ABC’s of Christmas Prayers

About the Book

My memories of Christmas were just as fond. Both of my parents were from South Arkansas, several hours away, so our immediate family would have our Christmas early on Christmas Eve morning, then we would load up the station wagon and drive to Hot Springs and Malvern that day to see our family. We had a Christmas Eve get-together every year at my aunt’s house in Malvern that night, and it seemed like there were hundreds of people there (although there were probably only forty to fifty). There was Christmas music, presents, food, and lots of fun. The “family holiday tour” didn’t stop there—after the Christmas Eve party, we would then drive to Fordyce (about an hour away) and stay with my grandmother Maxine. We would usually roll into town about one in the morning, but she was ready for us, armed with an amazing coconut cake I will never forget. The taste and texture of the delicious cake is a pleasant part of my Christmas memory. We had another Christmas event the next morning at her house, in another part of small-town America. It was all a whirlwind of events, but a tradition that I cherished. Although there was lots of family throughout my childhood memories of Christmas, there was one thing that was not a part of the family rituals—I don’t recall the story of Christ being present in our home at Christmas. Debbie and I made a concerted effort to make sure our three children understood and treasured the story of Jesus’s birth and ultimate death as part of their Christmas memories. The story of Christmas is a true love story—the love that God shared with all of us. God sent his Son to be born and walk among us in order that we may have life abundant. We should never miss that part of Christmas as well. I hope this book helps bring that tradition to your family in some small way. We hope this book will help you create those Christmas memories as well.

About the Author

I grew up in the fifties, sixties, and early seventies, a time of great political turmoil, but in the small town of Rogers, Arkansas, everything seemed in perfect alignment. My memories of growing up were really those of being a part of something special. Everybody knew everybody, and there was a sense that the town put their collective arms around you and helped you grow up the right way. There was not much in the way of entertainment, but we created our own fun.