Christmas
Lights
By Mary Manners
When the subject
of Christmas gifts comes up, most people think of packages wrapped in colorful
paper and shimmery bows, sitting under the Christmas tree, just waiting to be
opened.
When I think of
Christmas gifts, I think of my dad, who passed away seventeen years ago this
holiday season. He was a man of many gifts, including the joy he shared for the
traditions of Christmas.
Dad loved
light—especially the light that brightened a fresh-cut pine tree in honor of
the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Each December first, like
clockwork, Dad piled his family—all seven of us—into our Chevy station wagon
and drove us to the tree lot where, shivering in the Chicago-winter cold, we oohed and aahed over each and every tree until we found the perfect one.
Once home, with
the tree safely arranged in a metal stand and watered, Dad climbed the ladder
to our attic (a mysterious place, indeed) where the Christmas lights were
stored. He’d lower the battered cardboard box (re-used, season after season) to
the floor below and dust it off.
Then my brother
and sisters—five of us—gathered ’round him in the living room and waited, eyes
huge with wonder, as he carefully unraveled the strands of lights and tested
each one. No matter how stubborn the bulbs, dad always managed to get them
working.
Beautiful, vibrant
colors turned the room to a kaleidoscope, dancing over walls and windows with
the feel of winter magic. One by one, my siblings and I each took the place of
honor beside Dad, helping him to adorn the tree with light. Pine sap clung to
our fingers, but we didn’t care. All the while, our hearts soared with
happiness and child-like wonder.
Finally, dad
gently gathered the Christmas star from the box. Hushed with awe, we waited while
Dad chose one of us to hoist to his shoulders for the greatest thrill—placing
the treasured beacon of light—the Baby Jesus Star—atop the highest limb.
Somehow, Dad always sensed who needed that extra touch of attention, and there
was never any argument.
With the lights in
place (just in time for nightfall—always) we circled the tree and held hands to
sing Silent Night. In the earliest years, the tune didn’t always carry and the
words were sometimes off, but Dad didn’t care. He knew we understood what the
tree—and especially the lights—symbolized…the birth of our Lord and Savior,
Jesus. The most wonderful gift of all!
This year, Mom
joined Dad in their eternal Happily-ever-after. Though the loss is great, memories of the many happy
times we shared fuel my days…and my writing. Each Christmas brings a fuller,
richer sense of wisdom that is woven into the legacy of the stories I love to
share.
So, as we journey
into another holiday season I would like to remind you to treasure every day…every
precious memory made…and I wish you and yours a Merry Christmas.
~~~~~
Nestled into five beautiful acres just outside Hope
Creek, Tennessee, Christmas Inn is an unforgettable place known for its joyful
atmosphere and festive setting. Holiday decorations adorn each room. Trees
glittering with ribbons and ornaments, gorgeous wreaths, velvet stockings and
pine-scented candles brighten visitors’ stay at this vacation spot dedicated to
Christmas all year, every year. The resort offers all the usual enticements
plus one unique amenity…love. The little white chapel behind the inn, built by
the Christmas family in the 1890s, boasts bell tower bells that toll when
couples fall in love.
Every year people come to the inn looking for their Christmas spirit. Sometimes they find love too. Will the bells ring again this year?
Every year people come to the inn looking for their Christmas spirit. Sometimes they find love too. Will the bells ring again this year?
~~~~~
Mary
Manners lives in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains of East
Tennessee with her husband Tim and their rescue dog Axel, mischievous cats
Colby and Rascal, 6 rambunctious chickens, and 13 fish.
Mary writes small-town family
romances laced with faith, hope, and humor. Her books have earned multiple
accolades including two Inspirational Reader’s Choice Awards, the Gail Wilson
Award of Excellence, the Aspen Gold, the Heart of Excellence, and the National
Excellence in Romance Fiction Award.
Mary
loves long sunrise runs, Smoky Mountain sunsets, flavored coffee, and
chocolate…lots of chocolate.
