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Christmas Dresses-A true Christmas story on charity

by Mary Ann on December 20, 2011

black and white photo of little girl smiling

Mary Ann, almost 5, see the buttons!

The Dresses

Written by Mary Ann Johnson many years ago while her children were small and she was remembering Christmases past; a true short story.

The heater made a steady hum as it singed the small bits of pine I had placed on top. Maybe you won’t know that kind of heater. I’d never seen one like it until we moved into the new house. It was brown and shiny and huge. It wasn’t as homey as grandma’s Ben Franklin but it was warm and didn’t create clinkers, for which I was grateful. The pine was mother’s idea. She liked the smell the needles gave off as they turned slowly brown.

NaVon, a mere 23 years old

I was five years old and Idaho Falls was cold and windy, as usual. Inside it was warm and cozy. There were six of us and the house was small. I saw it years later and small was a generous word for it. At the time it seemed perfect.

The cupboard

Christmas was coming and as it always did during that season, the sewing machine was humming away. Pieces of black velvet and red taffeta littered the floor. I noticed the buttons first; the most beautiful buttons in the world, shiny and black with rhinestone centers. Those buttons were a treasure sewn on a cardboard square. I would have paid at least a quarter for them, a vast sum hidden away in my bank.

But the buttons weren’t for sale. They were going onto elegant dresses which my sisters and I watched take shape until I could hold back my curiosity no longer. “Mom, are dresses for us? Can we wear them?” “No”, she replied. She had to be kidding. After all who else would they be for?

With patience she explained that there was a family who needed help making Christmas special. We had so much she said. She ticked our blessings off on her fingers. I remember the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I had never had a beautiful dress like that, never a dress with buttons that shone like stars.

As the days passed, the emptiness in my stomach was being filled, for as my mother sewed she

Our horse

poured into me a feeling of gratitude for blessings received and a spirit of giving. She made me a co-conspirator. I cared for the baby, played quietly and picked up those lovely scraps so she could continue to sew.

Soon the dresses were finished and gone. The gifts of love had been delivered. Then my mother began pouring charity into the empty place that the actual departure of the dresses left. “Now girls, when we go to church you’ll see those dresses on three other little girls. Don’t say a word. We want them to feel happy and proud. This is our special Christmas secret. Remember that it is important for people to have dignity and be happy.”

3 cribs with sides that went up and down

We three, Cindy, Shirley and I turned our young faces to her and beamed. We knew we could keep the secret. We trusted the words of our mother. I remember the new feeling of joy in my stomach. No longer did emptiness linger there.

Christmas night was torture. Every child has felt the pangs of anxiety; will the doll be there, the train, the blocks? Every child has felt the excitement; how can I wait, how can I sleep? Sleep stayed away for a long time.

It was still dark when we raced to mom and dad’s room. They arose slowly – too slowly! finding slippers and waking the baby. Then there was the interminable wait as dad lit the tree and turned up the heat. Finally we were free to run pell-mell forward into an ecstasy that would last all day.

What? I stopped short. There they were, those buttons attached to three perfect, black velvet and red taffeta dresses. What a surprise and joy.

Shirley, Cindy, Mary Ann

As I sailed into church later that day, I was wearing a prized gift but the most precious Christmas gift I received that season was carried in my heart; gratitude for what I had, the love of sharing and charity for others.

This gift, given to me by my mother so many Christmases ago has made all the difference in the quality of my life. Thanks, mom!!

Also a thank you to my dad who is gone now. He made all these wonderful toys with his own two hands. We had them for many, many, years and they delighted all nine of us children.

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A story of Christmas and personal growth

by Mary Ann on December 16, 2011

Little Hands of Christmas

Christmas at the Johnsons

Written by Mary Ann Johnson many years ago, to honor the legacy my parents gave me. It just took a while to recognize it. A true short story

“Whose is this one mom?” Seth held up a porcelain joker dressed in purple and red satin. “Oh, its one of mine, but you can have it.” He seemed pleased that I would let it go so easily; it along with 25 or 30 other beautiful ornaments gathered over the years.

As I watched him gleefully pack them up to take to his new home, my mind drifted back many years, to another home and another Christmas memory. The ornaments were scratched and old and many made by children’s small hands. I thought they were so ugly and wondered why our tree couldn’t look like my friend’s trees with beautiful balls and ribbons.

Looking back it looks great - Ah teenage eyes!

The lights were in a box, a huge tangled mess. I could hear the tension between my mom and dad over those lights; she thinking, “It’s not a big deal”, and him promoting more organization and care in packing them away.

I vowed that my tree would never be like this. I would have beautiful ornaments. No little children would put them up, all clumped in one spot. The things they made would go on low branches or in the back or better yet on the refrigerator and then be packed away in a box. My tree would be beautiful!

