By Guinn Sweet | sweettalk@mineralwellsindex.com

“Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock. ‘Now they are all on their knees.’ An elder said as we sat in a flock, by the embers in hearthside ease.” Penned Thomas Hardy on a Christmas Eve in the late 19th Century England.

Colon and I spent our 66th Christmas Eve together in a small town in Southeast Texas. We, too, are “on our knees” in a manner of speaking. At least, our hearts would like for us to be on our knees, although our knees prevent it being a fact.

As it happens in every Christian heart at this time of year, we are drawn to that lowly stable in Bethlehem, where lay the Child who would become man in order to make the greatest sacrifice that God can give; His life in payment for our debt of a sinful nature. In remembering some of those past Christmases, always at the forefront of our thoughts was the awesome fact that we had been spared from an eternal death from the very wombs of our mothers, and all we had to do was to believe, confess and accept that magnificent gift of an eternity in Heaven, rejoicing in the presence of our Lord and our loved ones who had followed the Christ and had led us to do the same.

This Christmas will be no different from those in the past except, of course, the ones who mean the most to us and with whom we will spend this blessed season for the next several days, our family members.

Memory goes back to the “good old days” of the early 1930s, when there were few gifts to be found, no Christmas tree, no decorations, no fancy-wrapped gifts. I remember that we felt greatly blessed on that first Christmas in a new home on the Eastern New Mexico prairie. The source of those blessings were our neighbors, who brought us large packages of food, including home-killed beef and pork, dried pinto beans, canned corn, bags of corn meal and flour and some sugar. We felt that we had moved to the most generous part of the world!

My Aunt Nona came from Fort Worth to spend the week with us, bringing a sling-shot and a play gun and holster for my brother and a doll for me! I was sorely disappointed that I got only a doll, until my aunt suggested that I turn her over and pat her back … at which time a miracle happened! My doll cried, “MOMMA”!!!

I had never heard a doll speak before and I was awed. Later a few years, my doll would wet her diaper and need to be changed, but for that first Christmas in New Mexico, the speaking miracle was enough! To ease my hidden jealousy over the gun and holster, my Granddaddy made me a gun that shot rubber bands cut off of old innertubes.

This year my gift is a greatly improved one … we are getting ourselves a brand new bed to share.

As time passed, I grew a little more sophisticated in my gifts, until that magic moment when the pinnacle of gifts was offered to me in Clovis, N.M. There was a basketball tournament scheduled for the weekend before Christmas, Colon was home from California (and the Navy). He picked me up to go to the “tourney,” but took me to a jewelry store on Main Street, and had me pick out my Christmas gift.

I wanted a watch, but he wanted to show me some rings, and when we looked at them, he told me to pick one for myself. I did so, reluctantly, until he placed it on my third finger, left hand and asked me to wear it until he got back from the war, and we would get married. I agreed, but I was embarrassed to let anyone see it at the basketball games.

That Christmas of 1943 was the last one we spent together until two years later when he returned from the South Pacific. We married in August 1945, while he was on furlough. That Dec. 25 started the string of Christmases together until now. How long can we last?

This Christmas is being spent with our daughter and her family, her two sisters and their daughters; and I am taking my “famous” candied yams to supplement the meal which they will prepare. The morning will be spent at church services at Calvary Baptist Church in Fairfield, from 10:30-11:30 a.m. You are all welcome to attend with us … we’ll save you a seat! There is no better way to celebrate the “birth” of Jesus than to spend it in His house. There is no more respect nor gratitude that we can express to Him than to worship Him in His gathering place and in His presence. Of all the Christmases that have preceded, none has been greater nor more blessed than this one. I hope to be able to continue this worship of the Almighty Lord for many more years … until He returns for me, or “calls the whole thing off.”

My wish for each of you is that your Christmas season will be as blessed and joyous as has been those of mine and Colon’s. We love you and think of you often.