The time of year has come again to bring cheer to others. This is my favorite time of year. Hailing from MN, I’m used to snow and cold, so to see green grass and people walking in shorts sort of throws me for a loop. However, a quick walk through the neighborhood reminds of the season. I don’t see as many lights as I did growing up, but to see people having some lights up reassures my faith in humanity.
I remember a child we would take short drives through my hometown in MN and almost every house would be lite up. Some more then others, but it seemed like every home made an effort. My favorite was a particular street in town that every house would compete against each other it seemed. The road was not long, and as I recall, it was a cul-de-sac with maybe 20 homes. At times there would be a line of cars just to drive down the street to see the lights. To look at the lights against the white snow was something magical.
For as long as I can remember, Christmas eve with my dad family was a tradition. Church first. After to church, we would take the short drive through town to my grandparents home. For several years I can recall my dad having me bring my trumpet to play a few Christmas songs for the family. Later on, I had a cousin that would do the same on the piano. After a brief social gathering with the family, we would sit for a ‘traditional’ Scandinavian’ meal. Swedish meatballs, pickled herring, tearing cake is what I remember most. Growing up there was only four of us grandchildren, so we always had the kitchen table for dinner, while the adults sat in the large dining room.
To be continued…