[Faith-talk] Daily Thought for Thursday, December 26, 2013

[David Andrews]

The list does allow attachments.

David Andrews, List Owner

At 05:43 PM 12/26/2013, you wrote:
>I do not even know if this list takes attachments. However, you 
>could search for a youthube link for us to play/download.
>
>hth
>
>Doris in Lutherland
>
>At 05:10 PM 2013/12/26 -0500, you wrote:
>>Well folks, 'tis the day after Christmas, but I hope and pray that 
>>the real reason for the season remains with us for a little 
>>while.  That's why the rest of the month and year will still 
>>contain articles and stories around this most wonderful of Christian seasons.
>>
>>I may have given this one to most of you last year, but I can't 
>>remember.  Suffice it to say that if it were possible I'd like to 
>>play a music box selection while I verbally read this piece, but 
>>alas I don't know how to attach an audio file, and perhaps many of 
>>you wouldn't know how to open it even if I could.  Anyway the title 
>>of this story by Brenda West is entitled "Mom's Christmas Music 
>>Box," rendered as follows:
>>
>>I carefully lifted the small box from the top of the shelf of the 
>>bedroom closet.  Standing tiptoe on a dining room chair, I 
>>stretched farther than gravity allowed and lurched forward.  As I 
>>struggled to regain my balance, I envisioned a long-dreaded 
>>disaster.  "Oh, no," I muttered, "after all these years, all I need 
>>to do now is drop this treasure.  After all, it's an irreplaceable keepsake."
>>
>>I managed to retain my composure and climb down, planting my feet 
>>firmly on the floor.  Shakily, I clutched the box in both hands and 
>>sank into the living room recliner.  After resting momentarily, I 
>>removed the lid from the cardboard container and pushed aside a 
>>mound of tissue paper.  Nestled safely inside was a tiny, molded 
>>plastic church, complete with a key-wound music box.  Its original 
>>white color had turned to ivory over time, but the miniature had 
>>remained in almost perfect condition.
>>
>>The small house of worship featured authentic detailing, from the 
>>steepl topped with a "gold" cross to the double entrance doors and 
>>"stained glass" windows.  Four surrounding steps formed the 
>>base.  I plugged in the detachable cord holding a clear glass 
>>bulb.  Instantly, brilliant illumination flooded the interior and 
>>shone through the delicate windows, evoking serenity and reverence 
>>while creating varicolored hues.
>>
>>I wound the key and placed the memento on the mantel.  The tinkling 
>>sounds of "Silent Night" floated through the quiet house.  Missy 
>>and Tuffy, my nonchalant cats, were quickly roused.  Forgetting the 
>>intrusion on their naps, they padded toward me and stared intently 
>>at the new attraction.  Eyeing the music box curiously, the two 
>>curled up beside my chair and purred contentedly.
>>
>>When the last note faded, I twisted the key once more.  Slowly, the 
>>present faded to mid December 1952.  Mom was supervising my two 
>>younger brothers and me as we trimmed our fresh-cut evergreen.  The 
>>piquant scent of pine filled the rooms as it mingled with other 
>>pleasing aromas of homemade cakes, cookies, and candy.  We three 
>>were bursting with pre-Christmas excitement, hoping Santa Claus 
>>would be generous on his visit to our house.
>>
>>As we finished tossing tinsel on the tree, Mom's eyes gleamed and a 
>>secretive smile spread across her face.  We watched in anticipation 
>>as she opened a newly delivered package from a mail order 
>>house.  As she took her time to cut the strings and remove the 
>>brown paper wrapping, we barely contained our mounting 
>>curiosity.  With the aplomb of a skillful magician anxious to 
>>mesmerize his audience, Mom revealed her surprise, a church music 
>>box.  Tenderly, she held up the small object, allowing us to 
>>inspect it from every angle.  We were permitted to look but not touch.
>>
>>My brothers and I squirmed in anticipation as Mom, clearly amused 
>>by our reaction, ceremoniously turned the key.  Within our hushed 
>>circle, the first notes of "Silent Night" burst forth.  We listened 
>>attentively until the last note quivered abruptly to an end.  Then, 
>>we urged Mom to play it again, and again.
>>
>>The evening passed quickly as we became enchanted by the sound and 
>>sight of Mom's music box.  While we listened repeatedly to the 
>>familiar refrain, we could almost picture the manger scene being 
>>reenacted in the sanctuary before a hushed congregation.
>>
>>How powerful is the childish imagination! Often, it is the cushion 
>>that softens the harsh blows of life.  If only the elusive trait 
>>survived the transition to adulthood, perhaps we could retain our 
>>childlike wonder of the miracle of Christmas.
>>
>>The church music box became a tradition at our home, filling a role 
>>as vital as the tree, lights, and other decorations, but as we 
>>rushed headlong into growing up, the music box, like the other 
>>decorations, grew less prominent until it was put away and nearly forgotten.
>>
>>Somehow, the church escaped damage during its faithful service, 
>>including several moves to other houses.  Recently, Mom 
>>relinquished the cherished possession to me because I had an 
>>expressed a sentimental attraction to it.
>>
>>Many Christmases have come and gone, yet the miniature church 
>>continues faithfully to sing forth the beloved carol.  Its presence 
>>serves as a reminder of the Living Gift bestowed upon our troubled 
>>Earth many centuries ago on a silent, starlit night.
>>
>>That Gracious Gift offers peace and joy to all who will accept.
>>
>>And there you have Brenda's article which I hope was a blessing to 
>>you.  Many years ago in 1980, I was in Brawner's Christmas Store in 
>>Frankenmuth Michigan about 100 miles north of Detroit, and saw a 
>>very similar-looking music box, although it didn't play "Silent 
>>Night." It played an old German Christmas carol whose first verse 
>>is as follows:
>>
>>O come, little children;
>>Oh come, let us all,
>>Come to the stable
>>In Bethlehem's stall.
>>
>>This article brought back memories of that visit.  I'm not sure, 
>>but I think that Mr. Brawner and family have sadly closed down the 
>>store, although I'm not sure.  For those who don't know, 
>>Frankenmuth, located on the banks of the Cass River, was up until 
>>1945 100% German Lutheran.  The village got its name from the 
>>Franconia area of Bavaria, and the bells of St. Lawrence Lutheran 
>>Church were hand-made in Germany.  At one point before modern 
>>buildings were erected, it was said that they could be heard for 
>>seven miles, though I have no way of confirming that.  I had a 
>>delightful time visiting the town, including recording the bus tour 
>>of the place and the recording, in English and German, the 
>>glockenspiel rendition of "The Pied Piper of Hamlin," although in 
>>truth that wasn't Bavarian, but took place in Westphalia, as at 
>>least one person reading this will testify.
>>
>>Oh well, enough of my reminiscing.  Until tomorrow when, Lord 
>>willing another daily thought message will be presented, may the 
>>God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob just keep us safe, individually and 
>>collectively, in these last days in which we live.  Your Christian 
>>friend and brother, Paul