Silent Night
The Christmas lights twinkle as I wrap Christmas presents. The sky is dark and overcast and wintry even for our Arizona desert. My thoughts drift in different directions: anticipation of the arrival of our children from Wisconsin and Texas, and the memory of their childhood days.
One memory stands out that of a Christmas when my daughter was born. It as a few days before Christmas and my husband, a firefighter in Gila Bend, Arizona, had to work his usual 24 hour shift. My mother came over to visit for the day and hold that new granddaughter of hers. She decided to spend the night, and we watch a Christmas movie with the Father Knows Best cast and we drank hot chocolate and had an enjoyable night. We said our good nights and went to bed. I remember waking up thinking that the baby should be up soon, but I saw the Christmas lights and thinking I had forgotten to turn them off, I went into the living room, and there in the rocking chair sat my mother with her little granddaughter cradled in her arms, facing the Christmas tree. I hesitated to disturb her, but she saw me, and I sat down on the sofa. My mother had tears in her eyes. Then she told me this story, "Marsha, you were only six months old at your first Christmas. It was Christmas eve and I picked you up, you weren't awake, I just had this urge to hold you. I turned on the Christmas lights on the tree and just sat and held you. I love this time of year. You know what I thought of?" She asked.
"No, Mama, what?"
"I thought of Mary holding Jesus and pondering all that she had seen when the shepherds came and told her of the angels heralding the birth of our Lord. I thought of all the hopes and dreams I had for you. For all of you. I just wept. Every year I had a baby I always picked that child up, sat in the rocker in front of the lighted tree and wept for joy."
What could I say? I kissed my mother and told her I loved her, and went to bed, leaving Mama and my daughter to bond. As I crawled back into bed, I thanked God for my mother sharing that part of herself, because she didn't always do that, and I really needed that. I thanked God for sending us a Savior, because we cannot save ourselves. I thanked God for that first silent and holy night. I fell asleep with that hymn in my mind and on my heart. It is dear to me to this day for that reason.
One memory stands out that of a Christmas when my daughter was born. It as a few days before Christmas and my husband, a firefighter in Gila Bend, Arizona, had to work his usual 24 hour shift. My mother came over to visit for the day and hold that new granddaughter of hers. She decided to spend the night, and we watch a Christmas movie with the Father Knows Best cast and we drank hot chocolate and had an enjoyable night. We said our good nights and went to bed. I remember waking up thinking that the baby should be up soon, but I saw the Christmas lights and thinking I had forgotten to turn them off, I went into the living room, and there in the rocking chair sat my mother with her little granddaughter cradled in her arms, facing the Christmas tree. I hesitated to disturb her, but she saw me, and I sat down on the sofa. My mother had tears in her eyes. Then she told me this story, "Marsha, you were only six months old at your first Christmas. It was Christmas eve and I picked you up, you weren't awake, I just had this urge to hold you. I turned on the Christmas lights on the tree and just sat and held you. I love this time of year. You know what I thought of?" She asked.
"I thought of Mary holding Jesus and pondering all that she had seen when the shepherds came and told her of the angels heralding the birth of our Lord. I thought of all the hopes and dreams I had for you. For all of you. I just wept. Every year I had a baby I always picked that child up, sat in the rocker in front of the lighted tree and wept for joy."
What could I say? I kissed my mother and told her I loved her, and went to bed, leaving Mama and my daughter to bond. As I crawled back into bed, I thanked God for my mother sharing that part of herself, because she didn't always do that, and I really needed that. I thanked God for sending us a Savior, because we cannot save ourselves. I thanked God for that first silent and holy night. I fell asleep with that hymn in my mind and on my heart. It is dear to me to this day for that reason.
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