Christmas!

Christmas- The very word evokes memories for all of us. For me, it was Christmas shopping trips to Wausau. Not the shopping itself, but the getting there. Wausau is about 40 miles from Tomahawk so to pass the time, we sang. Beginning around Thanksgiving, we switched to the Christmas favorites, carols we had learned in church to the fun songs we learned in school and other places. It was a family affair, we all sang, some more off key than others, but happy memories. Who could forget our "fractured" version of Santa Is Coming to Town?

You better watch out,
You better cry
You better pout,
I'm telling you why.
Santa Claus ain't coming to town.

He's made a list, checked it twice
He found out you were naughty, not nice,
Santa Claus ain't coming to town.

He saw you when you were sleeping,
He knows when you were awake,
He knows that you've been bad not good
So for this year it's too late.

You better watch out,
You better cry
You better pout,
I'm telling you why.
Santa Claus ain't coming to town.

Other favorites of the time: I want a Hippopotamus for Christmas; Are my ears on straight? Up on the housetop, O Christmas tree.

Our tree was always a balsam, it came in the house the day after my sister's birthday. Dad would work hard to get the lights "just so", It was then our job to unscrew the bulbs and put the colored  metal reflectors on. Ornaments were hung with care, making sure not too many in one place, but the tinsel seemed like it took forever to get the just right look. Soon colorful packages would start appearing under the tree to add more mystery. We would be admonished to leave them alone but it didn't stop us from shaking them and trying to guess.

Mom would start her Christmas baking, many varieties of cookies and candies. We kids would "help" and most times would just make more work for her with our sloppy decorating techniques.  Still, year after year she included us in this ritual. It seemed we ate them as fast as she made them.

Sunday School had switched to Christmas mode, with the lines distributed and the program scheduled. Everyone had a part, no matter how small they were. Parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles were in the pews, as the program was performed. The story of the Christ Child born in a manger.

Christmas Eve would find us feasting on Lutefisk and potato sausage before heading to a late candlelit service. Very traditional, year after year, it brings comfort to know the story hasn't changed after all these years. Jesus was born to save us all from sin.