The aroma of stories should fill Christmas gatherings like potpourri.
This morning, I ate bacon and eggs at the senior breakfast. I hasten to say that I qualify as a “senior” because of my role as pastor. Though, I will soon have dual citizenship based on both age and clergy status.
Actually, I’m not sure of the age requirement and don’t have the heart to ask. I may already be in.
I enjoyed every minute of the breakfast: bacon and eggs – though no hash browns or toast — beautiful friends, and good stories. I really like the stories.
Senior gatherings invite storytelling and memories like the account I heard today of Dr. Beebe’s emphatic gestures when he led our church choir in the 1950’s.
Other stories were more recent. I complained about the weather which I view as my right having driven back from the great state of Iowa in nasty conditions. My family counted 105 vehicles in the ditch between Iowa City and our home.
Finishing my 14th year in Stillman Valley, Jamie’s mom having recently died, it’s on my heart that whenever we say goodbye to someone who goes on to be with Christ, we lose a storyteller.
Time is short. Let’s encourage people to swap stories. Ask people where they grew up. Ask about their folks.
There is nothing like combining the smell of Christmas dinner and the pleasant aroma of memories.
And remember, all our stories are part of the great story of Christ, who was born in the city of David and laid in a manger because there was no room in the inn.
The best memories with my Dad was when he would talk about his experiences in his younger years while on the farm. Picking corn by hand. Helping neighbors dig out from snowstorms. (Clearing a path down a dirt road with a dozen other neighbors)His team if horses that was second to none. The list goes on forever and I would stop whatever task was at hand to sit down and hear just one more story .
I know what you mean! Stories like those are wonderful.