Our first Christmas in Bavaria (Southern Germany) was different. You were two months old and we had just moved there two weeks before to join a certain young soldier who had been stationed there since you were 3 days old. We were poor, and lived in an apartment a block from the Blue Danube, above a teenage discotheque, next to a couple of prostitutes, Frederika and Eva. It was all we could do to get oil for the heater to keep warm, and when we would get the oil, it would explode all over, and I would have to clean black soot from the walls. I had to boil water on the stove to be able to wash cloth diapers in the bathtub. Every other day for dinner we had a 15 cent package of macaroni and cheese to share, along with a small package of frozen peas. (Those were the good old days. I was down to 94 pounds in 2 months!)
So obviously we couldn’t afford a Christmas tree. But then. On the 23rd we went to a Christmas tree lot and they gave us one of the trees that hadn’t been sold. Maybe it wasn’t breathtaking, and yet to us, it absolutely was. I strung popcorn and made garlands out of paper chains. What could be more beautiful? The downside was that even though we were together for our first family Christmas, our Soldier Boy had volunteered to take on someone else’s guard duty Christmas Eve night and Christmas Day because we really needed the money. Here we were next door to the Black Forest and the Land of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, and our reality was less fairy tale, more a teeny tiny side of grim. So the new momma and baby spent some more quality time together and we celebrated a little when he got back that night. All's well that ends well, right?
Our second Christmas in Germany was a little more involved than our first rudimentary one on many counts. Another year, another new baby, another Christmas tree. But it was different in the respect that Dad was able to be home with us this time. That was our extravagance. I was excited to be able to have our little family together for the Holiday, but I started remembering the year before, how it was to miss him, and to think of how lonely and cold it had to have been for him to spend this night in the dark, in a cramped, cold guardhouse. This year we were so abundantly blessed. To have him not be in Viet Nam. To have him home with us. How lucky can you get? I felt so spoiled this time.
And that made me think of the guardhouse, just a little box of a building with hardly room enough for one person to turn around. Who would be spending that special night there this year? Of course, it wasn't on my mind until it actually was Christmas Eve, and rather late at that, so we jumped at this sudden inspiration and got into action spontaneously. Better late than never. I spent the waning hours of the evening making cookies for the soldiers who would be huddled in the tiny guard booths throughout the base. We packed our babies into our ancient VW Beetle and took off at midnight to make our rounds.
Our second Christmas in Germany was a little more involved than our first rudimentary one on many counts. Another year, another new baby, another Christmas tree. But it was different in the respect that Dad was able to be home with us this time. That was our extravagance. I was excited to be able to have our little family together for the Holiday, but I started remembering the year before, how it was to miss him, and to think of how lonely and cold it had to have been for him to spend this night in the dark, in a cramped, cold guardhouse. This year we were so abundantly blessed. To have him not be in Viet Nam. To have him home with us. How lucky can you get? I felt so spoiled this time.
And that made me think of the guardhouse, just a little box of a building with hardly room enough for one person to turn around. Who would be spending that special night there this year? Of course, it wasn't on my mind until it actually was Christmas Eve, and rather late at that, so we jumped at this sudden inspiration and got into action spontaneously. Better late than never. I spent the waning hours of the evening making cookies for the soldiers who would be huddled in the tiny guard booths throughout the base. We packed our babies into our ancient VW Beetle and took off at midnight to make our rounds.
Jingle Bells! Once we were on our way, we did pause just a second to wonder if these guys with rifles would mistake us for Santa...or Russian spies. We were in the middle of the Cold War, and you never know. Deep breath. We pressed on. It was cold and dark (imagine that) and it felt amazing to surprise these guys who were so alone, and probably a tad homesick on Christmas Eve, and see how grateful they were for such a bit of unexpected thoughtfulness. Off the wall. Hardly Bob Hope and the USO, but still.... Probably most of the soldiers on duty were single, missing loved ones far, far way. I'm sure it just seemed that way, but the stars appeared so much brighter to me then. Dazzling. O Holy Night!
You know, it was such a simple thing to remember the lonely that night, but that experience will always remain one of my all time favorite Christmas memories. I learned all over again how a little kindness goes an awfully long way, and I have always been grateful that over the years our whole family enjoyed nothing more than our tradition of Ding Dong Ditching when leaving goodies at Christmastime or throughout the year as Family Home Evening Phantoms.. Who knows, maybe those seeds were planted one night way back when, in the far away and long ago.
You know, it was such a simple thing to remember the lonely that night, but that experience will always remain one of my all time favorite Christmas memories. I learned all over again how a little kindness goes an awfully long way, and I have always been grateful that over the years our whole family enjoyed nothing more than our tradition of Ding Dong Ditching when leaving goodies at Christmastime or throughout the year as Family Home Evening Phantoms.. Who knows, maybe those seeds were planted one night way back when, in the far away and long ago.
HO HO HO!
1 comment:
You have always had that innate desire to serve others. So funny-I had been thinking lately of our ding dong ditching days-the good memories and traditions that I want to pass on with Mattie. So neat hearing about you and Dad doing these things as a young married couple!
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