Reprinted from the Winter Mobius 1998
Christmas time is a time to remember…
…the memories of our youth.
For myself, it was the snow and glow of the blue candles during cold winter nights; of receiving and American Flexible Flyer and sledding down snowy hills or streets of Brookside Farms – a community of homes set I the hills of rural farmland outside of Pittsburgh, PA.
I remember the ice crystals on windows and long icicles growing longer from the roof of your house as we walked in the crunching snow. We made many a snowman by rolling a snowball which got bigger and bigger like a giant wad of cotton, and then patting the edges down to form a ball.
The trips to my Aunt Lena’s were special because she was a wonderful woman who made cookies and cider and had a beautiful tree with old German ornaments sparkling and glowing from the strings of Christmas lights.
My brother and I always had a train under our tree and miniature village all lit up. I can still smell the pine wood my father and I used to cut up so that we could make bridges and all sorts of things.
As long as I can remember, we always had a doggie of some type. There was Patsy the 1st, a Boston Bull, then three other Patsies which were collie-shepherd mixes. I shall never forget them for theirs was a special furry kind of love.
Those times may be gone, but memories are not.
May we fill our lives year round with wonderful memories so that we never grow too old to dream.
Lots of love, Rev. Donald Schwartz
Comentarios