21 ...

My Grandfather and I have a special bond ... I'm his favorite, just ask him.  And one of my favorite things about Gramps is the Christmas Eve reading of the Christmas Story.  We all gather in the living room of whichever house we are at that year.  Mom and Dad sit, holding hands.  Aunt Laurel sitting in front of Uncle Matt, sharing the coveted Jelly-Flops.  Aunt Charma in front of Uncle Max, rubbing his feet. The cousins piled every-which-way on the floor, poking at one another and texting one another from across the room to comment on one of the ridiculous comments an 'adult' made.  The snow, if we have lived right, falling outside.  The lights in the room bright enough so that he can see the pages of the Good Book but dim enough so that the tree shines brightest.  Grams will have us sing a Christmas Carol, the youngest always asking for Rudolph or Frosty.  She grants their wish but then follows up with a request of her own, something more along lines of the Story about to be read.  We harmonize, usually a good four part, sometimes six if we are feeling adventurous {most of the time we are}, each of us taking in the portrait of our family as another year has passed.

Then he begins, his voice somehow surpassing its soothing tone of the year before.  The Story never changes, the angels, the traveling, the Humble Birth, the proclamation.  But somehow, each year, it is as if Gramps is telling it for the first and only time.  Sharing with us his belief in Jesus Christ, as our Savior and Brother, as those verses are recited.  The circumstance for the French / Mount family does not often change, the challenges that are ours are 99% of the time challenges we have already faces with another family member.  But somehow, Christmas Magic perhaps, Gramps offers himself to the Heavens, to the world, to us ... proving we've made it through once, we will make it through again.  If I close my eyes tightly enough I can hear his voice and see his face as he reads, "For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord," (vs.11).  Those words, read by my Grandfather each year and proclaimed by angels and shepherds and the humble parents of the Christ Child , are the words of Hope and Happiness for an entire lifetime.

So to my Gramps: Keep reading, read with your pauses and your frated words.  Read to us again this year as you did the last and the year before that.  Read to us, this year no more important than the last but just as necessary.

Merry Christmas to my Favorite, from yours!