In the moonlight of a cold Minnesota winter the perfectly formed snow flakes glistened as they softly fell to the ground. We had made a long Christmas journey from South Dakota to the farm of Uncle Cecil and Aunt Marge. The unwrapping of the miracle of a cherished Christmas began as we turned from the graveled snow-packed county road to the quiet pathway leading “home”. Dozing travelers with nodding heads leaning on the shoulders of the person next to them were awakened by our driver who announced, “We’re here!” Each of us sat up straight as we carefully followed the headlights through the darkness of night. As we stepped out of the warm car the snow melted instantly on our warm cheeks. I distinctly remember looking up and seeing the gift of perfection of each flake falling upon my eyes. They seemed to grow larger as they fell from Heaven to kiss my face. The heart-warming beauty caused me to blink as I watched for a moment in time. My eyes looked down as the yard light snapped on and ignited the brisk windless night. There was Uncle Cecil welcoming us in a way that only families who are unconditionally loved can know. We made our way through the yard gate. My father in-law, Cecil’s brother Ralph, my mother in-law, Irma, my young bride Janice holding my hand, and her cousin Lila with babe in arms entered the warmth of the farmhouse. We were all greeted by a huge hug from Aunt Marge. It was the first time I had met them. Seeing two brothers embrace was priceless. No words spoken, just holding each other surrounded by hearts filled with love and life’s experiences shared through the years. Aunt Marge broke the silence of that tearful moment as she exclaimed, “Merry Christmas”! We had reached our Christmas journey and we were “Home”.
The next morning the kitchen was filled with the smells of breakfast cooking. We all gathered around one large table where Cecil led us in prayer thanking God for safe travel, His blessings, and the bountiful food that graced the table. The fellowship of family is a treasure beyond compare. Their young son, Paul, filled with Christmas anticipation and excitement said, “We have been waiting for you to come before we cut down our Christmas tree!” How excited we all were that we would be included in this Christmas memory— never to be forgotten but remembered to this day.
Cecil and Ralph bundled up to do chores together as they had done for years as small boys growing up in North Dakota. At last the men hooked up the hay wagon to the tractor and returned to the house. Each us layered up and put on our winter coats, scarfs, hats and mittens preparing to gather the tree. Everyone went. Christmas carols were led by Marge as Cecil drove the tractor. No choir could sing the carols of Christmas more joyfully. Our lifted voices rang out in song as our warm breath changed to a glorious mist with every exhale. Through the snow to the trees north on the acreage the sputter of the tractor stopped and we all saw the tree that was to become our cherished Christmas tree. We jumped off the wagon and gathered round as the men cut the tree and placed it on the wagon. While making our way back to the farmhouse there was an elevation of joy in our united voices. We sang with only the rhythmic beat of the tractor blended in praise. The penetrating fragrance of a fresh cut tree is breathtaking.
Today, five decades later, that cherished Christmas on a small Minnesota farm still warms my heart. The cherished lives lived so long ago who introduced me to the true meaning of a “family Christmas” are no longer here but remain in my Christmas thoughts every year. The carols we sang so long ago while riding on the hay wagon were like music boxes tinkling a joyous Christmas song of peace and good tidings of great joy.
Through 48 years of marriage and serving Christ together as minister and wife we often talked about that cherished Christmas shared so long ago. Through the years Janice began collecting music boxes. Some were gifts received, others were purchased. The sound of a music box became important to both of us through the years. Through joyous times and through the darkest moments we are lifted by the simple notes ringing out from music boxes in our home. God blessed our lives together with two children and two grandchildren. Each brought their own song— songs with many cherished Christmas melodies for generations yet to be. The true gifts of Christmas are opened with faithfulness. In the darkness of this world we are awakened as we find our way “Home”. In the fullness of time there is the cherished Christmas in each of our lives.
My Janice passed away just before Christmas four years ago. This year I determined to honor her by making a special Christmas tree to display her large collection of music boxes. Careful planning and engineering resulted in displaying 64 of her Christmas music boxes. Each is a reminder of a cherished Christmas. Janice has now reached her Christmas journey and is now “Home”. Today, I continue my Christmas journey inspired by those who traveled before me.
As you look “up” this Christmas may the warmth of your cheeks melt the purity of the winter snow. May your eyes see the true gift of Jesus falling upon you this Christmas. “Though you sins be like scarlet they shall be whiter than snow”. Make this Christmas a cherished Christmas. May your life be a music box of Christmas memories.
TREASURES FOR THE HEART 