The snow sifted down from a gray sky as my mother and I looked out the windows of the trolley station waiting for the Red Arrow to arrive. It was pretty exciting to take the trolley car to 69th Street, the main shopping area in the western suburb of Philadelphia. In 1952 the term “shopping center” did not mean a mall, it referred to a region in the city or town where the commercial shops were clustered. We boarded the trolley for the trip that was just about 30 minutes long. In the brief time it took to get to our destination, the snow had intensified. When we got off the trolley there was already an inch of snow on the streets and sidewalks. For a four-year old this only added to the excitement of the Christmas shopping adventure. Christmas carols were playing outside the shops and department stores, and people bustled around the slushy sidewalks like folks on a mission. Display windows were filled with all sorts of merchandise to entice a person to enter and find the perfect present to give to that special person.
I recall how I was drawn to the department store windows that had model electric trains running through miniature villages with mechanical buildings and people dotted throughout the display. Such fascination caused me to become separated from my mother from time to time, and generated a response from my mother to hurry up so we could complete our shopping excursion. So, through the snow blown horizontal by a bitter wind, we trudged up the hill where the stores lined the streets to reach the one where Mom wanted to shop. Across from that department store was the Woolworth’s 5 and 10 cent store and the lunch counter where we always stopped. I knew this meant a grilled hot dog and a chocolate soda. That made the trip up the hill less of a chore, despite the fact that the snow was falling heavier and was getting deeper.
Outside Woolworth’s was a trio of Salvation Army folks ringing bells and playing brass instruments. They faithfully stood in the growing snow storm to receive donations in a red pot suspended from a black tripod. These people always fascinated me; and I was equally intrigued by the fact that those who made a donation received a colorful booklet that looked somewhat like a comic book. We passed them going into Woolworth’s for our lunch. While I ate my meal I asked Mom about these people. She told me that they were Christians who wanted to tell others about Jesus and his birth, and that they helped lots of people who did not have food and clothing. As we got ready to leave the lunch counter, I decided I wanted to give them some of the money I had brought to do my shopping. We passed by them and I put the money in the pot and kept walking. The lady ringing the bell stopped me and gave me the booklet and wished me a merry Christmas. I carefully tucked the booklet in my coat and we continued our Christmas shopping.
The day really did turn into an adventure. The storm had turned into a full scale blizzard. I am sure if the Weather Channel was around we would not have been caught off guard – then again maybe we would! We got back into the trolley and headed to Oakmont. At the trolley station we were greeted by drifts of snow that covered my knees and caused Mom to stuff old newspapers in her boots to keep the snow out. Roads were unplowed and impassable. A kind neighbor man on the same trolley carried me much of the way home as I could not navigate the drifts and Mom’s hands were full of her purchases. When we finally made it home we were wet and felt like frozen popsicles. Taking off my coat I felt the wet booklet I had been given. I began to cry because I thought it was ruined. Mom comforted me by saying she could put it on one of our cast iron radiators and dry it out. She promised me she would read it to me later in the evening.
Before bed Mom brought the now dried yet wrinkled booklet to my bedroom. There she read to me the story of Christmas and how Jesus, God’s Son, was born and placed in a manger. She showed me the pictures of shepherds and wise men. She read that Jesus came because God so loved the world and me that he gave His Son to come to earth so that people could have eternal life. I cannot remember if I had ever heard the story before. But I have never forgotten the amazing story she read that night huddled under my covers as the wind howled outside and snow and sleet pelted my window. To me it was amazing to think that God loved people so much that he gave His Son to come from heaven to a world like this.
For many years after that I would go to my closet as Christmas approached and retrieve that wrinkled Salvation Army booklet. I would read for myself the reason for Christmas and continue to be amazed. The last time I saw the booklet was when I went to college and cleaned out my closet. When I saw the wrinkled booklet I flipped through the pages and was again amazed at God’s great love. Now in my sixties, I do not have the booklet. I can read my Bible about the same account that I read in that booklet and I am still amazed. You never see Christmas the same once you realize how amazing it really is. How about reading in the Bible that amazing story for yourself as this Christmas season approaches (Luke 2:1-20 is one suggested passage)? Christmas is amazing!
