Duty interrupted our Christmas togetherness

Do you enjoy Christmas music? Though I prefer sacred selections, Christmas’ most popular secular song, “White Christmas” carries memories for me, too.
That lump-in-the-throat time was the first Christmas after my oldest brother had joined the army.
Jim, whose Martin-Marietta job might have given him a deferment, was a private stationed in Hawaii, likely headed for Laos or Thailand.   
We had known the certainty of our Kansas Christmases together on the farm was slowly eroding. Two of us were in college and my sister would soon pursue her career in nursing.  
I was home helping in the kitchen when “White Christmas” came on the radio.
My thoughts immediately turned to Jim. He loved snowy Christmases, but would be stuck in Hawaii.
Jim’s yearly construction of a lighted wooden red brick miniature church with its glittering cotton snow had an almost sacred spot on our buffet each Christmas. Who would use his old toy bricks to make that church this year? Who would be asking if Mom had the brown beans and cranberry Jell-o made?
My tears started spilling. I missed my almost perfect brother.
True, his “thunk” on my head occasionally had been too hard. And, yes, years earlier he probably caused the abrupt demise of my shiny three-speed bike.
However, would I make it through Christmas without seeing the guy who set up hay bales to teach me to parallel park, whose hearty laughter interrupted his tale of how he’d tricked me into jumping from a car?
Years earlier, as an inexperienced, too-young-to-be licensed driver, fear I was ruining the family car had suddenly occurred halfway up a hill I had been slowly climbing in the Olds.
I’d firmly planted my feet on the brake and clutch, while my little sister ran to find Jim, a natural mechanic, to ask him what a car’s pinging sound meant.  
I sweat as I held the car in place, waiting, worried.
Jim could have won an academy award for the convincing way he came running, waving his arms, repeatedly yelling, “Jump out, it’s going to explode!”
Explode?
Grateful my life might be spared, I bolted, barely clearing the flopping door as the Olds rolled backwards down the hill, which raised a theological dilemma. I had thought Jim was almost perfect.
Becoming a Christian, I believe, requires admitting we need God’s grace to cover our willful disobedience. Jesus came to Bethlehem, and the cross, to offer us a Father-child relationship with God, and God is more eager to clear our sin record than we are willing to ask for it. The reward is guidance now and eternity in Heaven later.
Paul has joked that Jim had to make up sins to be saved. Perhaps if we had recalled times he took advantage of us gullible sisters, Jim would have made it to the altar sooner.
I later realized many of us shed sentimental tears upon hearing Bing Crosby sing Irvin Berlin’s “White Christmas”.
The sentimental song, written during World War II, has sold over 30 million copies, making it the most popular Christmas song.
If you’d like to cheer members of today’s military, consider sending an e-card using http://www.letssaythanks.com. Reading the feedback shows cards are appreciated.
Also, remember nearly all serving overseas have a loved one, some of them living near us in this county. Ask what you can do for that family.
If you like to sing Christmas carols, our informal sing-a-long will precede caroling next Sunday in Stanton. Call 829-2543 for details.
Marge Warder is a freelance reporter/columnist for the Red Oak Express. She can be contacted at mawarder@yahoo.com.