There was the time in about 1950 when my Dad lost his job in northern Minnesota. The decision was made to stay with my maternal grandmother in St. Paul, where Dad would likely have a better chance for employment. Money was tight, but Dad found a way to make Christmas special.
We walked a couple of blocks to Snelling Avenue where we caught a streetcar. You young ones don't even know what a streetcar is, do you. It is like a passenger car on a train only smaller. It ran on tracks built into the city streets.
As a young girl, my family always had a real tree for Christmas. Except for the one year when Dad came home with what was the newest modern tree. It was made of silver foil. Looked like several rolls of tin foil had exploded. Mother decorated it with pink glass ornaments. We were hip.
That tree gave a whole new meaning to the word 'ugly.' I believe it went on the garage sale in the spring.
When my own children were young, I had a real tree, cut down from the woods surrounding our home. There were few real ornaments, but we made up for that with tinsel.
It is good to remember those times. But it isn't about trees or decorations or presents. It is about the birth of our Lord and about time spent with those we love. I will be with my children and grands on Saturday evening. Christmas Day Duane and I will share a ham dinner while the others celebrate with their own families or in-laws. I am glad that my children have so many in their extended families with whom to share the joy of the season.
I am taking a bit of a vacation from blogging until after the New Year. I wish for all of you, my friends, that you are blessed not only now but throughout the year.