The Gift

Many memories come to mind
as I reflect on the years that have flown by
and on Christmases past.

I remember the little artificial tree
that sat on the buffet next to my bed in the dining room.
I’d fight to stay awake at night to gaze at that tree
and pretend what it would be like
if Daddy believed in Jesus and celebrated Christmas with us.
Maybe then he would let me have a real tree.

I stopped believing in Santa Claus
the year my stocking was filled with coal.
Later that day Daddy gave me two walking dolls.
“You don’t deserve them,” he said
“but I worked hard to get them.”
I hated those dolls.

Memories are powerful.
They can cause us to live in the past and miss the present.
They can even destroy our hope for the future.
But the One whose birth we celebrate on Christmas
came to save us from bondage to a painful past.
He has set me free!