Every family has characters. Most in my family have passed away. And with them, the attributes, antics, and eccentricities that made them who they were. Those who remain are certainly characters, but the distance of years, miles, and beliefs separate us.

Many branches of our family tree didn’t grow. The end was the end, which accurately describes my branchlet.

I know the addresses of four people on my family tree. Three live in the same house. Two are under two years old. That branch is doing well!

None are within a thousand miles.

As people pass, so has much of Christmas tradition. But not Christmas.

The Gift


Traditions pass away
When the people
Of tradition
Pass away.

Christmas isn’t

Christmas is
Good News
A miracle
A promise
Above all, love.

When traditions fade
And the old guard is
Remember the Gift.

The Gift
Forever new
Forever true
That cannot pass away.


Reviving Christmas Tradition

Uncle Lawrence was one of the great characters of the family. He passed away three years ago without children. Just one niece (me) and one nephew.

The simple tradition of an original Christmas poem passed away with him. I miss it. And whether from genetics or desire, I’m resurrecting it. Thus, The Gift.

The miracle of Christmas is peace. Peace between sinful men and a Holy God.

Immanuel. God with us. God in us.

The phrase “free gift” is oxymoronic. Every gift is free or it isn’t a gift.

The gift of a Savior is free. The only requirement is acceptance.

May you be covered in blessing this Christmas – then pass them along to others.

Love, Lynn