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Astrid Sieger

Christmas and shopping/spending money have become synonymous.  Every decade it becomes more brutal, as we rack our brains and our wallets to get the coolest, most enviable gift for friends, family and even colleagues.

This year, as I was making my annual Christmas list I was grateful for one thing, the family present drawing.  In my large family, which grows larger with each wedding and birth of a child, it is a blessing to be able to buy gifts for just one sibling (and their respective family).  Browsing malls, catalogues and online stores I began to wonder if I would need to take out a loan to pay my regular monthly bills.  Finally glassy-eyed I stared out the window, trying to think of my most memorable Christmas and how I could incorporate what made IT memorable into my holiday this year.

I found my most memorable Christmas happened in about 1982 or 1983.  I was 9 or 10 years old and my family had moved to Virginia from the West, were I grew up.  Virginia was not a good move for us and my parents decided to Go West! again.  Unfortunatly they decided they had to be back in Texas by the start of the New Year.  So they loaded the U-Haul, piled us into the station wagon and we headed out December 23^th. 

This year turned out to be one of the coldest the Mid-west seen in a couple of decades.  By 3 p.m. on December 24^th (the night my Austrian immigrant family traditionally celebrates Christmas) the snow in Nebraska was blowing heavily across the freeway.  Our brown station wagon and the U-Haul were the only vehicles on the road and my mom began to suffer from what is known as snow blindness.  We finally pulled over at a motel in Lincoln around 4:00 p.m.  We tumbled out of the car bundled up in socks for mittens and underwear for hats (hey, we were from Dallas, we didn’t know about dressing for winter!) My parents hustled us into our hotel room where my sisters and I inevitably proceeded to make ourselves comfortable and engaged in a game of “who can jump highest on the bed.”

It had occurred to us that Santa might not find us there in a motel in Lincoln, Nebraska.  It probably worried the “little one’s” more than me.  I just remember being glad my mom was okay and feeling safe that my dad would navigate us “home” safely in the coming days.  My parents were good at many things, things that make growing up easier for a kid.  If we were worried about not getting Christmas that year our worries were unfounded. 

In a miracle display my parents left the room to see if they could find something for dinner and came back with sandwiches and drinks (graciously provided by the motel for weary travelers). They also brought in bags we weren’t allowed to look in.  We did have to go out in the hallway for a while and when were called back into the room it was dark except for a lit red candle placed in the middle of the table with a few little gifts scattered around it.  We sang “Silent Night” (in German) and then we were given our little gifts.  I don’t remember what I got, or what anyone else got.  I don’t know how my parents got those few things together in all the hurry of the impending trip.  I do know that Christmas is my most memorable; not because of the presents but because, in a situation where confusion or even fear could have reigned, there was a peace and warmth.  My parents kept our traditional celebration and we felt the security of love and family.  What more could you really ask for at Christmas-time!

Regardless of what religion you have or what your season traditions are keep in mind that those things, love and family, are the true gifts we seek and no amount of money can buy those.