|green top stockings are the new additions to our family...the spouses...so next year will have two more green stockings|
I had so much fun reading everyone's comments on starting to stuff my stocking. It's amazing how many of us were raised with oranges stuffed in the bottom of our stockings. I wanted to share this link which tells how this tradition began - http://davesgarden.com/guides/articles/view/1853/#b. I am looking forward to putting oranges in all of our stockings again this year.
Along with the unexplained tradition of oranges were the nuts that filled in all the spaces of my Christmas stocking...we have done the same with our children. We would pour them out all over the floor and then, later, gather them into a bowl to be enjoyed by all.
This year, the symbolic nuts in my stocking are the giggles from children. My Benjamin is a source of continuous giggles in our house. To watch the world through a young child's eyes allows us adults to also giggle...sometimes out loud and many times a giggle in our spirit.
Christmas provides times of plentiful giggles...Charles Dicken's Christmas in McKinney...The Dallas Children's Parade...Viewing of Christmas lights...The windows at Neiman Marcus...Making Christmas cookies. Stories being read at bedtime during this season allow the giggles of a child to pour out into adults' hearts.
Here are just two stories from our "giggling machine" that I place in our stockings, along with pictures of his eyes of wonder.
As we were riding along listening to Christmas carols, Benjamin heard the song about being naughty or nice. I didn't think anything about his silence..which means his brain is churning. Finally, the song ended and he voiced very matter-of-factly, "I think I am in the middle of that list!"
The pure honesty of a child just warmed our hearts.
|my last two boys at home...Stephen 16 and Benjamin 6|
Another night, he was helping me set the table for dinner, filling all of the glasses with ice. I noticed that he selected the ice dispenser that gave out large cubes for everyone's glass except one, in which he placed crushed ice. I didn't ask why... When I sat down, I poured the tea in the glasses and started to drink from the glass he had put crushed ice into. He shouted, "Stop! You can't drink that. That glass is Dads! When he orders a drink he always ask for little ice so I made sure he got little ice!"
My heart was warmed that this little man wanted to honor his dad with the request for little ice, even if his dad meant the volume instead of the size of the ice.
So this Christmas season, I pray you have the joy of a child. Our Savior came as a child and he beckons us to come as a child to Him. May your stockings be filled with giggles.