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STORIES STO ORIE ES OF CH CHRISTMAS HRISTMA
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Stories of
Christmas Because these were the only stories submitted this year for the Brainerd Dispatch’s 33rd annual Stories of Christmas contest, we are awarding everyone with a prize. The stories will be accompanied by weather drawing illustrations submitted by local elementary school children.
Thanks to those few who took the time to submit their stories. Merry Christmas!
Return this completed coloring page to your Cub Foods store in Brainerd or Baxter (or email it to Sdaoust@ quisbergs.com) to be entered in a drawing to win a fabulous prize package! (Ages 11 and under) Name:_____________________ Phone:______________
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A special Christmas tree Joan Hallada, age 90 Crosby Year 1940. Christmas tomorrow! We had to get to bed, because Santa would be coming, and “he might not stop at our house if we weren’t sleeping,” that’s what mommie would tell us, so we’d get to sleep fast. When we woke up my two sisters and myself would run to the living room, and wow! Santa would have brought us a tree and presents for under the tree, and maybe a piece of fruit and candy cane in our stockings. How could he fit all the presents and trees on his sleigh, for all the good kids and put all those trees on Christmas Eve? I always wondered about that? Later I found out the secret — Mommie and Papa were really — “Santa.” My mom made most of our gifts, but
on Christmas Eve, when things went on sale, she would go shopping for one toy or doll. She would sew clothes for the doll when she came home. My papa would go shopping for a tree, after the tree lots closed on Christmas Eve, and get us a big tree “free.” During the war there were all kinds of shortages, including Christmas trees, so he’d maybe have to bring home two or more trees and cut branches, drill holes to put them in sparse spots, so we would have one big beautiful tree. One Christmas he went looking and came home empty handed. After thinking about it he went out to the woods to get us a Christmas tree. We didn’t live where pines and spruces grow, so he ended up cutting and bringing home about a 6-foot oak tree. They stayed up all
night, painting colors on all the leaves of red, blue, green, purple and then dabs of gold and silver on the leaves. Then they strung big outdoor lights on it (small lights were in short supply). They further adorned our tree with the ornaments, tinsel and glass beads, and got the presents around the tree, just about daylight. (Of course we didn’t know this). Well about an hour later, our eyes popped open, and we would wake each other up, all excited to remember — today is Christmas, let’s go see if Santa came! We would quietly make our way toward the living room and there it was but it was different! We ran to my parents’ room hollering “Mommie, Papa, get up, come fast and see — Santa came and we have a different tree — hurry! We were excited
and wanted to turn the lights on, but we couldn’t until they got up and came into the room. When they got there and we turned the lights on, “Oh what a beautiful Christmas tree!” I got a doll with clothes, and a new dress, and pjs, an apple and candy stick in my stocking. When I went back to school, I told all the kids in my class of our tree and found out we were the only ones to get such a special Christmas tree. Many of the kids came to see our tree. The next year, we asked Santa for another “special oak Christmas tree,” but we never got another one. When I got older, to know “the secret,” I knew why we never got another special tree, but I also knew all the LOVE that my parents gave to make Christmas special, a good reason to remember.
The Christmas Story
Weather drawing by Jonas Klicker, 3rd grade, Harrison, Mrs. Meyer's class.
