numismatists

My grandchildren were here the other evening and got out the bag of pennies to “feed” our little bank, a wooden lady whose head swivels to drop the coin from her mouth into her body. It is a fun game for them. When they left, we unscrewed the lady’s head to put the pennies back into the bag for their next visit and Eli (here to watch a movie with us) commented that he’d never seen a 2000 penny. Hannah claimed she’d seen several and thus began an evening of discovery into the magical world of numismatics. The movie was forgotten as Eli, Hannah and Isaac spread out all the pennies, sorting them according to year, lining up each year into a column so as to study their dispersion ratios. They had more fun than you can imagine, more than they ever imagined. When all the pennies were laid out on the living room carpet in an orderly array, but they weren’t yet satisfied with their game, I retrieved a handful of pennies from my purse and Hannah found 79 more in her coin dish (she counted them so she could get them back). They discovered there were far more from the year 2007 than any other year. The earliest was from the 40’s (not counting the 1918 penny I have stashed away for safe keeping). A couple of years weren’t represented at all, but Eli was quite happy there were several pennies from 2000. They discussed the statistical implications of their findings; they took pictures of their work, and Eli declared he might just give up his masters work in psychology to sort and order coins full time… we think that was spoken in jest.

less is more

"One cannot collect all the beautiful shells on the beach. One can collect only a few, and they are more beautiful if they are few." Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Merry Christmas!

Family photo from 1994

too busy...

It seems the holiday preparations have made me too busy to write; perhaps you are too busy to read. I hate that feeling, it is a feeling of being out of control. It is about this time each year I decide some of the sewing just won't get done and I wrap up the fabric with a coupon (just this week I sewed a skirt that I gave a coupon and fabric for to my daughter last year). Many years ago a friend shared this quote with me, which I now share with you:

"Let not our hearts be busy inns that have no room for Him."

sneak peek

When I was young I discovered one of my “talents” is the ability to open gifts without damaging the paper/ribbons, etc. This skill came in quite handy during my teenage years when holiday secrets became just too much to handle. I could open a gift for a sneak peek and restore the wrappings to their original condition with no one else the wiser for it. There was one year that I knew what was in every package under the tree. I was very good…

One year I was babysitting while my parents were away for the evening so enlisted my 4-yr. old brother, Jared, in the “fun activity” to pass the time. We talked about how exciting it would be, how to keep it a secret, all those things a criminal stresses to an accomplice. He was in, so I let him choose the first one. We opened only a few, since we expected my parents wouldn’t be gone too long. The gifts were back under the tree looking pristine when my parents got home. I winked and smiled at Jared as a way to remind him not to fold. But he just fell apart. He spilled the beans about the whole thing; my parents could hardly understand him through his sobbing.

Well, the truth was out and oddly, there was no fallout. My parents weren’t upset by what we had done, they figured it was OK with them if I wanted to ruin the surprise for myself… I comforted Jared and asked what had happened. Apparently he couldn’t handle the guilt any more than I could handle the anticipation. I was sorry I’d wounded his tender spirit.

Somehow the experience cured me of the anticipation woes and since then I haven’t had trouble keeping my anticipation in check. I rarely use those skills anymore, unless I forget to take a tag off or include a gift receipt; and then I don’t feel much excitement, I just think to myself, “Oh, bother; I should have used a gift bag.”

silent night

The earliest Christmas I remember was when I was five. We lived in Baltimore where my father was attending school. We lived in a row house on Pimlico Street, near the race track. The bedrooms were upstairs, mine was the one in the middle and had a skylight. How I loved that skylight! It seemed to be a window into the heavens and most nights I counted stars as I drifted into happy dreams. But not on that Christmas eve. I was very sick with an ear infection. Wisps of hair, damp with sweat, curled about my fevered face and if I drifted off to sleep it was only momentarily as pain roused me awake again. I stayed still and quiet so as not to wake the others sleeping in the next rooms. The hours dragged and I wondered if morning would ever come. The skylight was my friend and comfort during those quiet, ‘though not peaceful, hours. I studied the stars more carefully that night and let myself be carried away in my imagination to that “night of nights” when the Baby Jesus was born. Was I looking at His star through my skylight? Which one would it be? Certainly His would stand out; certainly His would be the brightest. It would be special enough for the wise men to notice and know that it was finally time to begin that long-awaited journey of a lifetime. I pondered the glorious multitude of angels whose music was most surely the finest human ears had ever heard. Did I get to hear it; could it be that I was singing with them? I thought of the humble shepherds, bewildered by it all but worthy of that distinct honor of being the first to meet their Savior. Would I be worthy? And then I thought of Mary and Joseph, so carefully chosen for their most important roles. What were they like; was there a special role in His kingdom for me?

