Christmas 2011
My mother Stella, tucked her fifty dollar bill in her eyeglasses case for safe keeping. She made the two-mile trek downtown, on foot, with her two youngest children in tow, to do her Christmas shopping. My little sister Angie, sat safely in the stroller and I, just six years of age, grasped the stroller tightly for fear of getting lost. Mary, the oldest, was undoubtedly back home tending to my other older sisters, Irene and Nicki.
Fifty dollars would not go far in today's economy or perhaps even by most families standards in the late fifties, but it was all my mother had been able to tuck away, and, knowing Mom, she made great sacrifices to our budget to make this happen. The salary of an immigrant Merchant Marine was not abundant, but Mom and Dad found a way to keep us all clothed and well fed while providing a humble roof over our heads. Although we never had the privilege of owning a car, or experiencing what many refer to as "The American Dream"--a home of our own--we always knew that our family being together was what made our house a home. We always looked forward to those days when Dad was with us again, albeit a short visit.
I can only imagine the devastation and horror that my mother must have experienced when, while at Woolworth's five-and-dime, she discovered that her eyeglasses case was missing. She immediately made a diagonal dash at the light (which was customary practice downtown), back to Sav-on Drugs store to search for her Christmas money. It was never found. I don't know the rest of the story, but I never knew of a Christmas where we didn't seem to have an abundance under our tree (at least by our humble standards).
Year after year, on Christmas Eve, without her dear companion, John, by her side; our mother worked hard and seemingly (to us) tirelessly as she wrapped the presents, baked kourambiedes (Greek cookies), and made the necessary preparations for our Christmas dinner, all while her five daughters slept restlessly in their rooms. Exhausted, Mom would finally climb into bed in the early hours of the morning only in time to hear the children calling out from their bedrooms, "Mom, can we open presents now?" Putting us off as long as she could, she would finally realize that it was pointless to try to get some sleep.
Five darling dark-haired daughters, all cuddled together with their brown eyes closed and faces buried in each other, walked in a bundle of excitement toward the direction of the living room, waiting for that magical moment when we were finally allowed to open our eyes and see that first glimpse of the colorfully wrapped packages sprawled out on the floor beneath the well-lit tree. Then one, two, three, "Open your eyes!" and the squeals and joy began.
Years later, the circle of life was repeated as Paul and I, through the years, have watched the joy in the faces of first, his daughters and then our own sons, each Christmas morning. Our own family experience brought an added dimension of understanding the traditions of other countries as we celebrated "Christmas Around the World": creating themes for such places as Mexico, France, Hawaii, Italy, Hungary, Czechoslovakia (in honor of our son-in-law Jiri), of course Greece, and even a Rocky Mountain Christmas. Not soon to be forgotten, we also baked that year’s honored country's favorite cake for dessert, and sang happy birthday to Jesus!
As we have gone through many of life's challenges, I have become increasingly more aware of the significance of this time of year and my heart has turned from the enjoyment of the traditional gift giving to an awareness and understanding of the greatest gift that we have been given by a tender, loving Father in Heaven.
Intermingled with the gift of the Son and the Plan of Salvation, our Heavenly Father has blessed us with families. I have been so fortunate to have a mother who, by example, showed us the worth of sacrifice and serving others and expressing often, especially in her later years, her love for the Lord. I am grateful for a father who always showed love and concern for his wife, daughters, and even his family that he left behind in Greece, never to be able to see them again as he was never to return to his homeland. What examples of sacrifice and love for their family they were to us all.
Now, Paul and I find ourselves entering the world of "empty nesters" as Peter enters adulthood, attends college, and begins preparations for his mission for the Church. Although I personally never seem to be lacking of things to do, I find myself yearning for the years of raising little ones, homeschooling, nights watching with pride my sons at the dojo; and later, as teenagers, all four of us laying in our bed watching reruns of "Everybody Loves Raymond". Then the blessings (and concerns) that come from being parents are multiplied, upon the arrival of those angelic grandchildren. Thus the phrase that I coined earlier this year, "God understood the sadness of a mother's heart and just in time, created grandchildren."
I am reminded also of a poignant moment in time for my sisters and me, during my mother's 70th birthday celebration just six short years before her passing. There were so many great and wonderful tributes by her five daughters, son-in-laws and grandchildren, but the one moment that truly touched my heart was when my sister Nicki shared tributes from her children as she read aloud their most tender memories of their Yia Yia. Through tears and great emotion in her voice, Nicki then said, "This is my gift to you, Mom -- my children."
Now Mom, your trials and your sacrifices are not only being acknowledged by your daughters, but as mothers ourselves, have also been experienced firsthand in many ways in our own lives. Dad, we now understand that your desire to be home with your family was the ultimate sacrifice you gave us as your only way to provide life's necessities. We love you both, and we show that love as we go forward as we love and pray for our own children and grandchildren with the same dedication to them and the desires of our hearts for their lives to be blessed, as you had for us.
Through all the ribbons and the wrappings, the time and the resources spent, we remember not the individual gifts as much as we remember the memories, the warmth and the love that only a family can bring. I am grateful for this greatest gift that God has given us, by sharing His only begotten son so that we may be blessed with eternal life. Our experiences as a family, while here on the earth, are only a glimpse into the joy we will have as we become eternal families. In a similar expression that was spoken to Mom by my sister Nicki, I can imagine our loving Father in Heaven's desire to express His great love for us, by saying, "This is my gift to you, my child -- my son!"
Wishing you a very Merry Christmas filled with the joy of family, the warmth of the Savior's love, and peace that only the Gospel brings....
