Keeping Christmas

By Rebecca Fisher

Full from the evening’s feast - a non-traditional potluck of spaghetti, garlic bread and salad - we gather around and grow quiet as he opens his bible and thumbs carefully through the pages, searching for the passage we hear every Christmas Eve. We fill in every inch of space on the sofa, love seat and wooden chairs carried in from each of our hotel rooms, gathered here from every corner of California.


There are twenty-five of us on average, each one with our eyes now on the patriarch. At ninety-one, his hearing is nearly gone, but his intent and determination unwavering. He reads, voice straining, of the highly favored Mary and obedient Joseph. My heart aches as the story unfolds…no room for our king, born in a stable…come in the most vulnerable of forms and into the humblest of circumstances…sought after by a merciless and cowardly ruler…soon to be mocked, scourged and crucified…sent to save us all by carrying the weight and curse of our sins. Through tears I rejoice with the heavenly host… “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace and good will toward men.” He closes with a word of prayer and a reminder of the love of story-telling handed down to us all by my grandmother, who passed in 1999. He fights back a tear or two, thanking God for His son and our salvation. We wipe the tears from our eyes and prepare for the main event of the evening.

A stage is set, taking up the remaining part of the living room and the very humble kitchen. The scripts are passed to each of us according to our part in the play. It’s A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, adapted into its current form nearly fifty years ago by my grandmother. This play, born in a small California living room to seven children and their parents, is a tradition that has persevered through four generations and many different locales. We each take our role with anticipation and speak the words of Dickens who beautifully emphasizes family, thanksgiving, compassion and charity as the true spirit of Christmas, our true purpose here on Earth. Newcomers, whether new spouses or otherwise, are initiated with the role of the dead body of Ebenezer Scrooge. They resist the idea briefly, but eventually serve out their sentence, mercifully hidden beneath a make-shift shroud. We sing Christmas Carols as the scenes transition and the narrator unfolds the changing heart of Ebenezer…Silent Night, Joy to the World and finally, We Wish You a Merry Christmas with great emphasis on the figgy pudding.

Despite our lack of props, costumes and stage space, the story told year after year brings joy to everyone involved, mostly my grandfather, a retired Naval Captain, who has heard the story countless times, enjoying it no less tonight. He sits back and smiles, likely reminiscing of years gone by, years with his wife and children in that living room many moons ago.

The evening concludes with my grandfather dressed as Santa Claus (never breaking character, I might add), and passing out gifts to the family, helped of course by the youngest in the room who serve as his elves. Gifts range from homemade fudge and cookies to handcrafted book marks, scarves and jewelry. They mean so much more coming from the heart, much like the Magi who offered their praise with all they had. The day is a frenzy of preparation for this evening with food cooking, gift wrapping and multiple trips to the store across the street.

When Christmas morning arrives and after presents are opened and the customary waffles consumed in the third floor hotel room, we pack our bags, load the car and head back home, grateful for family, traditions and the gift of Jesus. Back home, while the world continues to water down the true meaning of Christmas with big red bows and holiday trees, we remember. We remember because every year we gather together and hear the true story of the holy infant and because we count on the promises He brings. And every day following, we count down to the next Christmas Eve celebration and wait with anticipation for our role in the play.




Rebecca Fisher graduated with a B.A. in English and an M.S. in Education, and teaches high school English. Her own experiences living in a mortuary in Northern California and raising her daughter on her own serve as the inspiration for the many macabre and eccentric encounters in her novel. She lives in California with her husband and two daughters.


All the Wrong Places is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble online, and the Rebecca’s website (www.RebeccaFisherBooks.com) in both paperback and e-book format.