For my sisters, brother, and I, Christmas morning had some unwritten ceremonies. I'm not even sure if our parents know about some of these traditions we had.
The first child to wake up after midnight had passed would quietly wake the others. We two boys were across the hall from the girls, and both bedrooms were upstairs. Down the stairs and to the right, the Christmas tree waited. We would all stand on the upper landing, and from there we could see our stockings lying on the bottom stairs, the littlest stocking on the bottom stair, the next size up on the next stair up, and so on. (They were laid on the stair because the stockings were too heavy to be held up by the masking tape we had hung them with the previous night!)
Then we'd line up, littlest to biggest, and go down the stairs single file. We stopped on our own stair, looking over the Christmas scene that had appeared in our living room, then we'd break file and rush to check our presents. Each of us would have been given an unwrapped present in the night, which we could play with until 6 o' clock, when we were allowed to wake our parents and unwrap the rest. The stockings were also opened while we waited for the grown-ups.
Those are some sweet memories. But a sweeter memory was created much more recently. Only two Christmases ago, I participated in a live Nativity. Beautiful music and soft lighting blended with carefully costumed volunteers to reverently re-enact the Christ Child's first night on earth. This picture was taken of this year's live Nativity. (Without me, I'm in Georgia, this Nativity was in California.)
I was dressed as a wise man. After each song from the CD player finished, we three men would shift places, each presenting his gift to the Savior in his turn, bowing down, holding still until the time came to rotate again.. So, about once every fifteen minutes or so, I would be almost moved to tears as I offered my little box to the Lord of All. I was able to use that time to think and pray and wonder at the love of a perfect Father, who sent a perfect Son for me and my whole family.
As a duly ordained minister of the gospel, I testify that God, our Heavenly Father, sent His Son to earth. His Son, Jesus Christ, lived a perfect life, and then sacrificed His life for us all. He now lives, and stands at the right hand of God. I bear this testimony in the sacred name of my Savior, Jesus Christ, amen.
A mark of a good person is generosity. I am struck by the sheer volume of humanitarian service that the people of The Church of Jesus Christ provide to their neighbors. Add to that the digital waves of teaching material, in the forms of music, video, and an extensively cross-referenced online form of the scriptures.
