Showing posts with label Mark Jones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark Jones. Show all posts

Monday, December 12, 2011

Won't Be Home for Christmas

This is the seventh in a series of posts written by my brother, Tom.  His son, Mark, and Mark's wife, Carol, are indirectly responsible for the "Turner Schedule"  becoming the new "rule" as our children start their own families.

Christmas at the Jones household is straight out of the Hallmark Hall of Fame rule book.  This is the way it has been since I was a child, and the traditions have carried forward to my children, now grown.  Regardless of circumstances, heroic efforts must be made to arrive smiling with grandchildren and presents at the appointed time. 

Mark, Savannah and Carol (Turner) Jones
Mark is the son of the author, my brother, Tom
You can imagine my dismay when one year I was told that two of our three children were going to go on the “Turner schedule”.  The “Turner schedule”, what’s that? I protested.  “Its simple Dad” explained my son.  “It is named after my wife’s family, and they alternate every other Thanksgiving and Christmas with their in-laws.  All the kids and in-laws maintain the same schedule, that way we don’t have to spend half the day on the road and we can relax and enjoy each others' company for the day.”  My daughter, that year having spent hours of delay in a massive snow storm trying to arrive home for Christmas, loved the idea and immediately signed up for the same plan with her husband’s family.  (Note: the grandchildren would be on the same schedule as their parents!)

I knew that the rules had changed and that Christmas, my favorite time of year, was going to be very quiet every other year.  My wife assured me that things would be OK, and besides we could celebrate Christmas as a family on a convenient weekend anytime in December or even January.  I recognize right from wrong…and this was wrong!

That following Christmas, our family scheduled an early December weekend for our own celebration and to my obstinate surprise the day was exceptional.  All of the traditions were observed yet there was a surprising lack of hurry and hustle to the day.  No one had to rush off to another commitment, no re-arranging the day to watch a particular football game, nothing; just conversation, food, family and enjoying the grandchildren as they played with their toys. 

Well I have successfully survived several years of the “Turner schedule” and recently learned that over 100 connected family members have adopted the same schedule.  I have to admit that I now prefer the off years.

I’ve also been reminded that another family was not home for Christmas but stranded in a stable nearly 2000 years ago.  In those days Ceasar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.  And everyone went to his own town to register.


So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazarath in Galilee, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.  He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.  While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.  She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

This Christmas, we will celebrate with you the birth of the Savior.  Regardless of what day or where you are, we can all focus on the things that are eternally important.
Wood Block Credit: http://www.ghgcollectibles.com

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Real Meaning of Christmas

This post is the second in a series of posts written by my brother, Tom.  They will be posted throughout the month of December.

Elf from Shillito Window 
I was in the fall of my early grade school years when it was confirmed, about Santa Clause that is.  I had easily figured out the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny but Santa was big step and after all, I wanted to believe!  But undeniable evidence came one afternoon walking home from school with two of my buddies.  Ted Middleburg and Tom Forte were two of the coolest guys in my class and they were talking about the new kid in school, they didn’t like him.  As they elevated their status by putting down the new kid it happened!  “He’s so stupid he still believes in Santa Clause”.  Ouch!  There it was independent confirmation.




As one of the oldest of 7 Jones kids, I had a sacred trust to keep this discovery top secret.  My older sister verified this fact and told me she had kept it from me not wishing to ruin my fun.  She had found Christmas presents in the attic a couple of years earlier and had filled in the blanks.  Was I the only one who had been so slow to realize? 

Crowd Outside of a Shillito Department Store Christmas Window, 1970

With five younger siblings, my sister and I doubled our effort to continue the childhood fantasy for them.  Like actors in a B movie, we took it upon ourselves to explain the multiple Santa Clause’s in the stores at Christmas.  We became experts in identifying the “real Santa” as opposed to his helpers.  “Is that the real Santa?”  my brothers would ask, no, that’s one of his helpers, the real Santa is in Candy Land at Shillitos I would explain.  We even went as far as pressing my father’s boot into the fireplace ashes on Christmas Eve in order to eagerly point to the footprints on Christmas morning.
Mark Jones and Santa

Years later while Christmas shopping with my young family my son Mark looked at me and announced “Dad, I know Santa is really you and Mom”.  I confirmed his suspicion and quickly cautioned him to keep it a secret so that he would not ruin it for his younger sister.  Something happened, Mark dropped his head and he lost the sparkle in his eyes, you see, right then he still wanted believe in Santa, he needed me to keep the dream alive just a little longer he was not quite ready to have dad put it to rest so quickly.  That night as I tucked him into bed, he looked at me and asked, “Dad is Jesus real?”  I was heartsick!  In a matter of moments I had ruined the childhood fantasy I worked so hard to keep alive in my siblings years earlier and caused my son to question the real meaning of Christmas, the Birth of the Savior. 

Mark is grown now and we both have become wiser.  We can walk through the mall at Christmas and identify the “real Santa” from his helpers.  And we know without a doubt that the angles were right when they announced to the shepherds 2000 years ago “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.  Today in the city of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord”.

Photo Credits:  The two pictures from the Shillito Christmas Windows were found using google images.  I could not establish copyright.