There’s a lot to be said about Christmas in big cities. They have magnificent Christmas trees like the one in Rockefeller Center in New York City. Their big city lights must cost millions of dollars to light up their section of the world. And what about places like Santa Claus, Indiana; or North Pole, Alaska? I can only imagine these cities where Christmas is celebrated year-round.
This year I’ve paid a little more attention to the simple things about Christmas. The small town where I live is all about getting people out of their homes and into the community. They start Christmas with local businesses staying open late and homemade craft vendors selling their goods. Babies are traumatized as they come face to face with the bearded man dressed in red for the very first time!
A few weeks later, there is a parade where homegrown kids bang their drums and toot their horns while proud parents and grandparents stand on the parade route to catch a glimpse. Pick-up trucks and 18-wheelers are adorned with garland and lights donning the cabs. They are decorated by locals who put everything into taking home the winning prize – even though they don’t know, or even care, what that prize is. Knowing they have done their best is good enough. And the highlight for parade goers is catching candy or even a roll of paper towels thrown out by the folks from the local paper mill.
As we gathered outside the Escambia County Court House that night, I had a sense of pride and acceptance. This was my town, just like it was everyone’s town that came out that night. There is pride in big cities, but small-town folks are the heart and soul of our country.
I grew up here in this small town, but life took me to faraway places and many Christmases were spent in distant cities with very different traditions. I remember the Christmas we spent in Costa Rica missing our family, but surrounded by other missionaries who truly felt like family. Or what about that hot Christmas in Panamá when we ate seafood instead of turkey and dressing? Christmas in Bogotá, Colombia was full of wonder as the city was decorated beyond anything I could imagine.
This Christmas I took a step back from some of the things that are expected as I embraced the things I love about this season. I didn’t get uptight about sending out 500 Christmas cards, hosting the perfect parties, or selecting an expensive gift for everyone on my list. Instead, I read through the account of Jesus’ birth and life from the book of Luke and reflected on the true meaning of CHRISTmas.
As I have spent time with family and friends, I have listened closer and loved deeper. I have thanked the Lord for each person He has brought into my life and have tried to see them through His eyes. With Christmas falling on Sunday this year, it was wonderful to start out the day worshipping our Savior with all of our family on the same pew
After church, we loaded up in our 2003 Ford Excursion, lovingly called “Big Bertha”! We made our traditional Christmas Day trek to Waffle House where we were served with smiles and genuine care by those willing to give up the holiday with their own families.
This Christmas I have soaked in the sights and sounds of my sweet little hometown. I enjoyed the luminaries on the city streets and the lights in the park, the parade with Santa Claus riding on a fire truck, Christmas caroling to the elderly and singing my heart out even though I can’t carry a tune, watching the glimmer in the eyes of the children with dreams of a white Christmas that’s not likely in South Alabama, the heartfelt sermons that my dear husband pours out in a hope that people will grasp the life-changing message of Christmas.
…And I’m reminded that life matters, our Savior matters, and our hope in Him makes this Christmas a little sweeter.
Sampling the wonder of Christmas in a small town… don’t miss the blessing!