Chris Clegg
I have so many special memories of Christmas. Like many people, it is difficult to pick one memory over another. Each Christmas is special.
There was the time I received my very own pool cue for Christmas. I was the youngest of three boys and we had a pool table. I literally learned to play by shooting over my head looking over the edge of the table.
One Christmas, Uncle Dick Luka visited. Mom and Dad had went to town leaving their six brats at home and we wouldn’t let Uncle Dick in the house until he gave us a present. Out to the truck he went and came back with six bottles of Baby Duck wine.
Best uncle ever!
Never had a drop! I was probably only seven or eight but what a present!
I remembered learning my lines for a play at church. A grand total of four people plus the minister showed. No matter! It was still fun!
There were community Christmas concerts at the Gage School which was closed decades earlier. All the children were expected to perform. I was a terrible singer (I know, hard to believe!) but we did our duty. I’m sure the coyotes ran for the hills when I sang.
But there was always a delicious bag of treats waiting for us at the end when Santa visited.
Ah, Santa! One time, neighbourhood farmer Don Hart did the duty and arrived on his old clunker of a snowmobile. Man, that thing was loud! Everyone knew it was Don’s Ski-Doo but what was Santa doing using Don’s Ski-Doo? What happened to the reindeer? There were some pretty confused kids!
One year Dad played Santa and gave Doug Epp a can of tomato soup! What? How could Santa be so cruel!
One year, Mom went to town to Christmas shop and dear old Dad was left in charge. I am sure he was thrilled! He put the youngest of his brood to work making paper chains. Little did we know he used the lingerie pages from the Sears Christmas catalogue. When Mom came home – well – let’s just say the chains came down in a hurry despite the howls of protest from the younger children who had worked so hard to make them. Odd how Mom did not want to see dozens of pairs of bras and panties plus other unmentionables in her house at Christmas!
But perhaps my best memory was Christmas at the Luka grandparent’s home. In my early years, the house was heated with wood and it had a special warmth to it. There is truly nothing like wood heat!
And the meals! I think we can all agree no one cooks like a grandmother!
But one year something special occurred. Silly as it seems, I was allowed to play the annual Michigan Rummy game with the men. Only Dad, grandpa, uncles and the older brothers were allowed to play. It was for men only. At the insistence of my uncles, who probably got tired of my incessant whining, I was allowed to play. A passage to adulthood!
No matter what your best Christmas memory is, I truly hope your best memory is the one coming this year.
“For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)
“Behold, I bring you news of great joy for all people. Today a Saviour has been born to you.” (Luke :10)
Merry Christmas to all of you!