On Santa's Team

My grandma taught me everything about Christmas. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," jeered my sister. "Even dummies know that!"

My grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me.

"No Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second cinnamon bun.

"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days.

"Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobbie Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobbie Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out for recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough; but all we kids knew that Bobbie Decker didn't have a cough, and he didn't have a coat.

I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobbie Decker a coat. I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that. I didn't see a price tag, but ten dollars ought to buy anything. I put the coat and my ten-dollar bill on the counter and pushed them toward the lady behind it.

She looked at the coat, the money, and me. "Is this a Christmas present for someone?" she asked kindly. "Yes," I replied shyly. "It's ... for Bobbie. He's in my class, and he doesn't have a coat." The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons, and write, "To Bobbie, From Santa Claus" on it ... Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy.

Then she drove me over to Bobbie Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobbie's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk.

Suddenly, Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell twice and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobbie. He looked down, looked around, picked up his present, took it inside and closed the door.

Forty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my grandma in Bobbie Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: Ridiculous!

Santa was alive and well ... AND WE WERE ON HIS TEAM!

Give generously to him and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to.

Deuteronomy 15:10

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On Santa's Team



My grandma taught me everything about Christmas. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," jeered my sister. "Even dummies know that!"

My grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me.

"No Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second cinnamon bun.

"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days.

"Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobbie Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobbie Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out for recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough; but all we kids knew that Bobbie Decker didn't have a cough, and he didn't have a coat.

I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobbie Decker a coat. I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that. I didn't see a price tag, but ten dollars ought to buy anything. I put the coat and my ten-dollar bill on the counter and pushed them toward the lady behind it.

She looked at the coat, the money, and me. "Is this a Christmas present for someone?" she asked kindly. "Yes," I replied shyly. "It's ... for Bobbie. He's in my class, and he doesn't have a coat." The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons, and write, "To Bobbie, From Santa Claus" on it ... Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy.

Then she drove me over to Bobbie Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobbie's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk.

Suddenly, Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell twice and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobbie. He looked down, looked around, picked up his present, took it inside and closed the door.

Forty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my grandma, in Bobbie Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: Ridiculous!

Santa was alive and well ... AND WE WERE ON HIS TEAM!

Give generously to him and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to.

Deuteronomy 15:10

The Legend of the Christmas Stocking



A Christmas stocking refers to an empty sock or sock-shaped bag that children hang on Christmas Eve in the belief that it is to be filled with presents by Santa Claus. The gifts are generally of a small nature, consisting generally of small toys, goodies like candies and fruits, coins or other such items that are often referred to as stocking stuffers or stocking fillers. The bigger gifts are wrapped in pretty papers and placed near the Christmas tree.

The tradition of Christmas stockings is said to have originated from the actions of a kind noble man named Nicholas, who was born in 280 AD, in Patara, a city of Lycia, in Asia Minor. While still young, his wealthy parents died in an epidemic. A true follower of Jesus Christ's principles, Nicholas became a Christian priest and used all his riches to help the poor, the needy, the sick, and the suffering. He dedicated his life in the service of God and was made Bishop of Myra at a young age. Bishop Nicholas became known throughout the land for his kindness and generosity.  Nicholas never married and had no children of his own. But he loved children greatly and often gave gifts to the kids of his hometown. This is why he became known as the gift giver of Myra. A rich man, he traveled across the country helping people, giving gifts of money and other presents. However, Nicholas always gave his gifts late at night so that his identity would remain a secret. He did not like to be seen when he gave away presents, so the children of the day were told to go to sleep quickly or he would not come! Nicholas was eventually named the patron saint of children and sailors (because of his concern for sailors and ships) and came to be known as Saint Nicholas.

Through the centuries many stories and legends have been told of Saint Nicholas' life and deeds. One popular account tells us of a poor peasant who lived happily in a small cottage in Patara, Saint Nicholas' hometown, with his wife and three daughters, but their happiness was short-lived when the wife suddenly died of an illness one day, leaving the poor man and his three daughters in despair. All the burden of household chores now fell upon the daughters while their father trudged on with his life with a heavy heart.

When the daughters reached a marriageable age, the poor father became even more depressed for he knew he could in no way marry them off to good men. In those days a young woman's father had to offer prospective husbands something of value - a dowry. Without a dowry, this poor man's daughters were unlikely to marry. The helpless father looked around desperately for some solution while his daughters did their own cooking, sewing and cleaning.

