Friday, December 26, 2008

Where's The Star?

High up on our Christmas tree, near the top, if you closely you may see it. I am talking about the star.

It may be the tiniest ornament on our tree. The little star is probably an inch and a half in diameter. The star was made in a Sunday School class by our little girl forty years ago in Southside, Virginia.

Every Christmas without fail our daughter breezes into the house with her own two daughters. After lugging in the suitcases, pillows, the dog and presents she asks the same question. "Where's the star?" Christmas would not be Christmas without her star. I used to think it was foolish request, hanging on to that old homemade star. But I have changed my mind.

We all need some kind of a star to tie us to back there. Something that will stir our memories andl send us back to our past and our roots. What is your star? It could be anything.

I have a buddy who keeps high on a shelf an old threadbare teddy bear. His Daddy bought it for him at the fair years ago.They stood before a tent looking at all the stuffed animals and the boy pointed to a bear. His Daddy shook his head. The little boy burst into tears and snubbed and snubbed. Finally the Father pointed to the bear, took out his billfold and handed the clerk the money. That Daddy has beeen dead for years yet that old teddy bear is one of my friend's most treasured possessions.

I have another friend who kept on the bookcase in his office a pouch of chewing tobacco. He grew up in a tiny cotton mill village and smoke breaks were few and far between. Almost everybody chewed tobacco. The man has written a score of books. He taught hundreds of students in his distinguished career. Yet that pouch of tobacco was always a reminder of how far he had come and how grateful he was.

Christmas is memory time. No wonder we keep playing "Silver Bells," Silent Night," and "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas." They strike something deep within us. Faces from the past loom up. We remember and in remembering we are glad.

Some hang the symbol of their recollections on some tree. Some pack those precious times away in tissue. Others just keep their treasure tucked away in some corner of their hearts.

"Where's the star?" Good question. Unpack it gently. Hang it high in your own personal way. And remember, remember, remember.

1 comment:

  1. It may look like an ordinary rock to me, but I carry a magic rock in my pocket. I've been carrying it for five years and plan to carry it the rest of my life.

    Don't we all need something magic in our pocket?