Tis again the season for Joy, Peace, and egg nogg that will knock your socks off. At least that’s how my mom made it. And why not. Mimi did, with few exceptions, everything else for Christmas.
My early memories of my favorite time of the year include, thumbing through the three-inch-thick Sears Catalog, and circling the hundred or so toys and sporting supplies I would need to survive the next year. Then there were the trips to the mall with mom. Once we finished the supply and uninteresting present acquisitions, it was time for Santa’s lap and the toy section. I do remember times when she would mysteriously disappear for short periods of time, and return with additional packages. Of course, I had no idea what she was doing, since I knew that Santa would do all of the heavy lifting.
Then there would be the decorations. There would be days of new displays throughout the house. Of course, dad and I did the hard part. Every year we went out and picked out the tree, strapped it to the roof of the car, brought it home, and attached it to the stand. Somehow dad always wound up having to trim the tree to make it fit the room or the stand.
Once the hard part was done, mom would get to work with tinsel, lights, and ornaments. Then the baking would begin. Mom worked for days on baking the most delectable cookies, pastries, and cakes.
At some point mom locked herself in the dinning room to wrap presents. She told me that Santa just needed a little help. I was certain he would be there to arrange them under the tree. After all mom had set everything up for him. What else did he have to do?
Of course, then there was the food. Mom was an excellent cook, spending hours in the kitchen each Christmas day. We never went hungry. The gifts so carefully wrapped and arranged under the tree took only minutes to unwrap.
Then there was one final tradition. I believe it was 2009 when my mom and I took our last Christmas eve walk the half mile or so, to St Linus Catholic Church for services. It was always cold and snowy. We would walk briskly but, slow to enjoy some of the decorated homes along the way. Somehow the real reason for the season (Jesus’s birth) seemed buried in other more commercial trappings.
But was it really? After years of playing a meager role in assisting my own Mama Claus (Crystal), I can finally see the truth. As Christians, we are to be Jesus’s representatives to a fallen world. We are to serve our fellow man, and give our strength, our time, and our lives in that service. Often, and I’m only going to speak of myself, we fail miserably. But, at Christmas, who better exemplifies that effort than our own Mama Clauses.
So, in summary, while I wish you all a Very Merry Christmas, and Joyful Holiday season, I have two additional wishes. First, don’t forget the reason for the season. Second, give a little extra appreciation to the real hero of the season, Mama Claus.
