This time of year brings to light many family traditions. In our family most are related to Christmas and the New Year and have been passed on for several generations. Giving gifts, decorating the tree and watching bowl games rank high on the list of must dos. Among the women of the family, the highest, perhaps, is the baking of cut out hand iced Christmas cookies. When I was a child the process was a day long event that was my favorite day of the season. My mom would make the dough and my grandmother would cut the shapes. My job, along with a friend, was to decorate the cookies. Dad’s job, when he came home from work, was to taste test. Only after he proclaimed them ” the best ever” were we satisfied that our efforts had been successful. This tradition lasted long after I was grown and living on my own. Only after my grandmother died did we quit making the cookies together. The job was passed on to me. I accepted the challenge and even changed my grandmother’s recipe a little. When my stepsons were little, they helped decorate the cookies. The cookies again looked childlike and beautiful in their simplicity.
Yesterday’s sermon by Dr. Kent focused on looking at this holiday season through the eyes of a child. He impressed on us the importance of sincerity, honesty and kindness. We were asked to open our hearts like the hearts of children. As often happens, the sermon struck a chord with me.
Again, like last year, I have been struggling to get into the “holiday” spirit. This year has been a particularly difficult one in our home. The continuation of our business is dependent on the economy. The economy has not been kind to us lately. Clients who would normally sign on to projects are much more reluctant than in year’s past. My business is also struggling to survive. Hard times strike non-essential items from lists of “must haves.” Much as I hate to admit it, art is not essential to many households. The defeat of our candidate in the presidential election is still fresh in our minds. It remains a very harsh reality to accept. Even the abrupt end of the Red’s season seemed to hit us harder than usual. The lack of a bowl game for my undefeated Buckeye team threatens to ruin my New Year’s Day. Our trip to visit family for Thanksgiving is a wonderful but distant memory.
The passing of my parents has dimmed the holidays for me. Their ever present optimism is missing from my life. When things would seem dark I could always count on my father to shed his light on the subject and help me to see things more clearly. He would help me find a solution to whatever seemed to have me in a corner. His sense of humor carried me through my worries and always brought a smile to my face. They say that time heals all wounds, but, I doubt the hole in my heart left from the passing of my father will ever heal completely. It is due to that wound that I constantly look to the other constants in my family for strength and encouragement. My husband and brother never fail to step up when called upon. That being said, a lovely little child stepped up without even knowing it this holiday and I will forever be grateful. Here is the “rest of the story.”
As I said, it is now my responsibility to make the cookies. They are pretty good if I do say so. My friends love them not only for their sweetness and almond flavor but the painstaking care I take to decorate them as I would a painting. My biggest fans, however, are my nephews,their wives, and their children. They live in Colorado and Chicago, so, are unable to stop by and enjoy them in our home. Every year I find a new tin and send a package of cookies to each household. I love to receive texts and photos of the kids, big and small, enjoying the cookies. They rave about the cookies, fight over the cookies, pay attention to the cookies. All the attention ensures that there will be a bigger tin and more cookies next year. This year, however, it is the brief text from Marisa that really made me pause. We had been discussing my gifts to her kids in Chicago. I texted her to let her know what to expect and when it may be delivered. Her reply was short but oh so welcome. She said “You know, you have ruined my kids for the UPS guy. Any delivery, any time of year, my kids think it’s cookies from Aunt Susie. You have made a lasting impression on my kids!”
Wow. The eyes of a child. Talk about a perfect example of the glass half full. Every time you see a brown truck pull up the driveway-it must be cookies. Now there is my family’s optimism LOUD & CLEAR. I needed to be reminded by the youngest members of the family to view the season from the proper vantage point. Thank you Brad and Mia (and Dr. Kent) for reminding Aunt Susie that even the smallest act of kindness has impact, even if it is far away and not immediately visible. Again I am humbled by my blessings and I welcome the new year with all its challenges and gifts. Happy New Year and the very merriest of Christmases to you and yours.
THE SUSIE CHRISTMAS COOKIES IS A CHRISTMAS TRADITION THAT MAKES US ALL BECOME KIDS AGAIN.
I SHARE SUSIE’S FOND MEMORIES OF THE MANY FAMILY CHRISTMAS’S PAST.
THE FUTURE IS ABOUT TODAY’S KIDS AND MAKING MEMORIES FOR THEM TO CHERISH.
AS WE GET OLDER, IT’S DIFFICULT TO KEEP A STIFF UPPER LIP AS WE TRY TO PROCESS THINGS THAT ARE DISAPPOINTING, BUT AS OUR DAD TOLD US, “YOU MUST CONTINUE TO CHANGE WITH THE TIMES, ITS ALL OF OUR RESPONSIBLITIES TO DO SO.”
SO, SUSUE, PLEASE SEND OUT THE COOKIES AND PRETEND WE ARE STILL KIDS. YOUR PASTOR’S ADVICE IS GREAT.
YOU HAVE TO DO WHAT I SAY, AFTER ALL, I’M YOUR BIG BROTHER.