Anyone who knows me well, knows my favorite holiday is Christmas Eve. Every year I look forward to Redeemer United Methodist Church Candlelight Service with anticipation. I invite everyone to come and join us at 7 p.m.

There are no words to express my feelings of love and joy in being surrounded by people I care most about: my family, church family, friends and even folks I don’t know. I love the Nativity scene above the sanctuary door, decorations of angels reminding us of the birth of the Christ child and what his coming means to the world, a beautiful tree trimmed with loving hands, and the glorious music. I sing carols heartily and give myself to the moment. Whether I make “a joyful noise unto the Lord” I know not, but He appreciates my efforts, of that I’m certain.

I know there are people who say it is all pagan ritual, but I don’t see it that way. We could decorate “The Child’s” birthday with nothing, and of course, be severe in all we do. The world does not agree on the real date – we don’t know the actual – so one could pick any time of year to celebrate. To me, the important thing is the entire world of Christians celebrates together within a few days of one another, according to time and place. That is a miracle in is self. If you are Jewish, or perhaps of some other belief, you have your own wonderful celebrations. No matter what, it’s a great time for families to come together to worship, or not, in their own way.

OK, so Santa gets picked on by some, too. Myself, I’ve been pretty fond of the jolly old fellow since I was a kid, even if I didn’t get that tricycle I hoped for Christmas 1936. I loved the one the Japanese boy had, whose dad owned a grocery store mid-block. Every once in awhile when it was left outside the store, I took a little jaunt down the way with it. I’d be scolded and turn around and do it again. (Well, I never said I was a perfect child.)

One year, at age 12, my Christmas didn’t turn out too cool. Mom bought me a pretty white rayon blouse and a navy-blue skirt, and dad a pretty second-hand watch and small manicure set … I was thrilled with the grown-up gifts.

That next evening, I went roller-skating at Ridge Rink wearing my gifts, and a little too proud I figured later. First off, I went to show my new watch to best friend, Shirley Manny, only to find the crystal had fallen out and was nowhere to be seen. The evening ruined, I went home bawling my head off.

I got home to find ice cream on my beautiful new blouse and put it in the sink to hand wash and found the red initial bleeding all over the white. I howled again and mom had to settle me down. I decided to do my nails with my new nail kit. You guessed it. I spilled nail polish on my skirt. Just a few drops but it showed against the dark blue. By then I gave up and went to bed and cried some more.

Bless mom, the next day she set about helping me solve my problems. She soaked my blouse in Clorox water turning my initial an ugly pink, let it dry and then embroidered over it with red thread. You could hardly notice the rather pink hue surrounding it. Dad took my watch to the jewelry store and had a new glass put in it and mom sewed a tiny design over the nail polish drops. (Mom always told me “there’s a solution to every problem. You just have to pray and figure it out.”)

And so it seems from that day to this it has become my formula for life.

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a better New Year to come. From my house to yours!