Rather than giving you information about exciting business news happening in our community, I am going to write about my Christmas story.

When I was a little kid, Christmas was truly a good time of the year. My family struggled financially for most of my years growing up, but Christmas always was a time of great gifts, joy and love. My mom would begin buying Christmas gifts for us very early in the year. Whether she would put them on layaway or actually purchase them, she always was working hard to provide for us and make Christmas an important time.

On the other hand, my father was working hard to provide for us the entire year, but he always would take his last paycheck of the year and spend the entire thing on gifts for my mom, sister, brother and me.

Although all the gifts and good time were very important and meaningful to me, the true meaning of Christmas is what I always cherish.

The angel that goes atop the Christmas tree in most people’s home when they decorate their tree was not put on our tree. On Christmas Eve, beginning in my teen years, my father, who is a very straight shooter, and a rough and tumble sort of guy, would tell us a Christmas story.

The story would be about his savior’s birth and what that meant to him. During his telling of this story, he would become a gentle, laid back, caring individual. I was, and still am, always amazed at the transformation that my father makes when he talks about Jesus. After Dad’s speech, we all would go to bed in anticipation of the next morning’s gift opening.

Although my family struggled financially, while they were raising me one thing that never faltered was, there always was a freshly cooked meal on the table. My mom was an excellent cook – a cook who could come up with a different meal for every day of the month. Christmas was no different – my mom did, and still does, cook treats and goodies for weeks ahead of time in preparation for the Christmas holiday. I’m always amazed at the transformation that my mother makes when she is cooking for her family, taking a little piece of her heart and stirring it up in the marvelous food she prepares to take care of me and my family.

Now that I am old, really old, I think back on these and many other memories of Christmas time in admiration. My only hope today is that when my children are old, really old, as I am now, they, too, will be able to look back and remember the true meaning of Christmas and be able to identify the little piece of my heart that I gave to them to take care of them.

Merry Christmas, and have a safe and happy New Year.