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Ruthie Noordmans, age 13 Motley Mary sighed on her donkey, Gray. She and Joseph had come a long way! Caesar had made them come so he could count, All the people—the entire amount! They had been going from inn to inn, But the answer was always ‘NO ROOM!’ through the din. The baby inside Mary’s tummy stirred. “Joseph, it’s time,” she whispered. His eyes brightened with joy. “You mean Jesus, my little boy?” Mary nodded, wincing in pain. Joseph tried to hurry, but in vain. They came to the last inn on the last road. “NO ROOM!” they were again told. “Please, my wife is about to have a baby. A roof, food, and some dry clothes, maybe?” The innkeeper hesitated, then said, “My stable has a roof, dry clothes, and bread, My wife can come for the birth, if needed.” He led them down a path, well worn, To a cave called a stable — it was quite warm! Mary lay on some hay, While Joseph went to get help and pay. “Yahweh, help me to be brave,” Mary prayed. She hated to admit it, but she was afraid. The innkeeper’s wife came from the inn above, To give some tender care and love. Joseph waited at the inn, pacing the floor. He had never felt so anxious before! Finally, the innkeeper’s wife came and said, “You can go.” Joseph ran to the cave/stable below. A star above shone very bright, Through the sky of the peaceful night. “Mary, how do you and Jesus fare?” Mary smiled. “Very well, and Yahweh cares! But where will baby Jesus sleep? I see no cradle, unless it’s buried somewhere deep.” “How about the manger?” Joseph said, “It’s not a cradle, but it is a bed.” Just as Mary placed Him there, Many shepherds entered the stable, in pairs. “Is the savior, the messiah here?” they asked. “An angel or two told us the facts. We will find Him in a manger, In a stable, a place with no danger. A multitude sang: ‘Praise to God in the heavens, and peace to those who believe His name!’” Joseph stood, amazed by the story and their nature, bold. But Mary treasured it in her heart, so it could be retold. The wisemen came later on, They had followed the star, bright as the sun. Bringing gifts of myrrh, frankincense, and gold, They too had a story that was quite bold. “For the king, g, Immanuel,, for Prince Jesus. His Father sent the star so He could see us!” As you have watched His life unfold Remember: Reme Re memb mber er:: Jesus Jesu Je suss is the thee savior sav savvio iorr of the the world wor w orld ld
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Weather drawing by Savannah Bowen, 3rd grade, Harrison, Mrs. Meyer’s class.
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STORIES OF CHRISTMAS
Weather drawing by Chase Peabody, 1st grade, Garfield, Mrs. Olson’s class.
The best Christmas ever Linda M Ryan-Antonich, age 66 Fifty Lakes Now that all the presents are all unwrapped and things have slowed down a little for most of us, I want to share my Christmas story from 2009 with you all. We did not have such a joyous Christmas as we had hoped for or planned on until my eyes were opened up by a bright eyed six year old. Our 29-year-old son, Tyler, was injured in a hockey accident on the 16th of December. He was playing in Minneapolis in a tournament and took a slap shot to the face (keep in mind for some reason in that league you longer were required to wear a face shield). Not only were there numerous fractures to his face but the bones severed an artery in his nasal area and they could not stop the bleeding. They couldn’t control his blood pressure and his body went into shock. This went on for seven days. Finally on Dec. 23, he was stable enough to go into surgery. With the holiday approaching, they allowed Tyler to come home on Christmas Eve. Our daughter, Stacey, and her family made it to Minnesota as Stacey insisted on being with her brother. They had bad weather but Great-Grandma Pat was in the backseat giving directions. As we started our family celebration, Tyler started to hemorrhage at 8:30 p.m. Christmas Eve and was rushed back to the hospital. On Christmas after-
noon, he had more surgery to try and stop the bleeding and do repair work on the facial area once again. We spent Christmas as a family in the ICU praying for a happy outcome and generous Christmas gift from God. We had our Santa Christmas with our granddaughter, Emma, in the morning at home. Santa was very good to her. Unknowingly she was rushed through the gift opening as we had planned to take the rest of the gifts to the hospital to have Christmas with Tyler, but they had to rush him back to surgery before we could get there. But this little six year old was so patient and sweet. She entertained us, made us smile, laugh and comforted us. She had her Christmas lunch out of a vending machine (which was something very new and exciting to her as very seldom gets pop or junk food so this was quite the adventure) and she thought it was the funniest picnic. After Tyler was back in his room (one hour for surgery, four hours in recovery due to problems) we were able to see him but our visit was short as he needed to rest and the weather was not getting better. He was at North Memorial which is 45 minutes from our home. Once we arrived at home we threw together our Christmas dinner. It was very noticeably quiet and thoughts were sober at the dinner table and of course there was those empty places at the table that was festively decorated, when all of a sudden this sweet little voice
perks up with this amazing smile and says, “This was the best Christmas ever!” My eyes welled with tears because I was sitting there thinking how this had to be the worst Christmas for Emma sitting there in the waiting room not able to play with her new toys, but our Emma had it right. Tyler came out of this injury without any long term problems. It didn’t matter if we had PB&J sandwiches or prime rib for dinner. It did not matter if we were sitting around the Christmas tree or sitting together in
the ICU waiting room, we were together. And even if it was for that one moment, it was all going to be alright. There was a feeling of peace; we had our Christmas wish that we had prayed for. Thank God for children to open our eyes when we forget. Update: Tyler ended up having a total of five surgeries, most lasting 6-7 hours and was transferred to the U of MN Hospital. He recovered without any vision impairment or suffering any strokes. He is doing amazing.
