The Year I Discovered The True Meaning of Christmas

I’ve always enjoyed the Christmas holidays, whether as a child receiving Christmas presents or as an adult giving them. There are three Christmases I will never forget, because of what the Christmas season is really all about and the symbolism surrounding it: 1973, when I was 5 years old and living in New Mexico; 1978, when I first learned what Christmas is all about; and 1982, when I finally acknowledged what I had learned.

I know I was supposed to talk about the Fall of ’78 and when I first attended Jodie McClure, and I will get to that in a future post. But since it’s the Christmas season, and since this is my 50^th Christmas (even though I’m still 49) I felt it would be appropriate to write about the 1978 Christmas, which was memorable for a lot of reasons. First, it was our first Christmas living on Margo Street, and the first we would be able to spend it with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins in over two years- some we hadn’t seen in longer than that. Second, this was also the first time in years we had been able to put up some Christmas lights- something I enjoy doing to this day. I will never forget how pretty it was when we lived in New Mexico- there was snow on the ground, snow in the mountains, and Christmas lights were lit all over the mountains (there was a town up in the mountains and at night, with all the lights lit, it was a sight to behold). My parents took us to one of those Christmas tree villages (like the one seen on A Charlie Brown Christmas), and I will never forget how beautiful that was. The decorated trees, the spotlights flashing, the snow-covered atmosphere, and the decorated snowmen, I haven’t seen anything like that before or since. That’s why the 1973 Christmas is so memorable, because of its beauty.

Anyway, back to 1978, when Daddy put up the tree and some Christmas lights, those were the first lights put up since we lived in New Mexico, and my sister and I were excited to see them. However, what made that year’s Christmas so memorable wasn’t anything that happened at home, but it was something that happened at school, Jodie McClure to be precise. Back in the day, elementary schools used to have Christmas programs, and all grades would usually participate. I remember being in the programs when we lived in Abilene and I attended Dyess Elementary, and I can remember one back in the 2^nd grade, but as far as kindergarten and 1^st grade go, my mind draws a blank.

For our 5^th grade Christmas program, we were going to re-enact what Christmas is all about: the birth of Jesus. I can remember our music teacher telling us this, and then she passed out the parts. The part I received was the part of Joseph. My friends Roy Craine, Marion Burton, and Robert Taylor nearly killed themselves with laughter. They was like, “He’s playing Joseph! He’s going to be married and have a wife and a baby! Ha ha ha!” I was like, Who the heck is Joseph? Before you all laugh at my ignorance, I’m embarrassed to admit that at the time, I really had no idea who Joseph or even Mary was. I had a vague idea of who Jesus was, but it was very vague. We had attended church when we lived in Longview earlier, and I had even gone to Sunday School, but they had basically taught us the same thing over and over and over again, which was John 3:16 and Luke 10:27. Nothing more, nothing less. So, by participating in this program, I learned about the birth of Jesus. I would say that I had fun doing so, but that would be a lie. It was very stressful. I learned I was to walk Mary across the stage, push a big wooden donkey, and carry a gigantic stick (called a staff). There were four sticks in all, because the three shepherds had to have sticks, too, and three sticks were of average size, while the 4^th stick seemed to be as tall as the Statue of Liberty and just as heavy. We would race every day to grab the sticks and keep from having to hold that gigantic stick, and just about everyday I was the first to grab a medium-size stick while one of the shepherds had to suffer. I reminded myself to be sure I did that on the day of the play, because it was enough I had to play the part of Jesus’ earthly father and be laughed at every day for my probably pained facial expressions.

Another interesting aspect to this tale was that the girl playing Mary was white. (And the baby doll was white, too.) I don’t know what the atmosphere was like as far as there being a black Joseph with a white Mary; God knows I wasn’t thinking about that- I just wanted to get the whole thing over with- but I wonder whether or not there were some parents (and even teachers) who were unhappy about that back then. Again, that thought never crossed my mind then, and I’m sure that most of the teachers didn’t care one way or another. I know my music teacher didn’t care because she said no one could change their parts. Ok, then.

