"Clement Clarke Moore, a religious scholar who for decades was too embarrassed to claim authorship of the 1822 poem, "A Visit From St. Nicholas," "
My wife and I married right outta high school, over 50 years ago now. Our first Christmas was in Biloxi, Miss, with me a skinney airman going to USAF electronix school. Wife had found a broken pine limb she stuck in a pot and set on a small table in our combined living/dining room. She had spent perhaps less than a dollar on hanging balls and made other orniments out of (used) aluminum foil and colored paper/glue, kids craft stuff. No money for presents for either of us but we were together and that counted as all the blessing we needed at that point. I looked up the original "Christmas Story" in Luke and Matthew, read it on the evening of the 24th just before bed time. Have continued reading that ever Christmas eve since that one in 1959.
When our eventual three daughters got big enough to enjoy it, I added "A Visit From St. Nicholas", they enjoyed it. Then Momma would play the piano and we would sing a few of the right songs before the kids went to bed.
Our youngest daughter, her husband and three now virtually grown kids have been spending Christmas eve nights with us for the last several years. The grandkids want that; even at 17, 19 and 21 they still want Papa to read the stories. I like that.
This was likely our last tme as a family group, now that part of our "tradition" will change. The fine 21 year old young man will likely spend next Christmas on a navy ship. He'll have to start his own military based Christmas tradition I guess. Life moves on.
