Monday, December 10, 2012

an orange

When we were kids, my great-grandmother Emma, would tell us stories about when she, and her seven sisters. celebrated Christmas.  The stocking content was "your Christmas."  You woke up in the morning, and whatever was in your stocking was your gift.  Her favorite gift was an orange.  The big, juicy kind, the naval orange.  On good years, you got an orange, maybe a pair of socks and some chocolate.  Emma was 104 when she died December 27, 1999. 

The best part about Christmas,according to Emma, beside the orange, was the meal.  It was all about the meal.  Turkey, ham, vegetables and sweets.  Remember, there wasn't always electricity so the meal took all day and it was all hands on deck.  You got dressed up in your Sunday clothes and the meal took center stage.  And you ate and you ate and you ate.  But not the orange, you saved the orange.  The orange was for a couple days later.  The chocolate too.  It made the magic of Christmas last longer.

My grandmother told the same Christmas  stories.  She was not as good as telling stories as Emma.  I can still remember her sitting there telling those stories about Christmas.  And I was in awe that all she got was an orange.  But she always said it was about the meal, the sitting together in nice clothes, and eating and celebrating family.

Yesterday, a Christmas elf granted our family a visit with the "button" in his office.  No glass.  Awesome!  And being a mom, I had to ask, "can I bring him a sandwich?"  (Seriously, does that ever leave a females chromosomes?)

We spent an hour with the "button."  Addie checked him for head lice, smelled him one hundred times, we told jokes, discussed his future and he ate.  He ate a foot long sub and ice cold milk.  He savored every bite. 

I also wanted to bring him a piece of fruit.  He is an enormous fruit eater.  When I entered the store to purchase the fruit, I had my mind on an apple, the big, red Delicious apples.  But, the large, naval oranges caught my eye.  Always go with Vitamin C. 

I peeled the orange for him, (again, does that ever go away) and he savored every bite.  Every single bit of orange.  Sometime those oranges are dry inside but this one is juicy.  He ate that orange like it was the best orange ever.  And he commented about the smell.

And it was all about the meal and celebrating family. 

Very simply, it was about celebrating Life.  All kinds of Life.

This visit was really for Walker and Addie and in the end it became about the three of them.  And Frank and I just looked on and watched.  It was never awkward or angry.  It was about moving forward and openly discussing what the button wants and needs to do for a successful future.  And hidden cameras.  Kids love the thought of hidden cameras.

Two of my kids want electronics for Christmas.  One was happy with an orange and a cold container of milk.  And a hug.  Several hugs. 

The pain and the disappointment will be in my heart for a long time.  My son made horrible choices.  I am still sad as to what he exposed his younger siblings to and how often it happened.  He is a very capable young man who knew  better and should have known to ask for help.

This morning on my treadmill when I replayed and thought about the visit, there are some very positive things that we have learned.  And maybe we learned more than we know at this time yesterday in that office.  I saw my daughter breakdown yesterday when she hugged her older brother and then search his head for lice.  I saw my youngest son beam with pride while sitting next to his brother.  And I saw my husband tear up at all of this.  And I saw my son appreciate "just an orange" as a Christmas gift. 

So many times during the hustle and bustle during the holiday season, it is easy to get caught up in and on the "stuff" and the "stuff that doesn't matter." 

But yesterday in some kind man's office, with the smell of naval orange in the background, I felt Christmas and the Hope of new beginnings in my heart.

1 comment:

  1. Hello, this is the first post that I read of yours. It reminded me of my mom, who passed away last year right after Thanksgiving. She would also tell me about the stories of growing up during the Depression and how they were lucky to get anything for Christmas.
    I have tried to raise my boys that it is not about the "stuff." But on Christmas morning, it was always about the "stuff" that they got.
    Then we lost our house in 2008 to a fire. It was the Sunday before Thanksgiving. So we spent the next two solid months in a motel. The only thing that they were able to have something I was able to get from the Dollar Tree. Only one gift each, and the very small ham that I was able to cook in the crock pot in that motel room. For use to be together.
    For their birthdays, I would just put a picnic together with all, even their dad, family together. It was about coming together and no gifts from any of the kids that came, and eating together and having fun. I would invite people to Thanksgiving in that house that had no one and it was about the meal. God provided enough for all of the kids and friends that had no one to spend the holiday with to eat. I would do the same thing for Christmas in that house, it was always enough food.
    But, it was always about having that family time together. I have been trying to get that back since we got our new house in 2009. But brother fighting always puts a damper on things right before the meal. I just want that nice juicy orange for Christmas this year.

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