The Christmas Memories, Part 6

Two things this week have prompted me to remember….something about Christmases past…a feeling really, more than a memory of a toy or an event. Like a dream that just escapes to the edge of recall. You know it is there….you just can’t quite reach it.

The first was a comment by Webutante

Sometimes if we keep still and silent, at this time of the year, the Spirit of Christmas is all around us.

The memory is of sitting with my soon-to-be husband (hiding really — from the traveling band of old ladies who wanted to dispense advice about weddings and marriages and babies and socks and what not) in the sanctuary of his church. We were at the piano; the room was alike a cavern, cold and dark. Only one security light lit an exit. The milky outline of street lights struggled through the stained glass. He was playing, just tinkering like he does. What – I don’t remember. Something eerie and ethereal, something George Winston-ish. I do remember the feelings though – joy, anticipation – it was like we we could reach right out and touch the angels in the room.

The other is Finding Narnia by Et Tu, the blog of a new Christian.

When I was a kid I read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (we didn’t know C.S. Lewis was a Christian, otherwise I probably wouldn’t have read it). I was so enchanted by the idea of these children discovering that a dusty old wardrobe was a secret portal to another realm full of wonder. I wanted so much to experience something like that, to stumble across some other world different from the one in which I lived, a place of great thrills, adventure and mystery. Once or twice when visiting my grandparents I would be looking for something in one of their cluttered old closets, and I would reach back through the clothes…just in case. Though I was never surprised, my heart always sank a little bit when I felt the wall.

Suddenly I was back at Nana’s house. She had an old chest in her bedroom – two big drawers on the bottom and three smaller drawers hidden behind door. What I remember most about the chest is the smell – old wood mixed with old lady pomander. I remember being barely tall enough to open the doors, and then reaching back over the little drawers as far as I could…..hoping my hand would just pop out into the open air. Now that chest sits in my daughter’s room. Every time I open it, I get just a little whiff of “the smell.” That’s all it takes for that memory to overtake me for just a second. And just for a second….I’m a child again, looking for that magical world.

3 Comments

  1. December 16, 2009 at 5:33 pm

    […] series on personal Christmas memories. Here are all the previous installments: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5.1, 6, 7, 8 and 9. Some are sad, some are funny, but they are all very special to […]

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  2. December 22, 2010 at 10:03 am

    […] other Christmas Memories posts, see 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5.1, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 10. Some are sad, some are funny, but they are all very special to […]

    Like

  3. December 21, 2011 at 9:46 pm

    […] other Christmas Memories posts, see 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5.1, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 and 11. Some are sad, some are funny, but they are all very special to me. Share […]

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