Have you ever wondered why Christmas memories so often hold such a powerful place in our hearts? Joyful memories of Christmas seem even more joyful, and sad memories are even more painful. What is it that makes Christmas a threshold that defines so much of our year?

When Laura Ingalls Wilder recorded her husband Almanzo’s memories of one special Christmas, one of the first things she records is his memory that he had, “tried to be good for so long that he could hardly stand the strain.”¹ Good boys received gifts, but bad boys received switches in their stockings—and he certainly didn’t want that!

Christmas Eve had been filled with hard work—cleaning, polishing, cooking, and preparing. It was all because company was coming, and everything must be its very best for this special day. Even though there were things he wished he could be doing, he tried to do his chores cheerfully, remembering the switch that could be in his stocking the next morning if he didn’t.

Night fell, and everyone went to bed, but they didn’t stay there long. Before the sun was up, the children were, calling “Merry Christmas” and diving into stockings that were bulging with gifts. Almanzo was sure his gifts were the best of all—especially the store-bought cap with earmuffs and the jackknife with four blades! Never had he expected such beautiful gifts!

Then—a moment of fear descended. Father called from his darkened bedroom, “Look at the clock.”²

They obeyed. It was 3:30 a.m.; they did not normally rise until 5:00 a.m. The clock marked the passing of a few more seconds and then Father chuckled.

Relieved, the children resumed their happy celebration. Too soon, though, it was time to put presents aside and get to work. Company would be arriving soon. They cooked and cleaned and got dressed up—and then, company arrived.

Showing the cousins his gifts, a fight with Cousin Fred, a seemingly endless wait for Christmas dinner, and a snowball battle wrapped up Almanzo’s day until all the family went home again. Christmas had ended.

What about our own memories? What Christmas memories do you treasure decades later? Perhaps it was trying not to peek at the presents that were waiting to be opened. Maybe it was the endless waiting until you were finally allowed to. Could it be the memory of unwrapping the most special gift—or waiting for someone to unwrap the one you gave them?

And what is it that gives Christmas memories such a permanent place in our hearts? I think it is because the first Christmas so beautifully encapsulates the elements of our lives. Take a look at the similarities Almanzo’s memories share with the events of the first Christmas as recorded in Luke 2:1-20.

For all of human history, mankind had tried to be good. Mary and Joseph were no exception. They, as their parents before, had tried to live a life pleasing to God. Joseph was, “of the house and lineage of David,” (v. 4) a royal line from which God had called kings and shepherds to lead His people. But as anyone who strives for perfection will admit, it is an endless struggle. Like Almanzo, we can try to be good for so long that we can hardly stand the strain, but only a few moments of honesty with ourselves will reveal ways we have failed.

The arrival of Christmas for both Almanzo and Mary and Joseph came with hard work. Almanzo had chores to do. Mary had to make a road trip while nine months pregnant—then give birth in a borrowed room. But the arrival was not without excitement! Almanzo could hardly wait to see what Christmas morning had brought. The shepherds who heard the news of baby Jesus’ arrival, “came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.” (v. 16)

Almanzo had never imagined he would be blessed by such incredible gifts—and he made sure everyone knew about them. The shepherds had a similar reaction. “And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.” (v. 17) I can’t help but think they told everyone they could—cousins, aunts, uncles, neighboring shepherds, and complete strangers!

But Christmas for both Almanzo and the shepherds held a moment of fear. For Almanzo, it was the sound of his father’s voice and the knowledge that they had awakened him far earlier than normal. For the shepherds, it came when they first heard the Heavenly Father’s announcement that He delivered through His angels.

“And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.” (v. 9)

But the moment of fear was followed by good news. “And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.” (v. 10-11)

The Father had smiled. He wasn’t angry; He was relishing in the joy of the gift He had given, the gift that marked the threshold of history. The Savior had been born. All of mankind’s strivings to be perfect and failing had come to an end. Jesus would bridge the gap between imperfect man and the perfect, holy God.

I pray that this Christmas, and every day that follows, your joy of receiving God’s most precious gift never ends.

Endnotes:

1. Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder. A Harper Trophy Book, Harper & Row Publishers, 1971.
2. Ibid.