Hair on Fire: A Heartwarming & Humorous Christmas Memoir

Introduction

Christmas—just this one word conjures up so many images and memories: a snow-covered pasture, pristine and shiny white; caroling on a cold winter night, hands and feet numb, yet oblivious to it because of the joy and laughter; and a bois‐ terous family gathering to prepare for Santa Claus.

In December 2022, my husband, Lin, and I traveled to Italy, Spain, and Portugal and saw the decorations and celebrations they had prepared for their own traditional Christmas. People displayed Nativity sets, creches, freely. Santa Claus appeared everywhere. Red, white, and green decorations covered windows and counters in stores. People smiled when I wished them “Merry Christmas” in their native language. My joy around Christmas only grew as I realized how big our world is, yet how much we are alike!

As we traveled around the three countries, surrounded by festive white lights and the locals’ holiday cheer, I was inspired. The moment we came home, I began to compile my favorite memories and thoughts about this holy day. That’s how this book came to be. It spans from my rural country childhood to my adult life in a variety of cities and countries, yet each place had its joyous memories.

What does hair on "re have to do with Christmas? It’s one of the many memorable childhood Christmases I’ve had in my life, and it’s a memory that still makes me chuckle. I was "five or six years old and an angel in our annual church Christmas program. I had never had a part in the program before to this size, so I felt privileged and excited to be included. Each angel carried a candle, and that’s where the mishap took place. Afterward, we went on as if nothing happened. I had forgotten this incident for many years, then in writing my "first book, This Tumbleweed Landed, I wrote a poem about the Branson church, and up came the memory! It still makes me laugh with the outcome—resolved effortlessly and matter-of- factly. No one was hurt, no blood spilled, and things were handled quickly. The whole episode embodies a rancher’s attitude toward life.

Traveling around in 2022, making new memories, served to bring these other core memories to the forefront. None are better than the other, but I do have my favorites!

Several of the pieces in here are stories and poetry I’ve written over the years in my weekly blog. A few of them were included in my chapbook, A Country Christmas, which received positive reviews. A chapbook is a short booklet of 20- 40 pages. I realized at that point my stories had universal inter‐ est. A Country Christmas was mostly made up of my child‐ hood memories. As an adult, I moved to other towns and cities and obtained other precious memories and added traditions. My world travel last year enlarged my Christmas memories even more, and I decided it was time for a new book to be born.

Much of this book is original, made up of a mix of narrative and poetry, but there are a few poems that appeared in previous books. I love storytelling, and the differences in how the narrative and poems convey the feelings, thoughts, and impact of the memory, and I love the variety of it all.

In a couple of the readings, I pondered those familiar two people I had heard about all my life who were present that Christmas day so long ago: Mary and Joseph. I wrote about walking beside this couple to see what the journey to Bethlehem felt like.

As you read my memories, I hope it sparks joyful remembrances for you—let your child revel in the holiday of all holi‐ days. The readings stand alone, so you can read this book from cover to cover or select a topic that speaks to you!

Are you ready to welcome the Holy Family into your home tonight? You may have a Nativity set up in your home, but are you ready to o"er Mary and Joseph a place in your heart to birth the Christ child? I hope you do!

Merry Christmas!

Chapter One - MARY AND JOSEPH: WALK WITH THEM!

On this day, many years ago, pregnant Mary and Joseph traveled to Bethlehem because of Caesar Augustus’s decree. It was only ninety-three miles, about a two and a half hour trip in a car, but remember, Mary rode a donkey. Joseph walked. I wondered what it would be

like walking with them and imagined myself joining this couple and their unusual life-changing experience!

It had to be a struggle for Mary—and for Joseph as he watched her. A struggle for both. I watched them—Mary absorbed in her pregnancy and this ordeal, and Joseph stressed as he watched Mary.

Their baby was due at any time. In fact, Mary had warned him she felt the event they had been waiting for was almost here!

The donkey’s slow pace rocks Mary into a lulled state. Her head bobs, but she is safe because Joseph keeps his hand on her leg to keep her from falling o". The silence surrounds them. I smell the strong pungent donkey odor that lingers in the air. He brays, asking to stop, so we do. I respect their privacy and keep my distance, but I marvel as Joseph cares for her.

With Joseph’s help, Mary rolls o" the donkey and discreetly relieves herself in the bushes. Joseph provides a small drink for the tired donkey and a bit of hay. He also quenches his and Mary’s thirst, and they share a piece of bread to stay them. I grab my canteen and drink with them. My stomach growls as I forgot to bring any food for this journey. They hear the ominous rumble and share their meager snack with me.

