I love Christmas. I guess this stems from my childhood memories of Christmas Eve.
In the mountains, Santa brings the gifts on Christmas Eve. Like most children, I was scared of Santa Claus, but I was so eager to get the present, I went just close enough to grab it. In addition to the present, each child got a small brown bag filled with candy, nuts, and fruit. We just couldn't wait for the bag. We hid them if different places, With seven children, it was easy to sneak a piece of the good candy from someone else when yours was gone. We got one present, but it was a good one, one we had wanted all year, usually chosen from the Sears catalog. Christmas was sacred. We waited all year to begin working on the Christmas play at school. God, Jesus, and even Christmas was spoken all day long. When all of the lights went out and the curtains were pulled to reveal the nativity scene, we were in awe. "Silent Night", "Away in a Manger", and many Christmas songs were sang by the children and audience in the one room schoolhouse. I wish my children could have experienced this. I tell them and my grandchildren all of the wondeful stories of growing up in the mountains. We were rich.
