holidays

Wanted: One Ghost of Christmas Past

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / Leave a comment

ghost of christmas past

This may seem like an unusual request. I’m not Ebenezer Scrooge and I’m not a penny-pinching miser who’s doomed unless he changes his cold-hearted ways.

But I’d like one Ghost of Christmas Past, please. Not the very distant past, but my past.

I’ve been thinking about loved ones who won’t be here this Christmas and missing them very much. I’ve been thinking about others who are getting older and realizing they aren’t as immortal as I used to think they were when I was little.

ghost of christmas past 2

I’d like to go back to Christmases past, not to change anything or even to talk to anyone, but to sit back and listen. To hear the voices long since silenced and see the faces that are harder and harder to remember.

I’d love to see both my grandfathers again and see them both healthy and happy and enjoying the holiday season. I’d love to see my uncles at peace with the world and, more importantly, at peace with themselves.

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I’d love to see all my family together under one roof and everybody at their best selves, when they were happiest and most content and knew who they were and who everybody else was.

Maybe this isn’t possible. Maybe some I won’t ever see again, save for heaven someday or in my dreams.

Maybe my lesson for this Christmas is to treasure those who are in my life right now and not to take anyone for granted, whether they be family or friends.

Maybe it’s to learn the lesson that Scrooge learned all those Christmases ago: “And it was always said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well if any man alive possessed the knowledge.”

Yeah, that sounds good. I honor the memory of those who’ve gone on before me by honoring the living and most of all, by honoring the true spirit of Christmas and the infant found in the manger who grew up to be Savior of the world.

So maybe I’ll skip that ghost. But I’d still like a good cup of wassail.

 

 

Do You Believe?

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polar express

“At one time most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years passed it fell silent for all of them. Even Sarah found one Christmas that she could no longer hear its sweet sound. Though I’ve grown old the bell still rings for me, as it does for all who truly believe” (from The Polar Express).

It would be very easy to turn Christmas into a season for shopping. It would be so very easy to get caught up in Black Friday deals and Cyber Monday sales and racking up debt on credit cards to buy more stuff for people who don’t really need it.

Don’t get me wrong. I like me some presents. I like giving them AND I like receiving them. But if that’s all it’s about, then there will always be a colossal letdown on December 26.

Christmas is more than presents and food and tacky Christmas sweaters. Christmas is even more than family gathered together in one place for one night, reliving memories and celebrating together.

Christmas is about the impossible becoming possible. Christmas is about the miracle of God becoming flesh, being born into our world as a helpless infant boy. I love the imagery I heard when someone said that Jesus came to us as the lowliest of the lowly so that he could lift us up from beneath.

That’s what Christmas is all about (in the immortal words of Linus). Christmas is believing that Jesus came for you and me. That when we couldn’t find a way to God, he found a way to us.

I love the sermon at the end of The Bishop’s Wife, a classic Christmas movie:

“Tonight I want to tell you the story of an empty stocking.

Once upon a midnight clear, there was a child’s cry, a blazing star hung over a stable, and wise men came with birthday gifts. We haven’t forgotten that night down the centuries. We celebrate it with stars on Christmas trees, with the sound of bells, and with gifts.

But especially with gifts. You give me a book, I give you a tie. Aunt Martha has always wanted an orange squeezer and Uncle Henry can do with a new pipe. For we forget nobody, adult or child. All the stockings are filled, all that is, except one. And we have even forgotten to hang it up. The stocking for the child born in a manger. Its his birthday we’re celebrating. Don’t let us ever forget that.

Let us ask ourselves what He would wish for most. And then, let each put in his share, loving kindness, warm hearts, and a stretched out hand of tolerance. All the shining gifts that make peace on earth.”

Random Christmas Memories

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I don’t know what prompted it today, but I spend some time reminiscing about when I visited Santa as a child. For me, that was always my favorite part of the Christmas season.

We went to Goldsmith’s (think of Macy’s and you get the idea). I distinctly remember a spiral entrance ramp to the parking garage, almost like it was yesterday. Maybe because I was so keyed up with excitement that I took in every detail.

We had to go through a tunnel of festive holiday figures, including elves and other merry creatures– okay, so I’m a little fuzzy on the details of this part. I remember it was like stepping into a dream. The good kind of dreams that you always wish you could go back to every time you fall asleep.

And then at the end there was Santa. Okay, not really. Just some guy in a costume affecting a jolly demeanor. But for me it was real enough. Once I got over my terrifying fear of him (and I’m not so sure what frightened me so much about him), I was able to get my Christmas list to the big guy himself. Talk about going straight to the top.

I think that one of the best thing a parent can do is to create these kinds of memories for their children. Children need happy, safe memories to carry with them through the nightmares and dark nights. Memories like this one.

I’ve seen the photos of me sitting in Santa’s lap as a very young tyke, face beet red and screaming my head off. Why anybody thought that would make a great holiday photo, I have no idea. But it still exists in a photobook somewhere in all its kodachrome glory.

