Happy 2025 to all! The start of a new year is often a time of reflection for many, and so we asked our readers to look back and share some of their favorite holiday memories with us. Thank you to all those who sent us a piece of their history, and we look forward to all of the good news that this year will bring!
Bob Abbott, Walkerville
Each year for Christmas, my mother would wrap up a “guessing gift” for her five children. As the family grew, she included the grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Starting Dec. 1 until Christmas, you got one guess a day. You could squeeze it. Twist it. You could work it over. But you only got to open it if you guessed correctly.
One year, my four siblings and I all had the same size gift. It was about 2” square and 3/4” thick. The five of us were relentless in our questioning. “Is it something I want?” “Yes.” “How long have I wanted this?” “All your life.” “Is it something I asked for?” (pause) “No!” “Can I eat it”? “I think you would eat it up.” “Will I like it?” “I hope so.”
We plotted together as to what questions to ask and discussed all Mom’s answers. What could it be? Come Christmas morning, five kids were eager to see what she had wrapped up for us. With great anticipation we opened them together. Inside each small box was a note that read. “All my love. Mom”.
Esther Moul, Hart
When I was about 10 years old and looking forward to what would be under the Christmas tree for me, I noticed a paper bag behind my grandfather’s easy chair in the living room. Curious, and not thinking that it might be a gift for me, I opened it to find a beautiful blue velvet dress that my mother was working on to give me. I silently put it back and never told her that I had found it. On Christmas morning I pretended to be surprised, but it did take some of the joy out of the occasion.
Gerald & Jacqueline Spierenburg, formerly Oceana, now Florida
It was sometimes challenging but, nevertheless, fun living in the Oceana countryside in the 1970s. Our young daughters played in the snowdrifts, and we (would) cut wood for the fireplace, as well as find a suitable tree in the woods to set up for Christmas. Under the tree, we set up a small wooden manger into which the girls could place pieces of straw for every good deed they performed over the holiday. We also hung Christmas stockings on the mantel and filled them with small presents. Then, on Christmas morning, they could run downstairs to see if Jesus (a baby doll) was comfortable in his crib since we were celebrating His birthday. It was a joyous time for our family. Sometimes we were “snowed in.” When that occurred, we gathered the wonderful neighbors on each side of our home and cranked homemade ice cream. With three churns available, we could crank out three different flavors. Yummy! Unforgettable moments!
Beth (Riley) Butler, Hart
I grew up in Mears and went to Golden Community Schools from kindergarten through eighth grade. Some of my favorite childhood memories of Christmas center around the entire school Christmas Program that was magically produced by pretty much the best music teachers anywhere, ever! Rita Aerts in my earlier years, then Lee Noble and Jean Luttman would each somehow get us to play and sing the same old carols. In the dimmed lights, the gym transformed into Carnegie Hall, and it seemed as if the excitement of Christmas to me was tied to those wonderful events. It was always super snowy and dark on those mid-December evenings. Special dresses and costumes were donned, poems and songs memorized and even little skits were worked on and performed to the massive audience of parents, grandparents, neighbors and pretty much the “whole” world, who seemed to show up to these annual “off Broadway” shows. If I try hard, I can still smell the halls and gym at Golden Community School. Either from the floor cleaner that Martha Brubaker or Carl Hill used liberally, or maybe it was just the recess and PE class sweat combined with the decades of us, the lucky kids in the county, firing all of our brain waves off so studiously that it created a detectable scent I will call “Eau de Parfum of Highest Education.” The culmination of each of these evenings was Santa Claus’ arrival with a bag of goodies, which basically, in the 60s and early 70s, was a box of hard candy that surely epitomized Christmas! Holiday greens and reds swirled with a little pure gold on ribbon and fruit-shaped sweetness that, by the next day if any were left, had turned into a singular piece of sugar that Dr. Stevens counted on for his job security during those years, I’m convinced. This nostalgia for days gone by is still the measure I use for comparison when anticipating Christmas - the way a small corner of the world I lived in celebrated the fun of Christmas, with a local grandpa in a Santa suit, and the Holiness of the Advent of our Savior Jesus, enjoyed through the eyes of a child and her best friends and neighbors.
Sharon Hallack, Hart
One year our family took a trip to San Antonio, Texas, for Christmas. Dad had rented a motorhome, and with our family of seven, by the time it was all packed, there wasn’t room for a Christmas tree. As a partner in Slocum Brothers Tree Farm, having a nice tree was one of the most important parts of Christmas for us. We might not have put it up until a week before Christmas, but we always had a huge one. Dad wasn’t feeling well when we left, so we didn’t argue. Besides, Dad assured us there were lots of tree lots in San Antonio and that we’d buy one when we got there. Once we settled into our campsite, we enjoyed sightseeing, but there wasn’t a tree to be found, at least not one Dad was willing to put down money for. We tried not to complain, but it was definitely a letdown. Back at our campsite, Mom tried to lift our spirits and suggested we go caroling after supper. Mom was always up for an adventure, and we agreed to go with her. Many people stuck their heads out of their campers and sang along. One couple even invited all of us into their small camper. He was a retired Salvation Army chaplain, and their camper was all decorated for Christmas. Their “tree” was a 12-inch-high styrofoam cone covered with red and green crocheted rosettes. We commented on how cute it was, sharing that this was the first Christmas we’d gone without a Christmas tree and how odd that felt. We enjoyed cookies and some more singing before we left. The next morning was either Christmas Eve or Christmas, and after breakfast we heard a soft knock on the camper door. It was the woman we’d met the night before holding her little red and green rosettes-covered styrofoam tree. She said something to the effect of, “I know it’s not as nice as a real tree, but I want you to have a tree for your Christmas.” I can remember feeling like we were in a Hallmark movie. It was magical. Even though we thought we were blessing others with our singing, we actually received the greater blessing. That tree made it home and held an important place in our memories and home each Christmas for years after. As an adult I look back on that experience and get misty-eyed. Christmas isn’t about a tree…it’s about thinking of others, of sharing the true meaning of Christmas - love, joy and peace - with the people we meet. It’s about being generous with what we’ve been given so that others can be blessed. May this be so for each of us as we enter 2025!
