Christmas I remember best: Pageantry, pancakes make angelic memories
I couldn't help but turn to look and in doing so, tripped. Mother Mary caught me and stood me up straight. Looking at the light above, it became so bright that I had to cover my eyes, and when the shepherds dropped to their knees, so did I.
Then there was a voice saying: "Fear not for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people … and ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in a manger."
The voice was low and clear, sweet and soothing, and as the shepherds, reassured, arose upon their knees, they looked worshipfully at the messenger standing there.
As I looked too, I beheld his white robe, his hands stretched out toward us and his divinely beautiful face. Suddenly the light turned a pink color and up, up as far as I could see there were radiant forms and voices singing: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."
As they repeated the song, the angel rose lightly out of the view, but long after he was gone, down from the sky fell the reverberating sound: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."
Gliding all the way home on the sled, I heard the echo of angels still singing "Glory to God," and I didn't care that Mama told me I had said all the speeches and sung all the songs along with the actors, and that the sheet fell from around me when I turned and that the black sateen bloomers showed through all the time, and that I kept scratching the itchy halo, and that I shouldn't have waved to Lilly in the choir of angels high up on the platform behind the gauze curtain.
All I cared was that I knew tears had streamed down my face while the angels sang because of the tremendous feeling of love that had filled my heart.
I thought to myself: It will be fun to crack walnuts on top of Old Black, to eat the big Christmas dinner and to sit in a circle in the living room as each of us opens our gifts, but still … nothing could take the place of that feeling that had touched my hear.
For on that day in the year of 1928 I received the most precious gift of all … the gift of love.
Vivian Seastrand Evans — Tremonton
Vivian grew up in American Fork. She attended BYU where she majored in Speech and Drama with a minor in English. She was married to R. Bruce Evans for 65 years. He passed away 4 years ago. Vivian has 4 children, 24 grandchild and 49½ great grandchildren. She loves reading, writing, music, dramas, British comedies and indexing for the LDS Church. Her favorite hobby is being with her family and grandchildren. She will be 90 in June.
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