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Dec. 24th, 2005 07:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sue_n_juliaThe tradition started sometime in my teens. My dad worked for the Corps of Engineers on a flood control project (that helps protect Pittsburgh from flooding every spring). Someone had to be on site everyday 365 days a year (366 on a leap year). There wer only three maintenance mechanics, so they rotated who worked weekends and holidays. The person who didn't work the weekend on either side of the holiday worked the holiday. Well, my dad got stuck doing that for five years in a row while I was a teen. By the time he got a Christmas off, Christmas Eve was a tradition.
There's something special about sitting around the tree with the lights on and handing out the gifts you've carefully picked out. It's just a little bit magical.
Years ago, I wrote this; I hope you enjoy it.
The Christmas Church
©1988-2005 Susan Wensel
The old church stands
in the middle of the village,
surrounded by a blanket of white.
The slate grey roof is
sprinkled with the ice
of Christmas snow.
The warm light
of the stained glass windows
invites many a cold, weary traveller
to come inside.
The bell in the steeple
has never rung
The doors have never opened.
The Christmas Church
is a ceramic figure
painted by my mother.
She spent many hours
painting each brick,
filling the windows with crushed glass,
and sprinkling diamond dust for just the right icy effect.
Before she even got a chance to start,
the steeple broke.
After she fixed it, it was crooked.
It looks even more real now.
We sit it on the kitchen window sill
and put a Christmas light in it.
The church looks like it is being used.
On Christmas Eve,
when the lights around the window are lit,
I can almost hear
hymns and carols
like they are being sung
in the old church in the middle of the village.
Christmas
S
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Date: 2005-12-28 07:33 pm (UTC)