Friday, December 18, 2009

Christmas memories 1

Memory is a wonderful thing.
It tends to be selective—you remember the good things better than the bad things. Sure, bad things leave their mark, but we do tend to remember the pleasant things more than the painful ones.
I think a lot of what we as adults try to recapture in our Christmas celebrating is the joy and innocence of youth. We work hard (and sometimes fail) trying to recreate the warm fuzzies of when we were kids. But time goes on, situations change, and even the way we celebrate takes on new forms.
So, I hope you have some pleasant Christmas memories as you slide through another December, and perhaps have opportunities to relive some of the fun you remember as a kid.

This is the first post of a few Christmas memories. May they at least trigger some good ones of your own. And it's never too late to start making some new ones.

The Sunday School Christmas Program

Every fall, the Sunday School teachers would start planning for the yearly 'event'. Finding cute (hopefully meaningful) little recitations, and some sort of drama for the teenagers to perform. It would involve several weeks worth of practicing, before 'that night' (one of my Mother's pet peeves was the constant reference to what would or wouldn't happen 'that night'.) As a kid I remember helping make the candy bags to give out at the end of the evening—a brown bag half full of candy, peanuts, orange, and probably some homemade fudge. And don't forget the costumes—angels with lopsided halos, shepherds in over-sized bathrobes, and wise men with 'priceless' boxes wrapped in foil.

One of my lifelong memories involves a play that I was in as a teenager. One of the bits of action on stage involved another actor handing me a note. Now it didn't matter if anything was actually written on the paper, it was just a prop. However, one rehearsal the gal who was to hand me the note had written this silly little riddle on it before handing it to me: 'What happened when they threw oranges at the synagogue?' 'The Jews (juice) ran out.' Well, it probably wasn't all that funny, but it cracked me up, spoiling the seriousness of that particular moment. And I still remember it mumblty mumble years later.

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