Familiar Joy

Childhood is wet cement. It hardens through the years and lingers as indelible memories in some remote place waiting to be rediscovered.  The molded  impression a thing makes on you as a youngster remains intact after cobwebs fill the corners and fade the details with the passage of time. When you rediscover it and touch it with wonder and nostalgia, your heart explodes with familiar joy.

The thought came and went too quick for me to catch it. It was two weeks ago when lots of Thanksgiving plans were crowding my mind. By the time I talked with Dad after Thanksgiving, all I could remember was that I had a question for him, but I couldn’t remember what it was.

The desire to try and track down the Christmas album we treasured as kids did resurface, though, once the holiday tunes were wafting through the air full force.

I didn’t have much to go on: just I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus in a voice not easily forgotten and a faint memory of a story about an inspiring conversation between a Christmas tree and Santa. Dad was not much help — he didn’t remember a thing. I inquired with my mom and brother. Mom remembered vaguely, but nothing concrete to work with. Wayne? He just wanted me to find it.

I googled and youtubed for two days. Bits and pieces looked familiar, but I couldn’t be sure. Then yesterday morning, mom called and said she woke up with the title of the story right there in her head, out of nowhere, The Littlest Christmas Tree. One more quick search turned up the whole album, and vivid memories of long-ago Christmas joy took me places I hadn’t been in decades.

It was released in 1952, a full twenty years before I would encounter it and fall in love with this image and the accompanying songs and stories. It was worth the effort for a heart exploding with familiar joy.

It makes me think of the wise men, who didn’t have much to go on either, just a hunch and a curious star shining brighter than the rest. They googled the scriptures and youtubed long-forgotten prophets. They pieced their clues together enough to follow to where their faith would lead them. They found their Christmas treasure, the Promise of old wrapped in new flesh. It filled them with joy and took them back to long-remembered promises that were before their eyes anew and filling their ears again, but in a whole new way.

Are you seeking something old to make Christmas new this season, or are you mindlessly following a familiar path to the manger and Christmas morn? One takes a little more effort than the other, but it leads to a rediscovery that explodes in your heart with familiar joy.

For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. (Isaiah 55:12)

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4 thoughts on “Familiar Joy

  1. Tammy Davis

    Memories of Christmas’ long ago, still thrill my heart. And listening to various songs still transport me to such a magical time. Thanks for posting. Isn’t that what all of God’s word does for us. . .transports us to when Jesus will come again? Even the whole earth will cry out!

  2. LaurieLaurie Adams

    Christmas memories….whether you are making new ones or reflecting on the old ones is one of the greatest gifts we could give someone for Christmas. Just like the gifts that the wisemen held,the memories we hold are so very precious! ((blessings))