July 31, 2021
Christmas in July
Rick Smith
Sometimes a person doesn’t fully understand what they’re learning and experiencing in life until enough time goes by that they do. Huh?
Such was the case for me one warm Christmas Day in July.
What? Christmas in July? How so? Well, here’s how:
I was 10 years old at the time, on a family summer vacation with my three sisters and parents. We were on our way to Montana from Michigan to visit our Grandparents and other relatives. We lived in Michigan because of my Dad’s work, but Billings, Montana, was hometown for us all.
Like every other visit we made to Montana, we would be staying with my Mom’s parents, my Grandparents. The basement of their home had a bathroom and enough sleeping accommodation for us all to be comfortable.
But that year, 1958, the descent down those basement stairs ended in an unexpected and unforgettable surprise!
The last few steps of those stairs curved slightly to the left. As we rounded the corner, there, to our total amazement was a Christmas tree – a fresh, perfect Christmas tree. The smell of pine filled the room and the tree stood proudly, lights twinkling, ornaments dangling, even a star on top.
“Merry Christmas!” exclaimed my Grandmother and Grandfather. They had beaming smiles on their faces watching my sisters and me thrilled and filled with joy. The picture-perfect presentation was complete with gayly wrapped gifts for each of us.
Little did any of us know, but our Grandparents had been planning this moment for over a year.
My Grandfather had made a special application to the Forrest Service to cut down a tree in July, and then he and my Grandmother made a trip to the mountains to get it a few days before our arrival.
Their gesture of love was due to a comment my sister Gayle had made to them the year before. “I wish we could have Christmas with you,” Gayle had said. But family vacations weren’t possible for us in winter, so our Grandparents decided to surprise us with a Christmas in July and make Gayle’s dream come true.
My Mom, of course, – many years earlier- had made my Grandparents dream come true when they had adopted her as an infant. Then, they filled her life with one gesture of love after another, including this Christmas in July for her children.
I understood what adopted meant as a 10-year-old. My Mom had talked to my sisters and me about her adoption. It made no difference to us. I always felt like my Grandparents were biological, even though I knew they were not. It felt like they were, and, mostly, it didn’t matter.
Now, years and years have gone by since that unforgettable Christmas in July. Enough time for me to finally understand what I learned that day: That there’s something more powerful than blood that connects people in life.
And that is…love.
Merry Christmas, everybody!
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