The Long Walk
LONG WALK
by Ruth Stafford Peale
Nowadays, since our three children are long-married and raising families of their own, Norman and I divide Christmases among them. One year we'll go to Maggie and Paul in Pittsburgh, then another to John and Lydia in Virginia, and the next we'll stay close to home in Pawling, New York with Liz and John.
We keep up the same traditions in each home-the trimming of the tree, everybody in the house together, no one cooking or reading or doing anything but helping with the ornaments that we take out and exclaim over as if we were suddenly meeting old friends. The tree done, we settle down and Norman reads the Christmas story from Luke, and we sit on the edge of our seats listening as though we'd never heard the story before. Isn't it odd how we all become children again, wanting to hear the same story over and over again? Isn't it odd, and isn't it wonderful!
Sometimes-often-getting to Pittsburgh or Virginia is exhausting work in the Christmas crush of travelers, through wintry skies, and loaded down with festive packages. So is doing all those pre-holiday tasks of arranging our schedules and getting out into the shopping swirl to purchase all those packages we load ourselves up with. Sometimes-often-I'm tempted to throw up my hands and say, "It's too much! It's just not worth the effort."
But if Norman is around when I begin to get that feeling of exasperation, he'll give me a wink and say, "Long walk, Ruth, long walk," and I'll laugh and get back to work.
"Long Walk" is one of our code signals. Norman and I started using it years ago after reading a little story, which appeared in Guideposts. The story was about an African boy who presented his missionary teacher with an exquisite sea shell as a Christmas gift. The lad had walked many, many miles for it, to a special bay, the only place where such shells could be found.
"I think it was wonderful of you to travel so far to get this lovely gift for me," said the teacher, greatly impressed.
And the boy's eyes brightened as he said, "Long walk, part of gift."
It's true, Christmas is an effort for all of us, but I truly believe that the holiday is made more meaningful, more memorable, because of that effort.
Isn't it a part, a valuable part, of our Christmas gift?
by Ruth Stafford Peale
Nowadays, since our three children are long-married and raising families of their own, Norman and I divide Christmases among them. One year we'll go to Maggie and Paul in Pittsburgh, then another to John and Lydia in Virginia, and the next we'll stay close to home in Pawling, New York with Liz and John.
We keep up the same traditions in each home-the trimming of the tree, everybody in the house together, no one cooking or reading or doing anything but helping with the ornaments that we take out and exclaim over as if we were suddenly meeting old friends. The tree done, we settle down and Norman reads the Christmas story from Luke, and we sit on the edge of our seats listening as though we'd never heard the story before. Isn't it odd how we all become children again, wanting to hear the same story over and over again? Isn't it odd, and isn't it wonderful!
Sometimes-often-getting to Pittsburgh or Virginia is exhausting work in the Christmas crush of travelers, through wintry skies, and loaded down with festive packages. So is doing all those pre-holiday tasks of arranging our schedules and getting out into the shopping swirl to purchase all those packages we load ourselves up with. Sometimes-often-I'm tempted to throw up my hands and say, "It's too much! It's just not worth the effort."
But if Norman is around when I begin to get that feeling of exasperation, he'll give me a wink and say, "Long walk, Ruth, long walk," and I'll laugh and get back to work.
"Long Walk" is one of our code signals. Norman and I started using it years ago after reading a little story, which appeared in Guideposts. The story was about an African boy who presented his missionary teacher with an exquisite sea shell as a Christmas gift. The lad had walked many, many miles for it, to a special bay, the only place where such shells could be found.
"I think it was wonderful of you to travel so far to get this lovely gift for me," said the teacher, greatly impressed.
And the boy's eyes brightened as he said, "Long walk, part of gift."
It's true, Christmas is an effort for all of us, but I truly believe that the holiday is made more meaningful, more memorable, because of that effort.
Isn't it a part, a valuable part, of our Christmas gift?
Comments