Christmas Memories

Christmas is a magical time of year. As a young mother of six children, I would write Christmas stories year after year. It started when they were quite young- before computers- and before I even owned a typewriter. You can do this too if you are so inclined. To me, the stories I wrote are a legacy that I leave for my children and grandchildren. The stories were among the Christmas memories we collected over the years.

I began with an idea, and I asked my children to draw some Christmas scenes that could be used in the story. They didn’t know where their illustrations would fit in until the final story was read to them on Christmas. That was the fun part, because they were all excited to learn just how and where their beautiful drawings would fit in. Those times were short lived. I had only a few short years of their jubilation.

As the kids got older, they really didn’t appreciate my efforts. As teens the stories were a bore, useless, and took time away from their very busy schedules. I kept plugging along against their moans and groans while I read the story. The illustrations were gone by then, so it was just a story. I was always crushed by their lack of enthusiasm. Was it me who just kept the Christmas spirit? I thought about giving up time and time again, but inside of my writing soul was that voice that whispered, “Keep writing. They will appreciate these stories someday.”

As I collected years of stories- thirty years in all, it has been a journey of writing for my family memories, and theirs. As the children grew up, and had families of their own, I then began the tradition again- now for my grandchildren. A few years ago I dug up the old stories, put them on my computer, and typed out each year my children had a story. Included in the “book” were their illustrations just as they had been. The grown children loved this, because my stories and their illustrations brought back so many memories of Christmas. I’m glad I listened to my writing soul.

This year, I have only a few young grand kids who may or may not appreciate my gift to them. They aren’t as exciting as their video games or their time opening “real gifts”, but I’ll keep plugging on, knowing that my writing soul is never wrong. Someday they will appreciate it- maybe. It’s my Christmas memories to them.

Christmas Memories

Christmas is a magical time of year. As a young mother of six children, I would write Christmas stories year after year. It started when they were quite young- before computers- and before I even owned a typewriter. You can do this too if you are so inclined. To me, the stories I wrote are a legacy that I leave for my children and grandchildren. The stories were among the Christmas memories we collected over the years.

I began with an idea, and I asked my children to draw some Christmas scenes that could be used in the story. They didn’t know where their illustrations would fit in until the final story was read to them on Christmas. That was the fun part, because they were all excited to learn just how and where their beautiful drawings would fit in. Those times were short lived. I had only a few short years of their jubilation.

As the kids got older, they really didn’t appreciate my efforts. As teens the stories were a bore, useless, and took time away from their very busy schedules. I kept plugging along against their moans and groans while I read the story. The illustrations were gone by then, so it was just a story. I was always crushed by their lack of enthusiasm. Was it me who just kept the Christmas spirit? I thought about giving up time and time again, but inside of my writing soul was that voice that whispered, “Keep writing. They will appreciate these stories someday.”

As I collected years of stories- thirty years in all, it has been a journey of writing for my family memories, and theirs. As the children grew up, and had families of their own, I then began the tradition again- now for my grandchildren. A few years ago I dug up the old stories, put them on my computer, and typed out each year my children had a story. Included in the “book” were their illustrations just as they had been. The grown children loved this, because my stories and their illustrations brought back so many memories of Christmas. I’m glad I listened to my writing soul.

This year, I have only a few young grand kids who may or may not appreciate my gift to them. They aren’t as exciting as their video games or their time opening “real gifts”, but I’ll keep plugging on, knowing that my writing soul is never wrong. Someday they will appreciate it- maybe. It’s my Christmas memories to them.