Three spirits visited Scrooge on what would
be, for him, a life-changing Christmas Eve. They were the ghosts of the Past,
Present, and Future.
As we find ourselves in the midst of another
Christmas, with all of the anticipation and excitement it brings—or should
bring—I doubt many of us will spend much time wondering what future holidays
might hold in store for us. Nor will many of us expend much effort taking
measure of whether currents actions and attitudes might adversely impact our
coming tomorrows. Such contemplation, if undertaken at all, seems better suited
for another day.
More likely, it is Christmas ‘Past’ that
our thoughts will turn to: memories of what once was. The trimmings of heart
and mind. The customs, traditions, and expectations from bygone years.
I have no specific
recollection of the Christmas season of 1966—now 50 years in my past. No
milestone event occurred that still illuminates my personal memory.
I would have been 15, a sophomore in high
school. My father and mother were both 37, sister Carol was 14, and brother
Craig 11. I had played on the junior varsity football team that fall. I do
retain a few vivid memories of that experience. I don’t recall that I had a
steady girl friend on that particular holiday; however, I’m pretty sure there was
probably a young lady around who I secretly wished would fill that role. I do
remember that romantic possibilities occupied a lot of my thoughts at that age.
Chores and milking cows—the daily necessities
of life on a dairy farm—would have occupied much of my pre-school mornings and
post-school afternoons. The holiday vacation, starting a few days before
Christmas, would have been eagerly awaited, giving us scholars at Fowlerville
High a respite from our studies and homework.
Watching favorite TV shows, listening to
popular songs on the radio, going to town with my mother or father for some
reason or other, attending church services, various family activities, and
hanging out with my friends would have been part of the routine that existed
during that long-ago year.
On the day of Christmas Eve we would have
probably stopped to visit with my great-grandparents and that evening we would
have attended the candlelight services at the Methodist Church in town.
The next day, on Christmas morning, we’d
have opened our presents after the cows had been taken care of and after
breakfast was finished. Those gifts would have been located under a decorated
treethat stood in front of the large picture window in the family room. Later, we
would spend the afternoon at my grandparents’ home for the gathering of our
extended family—the holiday feast, the long wait as the dishes were washed and
put away, and then more presents to open.
That year our Christmas ‘Present’ blended
seamlessly with our recent Christmas ‘Pasts’.
But the future lying just ahead of us would
drastically change that situation. My father would be in and out of the hospital the following year and in November, less than
a year later, would die from heart failure. The Christmas of 1967 was one of
grief and loss. Our family of five was now four. A year later we would move off
the farm and that chapter of our lives was over. A new set of tomorrows awaited
each of us. A new lifestyle and new routines would evolve. Adjustments made.
AS I THINK
AGAIN OF THOSE LONG-AGO MOMENTS, I’m
well aware that, while this was a life-altering change of circumstances for us,
other people, other families, have experienced similar scenarios—many of them
much worst. There is indeed nothing new under the sun.
We have much in common with others, a shared
humanity, ties that bind us. In life and living, we are more alike than
different.
Our days are generally filled with the
reoccurring tasks of work and the activities of leisure, of time spent with
loved ones and friends, interrupted by special occasions that bring us
happiness and satisfaction and, alas, other times that cause us grief and
remorse.
Our past—the events that occurred and how we
remember them—have, of course, brought us to this present. How we proceed, and
perhaps just as important, the attitude and approach we embrace as we face our
future, will help in part to determine the outcome.
True, events outside our province and
beyond our control do occur and have their repercussions—for good or ill. We
know all too well that stuff happens, changing the trajectory of our life from
where it seemed headed and what we had envisioned, to an unforeseen direction.
Still, personal choice remains and has its consequences—also for good or ill.
The Christmas Season seems an appropriate
time to pause and take stock—recalling our past, judging our present, and
anticipating(as best we can) what lies up ahead.
The spirits of the Past, Present, and
Future, the lessons that Scrooge learned from their visitation, offered him a
second chance; an offer of redemption that he embraced.
The message of second chances and of redemption—for
mankind and for each of us—is inherent in another, older Christmas Story; one
involving a birth in a manger.
It informs us that in the pervasive darkness
of night, when allmight seem lost or unknowable, when fear stirs from within
and dangers appear all about, when we see only enemies rather than the ties
that bind us, a star is seen glowing in the heavens—a light that beacons us
forward, guiding our path of hope, shining the way to salvation.
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