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experience of the ultimate typo. ….

experience of the ultimate typo. …. experience of the ultimate typo. ….

experience of the ultimate typo. We really did have a merry Christmas that night.

Grace Kim, Mutual 14

My Christmas: I lived for 14 years in China, 17 years in Korea, and 60 years in the United States. When I lived in Shanghai, China, I attended Japanese school, and there was only one Korean Church. My parents were very active and dedicated church leaders. Sunday school students were all involved drama, and my role was an angel. It was a drama about Jesus born in the barn. My Christmas gift was a sweater my mother knitted. She wrapped it with white rice paper and left it by my bed. When I woke up on Christmas morning, I found it, and I was so excited to wear the beautiful sweater. I hugged my mom. Our Christmas tree was decorated by whole family with all the ornaments made by us. They were colored paper or colored by crayons. I remember that on Christmas eve, church choir members visited every home and sang Christmas carols. My mother gave them rice cakes and tangerines. On Christmas morning, we had chicken soup and tangerines. We visited friend’s homes, and we all had rice cakes.

Suzanne Job, Mutual 9

Christmasdinnerisaholiday tradition. This one particular year, we planned a trip to Bishop to enjoy snow in the mountains. We made reservations before we left home. The hostess booked a time on Christmas Day without realizing the restaurant would be closed.

When we arrived at the restaurant, the parking lot was empty, but the owner came out and said, “my executive chef is here, and we have another couple that showed up, so we’re going to serve your dinner.”

Everything in town was closed on Christmas day, so they knew we would have no way to get anything to eat for dinner. They honored a holiday tradition, and no charge for dinner. For dessert, they made tiramisu, and crème brûlée. The owner said eat one here, and take one back to the motel with you.

Anna Derby, Mutual 5

In my childhood, my family lived in a small town of southwest from Seoul, where my mother practiced Buddhism, a traditional Korean religion, and that’s all we knew. Yet, I loved to hang out wherever people were and that was the town hall and small church we had. I was one of the kids who loved to stay until the last person left. Between church and mother’s practice, I didn’t think there was much different about it, but one thing I knew was that mother treated others so kindly. The year she turned 60 years old, she converted to Christianity and all of us were surprised and very happy for her. It’s said that you do what you learn at home. And here I am, celebrating this holiday by sharing what I can with others in the spirit of my mother’s be-kind-to-others life.

Lori(Townsend)Chamberlain, Mutual 11 Dad and Mom cooked up a plan when we were wee ones, in the hopes to keep us in bed a little bit longer on Christmas morning, so that perhaps, just maybe, they could have a bit of extra sleep. Mom bought simple little Christmas stockings for each of us three kids, and hand embroidered our names on them. Before we went to bed each Christmas Eve, we kids would each hang our own Christmas stocking on the door handle of our bedroom. When we awakened early Christmas morning, lo and behold! The previously empty stocking was filled with little gifts for eager kiddies to open and play with (quietly, was our parents’ hopes). It seemed that there was always a large orange or apple in the toe, doubtless more to take up space than to encourage good snacking habits. Still believing in Santa Claus, and thinking that either he or an elf had filled my stocking, I fought sleep each year, trying to catch Santa or his emissaries in the act. I never did! Never caught mom or dad doing it, either! It was a magical feeling, and still is a magical memory to me, now, as a grown “kid.” It was a fun tradition in the Chamberlain household. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for the loving memories you gave us each year.

Frances Vargas, Mutual 2

My daughter Laurel (aka Lala) sent me this treasured letter a few years ago.

Dear Mom,

Of course, Christmas is more than the things we receive. It’s about sharing, singing, laughing, praying and moments created and shared with family. In a sea—or at least a very large pool—of children, commitments, concerns and obligations, you always made time for me. You made Christmas magical but grounded in faith and taught me the importance of remembering others.

The lessons and traditions you taught shaped our Vargas Culture.

As Dad would say: leave an empty chair for a visitor or a candle lit in the window to welcome someone from the cold.

As we talked about the other day, your greatest gift has always been the ability to anticipate a need before it is spoken. So, my dear Mom, I want to thank you for all you have so joyfully given, shared, celebrated and sacrificed for me and our family. I have learned from you. I have heard you, and I thank you and love you to the Earth’s end.

Always, Lala

Phyllis Poper, Mutual 14 Mother’s Christmas Gift

Lovingly she ties each ribbon, fluffs each bow in proud display.

Each cookie is a work of art, a tasty treat for Christmas day. Wreaths and garlands twine around, sparkling in red and gold.

Welcome guests to fireside places, cider soon drives out the cold.

Prayers of thanks for this abundance invite blessings from above.

All this prepared to send the message of our Father’s gift of love.

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