Glorious Christmas Chaos!

The presents under the tree were ugly. You could tell that kids had wrapped them using masking tape and very little skill. My friends had beautifully wrapped packages from large department stores under their trees. Ours were well worn, with the gifts inside poking through the corners where little hands had rearranged them too much. Never mind that I myself had moved them about over and over, it wasn’t going to happen when I had a family. They would be artfully placed under the tree and then left alone!

Making Christmas Cookies

I kept those vows to myself. I began to gather Christmas, beautiful ornaments purchased for half price the day after Christmas. The lights were always perfectly wrapped at the end of each season. Nothing was bent, broken or mutilated! As the years passed the decorations increased and were more beautifully arranged until we had a ‘Better Homes and Gardens’ house (well, as much as that is possible with seven children). It was truly beautiful and admired by many.

Little hands were pushed away and little faces scolded for touching the packages and rattling them close to little ears. Sometimes, those same little hands were allowed to put ornaments on the tree but they were later rearranged so they looked better. All the packages had pretty ribbons and straight edges where little hands had been helped too much to do the job; and more years passed.

Sharing the joy

Little by little I found my heart softening as I began to love my children’s hands more and the things of Christmas less. But now they were bigger hands and into them I put the job of decorating. Perhaps things weren’t done just as I would have done them but it just didn’t seem to matter. All was a little less artfully arranged and the packages weren’t as fancy. I just wanted to please my children and not the world.

As the last ornaments were packed up and Seth and his little family left, I was brought back to the present. It had cost me nothing to give those trappings away to him. My heart was not attached to those things of Christmas as it had once been, but only to the child going out the door.

I realized that I had been gathering a new kind of Christmas, the kind from many years earlier where busy little hands had been allowed to touch Christmas and shake it and squeeze out every exciting moment of it.

Lights on, music on, finally allowed downstairs

I understood what I had missed before, that Christmas has always been about little hands; the little hands of the Christ-child reaching towards his mothers sweet face that first Christmas night. His little hands were lovingly guided and allowed to learn until they were grown and reached out to the whole world in love as he gave his life on the cross.

As I thought about where I had been and where I had come to I saw that I was able to offer Christ a special gift; a heart full of love for little hands and a knowledge of the need to nurture them; a heart freer of the worldly trappings of Christmas.

This year my tree has a long paper chain on it made by a child’s hands. All the many elegant and fragile ornaments collected over 40 years have been used by my youngest daughter and my tree; well it has non-breakable and well worn items on it. The “little’s” will be coming over and I want to spend my time hugging and not saying no.

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Solidify Your Most Important Relationships

by Mary Ann on December 15, 2011

My friend, Hailey

Could a 61 year old woman and an 8 year old girl have an enjoyable evening together just talking and reading? Well I have the answer!!

Every Monday a family with three girls comes to my home and we have an evening together. It’s pretty predictable. I read them a couple of chapters from a classic while they do some quiet activity on the floor, all surrounded with a pile of pillows. Then we have a snack, whatever I have on hand, nothing fancy, and then I read them the scriptures. That’s pretty much it, no bells and whistles. It is a quiet and unhurried evening of just enjoying each others company.

Their mom is a busy student. She is going to be a nurse and so sometimes she forgets our evening and then gets a chewing out by the girls. That happened last night. Now it wouldn’t be a problem but I also have an 8 year old girl who lives downstairs from me. She has gotten wind of our Monday rendezvous and she has asked to join us. She has come twice. I thought both times that she would get bored and not want to come any more, after all it’s pretty tame.

This Monday night she was at my door at 6:30 – “Are you having it tonight?” “Yes we are. I talked to the girls yesterday and we are on so I will send one of them to get you at about 7:30”.

At 7:35 Hailey was at my door again. “Did they come?” “Gosh, it is time. I don’t know where they are. Let’s give them a call and see.” Oh, oh, Vicky was taking a final and forgot. I looked at Haley and her disappointed face. I had been shampooing my carpets all day preparing for a big all-day parenting event in my home on Sat. I wasn’t really sorry to have the night off. I had a lot to do! Then I looked again at Hailey’s disappointed face.

“Well Hailey they forgot and so they aren’t coming.” She didn’t say anything, just looked at me with expectation. “Hailey lets just have an evening by ourselves.” She enthusiastically nodded her head. We sat at the table and made paper Christmas chains. I thought that as soon as we ran out of strips she would head on home. While we worked we talked about school, her friends, the holiday….and then she said, “Well, aren’t you going to read?”

I read and we talked about the story and what was happening and what we thought about it. Then she asked if we were going to read the scriptures. She knew right where we had left off.

Hailey and I ate Jordan Almonds, read, made paper chains and talked and talked. Well, I listened a lot and Hailey talked. : ) I kept thinking that she would get bored any time and want to go home. After all I am 61 and not her school friend who is usually here. She never did!

