A Christmas Story!

The Ghost of Christmases Past

As I slowly rocked my new bundle of joy in Granny's favorite rocker, tears gently rolled down my cheeks. The music of Christmas, along with the sound of raindrops tapping on the tin roof, moved me to another day and time.
Even though I sat there with my eyes closed, the scenes were so vivid in the recesses of my mind.
There on the hill, where most of the family continued to reside, were the sounds of laughter and the smell of wood burning in the fireplace.
Christmas lights were strung along the bannister of the staircase and connected to the 6 ft. Cedar tree that Mama had so diligently and meticulously decorated for the Christmas season. This was her favorite time of year, especially baking a variety of fruit cakes, cookies and of course her renowned pecan pies! My how, even as children, our mouths watered as the smells from Mama's kitchen wooed us from our games of play to gather around the table and sample whatever we could sneak off a plate!
As the ghost of Christmases past enveloped my mind, I saw scene after scene that brought a warm, yet melancholy feeling to my heart.
Yes, family, the essence of love, the kind of love that made the holidays especially significant from childhood right on through adulthood and old age, was the tie that bound our lives together. The unconditional love that Mama had found from a loving God was bestowed upon each and every person whose lives she touched. Never a harsh word, never a prejudice displayed, the epitome of God himself was manifested through her difficult yet profound lifestyle.
She would watch as we sneaked a cookie or slice of pie, and smiled within herself at the fact that even the simplest of things could bring satisfaction to our young and innocent lives.
Daddy, in the background, was always pulling coins from his pocket and challenging who could be the quietest for five minutes would be rewarded! Of course, all of us kids would put our hands over our mouths so as to endeavor to be the quietest...but as always one would get tickled and start a giggling episode that would end the silent contest!
Then there was Auntie Em who always played the piano and started singing carols, and once in a while she would even make up one of her own to entertain us with! The reason it would be an entertaining song was because she would make us dance a jig while she sang. We were reluctant at first, but after a few notes, we'd all laugh and dance. Such fun we had when all the family was together.
After a gala time, we would all gather around the Christmas tree, sitting Indian style, as we listened to uncle Bob read the Christmas story about the birth of Jesus from the gospel of Luke. The story always brought tears to our eyes because he read it with such compassion that it seemed as kids we were right there in the stable where Jesus was born! The never ending story that still brings tears to my eyes each time I hear it read!
Again and again my mind was entertained by the ghost...from the table to the bed, we kids would hide under the covers, awaiting the coming of Santa, and Daddy had convinced us that he had personally asked Santa to come by our house with a bag of switches if he saw a light on after nine o'clock!!! So, needless to say, we wasted no time getting in bed!
Then, morning would come, early, and we could hardly wait to tiptoe to the living room, scared that Santa just might still be there, but delighted to see that he had gone and had left our toys and gifts!
Memories are a precious commodity that I found even more essential the older I got.
Suddenly, my little bundle of joy brought me back to the present as she squirmed in my arms, opened her eyes and looked into mine! I reached for her bottle and nestled her even closer to my heart.
For sure, a grandchild is a gift like no other, and being a grandmother means memories will ensue in the life of this little bundle of joy that one day she will treasure just as I do now, especially from the ghost of Christmases past!

D. S. Mullis
Copyright 2012