Since before my college-aged children were born, an ever growing
collection of angels come out each year to be suspended from one of the Christmas trees in our
home. The angels on my angel tree have come to me from far-flung places around
the globe, given to me by missionaries, parishioners, and friends. Many are
handmade.
As I crack open the case that holds them, I lift a crocheted
angel made for me by a one of the first women I met when I moved to this
community, again before children, even before I met my husband Jerry.
This
woman, Eleanor, served as activities coordinator in a nursing home where I
volunteered by providing piano music. I can still see her pushing the residents
into the piano room, often stopping to catch her breath as she suffered from
severe asthma. It didn’t seem to hold Eleanor back much. She was perfect in her
role, as she seemed to bring cheer to all that lived there.
She asked if I’d found a church. At that point, I’d only
visited a church a couple of times. “Oh,” she said, “My son and his
family attend there. Have you met them?” That son turned out to be one of my
husband’s Jerry’s best friends (Again, I hadn’t even met Jerry yet). Eleanor made the angels for me
many years after I met her, just before she went to be with the Lord. When I see
her angels, I can trace the hand of God in my life as I remember her and her
role in making me feel that this city was indeed, where God wanted me. My heart is filled with gratitude for her, and her family, which have meant so much to us over the years.
Another angel, a fragile one, hangs high on the tree
protected from cat paws and wagging tails.
It was given to me one Christmas just days after I
miscarried a baby. When I opened it, I couldn’t believe this angel holding a bundle in its arms. The friend that gave it to me said, “I bought it weeks ago, and it was
already wrapped before you ever had the miscarriage.” No one even knew I was
pregnant. At the time, it was added assurance God had my baby in his arms, and now, it’s a precious reminder of that little one I look forward to seeing
in heaven. The friend who gave it to me is now fighting a serious disease
and is in desperate need of an organ transplant. I give thanks for all she’s
meant to me, and pray again as I have daily that God would open the door for
her to receive the transplant.
A large angel stands sentry under the angel tree. Handmade
from what appears to be screen wire, it was given to me one Christmas after I
went through a former coworker’s serious health crisis with her.
That
experience bonded us for life. She’s now the
caregiver for her mother who’s in a serious health decline. She faces many
challenges caring for her mother who now has forgotten who she is and thinks my
friend is merely the woman who cooks for her. I offer prayers of thanksgiving for my friend and
all the years of our friendship and pray God would give her strength for another difficult
road.
I know some have a problem with putting out the Christmas
decorations before Thanksgiving. I don’t. For me, these angels remind me of
precious ones who have meant so much. They represent an opportunity to give
thanks.
How could we celebrate Thanksgiving anyway without that Christmas baby
in the manger?
Thanksgiving and Christmas get all wrapped together at this
house.
And that’s not a bad thing.
That’s a very good thing.
“For this reason, ever since I
heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all the
saints, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in
my prayers” (Ephesians 1:15-16).
Happy Thanksgiving!