Merry Christmas
May God’s sweet angels watch over you and yours this holiday season with their glorious light, just as they watched over baby Jesus on that long ago night.
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Weather drawing by Jules Goerges, 1st grade, St. Francis School, Mrs. Smith’s class.
Changing tradition and ditching the Christmas madness Sara Schroeder, 56 Longville Christmas Day was never a relaxing time in my family until my husband and I moved to northern Minnesota. The Christmas day madness for me started as a child and continued until three years ago. As a young girl, my sister and I would open our presents Christmas morning and then rush to go to our grandparents house where our aunts, uncles and cousins would all be.
While that was fun and I did enjoy it, we often didn’t arrive back home until almost bedtime. Then when I met my husband, I adopted his family tradition that started at 10 or 11 a.m. on Christmas morning. Even after we had our two sons, I never thought to ask to change the tradition. Who wants to be known as THAT person? So our Christmas every year consisted of waking up anywhere from 5 to 7 a.m., opening gifts, getting ready to go to my
in-laws for more gift opening and a big lunch, then driving 30 minutes to my grandparents for Christmas with aunts, uncles, my parents, cousins and my cousins’ kids and another big meal and arriving back home late Christmas Day. When our oldest son, his wife and our three grandchildren moved up north to be closer to us, I decided it was time to change tradition. Christmas Eve we go to our son’s home and exchange gifts with him, his wife and their children. We have crack-
ers, meat and cheese, or something else light and easy. We celebrate Christmas with our youngest son whenever his schedule as a captain in the Army permits and when our weather allows us to drive to whichever state he is living in at the time. Christmas Day we receive pictures from our daughter-in-law of our grandchildren with their gifts from Mom, Dad and Santa. They get the whole day to enjoy their gifts and hubby and I get to have a relaxing day without the madness.
Christmas Holly Karlie Mogensen, age 26 Brainerd Holly’s apartment was extra chilly as her mother tucked her into bed. Though they’d spent their evening singing and decorating their Christmas tree, Holly felt uneasy. She’d overheard her mother and the landlord earlier discussing rent. Holly prayed that night that her mother could find happiness again. The next morning, there was no lunch money for Holly. She left for school saddened by a growling stomach. Her frown disappeared as she walked past the antique store and noticed Santa standing outside. She raced over and told Santa about her Christmas wish of seeing her mother happy. Santa listened, then handed Holly a candy cane, wished her “Merry Christmas,” and moved on to the next child. Holly knew she needed to get to school, but as she started to walk away, the glint of sunlight off something on the ground caught her eye. She bent and picked up
the quarter at her feet. Curious, Holly stepped into the antique store. There were all sorts of beautiful treasures, but what caught Holly’s eye was a magnet that had fallen to the floor. It had broken, leaving one half proclaiming “happy” and the other unreadable. She picked up the “happy” half and handed it and her quarter to the clerk. “Is this quarter enough?” Holly asked. “Why do you want this broken thing?” the clerk questioned. “To give to Mom,” Holly said. “To remind her it’s okay to be happy.” “If this little thing can make her happy, you can have it,” the clerk said with a wink. Instead of going to school, Holly ran home and handed her mother the gift. For the first time in weeks, Holly’s mother smiled. Wrapped tight in her mother’s arms, sweet little Holly had a reason to believe in the magic of Christmas again.
