Saturday, December 17, 2022

Amazing how a picture triggers a memory

This morning I was getting ready to attend a baby shower for an expected grandbaby of a friend, when I happened upon this photo.  It had been stuck in an old jewelry box and I was looking for some Christmas things to brighten up my fashion choice today.  And then this photo dropped out of the drawer.  

When I picked up this photo, I remembered the day it was taken so clearly.  If you notice the upside down inscription - it was the first time we had ever seen a Polaroid Camera/photo.  This was just before Christmas of 1961 and the Polaroid was the "Big Deal" in the camera world.  This is what is printed on the back of the photo....

My dad was fascinated by this concept.  I remember him inspecting the photo, hoping to find something to complain about. I also remember that he had a very long conversation with the salesman trying to sell him the camera!  But that is not the entire memory of this day for me.  

My dad, my brother and I were at the "big" Montgomery Wards store in St. Paul, Minnesota.  It was the evening after the last school day before Christmas and my mom had to work late.  My dad brought us with him to pick up my mom after work and to do a bit of Christmas shopping.  It was a memorable day for me because my dad never brought us shopping, and we got to see where my mom worked!  I was in second grade that year, and my mom had started working full time in the spring of my first grade year. I was the only one in my class with a mom that worked.  I didn't have any friends in the neighborhood that had working moms.  My mom worked in the payroll department that was on the top floor of the store.  I was very impressed by her desk and all the machines she worked with, as well as all of her co-workers. It was the first time that I actually could visualize where my mom was everyday and what she was doing.  Since she still had work to finish when we got there, she suggested that my dad take us to see Santa Claus.  This was my first and only time ever seeing Santa.

Now my brother Greg was 12 and in seventh grade.  It was pretty clear that he was not happy waiting in the line to see Santa.  I remember so clearly when he turned to me, with a very big grin on his face and said, "Santa isn't real.  This is a just a man in a costume.  He doesn't really bring toys.  It's just a game that parents play to make us beg for toys."  My dad never heard this conversation, but by the time I got to the front of the line, I had noticed that this could not be the "real" Santa.  He had a poorly fitting paste on beard and his hair was showing under the while wig.  I didn't want to believe Greg, but some of the magic went out of Christmas for me that night. I never spoke to my mom or dad about this, but I suspected that all the gifts were really from them.   You just have to love those older siblings that spill the beans for all the younger ones.

We didn't get any photo with Santa that night.  It was 1961!  If you had asked me when I stopped believing in Santa, I might have told you the story that I just shared.  But I never realized that there was a  photo from that night. Photos are so powerful. It really is about preserving the moment for the future.   I think that is why I love scrapbooking and have my home filled with pictures.  Recently someone asked me how many scrapbooks I have.  I just counted them and there are 65 scrapbooks on the shelves in my living room. I am still working on the second half of 2019 so this isn't even current!  And I still have boxes and boxes of photos from my life and boxes of older photos from my parents.  

Yes, that night some things about Christmas changed for me.  But it wasn't exactly what my brother might have intended. That year was also the year that I was in a Christmas program at our church.  My class sang "Oh Little Town of Bethlehem" and the program was actually about Christmas around the world.  For me it was one of those special moments when a story just "clicks".  There was something about seeing that the birth of Jesus and knowing it was celebrate around the world.  It was the first time that I understood the meaning of Christmas.  It really didn't matter to me that Santa wasn't real or that my parents provided the gifts under the tree.  Something in that Sunday school program opened my heart to the wonder of Jesus, coming to us as a tiny baby.  

Today, as I was reflecting on this (very old) Polaroid picture and the events of that night, I was struck by two interesting facts.  One, it was the only time I actually "saw" Santa and two, it was the only year I was in a Sunday School Christmas Program.  Isn't it interesting that Jesus made sure that I understood the true wonder and mystery of Christmas when my child's heart had lost the excitement about Santa. I especially love that Jesus brought this picture back into my hands today.  It explains why I just love seeing young children singing and celebrating Jesus' birth. Something that was certainly meant to ruin Christmas for me, and then God making sure the truth was revealed.  Isn't God's timing wonderful!  

I am sure many of you may have stories of your own about Christmas' past and I am sure that there are many photo memories filling your albums, boxes, drawers and phones.  Take a few moments in these days leading up to Christmas, and look over those memories.  Let Jesus bring some revelation to you that might just change how you feel about those photos and Christmas.  If possible, watch some children put on a Christmas play.  Hear the story of the birth of Jesus.  It is all around us if we stop and look for it.

Jesus, thank you for always bringing to us what we need, at exactly the correct time.  Holy Spirit encourage us to stop and listen to the message that is in the air around us during this season.  Give us open hearts to receive the truth and wonder of Jesus' birth.  Thank you Jesus for children, for songs and carols and the joy of Christmas.  Thank you for coming to us!  Amen

1 comment:

  1. Lovely story, Lyn! Your story reminded me of Christmas 1961 also! I woke up in high expectation as any 5 year old would. I inspected under the silver tinsel Christmas tree ( the kind that was rage that year- a few other friends had the same kind… you know, the one that had a spinning glass with different colors to shine off of the tree.). Lo and behold, there were a couple of gifts for me there but I knew that they were clothes. Then my mom and dad walked into the dining room area and guided me with their eyes. I followed the few feet from the tree in the living room to where they stood. As I looked at them, their eyes sparkling, they nudged their heads toward the wall. As I picked up that they wanted me to look there, I did. Against the wall, leaning, was a wrapped box as tall as I was! I looked back at my parents, mouth agape… “for meee?” “Yes, Stevie, for you!” I was simply awestruck. I saw my name on it and that it was from Santa, but something told me that it was mom and dad. I was a car dashboard with steering wheel, radio knobs, windshield wipers, and a working horn. Oh boy!!! But the surprising thing was that I enjoyed the looks on my parents face as they saw to look if wonder, awe, and innocence on my face! I think I liked that more than the gift. I rarely saw mom and dad arm in arm that often but I sure did love it seeing them arm in arm with love in their eyes for me! Christmas is love. God gave Love in Jesus! Two years and a few months later, God took my daddy to be with him. I think if this day of Christmas so long ago rarely but your story sparked my memory. Thank you and thank God for the memory, today!❤️

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