Christmas Memories of Miracles

Christmas is my season. I think of it all year long and can hardly wait to change out the Thanksgiving decorations for the Christmas ornaments (poor Thanksgiving...). I adore everything about Christmas! The music, the smells (cinnamon and pine), the twinkling lights! There is nothing quite so spectacular as sitting in a dim room next to a glowing Christmas tree. I think it brings back the feelings of childhood, remembering how I would stare in amazement at how beautiful our tree always was.

Along with those feelings come a flood of memories that cannot contain themselves. So many of my Christmases have been filled with wonders and miracles and it would be a shame not to write some of them down.

I will preface these stories with the note that growing up my family was of humble means and thus, many years we found ourselves the recipients of other people's generosity and compassion.

My earliest Christmas memory is still tainted with the childhood joy I felt when I ran into the living room on Christmas morning and saw our couch literally covered with stuffed animals and dolls. I was probably three or four at the time and my eyes went wide. I then looked to the left and saw a little vinyl playhouse. It was essentially a square tent of cheap materials, but oh how I loved it! I still remember that it was decorated with red shutters around the windows and flowers along the bottom. I was so happy that year! As an adult I shared with my mom how much that Christmas had always stayed with me and she told me that was a year when they had had almost no money. She had gone to DI and bought all the stuffed animals for practically nothing. She had been so sad she couldn't buy new things and so worried that we wouldn't like it and she felt that it was a miracle that my sister and I were so happy.

My first memory of Christmas being given to us came when I was five. I had 3 younger siblings and my mother was younger than I am now (!). My father had recently been permanently disabled on the job, making it difficult for him to work. A group of unidentified elves doorbell ditched us leaving a live Christmas tree on our porch along with a box full of presents, including a beautiful pink stroller that I pushed around for years. I can still remember exactly where I was standing when my parents opened the door and I saw that brand new stroller, waiting to be filled with dolls and teddy bears! I was ecstatic!

Years later I remember being 10 or 11 years old. My family was once again fairly destitute and I remember my mother saying that we were not going to have Christmas presents that year. Since Christmas morning wasn't going to be the same, I opted to stay the night at my Great-Grandmother's house. Close to midnight my mom called us on the phone telling us that my dad had received a Christmas miracle. Just minutes earlier, quite late at night, my dad had sold an old car giving my parents money to buy us a little Christmas. Since no stores were open on Christmas day, my parents left early on Boxing day and we had "Christmas morning" on the 26th instead.

When I was a teenager, for several years someone in our ward (we think, they were anonymous) would leave a box on our porch containing two presents for each of us. One of the presents was always a shirt or a sweater and the other was a toy or other gift. I remember one particular year when I was in high school and I was so elated to receive a popular and expensive brand of sweatshirt in my favorite colors and a bottle of Tommy Girl perfume (which was all the rage). My parents would never have been able to afford either of these gifts and it meant so much to me that someone would take the time to choose something that a self-conscious 15 year old would be excited to wear to school.

I am fully aware that Christmas is not about presents and that my family didn't need to be given gifts to be happy. However, the joy comes not from the present itself, but in the giving and the receiving. The simple act of being able to give someone something that they would appreciate brings an inner peace and joy that is indescribable and is the essence of the Christmas spirit. The receiver too feels the love of friends and of our Savior, knowing that they were being thought of and that the Lord cares enough for each of us to give us the little things that may be small and unimportant that we wouldn't normally be able to have. I think this is the true miracle of Christmas: being able to feel and share the love of our Savior with those around us. :)

Toadally Psychotic

Once upon a time there was a young, 21 year old, college student named (affectionately) Foolish Anna. Foolish Anna lived a very normal life full of school, work, and dating. There was one boy in particular whom Foolish Anna especially liked, but he drove her crazy. This boy was called (unaffectionately) McDorkle. Foolish Anna met McDorkle during the summer while he was home from college and when she had time to play. They dated all summer, but then he had to go back to school in Oregon.

To ease the pain of being apart, McDorkle called Foolish Anna almost every night, and almost every night they grew closer together, except for the times when McDorkle would unexpectedly (okay, the first time was unexpected, but after that it became a pattern) decide he didn't like Foolish Anna anymore and would, in effect, dump her. Foolish Anna didn't care. She was too busy being important at school. A few weeks would go by and then McDorkle would call or send an email begging Foolish Anna to be his again. Foolish Anna would relent and all would be well. McDorkle visited Foolish Anna many times during the school year. He was her diversion and she was his rock, standing by his side when his father died, when he did badly on exams, and when he was so lonely he cried. Foolish Anna even took a road trip with her bestest pal to visit McDorkle in his beautiful world of Oregon (this trip still tops the charts as BEST ROAD TRIP EVER! and it wasn't because of McDorkle).

Eventually McDorkle proclaimed his undying love for Foolish Anna and asked her to marry him despite the fact that he: thought she was too young; didn't like when she dyed her hair; treated her like a child; never took her to a fancy restaurant; stifled her humor; told her she was fat; didn't believe or support her dreams; and finally, made her cry nearly every time she saw him. Foolish Anna prayed and then said yes (much to her own surprise)because she remembered all the happy times, the ice cream, the laughter, the trip along the Oregon coast. A couple weeks into the engagement he dumped her again and she told him to never bother her ever again and she really meant it. She went home and cried and felt better about it the next day. That's when Anna stopped being foolish.

Exactly one week later, the new and improved Anna met the man of her dreams and they lived happily ever after. ;) However, nearly 3 years after ending it with McDorkle (who consequently emailed me 3 weeks after our breakup to tell me he was engaged to someone else) I was filled with a morbid curiosity as to his current situation. I spent some time on the internet and using my professional skills as a researcher, I was able to find a surprising amount of information about him. The most exciting for me was his current picture. HE LOOKS LIKE A TOAD! REALLY! I'M NOT EXAGGERATING! I thought I would die with laughter.

Ya know, it's the little things in life that make every day worthwhile, and that picture toadally made my day. ;)

Just so you all know that I don't harbor any bad feelings for McDorkle (the name was given to him by Alexander), I have posted my favorite memories of the happy times we had because even though we were a really crappy couple, we were really good friends.

In front of the Portland Temple (I can post this one cause we aren't touching) ;)


My sanity and road trip partner :)