12/24/2023
REMEMBERING A CHRISTMAS ‘PAST’
Column by Steve Horton
(Note: This column was written seven years ago—December 2016. I trust it’s still relevant. Merry Christmas)
Three spirits visited Scrooge on what would be, for him, a life-changing Christmas Eve. They were the ghosts of the Past, Present, and Future.
As we find ourselves in the midst of another Christmas, with all of the anticipation and excitement it brings—or should bring—I doubt many of us will spend much time wondering what future holidays might hold in store for us. Nor will many of us expend much effort taking measure of whether currents actions and attitudes might adversely impact our coming tomorrows. Such contemplation, if undertaken at all, seems better suited for another day.
More likely, it is Christmas ‘Past’ that our thoughts will turn to: memories of what once was. The trimmings of heart and mind. The customs, traditions, and expectations from bygone years.
I have no specific recollection of the Christmas season of 1966—now 50 years in my past. No milestone event occurred that still illuminates my personal memory.
I would have been 15, a sophomore in high school. My father and mother were both 37, sister Carol was 14, and brother Craig 11. I had played on the junior varsity football team that fall. I do retain a few vivid memories of that experience. I don’t recall that I had a steady girl friend on that particular holiday; however, I’m pretty sure there was probably a young lady around who I secretly wished would fill that role. I do remember that romantic possibilities occupied a lot of my thoughts at that age.
Chores and milking cows—the daily necessities of life on a dairy farm—would have occupied much of my pre-school mornings and post-school afternoons. The holiday vacation, starting a few days before Christmas, would have been eagerly awaited, giving us scholars at Fowlerville High a respite from our studies and homework.
Watching favorite TV shows, listening to popular songs on the radio, going to town with my mother or father for some reason or other, attending church services, various family activities, and hanging out with my friends would have been part of the routine that existed during that long-ago year.
On the day of Christmas Eve we would have probably stopped to visit with my great-grandparents and that evening we would have attended the candlelight services at the Methodist Church in town.
The next day, on Christmas morning, we’d have opened our presents after the cows had been taken care of and after breakfast was finished. Those gifts would have been located under a decorated tree that stood in front of the large picture window in the family room. Later, we would spend the afternoon at my grandparents’ home for the gathering of our extended family—the holiday feast, the long wait as the dishes were washed and put away, and then more presents to open.
That year our Christmas ‘Present’ blended seamlessly with our recent Christmas ‘Pasts’.
But the future lying just ahead of us would drastically change that situation. My father would be in and out of the hospital the following year and in November, less than a year later, would die from heart failure. The Christmas of 1967 was one of grief and loss. Our family of five was now four. A year later we would move off the farm and that chapter of our lives was over. A new set of tomorrows awaited each of us. A new lifestyle and new routines would evolve. Adjustments made.
AS I THINK AGAIN OF THOSE LONG-AGO MOMENTS, I’m well aware that, while this was a life-altering change of circumstances for us, other people, other families, have experienced similar scenarios—many of them much worst. There is indeed nothing new under the sun.
We have much in common with others, a shared humanity, ties that bind us. In life and living, we are more alike than different.
Our days are generally filled with the reoccurring tasks of work and the activities of leisure, of time spent with loved ones and friends, interrupted by special occasions that bring us happiness and satisfaction and, alas, other times that cause us grief and remorse.
Our past—the events that occurred and how we remember them—have, of course, brought us to this present. How we proceed, and perhaps just as important, the attitude and approach we embrace as we face our future, will help in part to determine the outcome.
True, events outside our province and beyond our control do occur and have their repercussions—for good or ill. We know all too well that stuff happens, changing the trajectory of our life from where it seemed headed and what we had envisioned, to an unforeseen direction. Still, personal choice remains and has its consequences—also for good or ill.
The Christmas Season seems an appropriate time to pause and take stock—recalling our past, judging our present, and anticipating (as best we can) what lies up ahead.
The spirits of the Past, Present, and Future, the lessons that Scrooge learned from their visitation, offered him a second chance; an offer of redemption that he embraced.
The message of second chances and of redemption—for mankind and for each of us—is inherent in another, older Christmas Story; one involving a birth in a manger.
It informs us that in the pervasive darkness of night, when all might seem lost or unknowable, when fear stirs from within and dangers appear all about, when we see only enemies rather than the ties that bind us, a star is seen glowing in the heavens—a light that beckons us forward, guiding our path of hope, shining the way to salvation.
Sent from my iPhone
