Christmas Morning Meditation
I grew up with six siblings which was at times a mad house. It was Christmas morning that drew all of us together with one thought in mind, which was Santa Claus!
It seems we all opened our eyes and jumped out of bed at the same time, as if elves stood in the middle of the two large bedrooms upstairs loudly rang bells. We must have had night vision, for it would be pitch black. There was just one window in each room and no curtains to shut out light, but the light from distant stars did not illuminate the rooms. How we managed to run and meet at the top of the stairs without knocking each other down was a miracle. Eldest brother was always there first, waited for us, then slowly opened the door to peek out and see if there was any light from downstairs.
If there was a dim light coming from the kitchen we knew Mama was in there feeding the baby. A warm glow from the front parlor told us he tree lights were on and Dad was sitting in his chair with a cup of coffee, waiting patiently for us to begin Christmas morning traditions. The smell of cinnamon and warm bread from the kitchen tantalized us.
Usually, the six of us pushed, shoved, and tumbled down the stairs, but on Christmas morning there was an unspoken etiquette to adhere to. We quietly tip-toed down the stairs, eldest brother first, then the rest of us following in order. The excitement building in us was almost unbearable, but we had the strength of soldiers as we quietly went into the kitchen. We each kissed Mama and wished her and baby sister “Merry Christmas and God Bless you.”
We each were given a warm homemade cinnamon roll and one for Dad on a saucer. We again followed brother to the parlor to give Dad his roll and a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Dad, and God Bless you.”
Then we sat on the floor around Daddy’s chair. The lights on the tree were mesmerizing as we nibbled on cinnamon rolls. Christmas morning was very quiet, not a word was said as we sat there till Mama came in with baby sister. When Mama sat down, Dad would say a prayer then turn on the light. That was the signal to start gift giving. All our gifts were handmade by Dad or Mama. Dad’s gifts were made of wood and Mama’s were made of fabric. The only purchased gifts were in our Christmas morning socks. There was always an orange in the toe, then nuts and candies, and an apple on top.
I think back to those quiet, loving Christmas morning times and my heart swells with love. When I got married we had just two children, but I kept the same old family traditions for Christmas morning. The kids loved the cinnamon rolls and were very patient, waiting for the gift-giving.
Like my parents did for me, I gave my children warm memories of Christmas morning. We have so much fun reminiscing when we get together for Christmas Eve and Christmas afternoon.
Now, with my children spending Christmas morning at home with their own children, time finds me alone on each Christmas morning. Yet, I still get up early, bake cinnamon rolls, then have one with coffee as I gaze at the tree lights. The first few years this happened made me a little sad. Then I realized there was a reason for me to spend that time alone for my spiritual growth. Christmas morning is now my time to give thanks for all the precious memories I have. I light candles, say prayers for all my loved ones, send love and prayer to the spirits of my dear parents and elder brother who gave me so much love, and pray for all who may be alone and sad on their Christmas morning. I pray for world peace and for love to fill the hearts of all. This tradition of mine has healed any sadness I once felt over being alone on Christmas morning.
If anyone finds themselves alone on an early Christmas morning, think about me sending love and peace to you with a wish for a happy new year filled with love and a good life.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all.
© 2017 Phyllis Doyle Burns