Desert Storm Christmas

  In the summer of 1990,  we were living in Fayetteville, NC.  Sam was flying helicopters at Ft. Bragg and Andrew was just a year old.  Sam got orders to go to the Advanced Course school in Alabama. He was gone for about 3 months, and while he was gone, his unit was sent to Saudi Arabia for Operation Desert Storm.  He finally came home in October, but it was a short stay.  Less than 3 weeks later,  I tearfully said goodbye again as he left to join his unit in the desert.  Before cells phones and iPhones, before Internet and Skype, there were letters.  Sam waited in line for 2 hours to call me soon after he arrived in country, but then I waited--and waited for the mail.  I waited over 3 weeks for the first letter, and there were no more phone calls.  When it was time for Christmas, I found it hard to get very excited about decorating.  I just couldn't put the whole tree up, so we had kind of a Charlie Brown tree that year.  Someone made bread dough ornaments shaped like soldiers in desert fatigues, so I remember putting the ornament we called "Daddy" on the little tree.  Hallmark put out an American flag ornament that year, too, so I bought one of those to put on the tree.

   A few days before Christmas, the kids and I drove to West Virginia to spend Christmas with my parents. We had our traditional Christmas Eve party, with lots of family and  food, but I just felt so lonely without my soldier.  But then the phone rang and it was Sam! He knew I would be with my family and he stood in line for a long time to make  that short call. That was the best gift ever-- and it lifted my spirits so much!
    The war started in February and letter were even scarcer then.  It was a very difficult winter, and my family, my church, and the other officers wives helped us face the uncertainly and loneliness of those days.  But finally it was over, and the long winter ended.  When I saw my husband's big smile, and felt his strong arms around me -- well, it was like Christmas was finally here!

Best Present Ever

    It has been 50 years since I got the best Christmas present ever.
     I met CW2 Sam Spencer in 1971 while I was on a mission trip.  He was just fresh out of flight school, and on 30 days of leave before going to Vietnam for his second time -- this time as a Cobra helicopter pilot.  I had graduated from West Virginia University in 1970 and finished my first year of teaching school when I went to Richwood with some other young professionals and students for a mission trip.  That's where I met this good-looking soldier.  We spent a lot of time together that week, and he asked me to write to him in Vietnam.  So our relationship continued by mail-- long delays because there were no cell phones or Internet. When he got back to Fort Bragg next summer, we started talking on the phone and seeing each other about every three weeks when he came to see me for a day, then I starting meeting him at his parents's house in Richwood.
We had a good time together -- but had never once discussed marriage.
     Then in October 1973, there was a war in Israel, and Sam was on alert to go there.  He told his dad that when it was over, he was going to ask me to marry him.  But I did not have a clue. So, he had a ring in his pocket when he came to see me that 1973 Christmas.  I remember that we were wrapping packages  and he was putting a tag on one for my mother. He said, "Should I write "mom" or "Theda" on it?" I just looked at him -- didn't get the hint-- and he said,  "I will write "mom" next year." I laughing asked if he thought he would be around next year, and we continued to wrap packages.
       Later that evening, he just said, out of the blue and on a knee -- "Will you marry me?" I was totally speechless--my mind was racing-- can I fit in to Army life? Can I make a forever decision this fast? But then he pulled out that glorious diamond ring and said, "you haven't said YES yet." There was no other answer YES, YES, YES!
        He didn't want me to wear it until he got to ask my dad,  but I think Mother suspected the next morning when I had such a permanent grin on my face.  She questioned my happiness so early in the morning, and I gave an evasive answer, but there were tears in her eyes so I think she knew.
         There's  more to the story, but I have cookies and fudge to make. So I will just say it continues happily ever after, and that ring is still the best present I ever got-- because along with it came the best husband ever!

