Christmas Past

clawmute

In the Brooder
11 Years
Apr 1, 2008
53
3
39
Ouachita Mountains, Arkansas
In my stuff is a wrinkled, smudged piece of note book paper with the attached poem jotted down. I kept it in my Bible so that it would never be lost, and then I moved it to Martha’s Bible. I got it out recently and added it to a picture. My daughter, Joanna wrote this Christmas poem when she was only 12, and I thought you might enjoy it since it is the Christmas season. For the first several years of our children’s lives we did not have a TV (thanks be to God!) and our little ones, being home schooled, and except for church not having that much so called "socialization," were occupied with reading and inventing things to play. Christmas was their favorite time and they would start singing Christmas carols in July! No children past or present loved it more than they. We still have enough decorations to cover the White House inside and out. They had scores of stuffed animals and would play church. The little stuffed creatures were arranged in rows and were the congregation. Nathan and Joanna (Laura was still on Jesus’ knee at that time) would conduct the services with singing and preaching. What a sweet recollection.

We lived in our old, run down drafty trailer in those days and were were poorer than the proverbial church mice. As a matter of fact the church mice felt rich compared to us and would come by and leave offerings of food! A mistake? I worked hard, as hard as any man, but I guess the Lord God was teaching me – no us – something. Nathan and Joanna shared a single bed in those days in the 20 x 20 room I had built on to the old trailer. Their room was 6ft. X 12ft. inside. It contained their single bed, a "chester drawers" and little else since there was no room. They would sleep with their heads at opposite ends of the bed and sometimes it was hard to get them to be still.

One very cold Christmas back in the 80's, Nathan prayed one night that it would snow. We awakened to a six inch covering of white the next morning and Nathan became a solid convert to the power of prayer! We would make pop corn on those frosty winter's nights and watch some bible stories on the "show and tell" screen. We had seen them so many times we could recite the lines along with the narrator but we never tired of it.

We have seen more properous times along with many hard times since those wonderful, wonderful days gone by, but nothing has yet equaled let alone surpassed the memories of those cold snowy Christmases past in that drafty old trailer that was filled to bursting with the love of God and love for one another. “Behold, where ever two or three are gathered in my name, there I am, right in the middle of them!”

I placed her poem on a retouched, fuzzed photo of "our old Christmas tree" that I took a few years ago in out present home.

May God help and bless all of you that believe this Christmas, and through out the coming year. Never have we needed the help of the grown up Christ child more than now. May all of those who do not believe come to know the calloused but gentle hands of the carpenter from Bethlehem.


If you have a home filled with love, then you will never be more prosperous than now.

Merry Christmas....!


ChristmasPast.jpg
 
Joanna, 15, was killed by a drunk driver.

Joanna Lee
00a9.png
2008 All Copyrights remain with the author


by her father, Frank Lee Jennings

Enough, enough of many things
That living life can often bring
Work with trouble, grief with pain
Repeat themselves with oft refrain

Enough I say then turn my gaze
From dark enoughs to brilliant praise
Of things so dear so common place
That daily stream before my face

My constant view now not enough
Of daily common wondrous stuff
To see these faces new each day
And sweetest voices in the way

Not enough of front porch swings
While mountain twilight falls
Or peals of laughter from their rooms
And scuffling in the hall

Not enough the freckled smile
And small arms reaching round
Then little kiss placed on my face
While “love you dad” resounds

Again I say now not enough
Of daily common wondrous stuff
Not things but loved ones to hold dear
Hour by hour and year by year

Then supper time, five gather round
The table where we pray
With hands all joined and giving thanks
That Jesus made a way

To be together once again
To gaze on each dear face
To hear each voice, so dear so dear
And know it’s all his grace

Joanna Lee, our dear fair girl
Went home at supper time
To be with God who took her hand
And at his table dine

She joins her hands to millions there
Who gather round God’s throne
She sees and knows and meets again
The others God called home

Now supper time four gather round
The table where we pray
With hands all joined, and giving thanks
That God has made a way

To be together once again
To gaze on each dear face
To hear each voice, so dear so dear
And know it’s all his grace

It won’t be long till supper time
We all again shall be
Gathered round a table where
Joanna’s face we’ll see

And our dear savior with us all
His nail scarred hand in ours
In a place where feasting never ends
On tables made from flowers

And I shall say then “It’s enough”
Since all that’s there shall be
Peace and beauty without end
Through all eternity
 
This is really so touching, both poems are exceptional.

Your words in this post bring home to everyone the true meaning of Christmas and of family. Thank you so much for sharing this with us.

I am sure this little poem is truely treasured and what a wonderful memory of your darling daughter.

Bless you and your family,

Jena.
 

New posts New threads Active threads

Back
Top Bottom