Precious Moments

 

Standing in the aisle of the local grocery store, I looked up to see Eva holding Charlotte’s hand and, very matter-of-factly, heading straight for me. “What are y’all doing?” I questioned. “I told you to wait in the truck;, I would only be a second.” Eva started in, “We needed to use the restroom, and we couldn’t wait.” Crossing the parking lot, I posed the question, “Eva, when you got out of the truck, did you lock the door?” “Yes, Ma’am,” she said proudly. Standing there with sacks of groceries in my hands, I explained, “Well, now we are locked out.”

Charlotte grabbed the pew in front of her and leaned as far over as she could, “Pssst, Asa. “We have all the presents at our house!”

I had the best idea, real pines from the woods to decorate the corners of the house. They would glitter with Christmas charm! Pleased with my novel idea, I placed the pines down in milk cartons with rock bottoms to keep them weighted, and wrapped fabric around the base for beauty. I got a call from Chuck while I was out, “Your pine trees have fallen, and I am cleaning up water all over the kitchen.”

This year, we decided to try a Cedar tree from the Christmas tree farm. How beautiful were its whimsical branches. While Chuck positioned the tree in the piano room, I noticed it seemed much smaller out among the other Cedars on the farm. Now, it was draping over the piano and scraping the ceiling. It encompassed the entire room.

“Mom. I have to tell you something,” Charlotte whispered. “Ok, go ahead,” I sympathized. “When I get in trouble, it makes my love heart break.” “Oh, Charlotte. It makes my love heart break too.” I said with a hug. Not realizing what the next few hours would entail.

I turned around with a dripping wet dishrag in my hands. There it was. The seven-foot Cedar Christmas tree was lying between the piano and the playroom; As big around as it was tall, and now it was lying in a heap on the floor. Crouched behind it sat Eva, staring at me with her eyes as big as saucers.

I would like to tell you I responded as a seasoned saint in the Lord should, but the flesh is never far from the surface. Having sent the kids away, I stood there alone. Chuck wasn’t home from work yet, and my mind was racing with how to respond.

Standing beside the heap of a tree, I cried, “The Precious Moment ornaments are shattered, Dad! Thirty-two years of safekeeping, and they are shattered.”

Mom was a teacher’s aide and the ticket lunch lady at Washington Elementary School. She took the job to help with the home budget when my sister and I started to school. Purchasing the ornaments through a magazine sale at the school, I can remember her coming home with these Precious Moment ornaments. She took them out of the box one by one, and hung them on the tree. Each one representing its own Christmas snow scene of innocence. How pretty they glistened with the Christmas lights behind them.

My mother gave the four ornaments to me when I was grown. “Decorate your tree with them each year,” she said. After Chuck and I married, I would pull them out from their raggedy box and smile as I looked at the delicate glass ball that encased the porcelain figurine. Now, here they were, broken, and the glass balls were shattered.

“I am so mad!”  “Hold on now, before you respond wrong,” he said. “This is a special season for kids, full of excitement and wonder. Before you lash out, wait.” He could hear the pain in my tears. “Let her see your tears,” he said.

I hung up the phone and called Eva into the living room. She sat down, her eyes red from crying. I reached for the salt-dough hand prints, “This is your handprint you made when you were five years old. You see the cap-and-mitten ornament? It was mine. I made it in first grade. The one next to it here is the one you and I made each night leading up to Christmas five years ago. This one right here is from our trip to the Smoky Mountains. I had it special-ordered with all of our names engraved and the year to remember. The Crimson bulb was given to us when your daddy and I first got married. These carolers are from my Grandaddy’s tree before he died, and this wooden angel holds pieces of fabric from your daddy’s grandmother. This is the sand from the beach where Charlotte, Tyson, and you enjoyed collecting shells down by the bay. Here is Charlotte’s reindeer craft and your half-eaten gingerbread man. There is Tyson’s preemie hat he wore after he was born.” Her tears were proof she understood.

Chuck came home and saw me crying. He whispered, “Let’s go put the tree back up.” We returned the tree to its stand and gathered all the pieces lying on the carpet. As he hugged me, I cried, “My money was on Charlotte and Tyson. It was never on Eva knocking over the tree.” That’s when I saw it. One Precious Moment ornament was still dangling from the tree. I went to closer investigate. Its bulb was cracked and had a small piece of glass missing on one side, but was otherwise still completely intact.

Eva was helping me clean all the glass and broken ornaments from the carpet. I stopped and grabbed her. “Eva. You need to know something.” Holding her face, I shared, “There are more precious moments than the ones that hang on a tree. This is one of them. Forgive me for valuing the ornaments more than the people. I love you so very much.”

My father asked me later how the evening turned out.? I told him better than I could have planned. The Lord mended where I failed. For it is in our weakness that He becomes strong. My father encouraged me, “It’s who we are in our toughest moments that reveal our character. I have failed miserably many times, but I have always appreciated those who give me sound counsel and advice. Eva saw more of your character than she did of your flaws. It will stick with her for the rest of her life. Joy is born where tears are shared.”

Reflect upon your present blessings of which every man has many, not on your past misfortunes of which all men have some.

Charles Dickens

The day we stood in the parking lot of the local grocery store, locked out of our vehicle, I decided to walk the kids up to the square. It was just up the hill. Our friend owned a local baby boutique.

We walked inside, and there he stood in his shiny black leather boots. A pristine velvet suit and vest with gold buttons lining the center; his hat was edged in soft white cotton. Beautiful gold spectacles rested on his nose, protected by his white beard. A backdrop of a gingerbread house and a colorful, twinkling bulbed tree highlighted Santa Claus for all the children to see.

Charlotte looked up at me and then back at Santa Claus. He reached for her hand and walked her over to his chair; scooped her into his lap, and began to share about his reindeer, sleigh, and her Christmas wish. I leaned over to my friend and said, “I’m kinda glad we got locked out.”

“Mom,” Charlotte voiced. Do you know how I know he was the real Santa Claus?” “How?” I asked. “Because he didn’t have a pull-off beard.” Sitting in the middle of a child’s fantasy world, I was reminded that inconveniences can be met with splendor.

It doesn’t matter how the holidays bustle; nothing is better than friends gracing your home at Christmastime.”

Susan Bamberg

After the tree crashed, the next morning, I was reading over Eva’s shoulder. I saw her type, “I made the Christmas tree fall over, but Mom cared more about me than the ornaments.” My heart warmed to the truth. In all of my mistakes, my children know they matter most.

The next week, I was cooking supper when Chuck walked into the kitchen with a rather large box. He sat it down with Eva smiling next to him. “These are for you.” He said in his stoic persona. As I opened the box and unwrapped the carefully packaged items, I was met with one Precious Moment collectible ornament after another. Some date back as far as 1987. Tears stung my eyes as we continued to unwrap each one. The kids each claimed which ornaments would be theirs when they “got big.”

Although I told Chuck his delivery needed a little work, I hugged him deeply and laughed at how God always has the best way of putting our “love heart” back together again. He keeps the pieces and builds upon them.

The Precious Moments now adorn a small tree in my bedroom, with the original, broken ornaments sitting on my bookshelf beside it. The one still hangs on the Christmas tree in the piano room. One day, I will give it to Eva and remind her of a Christmastime when I learned that not all precious moments hang on a tree.

The generous soul will be made rich, and he who waters will also be watered himself. Proverbs 11:25