Another Christmas in Germany

     
       We lived in Germany for 3 years from 1986 -1989. After living in the Bruder Grimm Hotel for 2 months, we moved to a Altenstadt, a village north of Hanau where we knew of no other Americans. That's where we lived for the first Christmas, and we did enjoy getting to know our neighbors, but communication was hard because our language was very limited.  I could say things like "How are you?" and ""I like your dog" and "Merry Christmas" -- not a deep conversation. A couple of our neighbors spoke a little English, and the kids just used sign language to play with the others in the neighborhood.  So when the house we were renting was sold, we started thinking about trying to get housing on the military base.  The value of the dollar was dropping, and it was taking all of our housing allotment just to pay the rent.
     Our new landlord invited us to his house for a party at Christmas, and that was a bit uncomforatble.  No one but the landlord spoke English, so we didn't know what anyone was saying.  We were planning just to make a social appearance, give our greetings, and leave for a another party at the commander's house.  But our landlord had other plans.  He couldn't believe that we did not drink -- at all-- and said he had "Never met an American who didn't like German beer!" I'm afraid we were a disappointment to him -- he was very insistant that we try his flaming alcoholic punch, and we just wanted to leave. 
     By the next summer our name had come up on the list for housing, so we moved to New Argonner, a small kaserne in Hanau.  We lived in an apartment on the third floor, and it was much smaller than our house in Altenstadt, but a relief to be able to talk without straining my brain to think of German words.  When no one has family or old friends around, you get to know to your new friends quickly, and soon we became close to Sharon and Lloyd Fish, our neighbors across the hall.  They had 3 adorable little boys, and we loved spending time with them.  On Christmas they came over for donuts -- I have a great video of their littlest one switching donuts with Sara -- trading his little one for Sara's bigger one when she wasn't looking.
    One Christmas I ordered a pair of leather slippers for Sam, but had them sent to Sharon's house so Sam wouldn't know.  Christmas came and went and the slippers never did show up -- as far as we knew. But a few days after Christmas, there was a knock at the door, and the Fishes were there with a package and a rather sheepish smile.  It seems that Lloyd picked up the package a few weeks earlier, and although he didn't remember ordering them, he did remember looking at some slippers in a catalog and since they were his size and had his name on the package, they must have ben his -- or so he thought.  Turns out that he had been wearing Sam's slippers for a while -- and now they were wrapped up and presented to their rightful owner!  The next year, Sharon bought a jacket for Lloyd and had Sam wear it over to their house on Christmas Day before giving it to him. 
    Christmas in Germany was very special -- I loved going to the outdoor Christmas market in Nurenburg and eating gingerbread cookies and hearing the carols sung in German.  I still love the sound of "Silent Night" sung in the original langusge. And the snow -- we always had a white Christmas! We made some wonderful Christmas memories during those three years across the ocean.

Engagement !! from Mother's diary 1981

"Wed., Dec.23, 1981
Cooked, shopped, and wrapped packages. We went to grocery store.  Helen, Jeff,Ina, Cline,Greg, John, Deb, Ann, Sam and girls.We had such a good time. ... Jeff announced his and Helen's engagement and gave Helen a ring tonight.  We are all so happy.We all love her and she is just what the Lord has given to Jeff. We then had another party and took pictures. It was a fun evening. Everybody was just so happy for Helen and Jeff.
We have never spent so much for Christmas.  $200. just for groceries.  Prices are so high, but we bought everything we wanted to have it for all the children."

Christmas without Mother -1997

      As I've said before, Christmas at the red house (my parent's house in West Virginia) was always wonderful.  Whenever it was possible, we drove home from Fort Bragg -- once flew home from Alaska -- to spend Christmas with my family.  Mother was always there to greet us at the door like we were royalty -- the house was decorated festively, with a HUGE tree full of one-of-a kind ornaments.  Christmas music was playing from the stereo, and the smells -- YUM!!  There was always soup or chili or something delicious cooking on the stove, and the cookie tins were full of chocolate chip cookies for Sara, strawberry-filled cookies for Steve, and Memaw's black walnut fudge for me. I always ate until I was about sick, but how I loved that stuff!  My mother loved holidays, and especially Christmas. But Mother was spending Christmas in heaven this year, after a long battle with the breast cancer that finally took her life in the spring.
      When I walked in the door a couple days before Christmas that year, there were no good smells or music or Mother to greet us.  Daddy was busy taking DOWN the Christmas tree.  Mother's College and Career Sunday School class had come down to decorate the tree a couple weeks earlier, just like in previous years.  But Daddy had forgotten to water it, and all the needles were on the floor. When I came in, he was in the process of dragging it outside -- then he was going to cut down another one that Mother had planted and start all over.  I realized I had a choice then -- either sit down and cry, or pick up a broom and start sweeping out the pine needles. I knew what my mother would do -- she always made lemonade when life gave her lemons -- so I started sweeping.
     We made donuts on Christmas Eve, just like always, and lots of family members were there -- but it just wasn't the same.  Daddy gave everyone money for Christmas, which we appreciated, but we missed all the little personal gifts that Mother always had piled under the tree.
     Daddy had been desperately lonely -- after being married for 50 years, he couldn't stand to stay home missing mother.  At first he visited all the relatives, church friends, old classmates, neighbors, and Army buddies, staying until late at night.  He walked 4 miles every morning, and sometimes another 4 in the evening. When he had visited everyone he knew, he started dating.  So by Christmas he had started seeing a widow and was smiling again.  We were happy for him, but it was extremely weird when he brought her over to meet us. We love her now, but that year she was NOT our mother, and we were not exactly thrilled with the situation.  Daddy spent every evening with her, so we sat in the empty house, missing Mother more than ever.  We didn't know it then, but that would be the last Christmas in the red house.  Daddy married Reba the next year and sold the house, and we all had to find new ways to spend Christmas Eve.
     This year Daddy is also spending Christmas in Heaven, and I miss him. But we will still make donuts and have our Christmas Eve party.  Life goes on, and we will celebrate the birth of the One who gives us peace and joy and hope with gratitude for the blessings He has poured out on us.  I hope that our children will continue to "make lemonade" and have a party when my generation is gone and they have to sweep out the pine needles and start over.

