Dear Sisters:

At my request, my husband made a trip to the attic. He brought down all the storage boxes containing our Christmas decorations. As I opened each box, I was flooded with memories. Like patches of material in a quilt, memories of Christmases past began to fit together. Each item I touched was so very different, yet each brought thoughts together displaying a lovely collection of memories in my mind. These boxes contained ornaments and items from different generations that were passed down to me and my family creating a sort of Christmas legacy in a box.

The first of the items was a couple of boxes of red and gold ornaments. I remember using these decorations on my very first Tennessee Christmas tree. I was on my own in a tiny apartment with very little money. Rick, who was my boyfriend at the time, got permission from a local landowner to go on his property and shoot me a Christmas tree. Yes, you heard me correctly; he shot me a Christmas tree. When we were dating, he was a big hunter. I remember thinking, "Wow, this guy is either crazy or a very serious hunter. Shooting me a tree?" I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and go with "a serious hunter." He planted the rifle at the base of the tree and with one pull of the trigger; he mowed down a piece of Christmas for me with one shot. My apartment was filled with the scent of pine. The red and gold ornaments, together with icicles, made a spectacular tree. Last, but not least, I had a blinking star with Santa in the middle to adorn the top of the tree. That tree topper had belonged to my Grandma and my heart thought of her the moment it lit up. The ornaments had belonged to my Mom, so then and there my heart ached to be home in Indiana at Christmas time. Those sentimental items surrounded me and in a sense, I felt close to home. Items from the past entered my world and became a part of my very own Christmas. Bits and tiny pieces of Christmas were beginning to thread together connecting the past to the now.

From out of the attic collection, there was a box labeled "Fragile! Very old ornaments". The box contains ornaments handed down from both Rick's side of the family and my family. Glass ornaments collected through the years are now scattered in various places in my home. They are on display as generational bits and pieces of Christmas. I know memories were built through all the people who used them through the generations. Some of the ornaments are chipped. They are the kind of ornaments you would only find in an antique shop. Though the paint is rubbing off on many of them from years of precious use, they are still beautiful because of the memories they represent. Hands through the generations packed them, unpacked them and used them to create precious Christmas memories.

Some of my favorite ornaments are the ones my husband Rick made and decorated when he was a boy. They are precious to me because his sweet little hands, as steady as possible, did a fabulous job with Elmer's glue and glitter. His heart, creativity and patience are found in every ornament. Each ornament different, each unique. Each one represents bits and pieces of Christmas coming together in precious masterpieces.

And finally, there was one item that stopped me in my tracks, you know the kind that forces you to stop and remember and as you do, you remember every detail and every journey connected with the item. A tiny Christmas stocking simply labeled in glitter paint, "Baby." Baby was Kendall's first baby doll. Baby was little and perfect for Kendall's arms. She was a gift from her Grandmother. Baby never got a formal name; she was simply "Baby" to our girl. Kendall never really played with other dolls. Baby was different. She was a member of the family. She went everywhere with us. She had to be sewn up several times. "Don't hurt her, Kendall would say!" A kiss from Kendall administered before surgery was the only anesthesia Baby would need. Her leg had to be re-attached once and she stayed dirty, no matter how many times I cleaned her. All it took was to see the tiny Christmas stocking we made Baby which hung faithfully from our mantel year after year and like a movie, memories of Baby flashed through my mind.

So bits and pieces of Christmas, gathered through the years, were found in my storage boxes. The collection reminded me that Christmas is a gift that never ends. Christmas is really a legacy of love and the gift begins with a real baby. It begins with the greatest miracle in the history of the world, the eternal Son of God being born as a man to the Virgin Mary. Our legacy begins quietly in a stable in an obscure village in Judea. The threads of our Christian heritage begin with swaddling clothes, strips of cloth used to wrap babies of ancient times to keep them warm and secure. God came to earth and through His son we are heirs, children of God. He has blessed us with a rich heritage, giving power and promise to every generation.

The bits and pieces of Christmas that I treasure so very much really represent something that is much bigger than me. My house shines with the light of Christmas. All my ornaments and decorations now come together in a beautiful display. I'm surrounded by items of love and very special memories. Lights shimmer on the tree and glass ornaments reflect the glow. But no light shines brighter than the light of hope that came to Bethlehem one miraculous night. The light of Christ serves as the flame of my spiritual legacy. That light continues through all of history and it touches generation after generation bringing life, peace and salvation.

I wish all of you a very Merry Christmas. May your hearts, like Mary's, treasure up and ponder all the glories of Christmas. No greater gift exists than the gift of hope Mary wrapped for us that night. Open her gift, accept Him and celebrate Him; then your bits and pieces of Christmas will come together in the true meaning of the season.

Cheryle Jaggers
Women's Ministry Coordinator