The memory that most lingers in my mind about my childhood Christmases
occurred every Christmas Eve over sixty-some years ago. I was raised in
northeastern Pennsylvania where we attended North Jackson Methodist Church, several
miles from home. On Christmas Eve we drove to our church for the children's
program. Everyone donned our best outfits and there was much excitement. The
lights dimmed and the youngsters gave their recitations and sing the special
Christmas songs, for which we had been practicing for weeks. Then Santa
would come and give each of us a small box of candy. Often it would snow while
we were in church, to give us that special white Christmas. Although it would
be late to bed, I was always up early to see what Santa had left under my
small tree, and I was never disappointed. Santa never forgot, or left coals in
my stocking. And perhaps because of this event, and other children's events
at our small church, my faith has never failed me, an intrinsic part of my
personality.
Glorianne Fahs
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