Saturday, December 27, 2008
Well, that’s what one of my brother-in-laws calls it. But with 30 something people ranging in ages from 16 months to 70 years in your immediate family makes Christmas Eve festivities like everything else…flexible. Our church does a drop-in communion service from 4pm-6pm on Christmas Eve. Families, dressed in everything from sweats to full blown boutique garb, are given a special mediation reading, Bible reading and hymnal song. As families become ready, they parade down the isle and kneel together at the alter to receive communion. It is a lovely serene sight. I could actually sit there all night watching everyone come and go. Anyway, our turn comes and due to our sheer number, can stretch across the entire alter. I kneel beside my 6 year old son. Before he could ask about the money scattered at the alter, the pastor is offering the bread and wine to us. Allowing my son to be independent, he begins to pull a cup from the plate. What I didn’t know was the little plastic cup full of red grape juice was stuck. Not to be deterred, my son pulls hard enough to release the cup and its contents all over me in my ivory Christmas sweater. As I am kneeling there trying to keep my composure, juice is running down my forehead. I just nod as I hear “Sorry momma”. As we all stand up, my son tugs at my brother-in-law and asks, “Aren’t you gonna leave a tip?” Hhhhmmm, it’s just another Christmas memory to tell years from now. As I look down to survey the damage I notice that I look like I have been shot. Good thing that we live only a mile down the road!
Posted by n*stitches at 11:46 PM