That's What Christmas is All About, Terri Moore

Last night, Christmas Eve, I had an incredible opportunity. The funny thing is I would never have had the opportunity if something bad had not happened. That seems to be a running theme for my life, good from bad. It all started many weeks ago back in November. A very dear friend of mine who is pastor of his own church asked if it would be possible for me and my daughters to come and sing "O Holy Night" at the Christmas Eve service. We accepted and plans were made. It is no secret to those that know me, and now, to any reader of this blog that I love music. I love to sing, and luckily have been able to do it professionally and for fun for most all of my life. Music and singing have been a part of me since joining the Cherub Choir at Westhampton Church when I was three. I love singing at anytime, but I especially love singing at Christmas. I love Christmas music, secular and religious alike. I often joke and say that the first album I release will be a Christmas album. "O Holy Night" happens to be one of my favorites, and I have really only sung it once as a solo for a Christmas Eve service. I was excited to have the chance to share this year, and having both my daughters singing with me was a bonus. Well, God had other plans. About the second week of December, I got a terrible cold, and by the end of that week, I lost my singing voice and most of my speaking voice, just in time, coincidentally, for our big Christmas Music Program at our Church. I didn't get to sing any of them. I was very disappointed, but I thought surely I'd have my voice back by Christmas Eve. When the week before Christmas rolled around, I knew there was no way I would have my voice back to be able to squeak out a note. What to do? My oldest and I discussed it. "O Holy Night" is really a solo. We decided that my youngest daughter would sing the solo, and we would sign. I called my pastor friend, and he loved the idea. I stood there last night and listened to this heavenly sound fill the sanctuary. That was my baby girl, truly the voice of an angel. Her sister and I backed her up with our gifts of being expressive and bringing a visual blessing to go along with the words that were being sung so beautifully. I would not have been touched so deeply last night if I had been able to sing, and the congregation would not have had the chance to experience the "holy moment" that they did.

As I drove home from the service I was in awe as I thought about the amazing way God has blessed me. Now, this is going to sound like bragging, and I don't want it to be that way. I am extremely honest. If my kids did not have talent, I would not say they did. I see no reason for that. Parents who tell their children that they are amazingly gifted at something when they are not do that child a disservice because one day someone will tell them they have no talent, and it will be a crushing blow. It amazes me that God has blessed me with not one but TWO daughters with more than average talent. My oldest has an incredible acting gift, and my youngest has a voice to rival any professional. THEY HAVE IT! It hasn't been taught, not to say they couldn't  hone their gifts with training, but what they were born with, blows my mind. So today, as I sit here waiting for them to come home from their father's, I had to write that this Christmas, for me, wasn't about bows and ribbons and gifts, it was about the humble realization that I have been given two amazing gifts in my daughters and that they are such a blessing to me, and they will bless everyone they come in contact with as they share the incredible gifts God has given them.

Strange Way to Save the World

Tradition # 7: CHRISTMAS EVE AT THE CARILLON
From the time I was very small, I can remember my grandparents taking us down to the carillon in Byrd Park right after Christmas Eve service. No matter what the weather, we would bundle up and sit in front of the beautiful historic tower and watch the story of the birth of the baby Jesus acted out. There was no fancy dialogue, no grandiose orchestra, no light show. The only voice heard was the narrator. The only script was the birth narrative from the book of Luke in the Bible. The only music was a volunteer choir singing Christmas carols accompanied by a piano . It was so simple, but so beautiful.
I imagine that's what the first Christmas was like. He didn't come with trumpets sounding his arrival. He wasn't born in a palace with 1000's of attendants. A stable, a manger, no comforts, surrounded by animals and lowly shepherds. It doesn't sound very glamorous, does it? But when I see that scene on a Christmas card or in a painting, it's always beautiful, and it moves me. The group 4Him sing a song called "Strange Way to Save the World". The words of the chorus fit beautifully with this post. 
                            Why me, I’m just a simple man of trade
                            Why Him with all the rulers in the world
                            Why here inside this stable filled with hay
                            Why her, she’s just an ordinary girl
                            Now I’m not one to second guess
                            What angels have to say
                            But this is such a strange way to save the
                            World
Merry Christmas!