As they negotiate getting Mary back up on the donkey, they laugh at the absurdity of their trip and her awkward size. And once again, they continue toward Bethlehem, resuming the rhythm of the donkey’s gait. Watching their total acceptance of this needless trip, I want to help, but it’s my job to just be there with them, a silent witness!

That beautiful part of the day comes—the link between darkness and light. This makes the travel much more treacherous. Joesph stumbles often, catching himself. He can’t fall; he must make sure Mary's safe on their donkey. A couple times, I brace Joseph so he can keep going. I have to assist him because

of the dark, because of the mission, because of the precious cargo he needs to protect.

Darkness comes, and a beautiful canopy of stars twinkle above us. One predominant star shines brighter and brighter, almost like it is guiding them to their destination. Then Mary’s scream scares Joseph and me, and he knows the time is approaching too fast—way too fast. But she settles back into the rhythm of the road, and he knows she hides any discom‐ fort from him, to protect him.

We haven’t arrived yet in crowded Bethlehem. Because of their slow travel, we will arrive late in the evening, and they’ll have a new problem: none of the inns will have room. But right now we are working our way to Bethlehem, anticipating what’s ahead.

Chapter Two - ADVENT: WHY ANTICIPATE CHRISTMAS?

Yes, it’s only one day a year, but celebrating the whole season leading up to that day ful!lls me as an adult— and as an eternal child.

My memories bolster me as I grow older. Each time, a speci!c event comes up, I rush for my computer to capture the thought and the feeling. I hope that enchantment never dies.

As an Episcopalian Christian, I take part in the season before Christmas, Advent. Surprisingly, I have never written about Advent, the weeks leading up to Christmas.

When I first became familiar with this season, I jumped in full force. Every year, I put out the Advent wreath. It held four candles—mine were purple—in a circle with a white one in the middle, the Christ candle.

In the morning before work, I lit !rst one candle the !rst week, then two, then three, and then four for the four weeks of Advent and read a corresponding prayer. When Christmas Eve came, I was supposed to light the white candle in the middle, but often I forgot because of the busyness of the day. Still, I enjoyed the anticipatory energy this tradition gave me.

Then, for many years, I drifted away from this observance. I divorced my ex-husband and began a sad seven years of my life, basically turning my back on God.

After twenty more years of being angry at God for my divorce and the loss of my adopted child, I returned to my God, cautiously searching for a church. Advent had come and gone for so many years, I felt no connection to it anymore.

Every year around Thanksgiving, a faint remembrance of Advent swept over me, but my anger and pain won out. Then I found my present church, Hope in the Desert Episcopal Church, and a Higher Power I could work with through my recovery programs. Advent began to seep back into my life ever so slowly. The familiar quiet celebration of past years won out as I rediscovered the joy of Advent and the anticipation of Christmas anew. What I enjoyed the most was the focused anticipation of the birth of Christ, again, this year, not 2,000 years ago, but this year!

Two years ago, a friend from recovery asked if I wanted to do a phone group Advent study of Father Richard Rohr’s book, Preparing for Christmas: Daily Meditations for Advent. What an inspiring experience that was. In this short book,

Father Rohr shares daily Scripture readings, a short commen‐ tary, and then a re"ection question that helped me interact deeply with the theme of the day. I loved the focus on this instead of the commercialism in our world!

So last year, I reread the Rohr book by myself and once again enjoyed the anticipation of the birth of Christ.

I haven’t done the Advent wreath recently, but maybe next year!

If you’ve never done it, now might be the time to give it a whirl.

Chapter 3 - CHRISTMAS IS HERE!

The gifts are wrapped; cards and packages sent; the baking is done. Now is a lull. I like this time before the rush of the actual holiday.

The child in me remembers all those great Christmases and the anticipation. It was the anticipation that grabbed me —waiting, waiting, waiting! And wondering if my dream would come true!

Traditions resounded in my childhood home: church program, program at school, and one of my favorites was shopping from the catalogs for months before Christmas.

Montgomery Ward—we called it Monkey Ward. I couldn’t wait for the thick catalog to arrive. I would dog-ear the pages of what stuck out to me, revisiting that magical volume often. Then I would wait, wondering if I would get what I wanted.

Did you always get what you wanted? I didn’t. Looking back, I now see I savor the anticipation as an adult, but I focused on the gifts as a child.

As an adult, I added more traditions and memories like the Advent observance and Christmas Eve Midnight Mass. I have learned: the gifts matter, yes, but the magic of the season lived on, no matter what gift I received.