Morning came and my fever broke. Although weak, I joined my family to open gifts and managed to eat a little, a rather anticlimactic day to follow the “silent, holy night” I had been privileged to experience. I don’t wish anyone illness during the holiday season, neither would I deny such an experience to you; perhaps there is a way to have one without the other. One silent, sleepless night to enjoy and forever remember the wonder that is our Savior’s birth. He is the reason we celebrate, but more than that, He makes living worth it, giving everything we do purpose and meaning, and making everything we are matter immensely.

part IV

Christmas Eve came. The whole family helped prepare a special supper, not as fancy as their traditional one, but so delicious. They played “name that Christmas tune” while cleaning up the kitchen together. There was barely enough time to read the Christmas story in Luke before phoning Jack. It was SO GOOD to hear his voice. He was happy, they would be baptizing a family of seven tomorrow! His excitement was contagious, “And they are SO golden!” Marcella enjoyed most of all hearing the things each of the children told Jack. They were all so happy to talk to him and share the special things going on in their lives. Jacob told him, “This is the best Christmas ever!” They said their “good-bye”s and “I-love-you”s and then a bit of sadness set in that their visit was over. The twins played some piano duets to cheer things up again and Jacob suggested they drive around to look at the lights, “Let’s go to some
new neighborhoods this year.” They even made a few surprise visits to those they knew would be alone that night. Snow started falling, a thick, fluffy snow that excited Jacob, “Hey, let’s build a huge snowman tomorrow!” At home, each opened the traditional gift of new jammies; no one seemed to care that Marcella hadn’t sewn them herself this year.
Marcella was surprised at what she felt inside. She couldn’t remember a Christmas Eve so, well, peaceful! She couldn’t remember a Christmas Eve that there wasn’t something keeping her busy until the wee hours. She took down the schedule from each door and threw them all away. As she and Jeff crawled into bed she smiled, “It sure was nice to talk with Jack tonight. I miss him so much, but he is doing well, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is, but we always knew he would be a fine missionary, he loves the gospel about as much as you love Christmas. You DO still love Christmas, don’t you?”
Marcy smiled and thought carefully before answering. “Yes, yes I do love Christmas just as much. I think I love it differently, I hope I love it in a better way. Jacob said something tonight, that this was the best Christmas ever. Did you hear that?”
Jeff did hear, and nodded, “Why do you think he said that?”
Tears welled up, “Because it HAS been the best Christmas we’ve ever had. Even though Jack is away and we didn’t even follow the schedule that supposedly guarantees a perfect Christmas, this one has been the best. Do you know why?”
“I think I do, do you?” He hugged her close.
“It has to do with what the angel said to the shepherds about peace and good will. They really do go together, but all these years I had their relationship mixed up. I thought that peace came from good will and that doing good things would bring me the peace of Christmas. I did more and more, I organized it on the schedule, I packed every minute of every day. But I had it all wrong.”
“How so?”
“Peace isn’t just a result, peace is the cause, the cause of true and lasting good will toward men. When I read the visiting teaching message I finally understood it, it was that scripture in John.”
“Which scripture?”
“From John 14 where it says, ‘Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
“And?” he prodded her to continue.
“I finally realized I could never have peace by being organized; the drive to be organized and make things ‘work’ was only troubling my heart. I was trying to do things the world’s way and it was crowding out the only true source of peace, the Savior. I’ve had to change my whole way of thinking. I’ve had to let peace, His peace, enter my heart. Instead of sticking to the schedule, I have let Christ guide me through the season this year.”
Jeff broke in, “He did a very good job; I hope you’ll let Him do it again next year!”
“I think I’ve learned my lesson. But I feel as though I have wasted the past twenty years. I’ve cheated everybody. I’ve even promoted those false notions of a ‘perfect Christmas’ to the sisters in Relief Society!”
Jeff laughed, “Don’t forget what happened at the ward party! They’re catching on, just like you did, and you helped them do it! Next summer you can teach a mini-class called ‘Having Peace During the Holidays’ or ‘A Christ-centered Christmas’, you’ll be a big hit, especially among the husbands; I know for a fact it has made a big difference to them this year.” Jeff got serious, “Our Christmases have always been ‘perfect’ but this year has been truly wonderful, peaceful! I love you!”
Marcy melted, “I love you, too. This really has been the best Christmas ever. And we have one glorious day left to enjoy. Tomorrow after we open gifts and build our snowman, let’s all go sledding on Bird Hill!”