No blood, just mud. Sound like a crime clue? Actually it’s how my parents, Jim and Mary Day, 92 and 87, described their recent fall in the street.
“It was a real blessing that two of our neighbors were outside and saw us. Or rather, saw us ‘disappear’,” my mom said. While attempting to get my Dad into the car, he lost his balance and fell back against my Mom. Minor scratches meant nothing to their feelings of “What now?”
Two neighbors came to the rescue on Lincoln Street in Old Westerville. Neighbors have been there for them for many years, as they opted to stay in their home, rather than moving to a single story place. At times, I’ve wondered at the wisdom of that decision, but it’s not mine to make. And they aren’t children.
Our neighbors on Lincoln Street were always wonderful. I remember fondly the Wells, Bagley’s, Minor’s, William’s, Lust’s, Recob’s, Schick’s, Wyatt’s, Lily’s, Morgan’s, Hunt’s and other’s whose names elude my memory. We Lincoln Street kids grew up together and watched people through many stages of life. For this reason, I’m glad my parents are still there.
This is the time of year I become more melancholy. Good memories take the forefront of my mind and heart. This “holiday” season came about for one reason, and I call it what it truly is: Christmas. We celebrate the birth of Jesus.
Some of my best memories are of putting on my best dress, bundling up and going downtown to Lazarus to see the Christmas window display; shopping in the secret store where only children were allowed; having my picture taken with Santa; driving past the lights downtown with the tree on top of Lazarus as a mainstay; seeing the huge manger scene at State Auto; midnight Christmas Eve services at Trinity Episcopal Church downtown, where my parents were married; cookie baking, gift wrapping, carols, playing in the snow, lying on my back under the Christmas tree, and no school rate high on my memory list.
The trend is to call December the Holiday Season, apparently to not offend those of other faiths or those who choose no faith. God gave us the gift of His Son to wipe away all our sins so we are then forgiven. We all need forgiveness. Not one of us is perfect and never will be.
Each of us is created for unique reasons. If this life is “all there is,” why would we be here in the first place?
Today I discovered “Go Fish,” not the card game, but a contemporary Christian singing group of three men. Here is a portion of the song, “Christmas with a capital ‘C’”:
It’s called Christmas
What more can I say
It’s about the birth of Christ
And you can’t take that away
You can call it something else
But that’s not what it will be
It’s called Christmas with a Capital “C”
God bless us everyone. Merry Christmas.