The holiday season is a time of great expectations, which often are not fulfilled. When one experiences a special Christmas, it is a gift of great value. I have had three such Christmases.
Christmas near Oswego, N.Y., 65 years ago: In 1958, I lived in a very rural area and decided to go out into the woods to cut down a Christmas tree. I was 14 and very confident. As the afternoon drew on, I kept walking to find the right tree, not realizing how long I had been out in the cold. After awhile, it began to get dark, but I couldn’t go back empty-handed. I wandered around but still hadn’t found that “perfect” tree. It got darker and darker, and I was clearly lost and still had no tree. As things got bleaker, I saw my grandfather coming through the woods. He had tracked my route. He helped me find a tree, but more importantly, he got me home safely.
Christmas in Thailand, 50 years ago: For nearly half of 1973, I had flown combat missions over Cambodia during the Vietnam Air War. On Christmas day, I felt disconnected. I was rootless and did not understand why. There is no such thing as a good Christmas in a war zone. To celebrate in my small way, I had a tree, presents, and homemade cookies from my wife. My uncle had sent an audiotape that the family had made earlier in the year at a gathering. I sat in my room — listening to the tape, eating those special cookies, looking at that tree sent lovingly to me by my wife, and for a few moments was almost home.
Christmas in Canandaigua, 20 years ago: Like most years, the holiday season 2003 began with much activity. Our younger daughter was working at a daycare in Rochester at the time. The week before Thanksgiving, a mosquito bit her, an odd thing so late in the year. She began to feel ill over Thanksgiving weekend. By the following Monday, my wife took her to the emergency room, and they determined that the brain and its covering — the Menges — had become inflamed or infected (Meningoencephalitis). She rapidly regressed mentally to an infant the following week. My wife and I were under great stress; all the everyday joy of the season evaporated. Yet, slowly but steadily, she began to improve through the skills of the medical team that helped her.
She regained her mental capacity, and by the week before Christmas, she was moved to a rehab center. On Christmas Eve, she came home. My wife remained with her, and my older daughter and I attended our church’s Christmas Eve service. As we sang the old, well-loved carols, my daughter sat there softly weeping, and I admit to not having a dry eye. The heavy weight of the month’s events lifted from our shoulders.
If there is a lesson from these three events, it is that getting caught up in everything the secular world says is necessary during the holidays is easy, but these things are temporary. It takes a unique, unexpected gift to make you understand what is really important. One needs to recognize and accept that gift for a really special Christmas.
John E. Norvell is a frequent contributor to the Times op-ed section. He is a retired Air Force lieutenant colonel, decorated air combat veteran, and former assistant professor of military history at the Air Force Academy. His F-4 flying memoir, “Fighter ‘Gator,” is available on Amazon and other online sites. A 1966 graduate of Hobart, and a former alumni director at the college, he lives in Canandaigua. Reach John at jenorv66@gmail.com.
GUEST APPEARANCE: Unexpected gifts make for special Christmas memories
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23.12.2023
The holiday season is a time of great expectations, which often are not fulfilled. When one experiences a special Christmas, it is a gift of great value. I have had three such Christmases.
Christmas near Oswego, N.Y., 65 years ago: In 1958, I lived in a very rural area and decided to go out into the woods to cut down a Christmas tree. I was 14 and very confident. As the afternoon drew on, I kept walking to find the right tree, not realizing how long I had been out in the cold. After awhile, it began to get dark, but I couldn’t go back empty-handed. I wandered around but still hadn’t found that “perfect” tree. It got darker and darker, and I was clearly lost and still had no tree. As things got bleaker, I saw my grandfather coming through the woods. He had tracked my route. He helped me find a tree, but more importantly, he got me home........
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