By Lynn Moncus
While listening to a group of people talk about their favorite Christmases, my mind just naturally wandered into the past and the times we celebrated Christmas in the canyons. It then ambled to those years during which we lived in the courthouse, and finally landed on the adult years.
To select one favorite Christmas became almost impossible because each one that came to mind was special. Of course, I couldn’t begin to go through all of them because some have blended through these many years. I’m sure you are thinking of some as you read and may even find one that stands out more than others. Let’s just remember together and see what happens.
The quiet ones in the canyons stand out because we were all together in our little house and exchanged simple gifts while sitting around a small, simply decorated pinon tree. I remember one Christmas Eve when Santa appeared at the living room window and nearly scared me silly. Of course, I didn’t realize that Dad and my brother had disappeared for a few minutes, but I surely landed in Mother’s lap in one big hurry when someone tapped on that window and began to talk to me. That was a brief visit because Santa and his helper realized I was too frightened to enjoy much of anything.
The first Christmas Eve spent in the new courthouse was almost as frightening when I heard someone stomping up the stairs. Santa knocked on the door and called my name just as I was heading for my favorite hiding place–the sewing machine treadle. I listened without comment until Mother rescued me one more time.
Actually, I had enjoyed seeing Santa in his white beard and red suit when we attended a Christmas Tree at the Ima School. He didn’t scare me then because he had eyes just like Dad’s and wore boots just like his. I was eager to talk to him then because we were in the light and because I could look him in the eye.
We were always made very aware of why we were celebrating Christmas and listened to the story of Christ’s birth, which seemed particularly real in those canyons on dark, starry nights. I’d wander outside to pick out the brightest star and could imagine the Wise men following it to the manger. A vivid imagination began to develop at an early age and certainly helped in my understanding why we were celebrating Christ’s birth.
Let’s enjoy our memories during this special season and share them with each other as we take time to visit. We are very fortunate to have the freedom to celebrate and to be able to gather just as freely in our homes and churches.
Aggie and I wish each of you a most Blessed and Merry Christmas!