On the day of the play, my momma decided in all of her infinite wisdom that I would wear a suit, tie, and slacks to school. It was cold that day, but I would have to wear a robe over all of that, and naturally, I would almost burn up with all of that stuff on. I was already nervous, and this was not helping. What also didn’t help that due to my worrying about wearing hot clothes and hoping I didn’t catch on fire on stage, I completely forgot about the sticks, and by the time I went to get one, the only one left was the telephone pole. If I could’ve cussed back then, I would have. Now I had to walk across the stage with a white wife and a baby Jesus, push a big donkey, and carry a big stick, all the while hotter than the sun itself. Somehow, we made it across the stage, then I had to stand there stock-still holding the stick.

I looked and saw more people than I’d thought I see, and I almost passed out. But then I looked again, and I saw Momma and Daddy- and I was shocked, because I thought he had gone to work. But he had taken off from work to see our Christmas program- and although I was sweating like a horse, I actually felt a little better after seeing him there, and I basically just watched him the entire time. When the program was over, I almost didn’t want it to end, and I finally understood what Christmas is all about. That was the second-best Christmas program I was ever in (the best came at church in ’82), and after the music teacher thanked everyone for coming, we all ran to our parents and got hugs. Daddy told me I did really good, and Momma was proud of me, too, and then I asked them if I could go home and get out of that hot suit. They said, yes, and they must have thought I was going to wait on them to take me home, but I didn’t. I got the house keys some kind of way, and then I ran home and changed clothes and then ran back to the school. Yes, although I had not mentioned it, it had been a late morning program.

Later, in 1982, a week before Christmas, I participated in my church’s Christmas program, where I played the part of the innkeeper who had no room for Joseph, Mary, and baby Jesus. It was the best Christmas program I had ever participated in. Then, the day after Christmas, December 26, 1982, I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and savior and was baptized roughly two weeks later. That was the greatest gift I had ever received on Christmas, but it all started with the gaining of a little knowledge in 1978- for had I not played the part of Joseph in the school play, I might would still be wondering who the heck Joseph is and about the true meaning of Christmas.

Things I Should've Put In The Book- Episode 7

Things I Should've Put In The Book - Episode 7

Return to Longview – July 1978

In June of 1978, my daddy retired from the Air Force. We were living in Abilene on Dyess Air Force Base, and we had lived there for the last couple of years. During that time, I’d seen a few of my classmates move away due to their father or mother being transferred elsewhere, and it was usually kind of sad, especially if it were one of the more popular classmates, but for some reason, I never had given it a thought that it might happen to me…until it did. I knew we were going to move even before school had ended, and for me and four of my other classmates, it was very, very sad. I will never forget the last day of school; my entire 4^th grade class was crying because five of us were moving away and more than likely we were never going to see one another again. (And to this very day, that was the last time I saw my classmates from that school year.) My best friend was a guy named Robert Duff. He was my next door neighbor, and for the last year or so, we had done everything together- We played baseball, kickball, soccer, we were in the same cub scouts group, we collected and traded comic books and baseball cards, had races on our bikes, walked to and from school together, and other things 4^th grade boys did at that time. If he hadn’t moved next door to us the year before, I’d have probably wanted to move away sooner. But, as it was, I enjoyed living in Abilene for the most part, and I felt I was blessed to have a buddy like Robbie and I really got along with everyone in my class.

So, in other words, I did NOT want to move. But of course I had no say so in the matter, and the movers came and got everything less than a week after school was out. My memory is a little bit hazy as far as how long did it take to find a place to stay- we stayed at a motel in Abilene for a few days before heading east, and then there was a period of time where we were out looking for a house and staying with my grandmother.  My parents have told me that it was between Longview, Marshall, and Fort Worth as to where we would wind up staying, and the favorite (for my parents anyway) was Marshall because that’s where both of them were from. My daddy told me he sent letters to the Chamber of Commerce’s for each town, and the only one to respond was Longview. (Is it any wonder Marshall has never grown beyond 20,000 people?) There was a lady who helped us find a house, helped Daddy find a job, and who basically made things as easy as possible on starting to adapt to life outside the military.