             

♪♫ Drifty, the Snowman ♫♪

Tradition #6: SEEING THE CHRISTMAS SHOW AT SWIFT CREEK

I have been in the theatre most of my life. I started when I was 10. That's over 37 years. Not only has it brought me great joy but also some wonderful friendships. You can be sure that almost every show that goes up in Richmond has somebody in it that I know, but this post is about a very special group of friends that have been doing a series at Christmas time that revolves around the chararcter of Drifty the Snowman. I believe this year marks Drifty's 20th anniversary. I went to see my first Drifty show when my girls were 1 and 4. They are now 18 and 14. They were mesmerized. That's not a small feat to  mesmerize a 1 year old. It became a tradition. We went every year until the girls were at the end of elementary school.

The shows are little mini musicals about Christmas. Who doesn't love that? Drifty usually has some question to be answered or a dilemma to get out of, and he always needs the help of his North Pole friends, Cowboy Jim, Mrs. Claus, Pepita, (an Equadorian Elf), Christy, the Christmas Seal (think barking not stamp) and usually the "Big Guy" himself will make an appearance. The shows are filled with catchy little songs (just as good or better than anything you'd hear in a Rankin-Bass Christmas special) written by my very dear friend, Paul Deiss. The best part about it is the fact that it gives the child an experience with LIVE theatre. They can interact instead of sitting in front of a television screen. They feel like the characters are their friends and there's that little bit of Christmas magic we all need in our lives.
This year Paul has compiled a CD of songs from those shows through the years. It is available on iTunes and CDbaby.com. If you need to bring a little Christmas magic in your life all year long, consider ordering this CD, and next year make a trip down to Swift Creek Mill Theater to see Drifty and his friends. You won't be disappointed.

Necessity is the Mother of Invention

Tradition # 5: CHRISTMAS PICTURES WITH THE GIRLS

I would venture to say that almost everyone has a picture from their childhood taken at a department store studio like JC Penney or Sears. I certainly have my share. They run all kinds of promotions and excited new parents flock to record their little darling's childhood in pictures with cheesy backgrounds. I, too, was one of those excited new parents. I would take my oldest and change her into her Sunday best in the little dressing room and take her out to the studio and sit her up on the little table, and stand there and act like a fool to get her to look at the camera. I have several pictures recording the first 18 months of her life, and then it happened. We took her to Sears Studios just like we'd been doing for the past 18 months, and changed her into her Christmas dress, and took her out to sit her on the little table, and SHE FLIPPED OUT!! She started to cry and fight me, and we could not calm her down. Of course she was not communicating her fear very well at 18 months. Pretty much all we got was a screamed NOOOOOO!!!!!! This presented a dilemma. How was I to get that adorable picture of my little sweetheart to place in the Christmas Cards if she was terrified to get her picture taken at the studio? And thus, the tradition of Christmas Pictures with the girls began. The Christmas after she turned two, I traveled down to Colonial Williamsburg with her in her little red velvet Christmas dress and shot photo after photo of her in front of toy store windows and by holly bushes and on steps and benches decorated in their Holiday finery. She had fun, and so did I. I got much better pictures than I would have ever gotten at a studio because I was capturing her not just a picture of her. We never went to another studio for Christmas Pictures. When her little sister came along we continued to have our annual "photo shoot". They are now 15 and 18, and it's one of the things that we really look forward to each year. We've used different locations, The James Center in downtown Richmond filled with lighted reindeer, the cobblestone streets of Shockoe Slip, and the beautiful, historic Jefferson Hotel complete with Staircase resembling the one in "Gone with the Wind". This year we shot on location in Manteo and Duck, NC during Thanksgiving. Decked out in "Santa" hats and red and green, we brought a little Christmas to the Beach. So what started because of a 2 year old's strong opposition to the department store photo studio has turned into one of my most treasured traditions of Christmas.