Weather drawing by Kortney Klein, 1st grade, Garfield, Mrs. Olson’s class.
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Weather drawing by Kadence Donoso, 3rd grade, Harrison, Mrs. Meyer’s class.
I must tell them Shelley Thelen, age 57 Nisswa Shalom! May the peace of God be upon you all. It’s been a long day out in the fields taking care of my sheep and it’s so nice to have company on my way back to the sheep pen. I was thinking of something today that my Abba told me about many years ago. God created man, Adam, and woman,
Eve. God placed them in a beautiful Garden, directing them to take care of the garden. Adam and Eve enjoyed their days walking in the garden, especially since God walked with them. It was a special time, a time of peace and joy and completeness. Then it happened. Adam and Eve partook in a meal that changed the world. And now, thousands of years later, we are waiting for a Promise to be fulfilled. God made them a promise, to one
day send someone to restore our bond to Him. My job is to take care of the sheep that will give birth to special lambs of the Promise. When the time comes, I take the ewe to a sequestered location. At the moment the lamb is born, I swaddle the lamb in cloths that once were the robes of the priests that worked in the Holy Temple. These lambs have been a substitute for the Promise that God will one day fulfill.
It’s getting late and I must place my sheep in their pen. But, what is this? What is this bright light? And this sound? You have Good News? The Promise has been born? He’s wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger? People must know this! People must know that God has welcomed us back through His Promise! This is Good News! A Savior has been born!
A gift from God Bridget Wells, age 15 Baxter “Are you heading home for the holidays?” the frail old lady sitting next to me on the plane asked. I noticed the rosary she held in her hands. The coloring of the beads had begun to wear off from use. I guess a lot of people need prayers these days. “Yeah,” I replied curtly. I’d had a long week and wasn’t in the mood for conversation. A wide grin formed on her wrinkled face. “Praise God for the holidays,” she said. “How beautiful the joy He brings us this time of year.” I nodded. Tears welled in my eyes, though, as I thought of my mother. She’d been struggling with Alzheimer’s for three years now and I feared what this Christmas would bring. The woman smiled with empathy. Placing her hand on mine she whispered, “Things will work out.” We parted ways exiting the plane, but I found myself standing with her yet again to receive our luggage. “So where’s home for you?” Her tone was so sweet that I couldn’t help but smile. “Brainerd,” I replied, so happy to be home. “Me too. I wish you and your family a Merry Christmas.” She smiled again. “And I’ll be praying for your mother.” “Wait, how do you know about — ” But she’d already turned away, disappearing into the crowd. As she left I noticed the oddest thing; she never collected any luggage. As my father and I pulled into the driveway, I noticed his elderly neighbor struggling to shovel the snow on his sidewalk. Grabbing a shovel, I made my way over to help him. “Bless you, dear. Thank you.” His voice sounded tired, but happy. When we finished, he invited me in for cocoa, and as he warmed the kettle I studied the pictures on the mantle. A photo of him and his wife caught my eye and I gasped. It couldn’t be, but there was no doubt about it. It was her, that sweet old lady from the plane. “Is this your wife?” I asked. “Yes,” he replied, smiling sadly. “She passed away last year.” And in that moment I knew that all that I was going through would work out, would come to pass. For God had given me a beautiful gift that Christmas. He had given me an angel.
Weather drawing by Brayden Richardson, 3rd grade, Harrison, Mrs. Meyer’s class.
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