Twas the Night Before Christmas

It is our custom on Christmas eve to visit my family and attend the candle lighting service at St. John's church, my home church. Sometimes the weather does not permit such travel, but this year, it was extremely mild, more like Easter than Christmas. We did not even wear jackets! And on our return trip, we were blessed to travel under a nearly full, gorgeous, Christmas moon.

We usually show up in time for a cold supper at my parents' house. While Christmas day supper features the main feast of one of my mother's fine baked chicken meals, with all the trimmings, the evening before, it is usually sandwiches and salads and sweets. I myself contributed freshly made chocolate chip cookies.

The church service begins at seven, so there is just enough time to have the meal, clean up the dishes, and go to the service. We carpool, traveling together along the winding rural backroads to our pretty little church - St. John's United Methodist Church in Cocolamus, PA - enjoying the Christmas lights and chatting it up among ourselves.

We arrived early enough at the church that my little sister and I had time to visit the graveyard, which is one of our favorite things to do. (My little sister, the family genealogist, is a cemetery lover like myself.) And so we wished a happy Christmas to Grandma and Pap Colyer, and Uncle Jimmer, and Uncle Ibie, and all the other beloved family who rest there.

The graveyard was a bit muddy, and I didn't realize until hours later, after we got home, that I'd managed to get mud all over my shoes (Crocs, once again!) and lower pant legs. But I was happy to have a mighty fine view of the almost-full Christmas eve moon from there, so I took some photos. You can see one of them in the extra photos area.

And here's a shout-out to Uncle Jimmer for the assist, as I used his grave stone to steady my camera for this moon shot. Happy Christmas, dear ones. We love you and we remember you; you are still with us.

And then we went inside, and we had church together, and we heard the old beloved story once again. One of the neat things at a small, rural church is that lots of people get to participate. The manger scene was constructed as people brought individual figures forward and arranged them; my little niece was given an angel to contribute.

And we sang together, and we sang and sang and sang. And heaven and nature sing! And heaven and nature sing! And I swayed, happily, and I have to admit that I was tempted to dance in the aisles. But I didn't. You know: Methodists, and all of that. What? Dancing in the aisles? I might have shocked somebody out of five years' growth! But I danced in my own spot, swaying back and forth. As one does.

My father was one of the candle lighters; and so it is that he became a Bringer of the Light. As the service concluded, the manger scene was placed at the back of the church, and we were each invited to take a piece of straw from the manger, a reminder of the Christ child: Emmanuel, God with us.

And then we went back to my parents' house for the traditional reading of Twas the Night Before Christmas. My parents are 85 years old: happily married for the past 65 of those years. Most years, my dad reads the story. Sometimes, my mom assists.

They sat together on the couch and I snapped some pictures. The photo above shows my parents looking happy together: wrapped in each other's love, they are clearly doing something they enjoy, spending time with family at the Christmas holiday. (Note the family photo to the left in this scene. Yes, I am in it!)

We kids gathered around and we laughed and carried on. My father read, and he acted out some of the parts of the story. At the end, he finished up and handed the book to my mom. She clasped it to her and hugged it, and closed her eyes and smiled, looking totally content. (You may see that picture in the extra photos area as well.)

And then my husband and I bid our farewells and we drove back home, under the light of the Christmas moon. Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

There is a song that I love about the arrival of the Christ child, and I'm including it as my song for the day. It's by John Michael Talbot, with one of my favorite songs: Wonderful Counselor.

So let us beat all our swords into plowshares
And let the wolf come be the guest of the Lamb
And let the song of all the worlds nations be peaceful
Worship the child come to the world in Bethlehem

I'm including bonus links to two Christmas postings from prior years that some of you may enjoy:
The Legend of the Crittergators in the Manger
A Christmas Stocking for Mini Bunzini