Meanwhile, Saint Nicholas had come to know of the poor peasant and his daughters. Knowing the financial condition of the father, the kindly saint decided to help him. But he wanted to do this secretly. So he went to the peasant's house one night with a bag of gold and waited for the family to go to bed before he could throw the bag through the open cottage window.

That night, after finishing their washing for the day, the daughters hung their stockings by the fireplace to dry. Little did they know that their benefactor was hiding nearby, waiting for them to go to sleep. A little later, as they turned off the lamps and fell asleep, St. Nicholas tiptoed to the cottage window and peeked inside. In the light of the moon, he saw the daughters' stockings hanging close to his reach. He carefully put in his bag of gold in one of the stockings and went away as stealthily as he came.

When the father found the bag the next morning and opened it, he was ecstatic. There was enough gold in the stocking to pay for the dowry of one daughter. It seemed like a godsend to him. Who could have sent it, he wondered. With this timely gift the father was able to provide for his eldest daughter and saw that she got married to a nice groom.

On another night Saint Nicholas set off with one more bag of gold, and threw it carefully into another stocking, so that the second daughter was provided for.

When his daughters excitedly brought the bag to their father the following morning and opened it, he could not believe his eyes. With this gift the father was able to marry off his second daughter too.

But by this time, the father had grown eager to discover his mysterious benefactor, and the next night he kept on the lookout.  For the third time Saint Nicholas came with a bag of gold upon his back and walked  to the window. The old lord at once recognized his fellow townsman. He fell on his knees before the kindly Bishop, cried out in joy and gratitude and thanked him with all his heart. With the      blessings of Saint Nicholas, the poor father was able to see his three daughters get married. He lived a long and happy life thereafter.

And this is how the tradition of Christmas stockings is said to have started in European countries. It is also believed that Santa Claus is actually an alteration of this same Saint Nicholas, Santa standing for Saint and Claus for Nicholas.

They ran to the village and found their way to Mary and Joseph. 

And there was the baby, lying in the manger. 

Luke 2: 16 

 

To Set the Mood--A Little Holiday Trivia



As we begin the preparations- the decorations, the shopping, the planning, the baking, the parties, and hopefully, the church activities-here's a little holiday trivia to help get you set the proper tone for the Christmas season.


1. Listen to the song "Twelve Days of Christmas" and count the number of gifts in the song. You will realize that gifts were exchanged 364 times. Thus the gifts are exchanged everyday of the year, except one.

2.  The American Puritans wanted to make the festival of Thanksgiving Day the prime festival instead of Christmas.

3.  The first state to recognize Christmas as an official holiday was Alabama in 1836.

4.  Noel is the word which is used in place of Christmas in France. The word was derived from the French phrase "les bonnes nouvelles" which means "the good news" and it refers to the gospel.

5.  The poinsettia is a traditional Christmas flower. In Mexico (its original birthplace), the poinsettia is known as the "Flower of the Holy Night."

6.  Louis Prang, a Bavarian-born lithographer who came to the USA from Germany in the 19th century, popularized the sending of printed Christmas cards. He invented a way of reproducing color oil paintings, the "chromolithograph technique," and created a card with the message "Merry Christmas" as a way of showing it off.

7.  If you are thinking about a Christmas shopping trip, then here's something to remember. Statistics reveal that you are going to be elbowed three times, if not more, while shopping.

8.  According to an old wives’ tale if you bake bread on Christmas Eve then it will be fresh forever. It’s yet to be known how many people actually believe in this story and how many of them have ever tried it.

9.  Santa Claus, or Father Christmas, has two addresses, Edinburg and the North Pole. If someone writes a letter and wants to send it to "Toyland" or "Snow land", then that particular letter goes to Edinburg. But, if someone sends the letter to "The North Pole,"  then it has to go to the North Pole because there is a place called North Pole.

10.  At Christmas, it is traditional to exchange kisses beneath the mistletoe. In ancient Scandinavia, mistletoe was associated with peace and friendship. That may account for the custom of "kissing beneath the mistletoe."

My hope is that your Christmas season will be full of rich blessings and time to appreciate each other!  Happy Holidays!