Maybe one day I’ll scan it and post it on my facebook page. On second thought. . . . nah.

 

Old Christmas Movies

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 2 Comments

 

One of the reasons I love this time of year (and there are many) is that I get to pull out my epic collection of Christmas movies and watch all my favorites again. Especially the old ones (meaning those made before I was born).

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a fan of the more recent holiday flicks, too. I love Home Alone, Scrooged, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, and even the 90’s remake of Miracle on 34th Street.

But my heart truly belongs to the classics.

It’s not Christmas without seeing old films like The Bells of St. Mary’s or The Bishop’s Wife. I can’t really get into the festive mood of the season until I’ve seen White Christmas and It’s a Wonderful Life. Not forgetting lesser-known (but equally classic) movies like Christmas in Connecticut, A Holiday Affair, Holiday Inn, Remember the Night, and A Christmas Carol (any of the older ones are good, but I recommend the 1951 Alistair Sims version).

Maybe I like all these old movies because Christmas makes me nostalgic. I start missing my childhood and the people that I loved that are now gone. I miss the unadulterated excitement that Christmas brought that made me unable to sleep on Christmas Eve.

I know that the proper etiquette is to wait until Thanksgiving to start watching Christmas movies, but I say to that, “Balderdash!” I’m not waiting. Besides, that’s probably not even a real rule, just something I made up.

What old Christmas movies do you watch every year? And by old, I mean pre-1970. I discovered a couple of gems last year for the first time in Come to the Stable and It Happened on 5th Avenue, and I’m always looking for a good holiday classic.

So send me your recommendations. Email me at GMendel72@united.net or find me on facebook or send up smoke signals. Whatever works for you. Just let me know, ’cause enquiring minds want to know.

 

Wanted: One Tacky Christmas Sweater

/ Ragamuffingospelfan / 1 Comment

This is a bit of a departure for me. Normally, I write about deep spiritual matters or frivolous feline facts. I write about good books that I have read or good movies that I’ve seen. But not now.

I come to you, my good readers, with a request. I am in need of one tacky Christmas sweater, pronto. I cannot emphasize enough the tacky part. It needs to be TACKY.

LOUD colors would be a plus. Also, any kind of bells or lights or anything that makes festive noises or is just obnoxiously cheerful. It must be a size Large and I prefer if it’s a men’s sweater.

If you need help visualizing what I’m looking for, check out the picture I’ve inserted at the top of this blog. When I wear this bad boy, I want to be seen from a mile away and I want there to be no mistake about what kind of tacky sweater I’m wearing. Although I’m fairly certain there are no tacky sweaters for the other major holidays.

There is no redeeming spiritual or intellectual value to this blog. It’s kinda like verbal cotton candy. Every now and then, you need cotton candy to make you feel better, even though it has no actual food ingredients that I’m aware of.

Donations are also welcome. I take American Express, Visa, Mastercard, cash, checks, or any other kind of legal tender (except for Confederate or Canadian money).

That is all. Carry on about your normal Saturday business as usual.

And this blog will self-destruct in 5 seconds (just kidding).

PS The world won’t cease to exist if I don’t get my tacky Christmas sweater, but if you have one or know of one, let me know. Contact me at GMendel72@united.net for further instructions.

PPS Thanks in advance.

 

Falling Leaves

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I love autumn. I especially love the keen bite of the crisp October air and the leaves changing colors and the smell of bonfires. I am a fall kind of guy.

I think it’s gotten into the mid-40’s in Nashville and that means a few traditions for me:

1) It’s time for me to start watching my scary movies in anticipation of Halloween, such as the Halloween movies and Rosemary’s Baby. I throw in the Halloween Charlie Brown special, not because it’s scary, but because it’s tradition and required by law to watch every October (or it should be).

2) It’s getting close to time for pumpkin carving and that yearly debate about what costume I will wear on October 31 (and yes, I still do wear costumes, though they tend to be last minute, Goodwill-bought variety).

3) Hopefully, it means hay rides and corn mazes and bonfires and roasted marsh mellows (I like mine blackened just a bit on the outside).

4) It means that Thanksgiving and the mad rush to Christmas will be just around the proverbial corner and that all the festive holiday decor will start showing up in your local Walgreens and other retail outlets in the next couple of weeks, if they aren’t already pulling out the ornaments and tinsel as I write this.

5) I don’t know why, but fall tends to bring back all my happy childhood memories. Maybe it’s the smell of fall that triggers these memories. I’m not sure.

6) I almost forgot. Fall means the return of the seasonal Starbucks drinks, including caramel apple spice, pumpkin spice and– my favorite– chegnogg, which for the uninitiated is chai egg nog late. I very highly recommend it.

I thought about posting a pretty picture of falling leaves or something very autumn-y, but I am feeling lazy and sleepy at the moment, so just use your imagination. It’s more fun that way.