Readers share memories of Christmas past
Keeping Baby Jesus warm
I remember this Nativity from my childhood. This picture (at right) was taken of me by my mother. I was two years old (1952) at the time and do remember clearly how my mother, Dorothy Ackerman, was very concerned that I not touch anything when she went out on the front porch to take the picture.
A few years later, and for years to come, we would move Baby Jesus back and forth in the stable. Mom would move Baby Jesus to the front of the stable -- so we could see Jesus better. I would move Baby Jesus back into the back of the stable with the cow breathing on Baby Jesus to keep him warm.
Several years ago, Mom gave me the Nativity. It’s under my tree now, and yes, Baby Jesus is warm.
The Nativity, with all its “bumps and bruises,” sits next to the wood-carved Nativity that my husband, Dennis, and I bought in 1969, for our first Christmas, in Germany.
Praying for the boys to come home
One of my most memorable Christmases was back in the 40s.
The war was on, there was rationing, we were praying for our local boys to be safe and come home. The nuns put each service man’s name on a “holy card”.
Each week we prayed especially for the name we drew. None of us wanted anything to happen on our prayer watch! All of the WWII boys from St. Peter’s, Schulte, returned safely!
During that Christmas season I remember we “girl angels” processed to the crib. The angel wearing white (my cousin, Donna) carried and placed the Christ Child in the waiting crib.
Mom made my cousin, Bonnie and me angel dresses out of “rit dyed” sheets with net overlay (material was hard to come by in the 40s). Ours were purple and lavender. The other angels were blue and yellow. Tinsel was used for halos and wings.
Funny, I have no idea what “Santa” brought that Christmas but will always remember that Midnight Mass.
Charlotte (Becker) Ringer
'I knew Santa would find me...'
When I was six we moved from Great Bend to Pueblo, Colorado when my dad was transferred. That was okay by me because my grandmother lived up in the mountains about 50 miles west of there, and I loved her dearly.
The following Christmas in 1960 we went to have Christmas at her house. Even though I loved her so much, I remember being so upset. I thought that Santa wouldn’t leave me any presents if I wasn’t at home. I even thought he might get lost trying to find me way up in the mountains.
That day we all piled into our old station wagon. I was still so upset. The sun was just setting and it was beautiful driving into the mountains that were covered with snow.
It was dark when we arrived, and her little house was all lit up like a Christmas tree. It wasn’t Christmas lights, but just the lights of her house shining through the snow and trees. I’ll never forget how beautiful it was.
Inside she had apple cider heating on a big iron stove, and there was a big tree all decorated in the corner. We sang carols and we each shared something that we were thankful to the baby Jesus for. It was so beautiful. And I knew that Santa would find me in such a wonderful place.