Crazy gift exchanges - 1990's

      As the Lewis family grew -- 10 grandchildren by 1989 -- buying gifts for all the nieces and nephews and siblings and spouses was getting a little out of hand.  So while we were all home for Christmas, we decided to draw names for the next year's gift exchange.  But this would NOT be your regular gift exchange.  Franklin Graham's "Operation Christmas Child" shoebox project was in the news, so that gave us an idea. One of us had heard a Jeff Foxworthy story about his aunt giving free hotel shampoo and shower caps for Christmas. So we decided to gather all the free things we could get and put them in a shoebox for the gift exchange.  It was 1995, the year we moved to Hudson, and I had a vist from the "Welcome Wagon" so I got some good free stuff for my box. I also went to several events with free samples, so I had a pretty full box to give. I remember that Johnny, the paramedic, had band-aids and medical supplies in the box he gave, and Jeff, a PE teacher, had water bottles, etc.  Mother had filled her box with lots of hotel freebies -- shampoo and lotions and shower caps. I remember that TJ was in college that year, and she said the only free thing she could get was condoms.  Since she had my mother's name, I told her she's better be looking for something else, because that would not be a good gift for my mom! When we finally exchanged gifts, there was lots of laughter, as usual. It was amazing to see what we had managed to collect during the year.
       The next year we drew names again, but decided that everyone would have to MAKE the gift they gave. Since I am not talented in the arts and crafts department, I'm sure my person got a feeble gift. But I got a wonderful cross stitched pillow from my sister-in-law, Debbie. The most memorable gift, though, was from my brother Steve.  He got a huge bucket -- the kind you get in the automotive or paint department -- and wrote on the sides with a magic marker about 100 things it could be used for. The "Bureen Brother  Bucket" was wrapped with duct tape and could be used for "Muddy boots, sassafras roots, bait for fishing and apples for teachers, washing your car or dog or putting out fires.  Carrying expired animal to a place of eternal rest . Also carrying fish guts to a place a cat can eat them."  The list went on and on and it was about the funniest gift I ever saw.  Johnny says the duct tape is long gone, but he still uses the bucket all the time.
      I think that was the last Christmas before Mother died, and the last time we drew names.  I remember sitting around the table playing "Balderdash" and laughing until we could hardly breathe.
I've had a lot of fun in my life, but nothing compared to Christmas at Red House with a house full of family.

