Thursday, December 17, 2009

In My Dreams

Frosty the Snowman by Steve Nelson and Jack Robbins

♫ I'll be home for Christmas . . .
If only in my dreams. ♫

I like to visit Childhood at Christmastime. After all, it's my hometown.

All Illustrations by Richard Cowdrey

Snow glittered in the late afternoon sun after a snow storm. I remember making snow angels in the backyard as lacy snowflakes floated from the sky. We waited for Dad to come home from work, playing Fox and Geese and wishing the deep, fluffy powder would hold shape for snowballs. It caught in my eyelashes and melted on my tongue.

I had a red wool coat trimmed with black velveteen edging, and matching wool leggings. Leggings weren't made of spandex, and they weren't form fitting in those days. They were heavy, prickly trousers with suspenders crossed in the back so they wouldn't fall down. I couldn't manipulate my fingers into gloves, so I had mittens on a string running through both sleeves.

Unless the snow was unusually wet, it didn't soak through the mittens, and our mountain powder snow didn't feel quite as cold then as it does now. My hat matched my coat and had a little brim in the front, with itchy earmuffs that tickled where they tied under my chin. Red rubber boots made footprints that my brother's blue rubber boots followed around the yard.

My memory is probably a composite of many winter evenings. I can see the Christmas tree twinkling through the French doors in the living room, and my mother in the kitchen feeding my baby sister in her high chair. It seemed that we played outside for hours, but having raised some kids myself, I know that it takes longer to get on the snowsuits than children can ever last in the cold out-of-doors. I know I'm just dreaming, but Childhood seems filled with laughter. I think that's why I want to go home for Christmas.

Henry B. Eyring said, "What all of us long for in our hearts, at Christmastime and always, is to feel bound together in love with the sweet assurance that it can last forever." Wouldn't that be nice?

He goes on to say, "This is the promise of eternal life, which God has called His greatest gift to all his children. That is made possible by the gifts to us of His Beloved Son: the Savior's birth, Atonement, and Resurrection. It is through the Savior's life and mission that we have the assurance that we can be together in love and live forever in families.

"The feeling of longing for home is born into us. That wonderful dream requires faith, and enduring bravely the trials of mortal life. Then, in the next life, we can be welcomed by our Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son to that home of our dreams."

I hope when my little angels remember Childhood, the snow isn't cold, the lights shine like stars and love floods their hearts. That's how it feels to go home for Christmas.


crissy said...

I always remember the lights sparkling like stars. And now that you mention it, the snow couldn't have been cold, otherwise why would I play in it?!
Love it. Love you.

Diane said...

My Christmas memories are green - with a hope that it might rain to make it more "winter." I grew up in Southern California and the beauty of that was that you could always ride your new bike on Christmas day, and not have to wait for warmer weather. A white Christmas was always a dream, never a reality.

Christie said...

Beautifully written, Omes. Love it.

Amy said...

You have the most beautiful blog ever. I am so glad I stumbled upon it. Thank you, and Merry Christmas.

kenju said...

I have to say beautiful too, just like the others. You are so special.

diane said...

Your card and your grands are beautiful.

I licked the ice on the metal storm door when I was little. I got stuck. Never did that again.

My own kids have never had a white Christmas. However, they can go outside and pick oranges off of our trees on Christmas morning.