My Favorite Christmas Ever!

Last week, I promised to tell you about my favorite Christmas. Now that the temp has dropped here in sunny FL, I might actually be able to get into this. (Hang on a second while I grab my coffee...)

It was December of 1990 and I was 12 years old. My family was still living in the Amish community, but earlier that year we had "upgraded" to a small, drafty house with (can you believe it?) electricity and spring water! Still no bathroom, though, and the money was tight-- really tight. We were still attending the Amish church pretty regularly, even though the sermons were nothing short of depressing, and the people full of spiritual bondage. But we didn't know where else to go.

One Sunday it was announced, as was the custom, that an elderly couple was having a wood-cutting that Saturday. The husband, a proud grandfather of over 50 kids, was dying of cancer, so they scheduled his wood-cutting for him, knowing that he and his wife would need one to survive the winter.

I loved wood-cuttings! The feel of a cross-cut saw vibrating through a dry log always gave such immense satisfaction. But I think I enjoyed listening to my Dad and the other men engrossed in theological "discussions" more than anything in the world! They would get so animated that it sometimes took serious "saw-nudging" to help Dad remember what we were supposed to be doing!

"For old time's sake!" (This is a smaller version, but it still felt good to the hands.)

Well, that Saturday we dressed warm, as the Tennessee weather was rather chilly, and left for the wood-cutting. It was a blissfully busy day and after just one hour of pulling that cross-cut saw back and forth, I knew I would be doing it in my sleep that night-- again. But I didn't mind. Even the pain of sore muscles felt good after a wood-cutting.

Then, after enjoying an Amish feast for lunch, Dad discovered a small, frozen pond behind the house and encouraged us to try skating in our shoes. I'm not much of a skater. Never have been. Think I'm about as graceful as a drunk ox. But slipping and sliding over the pond was exhilarating-- even when I landed on my rump.

Once, when I bumped into my Dad and we fell laughing to the cold, wet ice, I remember him saying, in a tone filled with wonder, "What a great way to spend Christmas!"

Christmas?! Today?!

I looked at him in shock! I had forgotten about Christmas!

I know this may sound crazy to you. You're probably thinking that all children wake up, automatically knowing that it's Christmas morning. Well, obviously not. Living out there in the boonies, with no media, and among a people that do not celebrate Christmas, I didn't even realize what day it was.

Dad knew, of course. But I think he was so discouraged by our financial situation, that he hadn't even mentioned the upcoming holiday. But cutting wood for a needy family, and skating on that frozen pond, seemed to bring a renewed spirit to my Dad. I looked at him again; the worry and care that was always etched on his face had disappeared, and in that moment, it seemed that all was right with the world.

That night, after a mug of Dad's famous Egg Nog to warm us from the inside-out, he pulled out a project that he had been working on secretly. It was our Christmas gift, but it wasn't wrapped. Unfolding a simple piece of cardboard, Daddy revealed a board game that he had created, just for that night. I won't go into details, because I don't want anyone to steal the idea before he gets around to publishing it, but suffice it to say that it was incredible!

Surrounded by popcorn, hot dogs, and the first soda we'd had in a very long time, I looked around at my family and smiled. When I awoke that morning, I had no idea that it was Christmas, and therefore, would never have guessed it was destined to be the best Christmas ever! A Christmas with no presents, but a wonderful, amazing day!