Here’s a story of holiday redemption.
When I was a child, the holidays were a fun time. I looked forward to the smell of the tree and trimmings, and loved putting out all the decorations, the lights on the Christmas tree, adding ornaments and tinsel. What a beautiful time of year! Then, while I was still young, my Dad passed away in December. From that time on, I did not enjoy that time of year.
Seven years ago, I met my husband, and began enjoying the Holidays again with him. But shortly after we were married, my husband's Father passed away during this season. The Holidays would never be the same again, we thought.
It took a few years for us to get the holiday spirit back. We are helped a great deal by listening to the wonderful stories on Northwest Public Radio.
Holly Kaczmarski
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Barbara Wilson of Kennewick, Washington shared this holiday postcard.
I always considered it a challenge when my parents told me not to go into their room in the weeks preceding Christmas. My goal was to know what everyone was getting long before the big day. I was usually successful. I knew it was wrong to disobey my parents, but all they needed to say was 'don't look', and I had to begin searching. One Christmas my Grandmother was on the floor under the tree. She showed me how to open a present and then re-wrap it. I was in heaven. Then, one year my grandmother and I were under the tree and we heard the car in the driveway. She couldn’t get back on her feet as she was not a young woman at this time so we were both caught by my parents. I think my Grandmother got in more trouble than I. But we always had a Christmas joke.
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It's never a great time to end a long-term relationship, but just before the holidays is the WORST!! I live up in the mountains outside Cashmere, snowmobiling or hiking to and from home. This was shaping up to be a "savage" Christmas, to say the least. Snowbound, alone, and feeling truly sorry for myself, even the crystal-white beauty all around me went unappreciated, adding to my feeling of isolation. Needing the comfort of music, while dreading the thought of all that holiday music re-enforcing my loneliness, I chose NWPR, as I usually do when times are sad. There's not much chance of hearing 'our song' in the classical genre. To my surprise and joy, the music was non-traditional holiday music, lifting my spirit by the hour!! Your music turned isolation into solitude and angst into serenity. It turned out to be one of the best holidays for me, as I finally realized it's what's inside your heart, not outside yourself that really matters. Thank you so much...SAS PS: Some of my best friends hiked all the way
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While most of us associate this time of year with home, one Northwest Public Radio listener has memories of holidays with an international flair.
My mother used to sing "Cantique de Noel" by the French ballet composer Adolph Adam.
During World War II, with mostly Asian classmates in first and second grade in Waikiki, I remember singing "Silent Night", "Joy to the World" “Love Came Down at Christmas" and "O Little Town of Bethlehem."
My father visited Australia with the U.S. Navy fleet in 1925. For forty years we exchanged Christmas books and presents with a family there named Craig. They had a great deal of interest in natural history, and when I was four they sent a realistic toy koala, an Australia opal, as well as books on the Great Barrier Reef, birds and the aboriginal artist Albert Namatjira.
Anonymous
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It was December of 1973: the month after we moved to Walla Walla. Because of the expense of relocating, our savings were depleted and my monthly income barely met monthly expenses. We could not afford a Christmas tree. So, I cut off the top of a spruce tree in our front yard. Our girls - who were 10 and 12 at the time - had to wear gloves to decorate the tree because of the sharpness of the spruce needles. We strung popcorn. Our oldest daughter made a large star. We gave that star to her on her 40th birthday. The Christmas of 1973 is still our favorite!
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When we were first married, we decided to have a red and white Christmas tree with red and white bulbs and white lights. When our children started school, they began to make Christmas tree ornaments with their school pictures. The first one to come home was by my young son, who proudly hung it on the front of our tree. Since it didn't fit the color scheme, I moved it to the back of the tree after he went to bed. When I came home from work the next day, I found that the picture ornament was again front and center. I decided to leave it there.
We have seven children and they each brought home a couple of ornaments, so my tree is now decorated with bright little faces. I also have one for each of my sons-in-law and, of course, my grandchildren also smile down at me from the front of my tree. I haven't replaced the red and white bulbs that have broken over the years, but the decorations made by little hands are carefully counted and repaired each year.
Robert J. Reynolds
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Musicians anticipate the Christmas Season with some trepidation: it's a seemingly endless string of concerts, gigs and services, all with the added stress of being associated with our culture's most important holiday. My Season usually culminates with a Christmas Eve service that ends around midnight. I get in my car, turn on the radio and immerse myself in the music. The stress melts.
Just wanted you to know that you are often responsible for my "Christmas moment".
Bart Roderick
Selah
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White ice outlining trees and weeds, grass blades, dry leaves freezing fog - day three
Finally, the sun! Filtered in through mist and glass. Gloriously bright. –
Heather Alarcon Milton-Freewater, OR gehm@gohighspeed.com
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Winter snowflakes fall. Soul with nature hibernates. Waiting for the Spring.
Winter greetings from J. Thompson Selah, WA
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When I was young, the blinking lights on the Christmas tree were turned on and off by little thermostats, so the blinking was irregular, almost random. Every year on a night between Christmas and Epiphany, we would sit in the dark room lit only by the Christmas tree lights, just talking about whatever. I remember looking at the pattern of colored lights and evergreen-branch shadows on the ceiling. I miss those thermal blinkers, along with the warm glow of the night-light size bulbs, neither of which are common now.
Maura Zimmerschied Richland
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Christmas means gathering our family from across the U.S. for long nights around the kitchen table playing scrabble. Walking outside and cursing the cold that freezes our nostrils, but then revelling in the warmth of a cozy bed. All to wake up and spend a day with the people I love the most.
Sierra Bayles
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Mary Alderman shared this memorable story about her son Chris’ eighth Christmas
When my son, Chris, was eight he was worried that Santa wouldn't find us, or that Santa wasn't real. So my husband made a huge arrow out of scrap wood and covered it with Christmas lights. He laid it in the snow pointing at the house. Then on Christmas Eve after Chris was asleep we took boots, put them in ashes and walked around the house. We had a motion detector that we covered with a bow and then we put a letter on it "from Santa" that said, "Nice try." My son was so happy that he had proof that Santa found the house and that Santa was "real".
Mary Alderman
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