Of Platinum Cards and Barn Doors

 




Christmas is upon us again.  It seems like the events of the last couple of years has everyone more inclined to celebrate (and celebrate bigger) this year than most.  Our neighborhood isn't known for 'The Great Christmas Light Fights', or for having a bunch of Clark W Griswolds.  But this year there are a lot of Christmas lights up.  Heck, I even have some up this year.  Granted I paid someone to do it this year, but they're up and we're good to go.  It's not that I'm incapable of climbing an ladder and doing it myself, I just don't want to , plain and simple.  I'm not going to go terrorize Whoville or anything like that, but let's just say that the older I get the more I'm into simplicity. When it comes to Christmas I'd like to think I'm a purist.

I remember a long time ago, back on the farm, we had Christmases which really did focus on the basics. Dad wasn't a member of the fire department so he could get rich, and his off duty farming gig wasn't going to make him wealthy either.  While we had everything we needed and we were comfortable, there were times when things were pretty lean.  One year it was lean enough that we made everything.  When I say everything I mean, we went out and chopped down our own Christmas tree.  This year it wasn't to be the beautiful aluminum tree with the three color rotating wheel that mesmerized you while you stared at the tree changing colors in a trance like state while listening to Bing sing about a White Christmas from the console tv/stereo/record player.  No, we all went out into the cold Kansas winter wind and walked most of the 160 acre property looking for the perfect tree.  It wasn't a beaut that resembled the majestic tree that starry eyed Clark gazed at in the field on their family tree cutting adventure.  You know, the one that wouldn't fit inside of Jerry World let alone the Griswold family living room.  Instead it was closer to the other end of the scale.  The one toward the end of the Charlie Brown tree. Granted it was nice, but it was definitely kind of rough, but the nicest one we could find.  A little full, a lot of sap, but nice!  (Squirrel not included).

We also made the ornaments.  Mom always had craft stuff around from scouting and her own crafty projects.  So out came the construction paper, Elmer's glue, glitter, scissors, and the like. What could go wrong with three boys and all of that stuff??  The brothers and I must have been getting along fairly well that Christmas because I don't recall any huge glitter and glue explosions.  I'm sure Mom made some kind of goodies for us to munch on, and most likely hot chocolate or the like to wash them down with as we crafted the most amazing homemade ornaments the could be seen on the west side of the Mississippi River.  After carefully bending paper clips and fashioning them into ornament hooks, they were strategically placed on the tree.  You know…strategically, as in they would go on the same branch in front of one of your brother's clearly inferior ornaments.  Maybe that's when Mt Glittergluevious likely erupted. 

We also made presents that year.  And mom had saved the Wichita Eagle and Beacon newspaper from Sundays, being careful to ensure the comic section wasn't destroyed, and with that we wrapped our homemade gifts.  The interesting thing is, I don't remember in detail a lot of Christmases.  I know we had several Christmases in which the bank account wasn't so lean and the presents were significantly more  elaborate.  But this one, this simple uncomplicated one, I remember pretty vividly  It was gratifying because it seemed more in line with the spirit of the holiday.  The focus seemed to be more on the giving than it was on the receiving.   It wasn't measuring love by the amount of money spent or the size or quality of the gift given or received  It all seemed to be birthed more from the heart.  I'm indebted forever to Mom and Dad for such a special Christmas.

The first Noel, the first Christmas, wasn't all flashing colored lights, red and green glitter, massive quantities of presents with elaborate wrapping paper and bows, friends and family gathered round for a big feast and trading gifts while drinking eggnog.  It wasn't about huge numbers of people swiping their Platinum cards at the mall (and maxing them out) fighting stupid drivers who waited like you until Mary's water broke to go shopping.  It wasn't about dancing around challenging family relationships.  

It was one poor couple who couldn't find a spot at the Motel 6 even though she looked 13 months pregnant.  It was barn equipped with a feed trough which would serve as the first bed for the child.  It was a young girl's water breaking on a dirt floor covered with straw. He would be born there possibly surrounded by livestock and the smell of 'fertilizer' rather than disinfectant, a doctor, nurses, and doting grandparents.  It was a nervous young father who perhaps had the speech of the angel echoing in his head as he looked on as he tried to do the best for his young new family. Strangers would gather around to celebrate, some bringing some pretty interesting gifts.  Even though it was the simplest of simple, rustic and conservative, it would be the most memorable Christmas ever celebrated in history.  Because this was no ordinary child.  This was Immanuel.  God with us.  Promised since the beginning of time, this is how He chose to make His grand entrance. In simplicity.  In near anonymity.  With a certain amount of loneliness, reflection, and introspection.  The promised salvation and deliverance by Divinity Himself lay there as a helpless newborn needing constant care, diaper changes, love and protection.  That was/is the savior of all mankind.  

Sometimes the simplest things are truly the most profound.  

May your celebration, however you choose to celebrate it, focus on that simple time in the middle east, upon that simple event.  And may it be one of the most significant and memorable days of your life as you experience "God with us".  FG


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