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Clergy Clatter
As I get older, and older, and older, Advent and the pre-Christmas Season takes on more and more importance to me, because it is so full of memories. They aren’t huge memories of great events. To the contrary, they are usually minute little things that really shouldn’t take up brain space, but there they are, usually bringing a smile to my face, that no one else would understand.
One of those clusters of memories was making Christmas presents in elementary school for our mothers. This may still go on, but I seriously doubt it. Now – you have to remember that I attended elementary school in Cheyenne, Wyoming right in the middle of World War II. Between the worst weather on earth, and rationing of anything that could be used for the war effort, it took some creativity to come up with gift ideas. But none-the-less, gifts, and decorations, and tree ornaments, had to be made. And even in the 1st grade there was a serious focus on what we today call recycling or repurposing.
I remember making my 1st grade “present” like it was yesterday. We were each instructed to bring to class a very clean glass ketchup bottle, and 10 cents for supplies. Under the watchful eye of our teacher, we painted our bottles either red or green. And we had to be very careful not to use too much paint, because the war may need that paint. We were taught to paint up from the bottom, so the paint wouldn’t run and be wasted. We were introduced to the miracle of transfer decals. We could pick a few decals of flowers, soak them in water, and watch them miraculously stick to our freshly painted bottles. We were then given cork stoppers with sprinkler heads on them, and behold, we had made laundry sprinkler bottles for Christmas presents for our mothers. If you don’t know what a sprinkler bottle is, it’s ok. It’s something you will never need to know.
The next year, we had to bring round paper ice cream cartons to class. We covered them with scraps of cloth, paper, or anything colorful that would stick with glue. And behold, we had made “desk baskets” into which our mothers could store letters from our fathers who were away at war. And so it went, each year.
Now – why would I remember these little things? And even more importantly, when I was helping to pack up my mother house 50 years later, why did I find them stuck away in the back of a cabinet? They were the embodiment of memories – things that could not be told, could not be explained, but were too important to throw away. They would never be used again, except to remember.
For me Advent is packed with those sorts of memories – things I don’t think about at any other time of the year, but they rush back to the conscious front at Advent. My 1st grade teacher has a face at Advent. I don’t remember her name, but her face is very present.
The Biblical Advent/Christmas story is full of memories. People are keeping things in their hearts – things that make no sense, things that would be meaningless if told. But they are real and they are powerful.
I wish you a Blessed Advent and Christmas Season.
Richard+
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