Hailey's beautiful Christmas Paper Chain

Here is the point of the story. The first rule of engagement is structure time for what is important and then be consistent. The second rule is be present.

Hailey has only come to our evening event two times. It isn’t exciting or anything. It is quiet, with reading and maybe a small activity. Yet here she was at my door anxious to be here.

Children like and need structure. They want to be able to count on the things. They want consistency. They want you, your presence. That was what drew Hailey to my door, the structure of something she could look forward to and the consistency of having it happen, and me, listening, hearing and responding. It was an evening that I am glad that I didn’t miss.

Set up some structured time for your family and then be consistent. Give your children something to count on. Don’t let school, work or carpet cleaning come between you and really getting to know and enjoy your children. Be present and really solidify your most important relationships.

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Oh Come All Ye Faithful – A children’s Christmas play

by Mary Ann on December 13, 2011

children dressing up for the Christmas play

Oh come all yea faithful; gather round Mary and Joseph and sing Hosanna!

First Practice:

One of the angels wanted to look like a pirate. He is desperate to look like a pirate. This little angel may have an eye patch or a scarf on his head. All the angels were taking off their halos – they itch. The angel who is supposed to say “Follow the star” is desperate to say “Point to the star” and that is probably what he will say come play night.

The Roman soldier kept pulling on his robe and saying “I look silly”. Mary kept losing her headpiece. One of the shepherds has cerebral palsy and a head piece is not going to work at all. This little shepherd is supposed to say “We are afraid”. She says it the best she can with a huge smile. She just can’t find it in herself to be afraid. There were many small shepherds wandering about trying to figure out where they were supposed to go.

I have just come home from a children’s Christmas play practice. They are preparing to reenact the Christmas story next Friday night. This is what it is like working with children.

These children are in luck. My dear friend Cindy Walker is their director. She smiled through the chaos. She gently called small children back into place. She helped with lines that will never be memorized. She replaced halos, headpieces, and robes and kept smiling. She didn’t laugh out loud at the silly things the children said and did.

She told me that it doesn’t really matter how it goes next Friday night. Parents will smile, children will feel good, and hearts will be touched and for all we know eyes may be wet. For her perfection isn’t what counts. Even reasonably well run isn’t what counts. She wants every child to have a wonderful time, to feel proud and happy for their efforts and for the spirit of the season to be abundant and warm. I think it will be!

little girl dressing up as shepherd for christmas play

Here is one of the little shepherds getting in her stander so she can be part of the action; very happy with her costume and getting help to say her line “We are afraid” with a BIG smile.

Second Practice/Dress Rehearsal:

None of the angels, all 3 and under, would wear their costumes. Hmmmmm. This does not bode well! Joseph and Mary are still not quite sure they like their parts especially saying, “I am going to have a baby!” The soldier still feels silly. Headpieces still fall off, belts are missing, halos still itch, no one remembers were they stand, many parts are not memorized and the little shepherd still smiles when she says “We are afraid.”

Cindy, bless her heart, is still smiling, still replacing headpieces, reminding children of their lines and gently calling small angels and shepherds into place. She still is more concerned about children and how they feel, than the end result. This is about having an experience, about learning to do something new, about feeling good. It is not about perfection or even reasonably well run!

The Performance:

Behind the scenes chaos reigns; noise, lots of it. Mom’s, lots of them; children, really lots of them. Cindy is running around madly from one crisis to another hoping everything will fall reasonably into place. BEGIN!!!

christmas play behind the scenes pictures

All the little angels wore their costumes. WOW!! All the headpieces stayed on, except for our happy little shepherd who still smiled broadly as she said, “We are afraid!”

Joseph and Mary were still not thrilled.

children as joseph and mary in christmas play

The little angel who wanted to say “Point to the star” wouldn’t leave his dad’s side…that is until all the angels left the stage and the shepherds were on their way in. Then he went up and sat by the baby Jesus and made happy boy sounds with his plastic cup!

little angel in christmas play

As the shepherds, wise men and angels gathered around the baby Jesus they were a mob, juggling each other for a space, mostly with their backs to the audience. The audience sang loudly as each carol comes in its correct place.

children's christmas play scenes

Parents smiled, children felt good, and hearts were touched and eyes were wet. The play was reasonably well run. Every child had a wonderful time and felt proud and happy for their efforts. The spirit of the season was abundant and warm. This is what it is like to work with children!

Here is my dear friend Cindy Walker at the end, happy despite being tired, because she remembered that it didn’t really matter if the play was perfect. For her perfection wasn’t what counted. Even reasonably well run wasn’t what counted. She wanted every child to have a wonderful time, an experience with something new, to feel proud and happy for their efforts and for the spirit of the season to be abundant and warm. Ah, success!