The Christmas Tree
After all the feasting on turkey, dressing, giblet gravy, macaroni and cheese, potatoes, and so many desserts we get fat just from looking at them, we came home and put up a Christmas Tree. This is a pretty common occurrence around the country, but for me it is the first Christmas tree that has been in my house in forty-three years and the very first for my children.
One of my favorite photos in my mother’s collection shows a tiny me sitting in a red rocking chair under the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. I am wearing a brown and green striped long sleeve shirt and a pair of brown jeans that appear faded in the picture. My grandmother is standing above me. She looks like me or I look like her, but I cannot remember her …show more content…
I hadn’t asked for a doll, but my mother made sure I had every doll that came on the market. She was making up for her only having one doll when she was little by buying me baby come back, baby that away, rub-a-dub dolly, and any other cutesy name you can think of. The doll I got that year wasn’t anything special except it was big, almost bigger than me.
The only thing I remember about that doll is that she wore a pretty, red cape and Mama let me give her away. We had gone to visit with cousins to see what they had got from Santa. Jennifer, my cousin, who was only a couple of months older than me saw my baby doll and fell in love with her. Jennifer hadn’t gotten a doll for Christmas. Her daddy wasn’t working so her Christmas present that year was a coloring book and crayons. Before we left I asked Mama if I could give Jennifer my new doll. Mama said yes and later told me how proud it made her that I was willing to give up my new doll for Jennifer.
Christmas was a time of celebration for my family until 1973 when we moved to Georgia. My grandfather, a preacher, moved us from our small backwards Alabama community to a much larger, more sophisticated suburb of Atlanta, Georgia. While the house we moved into wasn’t much different than what we were accustomed to in Alabama, the church folks were and, for the next nine years, I was convinced that not celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ was a doctrinal belief of the Primitive Baptist …show more content…
He believed Christmas was a Pagan holiday and that it should not be celebrated. His belief went further stating no day should be celebrated and we lost birthdays as well. The only days he allowed us to participate in were Fourth of July and Thanksgiving. There were years though that we didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving at home because he took us to church citing that if we were truly giving thanks we should do it at church.
We moved back to Alabama when I was thirteen years old and it was then that I found out all Primitive Baptist did not shun the celebration which we had turned our backs on so long ago. It came to my attention that even all Georgia Primitive Baptist did not hold to the same beliefs my grandfather had adopted when he met those sophisticated church members in and around the Atlanta area.
Still, stanchly raised with the idea that Christmas was Paganism and ungodly, I convinced my husband when we married to put that celebration away and follow us in the truth. I believed that those who celebrated Christmas were comparable to devil worshippers. How could true Christians not understand the roots of this wicked holiday that masqueraded as good and
After all the feasting on turkey, dressing, giblet gravy, macaroni and cheese, potatoes, and so many desserts we get fat just from looking at them, we came home and put up a Christmas Tree. This is a pretty common occurrence around the country, but for me it is the first Christmas tree that has been in my house in forty-three years and the very first for my children.
One of my favorite photos in my mother’s collection shows a tiny me sitting in a red rocking chair under the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. I am wearing a brown and green striped long sleeve shirt and a pair of brown jeans that appear faded in the picture. My grandmother is standing above me. She looks like me or I look like her, but I cannot remember her …show more content…
I hadn’t asked for a doll, but my mother made sure I had every doll that came on the market. She was making up for her only having one doll when she was little by buying me baby come back, baby that away, rub-a-dub dolly, and any other cutesy name you can think of. The doll I got that year wasn’t anything special except it was big, almost bigger than me.
The only thing I remember about that doll is that she wore a pretty, red cape and Mama let me give her away. We had gone to visit with cousins to see what they had got from Santa. Jennifer, my cousin, who was only a couple of months older than me saw my baby doll and fell in love with her. Jennifer hadn’t gotten a doll for Christmas. Her daddy wasn’t working so her Christmas present that year was a coloring book and crayons. Before we left I asked Mama if I could give Jennifer my new doll. Mama said yes and later told me how proud it made her that I was willing to give up my new doll for Jennifer.
Christmas was a time of celebration for my family until 1973 when we moved to Georgia. My grandfather, a preacher, moved us from our small backwards Alabama community to a much larger, more sophisticated suburb of Atlanta, Georgia. While the house we moved into wasn’t much different than what we were accustomed to in Alabama, the church folks were and, for the next nine years, I was convinced that not celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ was a doctrinal belief of the Primitive Baptist …show more content…
He believed Christmas was a Pagan holiday and that it should not be celebrated. His belief went further stating no day should be celebrated and we lost birthdays as well. The only days he allowed us to participate in were Fourth of July and Thanksgiving. There were years though that we didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving at home because he took us to church citing that if we were truly giving thanks we should do it at church.
We moved back to Alabama when I was thirteen years old and it was then that I found out all Primitive Baptist did not shun the celebration which we had turned our backs on so long ago. It came to my attention that even all Georgia Primitive Baptist did not hold to the same beliefs my grandfather had adopted when he met those sophisticated church members in and around the Atlanta area.
Still, stanchly raised with the idea that Christmas was Paganism and ungodly, I convinced my husband when we married to put that celebration away and follow us in the truth. I believed that those who celebrated Christmas were comparable to devil worshippers. How could true Christians not understand the roots of this wicked holiday that masqueraded as good and