Home for Christmas
Carol Nelson
Christmas is a time when you get homesick -- even when you're home.
Whether it is in the heart or a place, there is no place like being home for Christmas.
This time of year brings back many memories of Christmas at home, as a child.
One of my favorite memories. was when we were living on a farm. The year must have been early 1960.
My parents, brother and I , lived with my Uncle Mike and Aunt Mary on one farm . We had immigrated from Austria to Canada in 1959.
My aunt and uncle had immigrated years earlier.
My mother wanted a picture of the Christmas tree but our camera had no flash.
My mother in her infinite wisdom had decided to take the entire fully decorated tree outside to take the photo.
No matter what came to my mother as a challenge , she overcame it with a simple solution.
My father without question brought the tree out and erected it in the middle of the snow .
It was magical. That little tree that had just been an ordinary ( but then is any Christmas tree every ordinary) Christmas tree standing in our living room, was now the most powerful memory of my childhood.
The photo was taken and it is in my mother's box of memories where I can re-visit that time whenever I need to.
My memories of being in my mother's home for Christmas are in my heart. I can close my eyes and see her trees that she has decorated over the years.
The tinsel glittering, the lights twinkling , the chocolates waiting to be snatched by little hands, and the beautiful ornaments that she has carefully packed away each year.
Christmas at home was the gift , I needed nothing else.
Over the years where we all spent Christmas has changed.
As my children grew up , they brought their children to my home for Christmas.
My home and tree ,were always decorated in the hopes that it would be magical to my children and grandchildren. It was my hope that their time in their mother's home for Christmas gave them a memory to re-visit when they needed to, as my mother's home and tree , had done for me.
The memories we create are the link we give our children to their beginnings, and our past.
Over the years it happens that we as families may grow apart , not from lack of love, but for lack of understanding or misunderstandings.
Christmas is a time of bringing people together . A time of memories shared. A time of putting aside what kept you apart.
The feeling of Christmas is always attainable. We are never far from one another, and when we look at all the challenges , there is always a simple solution.
If the flash is not working , take the tree outside.
There is always a glimmer of light no matter how dark times seem to be.
The magic of Christmas is in the memories you have made and shared. They are the link to your heart for all those you love, and a place where Christmas is all year round.
Merry Christmas from my home to yours.
Pull up a chair and sit a while and rest .
From my home to yours,
Irene Motz
Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth; that can transport the sailor and the traveller, thousands of miles away, back to his own fire-side and his quiet home!
~Charles Dickens, The Pickwick Papers, 1836
copyright 2009
All material is here for you to read and feel free to share. I ask only for the acknowledgement of the author.
Irene Motz @ The Blue Moon
Christmas is a time when you get homesick -- even when you're home.
Whether it is in the heart or a place, there is no place like being home for Christmas.
This time of year brings back many memories of Christmas at home, as a child.
One of my favorite memories. was when we were living on a farm. The year must have been early 1960.
My parents, brother and I , lived with my Uncle Mike and Aunt Mary on one farm . We had immigrated from Austria to Canada in 1959.
My aunt and uncle had immigrated years earlier.
My mother wanted a picture of the Christmas tree but our camera had no flash.
My mother in her infinite wisdom had decided to take the entire fully decorated tree outside to take the photo.
No matter what came to my mother as a challenge , she overcame it with a simple solution.
My father without question brought the tree out and erected it in the middle of the snow .
It was magical. That little tree that had just been an ordinary ( but then is any Christmas tree every ordinary) Christmas tree standing in our living room, was now the most powerful memory of my childhood.
The photo was taken and it is in my mother's box of memories where I can re-visit that time whenever I need to.
My memories of being in my mother's home for Christmas are in my heart. I can close my eyes and see her trees that she has decorated over the years.
The tinsel glittering, the lights twinkling , the chocolates waiting to be snatched by little hands, and the beautiful ornaments that she has carefully packed away each year.
Christmas at home was the gift , I needed nothing else.
Over the years where we all spent Christmas has changed.
As my children grew up , they brought their children to my home for Christmas.
My home and tree ,were always decorated in the hopes that it would be magical to my children and grandchildren. It was my hope that their time in their mother's home for Christmas gave them a memory to re-visit when they needed to, as my mother's home and tree , had done for me.
The memories we create are the link we give our children to their beginnings, and our past.
Over the years it happens that we as families may grow apart , not from lack of love, but for lack of understanding or misunderstandings.
Christmas is a time of bringing people together . A time of memories shared. A time of putting aside what kept you apart.
The feeling of Christmas is always attainable. We are never far from one another, and when we look at all the challenges , there is always a simple solution.
If the flash is not working , take the tree outside.
There is always a glimmer of light no matter how dark times seem to be.
The magic of Christmas is in the memories you have made and shared. They are the link to your heart for all those you love, and a place where Christmas is all year round.
Merry Christmas from my home to yours.
Pull up a chair and sit a while and rest .
From my home to yours,
Irene Motz
Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth; that can transport the sailor and the traveller, thousands of miles away, back to his own fire-side and his quiet home!
~Charles Dickens, The Pickwick Papers, 1836
copyright 2009
All material is here for you to read and feel free to share. I ask only for the acknowledgement of the author.
Irene Motz @ The Blue Moon