In July 1978, after looking at numerous houses, we moved to a house on Margo Street and gradually settled in within the next couple of weeks. My frame of mind during this period was basically one of sadness, because I missed my friends in Abilene, and I knew that things were going to be totally different compared to living on a base. I had been in the cub scouts and had just moved up to Webelo boy scout status, but I knew in my heart that was over with. Plus, although I didn’t really think about the friends I had when I attended East Ward two years before (such as Joanna, Jennifer, John Young, Mary, Deyavor), I knew it didn’t matter anyway because I was going to a new school right down the street from me- Jodie McClure Elementary School- and I didn’t know anybody who’d be going there. And I was only going for one year anyway because I was going to the 5^th grade and I’d be going to middle school for the 6^th grade next year. So the way it eventually wound up, I attended three different schools in three years. All this before I turned 11 years old.

I was into comic books and baseball cards, and in Abilene, I would trade comic books and cards with different guys, but in Longview, I didn’t see anyone who even looked like they had read a comic book or touched a baseball card. So, basically I was thinking, What am I going to do? I’m going to be miserable living here- I wish we had never moved away from Abilene!  Yes, I was thinking along those lines, until one hot summer day, as I was exploring the backyard (which, in time, would be the most interesting part of the house), a little kid around my sister’s age came down the hill from next door, and asked me what my name was. I told him, and I asked him what his name was. “Tony” he replied, “Tony Lilly”. As it turned out, my sister and he were the same age and we all became friends. His family had moved next door a month before we did, so we all were basically new to the neighborhood. Then he said something which turned the tide as far as my attitude on living there went. “I have an older sister. Let me go get her so you can meet her.” He brought his sister over, and when I saw her, I instantly forgot about comic books. She introduced herself- “My name is Carla.” One thing Abilene did not have much of was black girls, and after looking at and meeting Carla, I began to wonder just what all did I miss living on a base. Carla was a little more than a year older than me, and she was going to the 6^th grade. And though I would never admit it back then, from the get-go I was attracted to her, but I kept my feelings to myself seeing that I was 9 at the time and didn’t really understand why I was feeling the way I did anyway.

Carla, Tony, Poinsettia, and I played together almost every day that summer- we played kickball, rode our bikes, and explored the backyard for frogs, crickets, rolly-pollies, and anything else we could find. There was a swamp with a pond and a trail back there, so it was never boring playing out back. We also played something that not many kids play today, if at all, and that was jacks. Carla and I would almost always either sit in the driveway, or on the porch, or go inside sometimes, just to play jacks. I know that it wasn’t exactly a boy’s game, but I really enjoyed playing jacks with Carla, for obvious reasons. Carla used to wear these shorts which really were Daisy Dukes before Daisy Duke even existed, and they were a big time distraction and caused me to lose more times than not. Or maybe I won…Anyway, Carla and Tony, mostly Carla, made me forget my depression over moving, and I wound up enjoying that summer more than I expected.

I almost enjoyed it more than possibly any summer ever, more than any future summers in my life, if possible. One day, Carla suggested we go and walk down the trail and…enjoy life, so to speak. I was shocked and intrigued at the same time, and after a little prodding, I agreed and got ready to go from 9 years old to 18 years old in a matter of seconds. So we was just about to go on our way, when my mom, who was probably looking out the kitchen window anyway, called out to me and basically told us to stay in the backyard (where she could see us). That would be the first and last time Carla would suggest anything like that (I think), and we went on to playing jacks, which no longer was interesting to me.

Next: Jodie McClure and Football