eyes while we sang those hymns in the glow of that chapel.
After church was over we would rush home and into our pj's to enjoy our Christmas Eve feast. Ham and shrimp and other goodies. And after that we got to open our family stockings that were hung along the banister. It was always exciting to sit around as a family and tear into out stockings. After staying up too late we would all find a place to sleep. Usually the grandkids all got the privilege of sleeping in our great-grandma's (Grammy) room. She had two twin beds in her room. Someone always got lucky enough to snag the spare bed and the rest of us slept on the floor. My Grammy was somehow able to sneak in around us to her bed and able to sleep through us opening our stockings in the morning. She was an amazing woman, but that is another post all together. We were to stay in our room in the morning until the adults told us it was okay to leave them. So one by one we would wake up to find that Santa had come and filled our stockings on our bed. So we would tear them open as quietly as we could so as not to wake each other. And we were always amazed that Santa found us. He filled out stockings and brought all our presents to put under the tree. How our parents snuck them into the car without us knowing I'll never know!
You always left my grandparent's house full of the most amazing food you'd ever eaten, and feeling loved and special. I can only hope that in our own way we are making Christmas traditions for our children that they will cherish as much as I cherish my childhood memories.
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