As a child in the early 1950s I remember on Christmas Eve we went Christmas Caroling to the old folks and shut-ins in and around our little village in central western New Hampshire. We then gathered at the smallest protestant chapel in New England for the Annual Christmas Eve Candle Light Service.

It was truly “candle light” as the building had no electricity until a few years later when I helped (watched-?) my Dad wire the building for a lights and outlets. There were candles in the windows and at a few strategic places around the one room building that had a capacity of maybe fifty people. Heat was from a pot belly stove that we had to fire up shortly after lunch on Christmas Eve day.

The Christmas Ever Service was primarily the Story of Christmas from the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 2, verses 1 -20 with many old familiar Christmas Carols at appropriate places in the Scripture and usually a few poems or other readings included. Someone did hold a flashlight so the reader could see the words. When we lit our candles at the end of the service, we tried to keep them burning all the way home.

Another part of my early Christmases was that my Grandpa, who lived near the coast of Rhode Island came to visit for a week. I only “knew” Grandpa for three weeks a year; Christmas week and two weeks in the summer. He travelled by train which only stopped at the local station if someone needed to get off or there was a flag hanging there meaning someone needed to get on. His visit was special as he was my only living grandparent.

Christmases were routine until my little sister broke her leg in mid-summer 1964. She spent most of the summer in the hospital in traction and all fall at home in a body cast from her rib cage down one leg to her ankle. And then Christmas season came and time to go into the woods to get a Christmas tree! Not a problem as my folks dressed her warmly, put her in a sleeping bag, put her on a toboggan, on off to the woods we went! Good idea except the cast cracked in transit. The “rest of the story” is the Doctor took the cast off about two weeks early so she was cast-less for Christmas!

After college I was drafted into the Army, married a Wisconsin girl a few years later, and served in the Army for 21 years. I am proud to say that for the fifty-plus years of marriage we have spent every Christmas with one family or the other except for seven years – the six that we lived in Germany and our first year in Texas. Christmas in Texas was memorable but not a favorite! I remember being at a school Christmas presentation in very lightweight summer clothes, doors open to the outside, perspiration pouring down our back, and singing “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas”! The next three years we drove from Texas to Wisconsin for our “White Christmas” with family!

Christmas 1986 was spent in Stuttgart, Germany and after the Christmas Eve service we invited a German lady home for some cookies and hot chocolate. I don’t know how the discussion started, but she shared that she was in Berlin in 1961 when the Berlin Wall suddenly went up. She went out to go shopping and there was a big brick wall going right across the street, stretching far to the left and far to the right, and blocking her from her food stores. You understand history so much better when you hear it from someone that was there!

At Christmas time 1989 I received my annual Christmas letter from a German man that I had met a dozen years earlier. He had been a toddler in World War II and, with his Mother, had escaped what became East Germany to settle in what became West Germany. In his letter he thanked me, and my American Soldier friends, for all we had done for without us he could have never gone home. The “Iron Curtain” had just come down and he had just returned from visiting his ancestors’ home town for the first time in 45 years – although it was only an hour to the east! That thank you comment was in appreciation for the United States!

By Christmas 1996 we were settled in Wisconsin’s Coulee Region and we went to New Hampshire for Christmas. Like so many times over the years we went Christmas Caroling to the old folks and to shut-ins in and around the little village where I grew up. It was rather a strange and forlorn feeling when we drove into our yard to sing Christmas Carols to my Dad who was definitely “old” by then. We didn’t know it then, but that would be his last Christmas.

Celebrate Christmas this year! Better yet, celebrate your memories of Christmases past. Share Christmas stories with family members of different generations. You might even consider writing them down for future generations. Read the Story of Christmas in Luke 2: 1-20. Read the longer Story of Christmas starting with Luke 1:26 all the way through Luke 2:40. Celebrate the Baby Jesus and be thankful for your faith, family, and freedom! Merry Christmas!