At the age of two, I can remember going out with my family and being pulled on a sled around the small town we lived in.  Our town consisted of about twenty blocks and we went out to look at the beautiful lights everyone had up.   We usually ended up joining a group that was going around singing and would end up at the local church for cookies and hot cocoa.  My small eyes would widen while looking at the lights blink off and on.

At the age of ten, I can remember having our Sunday School Program on Christmas Eve.  The lines I would have to memorize were a miracle in itself.   At eleven on Christmas Eve, I would be standing saying those lines while wishing all the time that I was snuggled in my warm bed at home.

At the age of sixteen, I can remember being invited to my first Christmas party and as I walked there through the snow I wondered what was expected of people who went to Christmas parties.  As I got closer to the house, I started to wonder about the patches of “yellow” snow I was seeing and finally when I arrived I saw some males running out of the house to go over to the neighbor’s house to make the “yellow” snow.   With my mouth opened wide I turned around and went back home.  The next day at church I found out that the party had been raided and several of the teenagers were arrested.  I knew deep down that I was glad that I hadn’t attended the party because my parents would have killed me.

At the age of twenty, I can remember sitting in the pews watching someone else children saying their memorized lines and wondering just how long this program was going to last.  Thoughts of getting out of this cold church and back into my warm bed made me smile as I looked around at the other people in attend.

At the age of twenty, I can remember my fondest memory happening about halfway through the program, the spot light was focused on one small child.  He started to speak telling us about the Wise Men and the birth of Jesus Christ.   Tears started to form in my eyes as I sat there in the dark listening to this small voice telling me things I should already know.  My heart beat fast and one single tear rolled down my check as I promised myself to re-new my faith to Jesus Christ.   This little child added to remember to say a special “Happy Birthday” to Jesus and to ask Jesus back into our hearts.   To show love and respect to everyone on the special day tomorrow and days that would follow.

As I woke the next morning, I spoke out loud “Dearest Jesus, Please come into my life and heart.  Guide my footsteps through this rough old world and help me show love to everyone I met.  I have faith in Jesus that He will help me get back onto God’s planned path for me.  In Jesus name, I pray this!  Amen!” 

All over our little town you could hear family singing “Happy Birthday Jesus!” with love in their heart and a smile on their lips.