Memories of a CHRISTmas past.

I grew up with five brothers and one sister in a loving home in rural Pennsylvania back in the 60's. Our parents were absolutely the best folks any child could have wished for. I wanted to tell you about how they taught us lessons and here is just one example.

One evening just a day or two before Christmas Dad asked us if we had a favorite toy, and of course each one of us said yes. He then asked us what they were and as we told him, mother wrote them down.

After supper Dad asked us each to go upstairs and get those favorite toys and we did so. As we sat on the living room floor Mom and Dad brought out wrapping paper and asked us to wrap them. From each of us came confusion and questions of why.

Dad got up and walked away saying that he would be right back and we immediately bombarded Mom with our questions and all she said was just wait a minute. And then Dad came back in the room with a Santa suit on and told us that because we were so fortunate as to have a favorite toy each, we needed to spread the goodness of those favorite toys and give them to others that were less fortunate and share God's blessings so that they too could have a favorite toy.

I'm sure you know how well that went over with us seven kids. We pitched a fit and begged and cried and did whatever we could do to stop it, but it was to no avail. Our mean parents made us wrap them and since they had already written down our favorites there was no way to substitute another of much less personal value! We were stuck. And we were mad as we wrapped our toys, now crying the whole time.

After we finished they loaded us all up in the station wagon, Dad in his Santa suit and all of the gifts in the back, and we left. He drove down a small street to a home where they had even more children and their father had passed away suddenly that year.

As Dad got out he looked at each one of us, all of us still mad and still crying over the loss of our toys, and then he said "Now watch how God works", and he brought the gifts to the door as we all watched from the station wagon.

Crying that is, until we saw all the children pop out of that front door and receive the gifts handed them by Santa. We sat silently and in awe as we watched them open those gifts in front of Santa and their very grateful and crying Mother. I saw one of them absolutely tickled to death to get my very well used "Uncle Wiggly" board game.

And as Santa climbed back into the station wagon waving goodbye and yelling "Merry Christmas",  he witnessed every one of us crying even harder , although this time not because we had lost our toys, but because we now fully understood the true meaning of CHRISTmas!

As Santa drove home the seven of us children stopped crying and began jabbering excitedly about the other old toys that we were going to wrap the very minute that we got home. And that's when Mom and Dad began to cry, and we were all forever touched by God's gifts.

God bless you all,

Glen C. Schulz