My memories of Christmas are filled with family, toys, fruits, fireworks. I quit giving Christmas gifts years ago to those who could buy them. The wise men brought gifts to a child. I look for "my child." They are in dark doorways out of sight from the glitter of Christmas. Their hopes have been dashed. I don't know them. They don't know me. Consider during this season in the land of plenty reaching out and helping someone find hope for a better tomorrow.

Merry Christmas to All... It's always almost Christmas here. A Christmas song plays and our dreams come alive again. A flood of memories fills our hearts with family times... Times that can bring smiles, tears, laughter. There comes a time when we clean out the old to make way for the new.

Like that box of letters in the corner of the attic daddy wrote to mother during world war II. They are both gone now. Mother said to burn them. They were boxed up in 1946 and no one has read them since mother anxiously opened them after they traveled around the world to reach her.

I can imagine the family gathered around a tube radio listening to news about the war as mother shared with them the contents of the letters.

Can you imagine reading this for the first time?
He wrote:

Ellington Field, Texas
December 19th, 1943

Dear Harvey,
Daddy cannot be with you this Christmas, but I want you to know daddy hopes Santa will bring you lots of toys. I hope you will have a Merry Christmas and even happier New Year.
Be a good little boy. 

Love,
Daddy

I have never seen this letter. The tears flowed as I read it over and over and over.
I was born June 10, 1942.

Then from somewhere on the West Coast waiting to go to
the Pacific theater. December 18th, 1944.

Dear Sara,
I had a wonderful Christmas in Granddaddy's living room when
I was 5 years old (December 25, 1923). I made mother get up with
me about 6 or 7 a.m. and we made a fire and didn't turn on
the lights. I ate candy and ate and ate till I felt kind of sickish,
but it was a grand Christmas. Only seven days till Christmas.
I hope Harvey has a big time. I know you will enjoy Harvey Christmas Day
-just wish I could be there, too.
Love, HA

More tears... He mentioned me many times in his letters. Another missed Christmas, December 25, 1945. Mother was gone too. With daddy in a hospital until he was ready to come home.