The older I get, the more fondly I remember the Christmases of my childhood. A simpler time. I especially remember when I was 12. Our pastor and the kids from church ages 8 and up went caroling. One house even gave us hot chocolate. At our candlelight service a friend joined me in a duet of “Silver Bells.” We both remember all the words to this day.

On Christmas morning I got a matching robe, PJ’s and slippers. My two brothers got an erector set and Lincoln logs. We were thrilled! I helped Mom set the dining room table with the good china. G’ma and G’pa came and we kids got to sit at the grown-ups’ table. That was a really big deal! Even washing the dishes later was a fun time.

The Wise Men brought gifts for Jesus’ birth, and the news went out across all of Israel. In the ancient Hebrew it’s “Joy for the birth of the Anointed One.” In our English it’s “Merry Christmas.” But today the politically correct have convinced stores to train employees to say, “Happy holidays” instead. A few years ago a major store CEO actually refused to allow the Salvation Army Santas at their doors. He said the donated money could be spent in their stores instead. Pure greed! Public condemnation was loud and quick and the store apologized. But the damage was done; they lost lots of customers, including this writer.

It seems like we have to have more … bigger … better … and more expensive than everyone else. Will we ever be content? I wonder. I find it very interesting that my dearest Christmas memory in all my 70+ years is the Christmas I went caroling, sang in church on Christmas Eve, had a fun family dinner and got one present … one!

You see, it’s not about how many presents you get. And it’s not about how much money is spent on you. Christmas is about much more than any of that.

Merry Christmas.

Dottie Flaugher

Wilmington