Read Me a Story

Tradition # 4: THE SERIAL CHRISTMAS STORY
My grandmother was an avid reader of her daily newspaper. When I was little, Richmond had two newspapers, The Richmond Times Dispatch (morning) and the News Leader (evening). Until we moved away when I was 10, my grandparents only lived 6 doors away from us. Consequently I spent a huge amount of my childhood at their house. My sister and I had dinner there often, and spent almost every weekend there. During the Christmas season the News Leader would run a serial story with a holiday theme. Each night in December when we would finish dinner at my grandparents house, my grandmother would read us the daily installment of the story. I looked forward to that. There was no jumping up from the table as soon as dinner was over to watch TV or play on the computer and browse Facebook. We sat there and listened as my tiny grandmother, just under 5 feet, with her sweet, clear voice would read us each piece of the story. There's something special about having a story read to you aloud. If you haven't done it yet this year, plan a time to sit, with no distractions and read a Christmas story with your whole family. Some of my favorites? So glad you asked, The Polar Express, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and of course, The Night Before Christmas or start your own installment reading each night with The Best Christmas Pageant Ever or The Gift of the Magi. Pick one of your favorites from childhood and share it with your children. They'll love it, just like I did. More importantly, you will too!

Santa on the Road

Tradition # 3: THE SANTA CLAUS TRAIN

Some of you Richmonders reading may know this, and some may not, but The Science Museum of Virginia used to be the Broad Street train station. I can remember going there with my Daddy when I was a little girl to pick up my grandmother who was arriving from his hometown of Georgia. You could go right down on the landing right next to the tracks just like a picture out of those old movies where the lovers are parting ways, and they wave until the train is out of sight.
Just as my grandparents took us to see the REAL Santa Claus every year, they also took us on a Saturday in December down to the Broad Street Station to board the Santa Claus Train. It would depart the Broad Street Station, ride the rails up to Ashland and then back. I don't remember this as well as I do some of the other traditions we had because they stopped the yearly train ride when I was pretty young. During the trip we would have some kind of refreshment, and other performers would come by and perform in the aisle. Unfortunately, for me, there was usually a clown who did magic. I still remember his costume. It was black with multicolored polka dots, and he wore a bowler hat over a shoulder length yellow wig. The only tricks I remember  were a rope trick and he would make a lit cigarette disappear into a bandanna. Odd that I would remember that so clearly. I was always relieved when he passed through our car and moved on. And then just about the time we were to arrive back at Broad Street,  the REAL Santa, with his elf and his Snow Queen would come by and talk to us all about what we wanted for Christmas. It was another thing I looked forward to each year. I have no idea what it cost to ride the Santa Claus train. There were no photo ops for a fee. It was just a special train ride that added that "magic" to the season.

I love a parade!

Tradition #2: THE CHRISTMAS PARADE
When I was a little girl, my Gram and Grampy always took us to the Christmas Parade. Originally it was called the "Thalhimers Christmas Parade". Thalhimers was a big department store in Richmond. Miller & Rhoades and Thalhimers were Richmond's answer to Macy's and Gimbles. I went into details of Miller & Rhoades' claim to Christmas fame in an earlier post about the real Santa Claus. Thalhimers had the parade market cornered. We would get up early on a Saturday morning, drive down Broad Street, the main drag through Richmond, find a coveted parking spot, and lug the lawn chairs and blankets to the sidewalk to scout for the best seat. It was always cold, so we were bundled up from head-to-toe. My Grampy would unfold the lawn chairs and then Gram would settle in and I would sit on her lap, and we would cover up with a hand crocheted afghan. This served two purposes: 1) It helped us stay warm, and 2) Most importantly for me when I was small, it was easier for me to hide my face against my Gram when the clowns came by. We would sit there and look up the street with anticipation, and ask Grampy every 5 minutes, "Is it coming yet?" and then, finally, we could hear the drums in the distance and the siren from the head police car piercing the air. I would bounce up and down on Gram's lap a she would tap her feet in time to the drums of the bands. She was so cute as she would wave her tiny gloved hand at all the girls on the floats and clap in time to the music as the bands played as they passed. We went year after year after year, and as I became the adult it was my Gram that would ask me with anticipation, "Are we going to the parade?" I was blessed enough to be able to take her to those parades for many years and to watch my own little girl sit on Gram's lap and watch the parade. I hope one day I'll be able to watch the parade with my grandchild, and they will be able to look back and remember just like I am today.