Christmas in Germany -- TJ's version

My 4th Grade Christmas

by Thea Spencer Helderman on Thursday, December 17, 2009 at 12:55pm

This is a lot of my friends FAVORITE Christmas Story. It is not “politically correct” so please DON’T be offended. I did not make up the name of the politically incorrect character…he is a real person in European Folklore…

In 1986, I was in the 4th grade and living in a small town in Germany. My dad was in the ARMY and he had been stationed there the year before. My mother, a teacher, was determined that we (my younger sister and I) would make the most of this experience and get the most well-rounded education that we could. We were the only American family living in the town and my mother homeschooled us that year. We studied all about the history and traditions of Europe and on the weekends we would ride the train to see castles and museums that we had learned about earlier. I have some really great memories of the time and would love to go back and see some of those things again…

Anyways, around Christmas that year my mother told us that since we had moved to Germany, the German St. Nick was going to visit us instead of Santa. My sister and I were undeterred by that fact as long as we still got presents. This was the year I was starting to not believe but I played along just in case…and we didn’t care what he was called as long as I got my walk-man and she got her cabbage patch doll…I had tried to be especially good in the weeks leading up to Christmas, but not just because I wanted my walk-man…Germany had a TOTALLY different way of dealing with the kids on the “naughty list”….

St Nick was sweet and loving guy… but he had a side-kick His side-kicks name was Black Peter (this would be the politically incorrect character I was talking about and he sometime was a person of African decent, but most of the time was just a white guy in blackface)…and his job was not to leave coal or sticks for the “naughty” person, but to put them in his bag and carry them off until they could learn to behave (FRIGHTENING!!)…and my mother would use this to her advantage. Every time my sister and I would act up, my mom would say “Watch out or Black Peter’s going to get you and take you away!” and we would get scared and stop whatever it was we were doing.

Lo and behold it was Christmas Eve and my sister (who was in the 1st grade) started thinking about all the naughty things she had done. She often got in trouble for being stubborn, a tattle-tale and bothering me…and she was starting to get scared…She asked if she could sleep with me that night and I told her that she could. I wasn’t scared, I was pretty sure Santa and St Nick weren’t real. She climbed in bed and we huddled together waiting until morning….

Around 5 am I woke up…as I came to my senses I realized my sister was NOT IN THE BED!!!! Black Peter had STOLEN SARA!!!! My heart pounded as I ran down the hallway to my parents room screaming “BLACK PETER GOT SARA!! BLACK PETER GOT SARA!!” I flung open the door and my parents looked at me with alarm…”BLACK PETER GOT SARA!” I screamed…My mom and dad started laughing hysterically…and my mom said “Sara’s right here.. in bed with us. She got scared last night and came to our room.” Relief flooded me…and I realized and much as my sister annoyed me, I still didn’t want Black Peter to get her….

…and that is what Christmas is all about!

Merry Christmas to ALL!

Thea

Guest blogger (Jeff)-- the REAL story

Every Christmas Eve that I can remember in Red House, included a house full of relatives. One particular year, I'm guessing circa 1963, everything seemed to be going along as usual. As I look back, I still can't understand how it got crazy, when the previous year and the year following, were uneventful. I had already opened my present from Aunt Ina ( socks again ) and Mother's drop doughnuts were making the rounds. At some point in the evening, Uncle Cline had excused himself to drive over and visit a few other nearby relatives, as he always did. What unfortunate luck he always had, because he always missed the quick visit from Santa, every single time. Yes, Santa would pop in for a minute to make sure  our wish list was certain. Then he'd have a few doughnuts then wave good-bye and say, "I'll be back in a few hours, make sure you're all in bed." We would all respond "We will, bye Santa !" , then wave until he was out of sight...me, my brother Johnny, cousins Leslie, Robin and Hunky. Uncle Bert's girls were staying at Grandan's house during the holidays, a short walk through the snow from my house. Earlier years included Ann, Steve, cousins Greg & Mike in all the excitement. It just didn't get much better than that...but not this time. Not this time.
    No sooner than Santa's words had left his lips, my Uncle Bert, ( who was incredibly gifted at stirring emotions in small children ) repeated -" Yes, make sure you're all in bed."  Somehow, Uncle Bert had manufactured an urgency in us like we had never known before. We were all suddenly aware that time was of the essence. It was dark outside, Santa was on the move, and we weren't even in our pj's yet! I was in a panic. It was probably the only time I ever outran my brother up the stairs to dive into bed. I can remember how I sort of felt sorry for the Frazier girls, crying while struggling to put on winter coats and squeeze their feet quickly into 4 buckle artics, still having make it to Grandan's house, there was no way they'd make it in time, I thought. But a little more secure, knowing that at least I would be in bed when Santa returned.
   The five of us serious believers were eventually calmed, but  I have to believe the folks were torn...put an end to great entertainment or straight jacket & hyperventilation. Knowing the Fraziers as I do, it was a tough choice.

