Comments from the Canyon: Lynn Moncus
Recently, I was reviewing some of the news items about past Christmas celebrations in our county, and as usual, felt inspired by all that occurred in each community.
Neighbors gathered in homes and later in schools and churches to celebrate Christ’s birth and to spend a few hours together in order to break the monotony of hard work and isolation.
Trying to imagine how today’s children would react to the simple gifts of those days boggles the mind. What would they think if they received a little ribbon candy, an orange, an apple and a small home made toy? Times have changed, and the gifts have escalated to the breaking point. All too many seem to think in terms of dollars spent rather than in terms of the meaning of the season.
Those of us who were privileged to attend the Christmas celebrations in those small communities are much aware of just how fortunate we are because we had the opportunity to savor those small gifts and to spend a few hours with our neighbors. We enjoyed Santa’s visit and also enjoyed the Christmas story. The programs were very special even though they might not capture to the flashy shows we see on television.
My dad used to tell the story of a major discovery by his brothers and sisters when they were crawling around under the stage a few days before the Christmas program. One member found a Santa suit, complete with beard, stretched out in a box and warned the others to get out fast because he had seen a dead body.
The whole group came out scared silly and had many scrapes and bruises from hitting the stage floor as they crawled out. They didn’t mention that to anyone and didn’t really solve that problem until a couple of years later when they learned a little more about Santa.
Most of us can recall similar stories as we think about those good days of the past. I recall disappointing myself by discovering a beautiful rag doll mother was making for me.. She had it well hidden, and I wasn’t even looking for anything particular at the time. Keeping quiet and acting surprised was a bit of a chore, but I didn’t want to disappoint her as much as I had disappointed myself.
I still have that doll and can still see it hidden in the closet on that day.
Lets all remember the good times we had and add to those memories we celebrate this Christmas. How old were you when you began to collect those memories? I can remember when I was three and was frightened out of my skin when a light appeared outside the window in our living room in our little house in the canyon. Santa began to speak to me and I had a major runaway as I headed for the machine treadle to hide from the world.
Mother had to drag me out of that cave and told me Santa had gone because he didn’t intend to scare me. I was much relieved when I reentered the living room and saw Claude and Clough sitting there to protect me. I couldn’t understand why they were laughing but knew I was safe.
Have a most blessed Christmas!