Traditions

No, this is not a post about "Fiddler on the Roof." It is about Christmas traditions. Christmas is so important to me, and I think one of the main reasons it is is my grandparents. They started traditions with me when I was very young. In fact, I can't remember when most of these started. They've just always been a part of my Christmas season. Each one has brought joy to me, so I thought that I would try to share one each day as we approach Christmas. Now, I can't promise I'll blog everyday, but I'm sure going to try.
Tradition Number 1: ADVENT CALENDARS
My grandmother on my mother's side, from hereon referred to as "Gram", always got my sister and me an advent calendar. We usually argued about who would get to open door number 24. Now, if you don't know what an advent calendar is, you are missing out. It is usually made of paper and there is a holiday themed picture on it. Punched into the picture are doors numbering from 1 to 24. You open 1 door, each day, starting on December 1st and ending on December 24th. It was usually bought from Cokesbury Bookstore, a Christian bookstore downtown on Grace Street. It has now been turned into apartments. Each year my sister, Jenna, and I would wonder what the calendar would be like. We had many throughout the years, some had a religious basis with a nativity scene pictured or Santa's Workshop, or one year we had the Peanuts characters. The most interesting one we ever had was a huge poster of a nativity scene and parts of the picture were numbered and you were supposed to color your number each day. I don't think Jenna and I ever finished that one. It doesn't really matter. It was all about the countdown, the building of excitement to the "Big Day". Granted, as little children, it was a lot more about Santa Claus and all that Christmas morning brings than Baby Jesus, but it did help me to prepare for the season.
As I grew older and out on my own, Gram still got me an Advent calendar every year until she was no longer able to get out to do so. I still opened the doors (truth be told, sometime 4 or 5 at a time because I let the day go by and I would forget), but there was still the anticipation. It's coming, it's coming! Those words as a child were exciting and filled with wonder and hope. As an adult they sometimes ring with dread and anxiety, It's coming, it's coming. I'm not ready, I don't have enough time. I don't have enough money. My goal, this year, is to fill those words with hope and excitement again and to really try to focus on what I am anticipating and waiting for, to remember a tiny baby born in a stable on a bed of hay surrounded by the animals so I could be saved.

Christmas Gets a Bad "Wrap"

I am so sick of everyone saying, "Christmas has gotten too commercial." You're absolutely right! The Christmas season has become driven by money and spending and having the latest electronics and the most lights, and the biggest tree, and on, and on, and on. But Christmas, itself, is what you make it. I posted a couple of weeks ago about how much I love Christmas. I do! I love the music, the decorations, the surprises, the warm feeling I get on Christmas Eve when we sing "Silent Night" by candlelight, and everyone raises their candles and the Church sanctuary is bathed in a soft glow, and I never make it past the first verse because I'm crying. I like unwrapping each ornament to put on the tree and let the memories it brings wash over me like a flood, some happy, some bittersweet. Call me sappy, but I think it's a magical time. I always have. There is a lot of pressure to BUY! BUY! BUY!, but we don't have to give into that and let it bring us and everyone else around us down.
Dr. Seuss said it best in "How the Grinch Stole Christmas":
                "Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more."
Make Christmas, this year, what YOU want it to be.

Cherish Every Moment

Goodbyes are difficult whether they are are for a short time as we part for a small trip or a bit longer when someone is leaving for college or permanently when we lose them and know they won't be in our lives anymore. They are difficult because when we say them or experience them, we have to suffer loss. I have heard this week about two families who have had to say Good-bye. One child lost their battle with leukemia and another senior boy who attended school with my daughter died last night from cardiac arrest. I CANNOT imagine what it is like to lose a child, and I pray I will never have to experience it. My heart aches for those families, especially at this time of year when everywhere you look there are images that scream family togetherness. How does one heal that gaping wound when a child is ripped from from your world?
I have no trite words of wisdom to dispense, they would sound empty and meaningless like some cheap greeting card.
What I can share is that if anything can come out of a tragedy like this, it is to make me, and I hope you too, realize how very precious life is. That every moment that we are given to love our children is a gift and that we waste far too many of those moments, taking them for granted, as if they will always be there. So tonight, when you hug your children before they go to bed, hold on for just an instant longer and tell then that you love them, even at the risk of rolling eyes at how "weird" you are. None of us knows just how many of those moments we'll have, so make every single one count. Gotta go. I've got two beautiful girls to kiss good night.