Wishing a Merry Christmas and a  Magical Christmas Eve to all my family and cousins.
Jeff

First Christmas away from home. 1975

I had never missed a Christmas at home in Red House until I married my soldier.  Somehow the Army didn't seem to care that I wanted to go back home to WV for Christmas, and that year my new husband could not leave Fort Bragg.  I was feeling a little sad about that -- and told Sam that it just didn't seem much like Christmas without a new doll -- and there would be no new presents from Santa under the tree on Christmas morning.  I hadn't had a doll for Christmas in years -- don't know why I thought about that. But there were always lots of new presents under the tree at Red House when we got up -- they just magically appeared overnight -- LOTS of presents because there was always a house full of kids.  Our first tree was very simply decorated, and it looked a little sparse underneath it.  I don't remember what we did on Christmas Eve -- but I know there were no donuts and no relatives. Pathetic.  I woke up the next morning without the sound of "Sleigh Ride" and no one but Sam to race to the tree.(He was an only child, so he didn't know about the Lewis traditions -- no racing that morning.)  But when I walked in, expecting to see only the gifts that I had wrapped, I stopped in my tracks.  There , under the tree, were 2 dolls -- Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy!! Santa knew where I lived after all and he surprised me with the best present ever!! I don't remember anything else about that Christmas, but I kept the dolls until they fell apart.  They were another reminder that I had the BEST, most thoughtful husband in the world.  We had many more Christmases away from family -- we learned to make our own donuts and friends filled the house on Christmas Eve.  But I will always remember that special gift of love -- not only did Santa know where I was, but my new husband knew my heart and did his best to make it a special Christmas.

Santa's coming and I'm not in bed!! early 1960's

I'm sure one of my brothers or Frazier cousins could tell this story with more detail -- and I welcome comments!  Sometime in the 60's, we were having our annual Christmas Eve donut party -- Uncle Bert's kids and the Grant cousins were there. Someone -- probably Uncle Bert -- put all the little cousins in a panic because they thought Santa was coming and they were not home in bed.  There were tears and a mad rush for coats -- Johnny and Jeff running up the steps to jump in bed -- NO Christmas party before or since has ended so quickly!!

1957 -- 9 years old

This was the year I got my first diary -- pink, with a lock (since I had so many secret things to write.)
I wrote in it off and on until I left for college.  I think everyone should keep a journal.  My mom  filled stacks of notebooks with her journals, and I also have my Grandan's journals.  I'll be adding pages from their Christmas writings, too.

I got a beautiful ballerina doll that year -- my plan was to be a ballerina when I grew up.  I tripped over a brother and stepped on her hand and broke off 2 fingers.   My Emmett Kelley clown doll was also a Christmas gift this year.  One of my brothers used it to hit another brother with, and the clown's head broke off.  I was so upset -- I loved my dolls. With a house full of brothers, it's a wonder I had anything unbroken!!

1960 -- age 12

From my diary:
"Oh, what a wonderful Christmas! This year I got a transistor radio from Uncle Wayne, a game of Life from Sonny, a doll, pins from Mike, a doll from Steve, an umbrella, a stuffed monkey, bedroom slippers, Jon Gnagy "Learn to Draw"kit, an autograph hound from Aunt Ina, a billfold from Memaw and Grandad, 4 Louisa May Alcott books, a 2 dollar bill from Grandmother Lewis, and a little tiny doll at the end of my stocking."
My radio disappeared the next day -- guess a neighborhood kid took it -- and I was broken-hearted. We played Life for years.  I don't know why Uncle Wayne and Sonny Wallace gave me Christmas gifts -- I don't remember them being around for Christmas.  I remember the rag doll from Steve -- I think it came from the Ben Franklin store, our main place to shop since there was no Wal-Mart in those days. I still have the monkey, although one hand is missing.  He has a banana in the other hand, and it fits in his open mouth.  My brothers loved to play with it.  I loved "Little Women" and all the Alcott books -- I'm sure I was thrilled with that gift.  The white autograph hound was great until Steve wrote BS under his tail.  I then wrote "Brother Steve" with those letters, but never did like it much after that.  Mike teased me about that for many years.
I don't think that looks like the Christmas list of a 12 year old girl today, but I loved dolls and books at that age and it was a wonderful Christmas for me. Never did find out what happened to that little radio that I loved most of all.