
Christmas time was extra special.
First, there was a candlelight service on Christmas Eve at
the church. My big family would pack
into cars and trucks (a bus couldn’t hold us all) and head to First Baptist
Church. Grandmas, Grandpas, Aunts,
Uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews – they all were there. We took our requisite spots in the back left
portion of the sanctuary, I could literally tell you the assigned seats to this
day! I know it sounds crazy but one of
the coolest things in the world when you are a young boy is holding a real
candle with real fire in a church! If
you didn’t fiddle too much you might have even got to light the candle of the
one sitting next to you in the pew. But
definitely not the candle of your cousin, because surely that would end with a call
to 911! Yes, holding a lit candle in
church on Christmas Eve while singing Silent Night was special.
Then we would head home and my brothers and me would start to
inventory all of the presents under the tree.
There was usually a good amount under the tree, but until Santa came the
REALLY exciting ones didn’t appear. Soft
presents (surely clothes) were not exciting, anything BIG was highly
anticipated, and even more so if it rattled or slid within the box. Thinking about what might be inside was
excruciating! Ah, I couldn’t wait until
morning!
We were entitled to open one gift on Christmas Eve! But (and it was a big but for a ten year old)
Mom and Dad got to pick which present we each got to open on Christmas
Eve. It didn’t take too long to figure
out that the present selected was ALWAYS new pajamas. Sports pajamas, comic hero pajamas, or some
special new pajamas to ensure pictures on Christmas morning were perfect …
except for our hair.
After getting out cookies and milk, and sometimes carrots
for the reindeer we would collectively be shuttled off to bed. Christmas comes early for young boys.
Whoever woke up earliest on Christmas morning shook the
other brothers out of their sleep and then bounced into Mom & Dad’s bedroom
to wake them up. Mom and Dad would then call
Grandma and Grandpa Strempke and tell them to come over, then instruct us to
return to our rooms while they went downstairs to see if Santa had actually
arrived and left gifts. Fortunately, he
didn’t miss our house even one year!



Following an hour or two of unwrapping gifts we would start pestering
Dad to help us assemble, put batteries in, or just show us how to work these
amazing gifts we had just received. And
yes, we even had to try on our new clothes to be certain they fit – it was an
unfortunate but necessary part of the morning as well. Then a quick change out of the new pajamas and
into your new Iowa sweatshirt and jeans (complete with tearing off tags with
reckless abandon) and we were off to City Hall (either in Oelwein or Hazelton)
to meet our Grandma Birchard and her side of the family. Aunts, Uncles, cousins, came from miles
around and filled a tile or wood floored hall with voices of laughter, singing,
prayer, food and fun. It was a family
Christmas time like no other.

Then me and my cousins would head outdoors to burn off a
portion of the excitement and sugar we
had consumed in large doses over the day.
had consumed in large doses over the day.
Tell me, isn’t this a storybook Christmas if you’ve ever
heard one? Yeah, and I had this same
experience with slight variety every year of my childhood growing up. Simply put, it was AWESOME! So thankful for these Christmas memories!
Marc and Brad, what can you add? Marc, can you edit this post and add a picture or two depicting any of what I've described?
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