The following series is a reproduction of an email I sent to Grishny regarding my Christmas vaction. I thought you folks would enjoy as well. -TS

PART I: CHRISTMAS EVE

I got up Sunday morning bright and early. For once, I actually got ready pretty quickly because I had my suit all set out the night before, and I knew exactly what I was going to wear for Christmas Eve services. I made it over to church EARLY (Amazing since for some reason I have the worst trouble managing to get up and be ready by 8:00 sunday mornings, even though I have to be at work at 8:00 on regular workdays). I stopped my mail kiosk on the way and picked up some cards in my mailbox since I hadn't checked my mail the day before. First notification that today was going to be interesting: I receive a Christmas card from the Ford dealership where I bought my car, and the card was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. *Insert The_Scotsman's Real Name Here*. "MRS. *The_Scotsman*????", I thought, "HOLY SMOKES! Someone found her and forgot to tell me where she is!!!" I pocketed the card to show off at church. After all, it looks like I was happily married all along and simply didn't realize it.

I arrive at church (I drove, only because I was leaving promptly for my parent's church immediately following and it was also bitterly cold outside. I live right across the street from the church I attend) and robed up for choir. We happen to be singing one of my favorite songs for the Christmas season -- Immanuel/Kirie-Eleyson. It was rather moving and made for a perfect start to the Christmas holidays. I shared my card with several of my compatriots in the choir after we were done singing, and then quickly made my exit to race up the interstate in time for services up at my parent's church. I made it in the nick of time -- five minutes after I arrived, the service started. Of course, since my mother was in the choir and my dad is the pastor, I sat by myself in the pew (my younger sister was running later than I and wound up sitting in the back). The service was memorable. My nephews were both in a children's pageant that, while not up to the standards of, say, Broadway, was still enthralling in that "everyone-in-the-cast-is-under-12" kind of way. They also had a guitarist who honestly could cut a recording and make it on the national circuit. My dad spoke of Christmas not only being the arrival of Christ into the world, but it being the start of a destiny that would take our Lord to the cross. It was very thought-provoking, and put the true purpose of Christmas in perspective.

After services, we went out to Tumbleweed for lunch with several friends from church. It was there that I got to meet a friend of my younger sister's from work (though NOT a boyfriend, she insists). This does not deter my nephews from grilling the guy about whether he loves her and when they are going to get married. Needless to say, my sister was beet-red a goodly percentage of our time at lunch. I stayed out of the conversation, of course, since they keep asking me when I am going to get married as well. On this day, I pulled out my card and showed them that SUPRISE, SUPRISE! I already AM married! At least according to my car dealer.

After lunch, I raced back home, packed my things for our trip, wrapped presents, and then went back over to my own church for the 5:00 service. And then the 7:00 service. And, after another half-hour trip to my parent's church, I went to their 9:00 service. The last one was a candlelight service and also had communion with it, which I always enjoy participating in. Though all the services were enjoyable, I hope it isn't considered blasphemy to say that I was serviced-out once the last one ended. Five in one day can take its toll. We arrived back at my parent's at 10:30 or so, and had some homemade pie my mom had made.

At about this time is when my dad dug for himself a DEEP hole. The time is around 11:30pm, which is very important. We were sitting on the couches in the living room, with nothing but the Christmas tree lights on, making small talk, when the conversation came to what Mom and Dad had gotten my nephews for Christmas (they live with my parents). The kids had been put to bed, and the "big" gifts (as we call it) had yet to be brought out and placed ceremoniously near the tree for the kids to see when they jump up at 3:00 Christmas morning wanting to open presents. These gifts are usually the ONE THING that said child has been wanting for months and months and is usually labelled "From Santa". The parental gifts are then the more practical ones like socks, sweaters, pants, and the like. WELL, in talking about what was going to be under the tree this year, we slowly came to an awful realization: Mom thought Dad was going to go get the big gift, while Dad thought Mom was going to get the big gift. Mom had gotten the practical gifts, while Dad had gotten... nothing. In discussion, it seems like Dad simply forgot that he was in charge of the big gift department. In short, Santa would not even be getting the kids COAL for Christmas. There was no time to go purchase the big gifts, since (as was said before) the time was now fast approaching midnight. A passing joke about getting the kids fruit pies from the local Speedway quickie mart as their big gift didn't go over too well.

Unfortunately, my Dad's problems didn't end there. Turns out, sugarplums WEREN'T dancing in the heads of at least one of my nephews, as the older one comes slinking into the room, eyes filled with tears. Un-asleep as he was (probably excited about the following morning, as most kids his age are) he had overheard the key phrase "No big gifts from Santa" and everything went downhill from there. Extrapolating in the 9-year old brain of his, the situation went from "No big gifts" to "No toys at ALL for Christmas". Needless to say, he was quite distressed. I thought, "This is it. If my nephews still believed in Santa after the fiasco of them catching Dad filling the stockings a couple of years back, they won't now." After briefly entertaining a quick thought about a horrible mid-air collision of a flying sleigh with a 747, my dad decided to take the blunt approach. He told my nephew what he (my nephew) had already suspected: Mom and Dad gave him the presents from Santa. There had been some miscommunication. He will be getting his "big gifts" after the holidays when the stores opened again. Not entirely satisfied and certainly less anxious about Christmas now, my nephew went to bed. However, it was a good lesson on the true meaning of Christmas and where our focus should be. My nephew got a lesson on why we give gifts at all on Christmas, that God gave us Jesus on Christmas day as the ultimate gift and sacrifice. Perhaps he learned something though all this, anyways.

Flash-forward a few hours.
(And check out Part II.)

-The_Scots"Merry Christmas??"man