In Sixteen-is Gloria

This is another Christmas blog borrowed from my buddy Darryl Grimm. As I said before, I never met Darryl in person, but one of the aspects of our friendship that always impressed me was that except our ages didn’t correspond, he had so much in common with so many people I do know. My first year at OBU I was always surprised to hear that this friend or that friend was going to be at some other church Sunday because they were singing or playing the organ or hand bells or doing readers theater (but that’s another story). In any case, that’s who Darryl was as a young man.

What is it about Christmas?

When does that little bit of melancholy begin to creep in?

For me, it was the year that I played the pipe organ for the Christmas Eve service at a little church in a neighboring town. As everyone left saying "Merry Christmas", the snow started falling and everything started looking like the picture inside of one of those snow globes. After a while, I was all alone on the street; my father wouldn't be able to pick me up for 15 more minutes, the time it would take him to get from the church where I had always spent a part of Christmas Eve to where I was standing, waiting.

It was the first time I had spent any time, even a minute, away from my family on Christmas Eve and as I stood there, I felt it; that first little twinge of mortality. I felt really alone for the first time.

It's all part of leaving childhood and growing up. A very natural process. But somewhere inside there is still that kid waiting for his Dad to pick him up soon on Christmas Eve, knowing that the rest of the night will be wonderful, standing and waiting with tears in his eyes and wondering why he's crying.