Traditions

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving

“Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother’s house we go....” It took all of the verses of the song, sung several times through, to get us to Grandma and Grandpa’s house on Thanksgiving Day. Since my family often sang during car trips when I was young, I measured distance by the number of songs it took, not the number of miles. You are My Sunshine, The Bull Frog Song, Froggy Went A Courtin’ were regulars, as was 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall for longer trips. During the holidays, we included our seasonal favorites. “Hurrah for the fun; is the pudding done, Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!” Since timing was everything, we tried to finish the song as we pulled up to the gate. As we stepped onto the front porch, the sounds of laughter and wafts of roasting turkey and cornbread stuffing greeted us. Opening the…

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Christmas has my Name on it!

“But he that entereth in by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. To him the porter openeth; and the sheep hear his voice: and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out.” –John 10:2-3   For years I had hung five Christmas stockings along the fireplace mantel. On the large red stocking, that was for my parents, I had carefully knitted “WAYNE” on one side of the cuff, and “AGNES” on the other. Next to it were hanging two small red felt stockings; one said “KAREN” (me) and the other, “JOHN”, my husband. The two large red felt stockings with white cuffs were for our sons. One was marked “BRENT” and the other, “ERIK”. Then came the Christmas that Brent would bring home his new fiancé. She was from Japan and this would be her first Christmas. We were thrilled, but how could we make…

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Christmas Pasts and Presents

Once again, as with every Christmas, I believe that there is a great yearning that wells up from deep inside our souls to respond to the “great joy” of the angels’ announcement to the shepherds, to follow the beckoning Star to find the Holy place where Christmas miracles never cease, where every Christmas promise is fulfilled. However, even though we long for the comfort and joy of this sacred realm, we often look for it in stories about talking snowmen, magical reindeer, and Santa’s elves—all of the trappings but none of the essence and truth of the birth of Jesus. For years I have loved and collected Christmas books during Advent, but I have become increasingly concerned about the content and number of books that claim, “This is a story/book about the true meaning of Christmas”, but lead you farther from the truth with every page. So, this year, I…

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Hope Chests

They were called “hope chests”—those large cedar storage chests where we hopeful young girls stored what we would need for our future households. In years past, preparing for our future included embroidering dishtowels and tablecloth sets, crocheting pillowcase edging and doilies, and knitting afghans. Filling our hope chests was an expected and honorable pastime. We often started as early as 6 or 7 years old, coached in simple embroidery and crocheting techniques by patient mothers, grandmothers, and aunts. The time spent sharing the wisdom, experience, and knowledge of the older generations, provided the most valuable lessons of all. Needlework skills were incidental to the love, encouragement, and confidence that were woven into the fabric of our lives during those sessions. We prepared for our future days of the week by embroidering dishtowels with designs depicting a predictable work schedule, like a day planner on cotton. For example, Monday was wash…

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