Remembrances Of Christmases Past
By TOM MORTON
First, let me introduce myself to you the readers of The Monticello News. I am the son of a Jasper County native, Ethel Wilson, who married my dad Wellborn Carter Morton, Sr.. in 1936 and they made their home in Butts County.
Even though I grew up in Jackson, I often visited my relatives in Monticello until they passed away. Not only was I related to the Wilsons but also to a number of the Goodmans, my grandmother being the late Eunice “Berta” Goodman, who married George Rufus Wilson. Many of my relatives from the Wilson-Goodman side of the family are interred in the family plot at Talmadge Church. Additionally I consider Monticello as my second “hometown.” I should also mention that I served as pastor of Adgateville Baptist Church in 1972-73 while driving back and forth from New Orleans Theological Seminary in New Orleans twice a month; this lovely congregation called me as pastor again and I served that loving, close-knit congregation for an additional fifteen years until my retirement in 2004 due to my failing heart and the death of my first wife Diane.
As I write this on Saturday, December 30, Christmas has been celebrated with families following our traditional customs in the usual, and maybe sometimes, unusual ways. Our family celebrates in unusual ways in that the younger children receive presents from us the grandparents, the older grandchildren may draw names or in some ways exchange gifts. Since our grandchildren are almost grown and in college, we usually give cash to them. We also gather together on Christmas Day, usually late in the afternoon to feast on the food prepared for the occasion. I am sure this custom is followed many times over the nation and world wherever Christmas is celebrated, whether to celebrate the birthday of Christ or not.
In my own family consisting of our parents and four sons—the only daughter having lived only six months after she was born—we celebrated Christmas in almost the same way every year. We would put up a Christmas tree, usually a cedar, and decorate it with all the lights we had and with garlands of gold and silver, the bright glass balls of myriad colors brightly shining along with electric lights on the tree.
Then we sons would put our boxes of cardboard with our names on them; sometimes we would use wooden apple crates if they were available. Before we went to bed in anticipation of Santa’s visit, we would place a glass of milk and a plate of cookies or a slice of mom’s freshly baked pound cake near the tree. When I was nine, I wanted a bright red and white bicycle (which I received and thoroughly enjoyed). Graduating from my tricycle and riding my bike, I was always accompanied by my dog Jackie as he faithfully followed me everywhere I would ride.
My parents never worried about my whereabouts because my dog gave me the protection I needed. In fact, Jackie disliked anyone with a stick unless that stick served as a walking aid to get about more easily, such as the elderly black man who lived close to us; Jackie would raise his head and watch him as he passed by the house and then go back to his nap time. To show how tough Jackie was, my dad was once having trouble getting a hog back into the pen, so he ordered Jackie to take charge. Jackie followed through on this chance to show his toughness by slitting the hog’s throat. Later someone asked Dad if he punished the dog, and Dad said “no,” because Jackie did “what I told him to do.”
While I was growing up, our family always had an enjoyable Christmas and we celebrated it because it was the BEST family time to show our love to one another. We may have had little to celebrate with in terms of money, but Christmas is not based on how rich a person or a family is as far as material things are concerned but Christmas is based on the love that each family member can give—and our family was loaded with tons of love for one another. Just being together as a family at Christmas time was a present in itself; when we grew up and left our “nest,” Christmas would never be the same anymore.
One particular thing comes to mind: around 4 p.m. on Christmas day, my dad would exclaim “Christmas is over” and I would always respond with “I hope not.” The spirit of Christmas makes that day, and every day a special day and would go a long way in making the “peace on earth” very possible and attainable. The spirit of Christmas is love–nothing less, nothing more—which is possible in our world with “wars and rumors of wars”. The Spirit of Christmas is reachable as we ask the Lord of Christmas, Jesus Christ, to help us begin to live that life of love.