Heaven was buzzing with excitement. The time to save the world from sin had finally arrived. Angels gathered from the four corners of the universe at the throne of their Creator to watch the mission commence. “I wonder how He’s going to do it,” one angel sang in excitement. Several fluttered around to marvel at the thought. Soon, a huge chorus broke out from anticipation.

“We’ll march in like an army and destroy Satan and all his minions from the earth in the name of our God most high!” they shouted.

But their battle cry was interrupted by a trumpet blast. Michael, the Arch Angel, hushed the legions as all eyes fixed on the Son.

As always, His splendor filled the skies, but to their shock, he stepped off his throne, laid down his scepter and took off his crown. His eyes were filled with pools of tears as He and His Father embraced. Confusion began to permeate the heavenly chambers when He draped his robe over His Father’s arm.

“What is this? The Son of God, without a crown?” His servants whispered in disbelief.

The starry curtain was opened and all could see God’s chosen people crying out under the oppression of Roman rule.

“Surely He will smite their enemies and restore their kingdom,” another angel concluded.

But no call was made for assembling troops. No plans for war were discussed. Instead, the Son stepped to the edge of the clouds, disappeared, then silently tucked Himself into the womb of a young Hebrew girl. Instantly, the angel Gabriel had his orders and was standing in the virgin’s bedroom to announce the King’s arrival.

Mystified angels stood in the atmosphere watching the entire advent. How could the King of kings, the Lord of lords put Himself in such a vulnerable place? Why would the Master of the Universe, Maker of all creation put Himself inside the flesh of a mere mortal? What kind of strategy uses poverty to conquer evil? What type of plan calls a ruler to submit to his subjects in order to save them?

The One who the angels worship day after day, the epitome of love, was now in the hands of sinful flesh. And, although they closely watched each moment of His earthly birth, they still could not fathom the reason for the Father’s permission of such an unthinkable tactic to save the world. Who would sacrifice their only son to pay the debt of those who hated him?

Regardless of God’s reasons, these angelic messengers were not going to miss an opportunity to praise Him. To them, the reason was irrelevant. He is worthy of their worship whether He was on a throne or in a manger. And so, on a silent night, while the Christ child slept in swaddling clothes lying on a bed of hay in a cow’s trough, the angels burst through the stars and joyously proclaimed His birth to a small audience of humble shepherds - not knowing that God’s plan to save the world would lead their precious King to a cruel cross.

The scriptures say that angels desire to look into God’s mysterious gift of salvation to mankind (1 Peter 1:12). If, then, the very angels who stand in the presence of God should marvel at such a gift, why is it so difficult for us to accept it? Could it be because we, as the Israelites, reject the concept of love being laid in a nasty manger - of salvation coming not through an infiltration of weapons, but through a humble death on a cross?

Hark! The herald angels are still singing - listen to their proclamation: you will find Him … lying in a manger.

We’re in a huge home-improvement store where folks looking to improve or add on to a home find endless supplies and items. To the creative soul, such merchandise conjures up all sorts of imaginative floor plans. To the non-visionary, it’s not a very interesting place to visit. We’re simply tag-alongs, waiting for our shopping companions to finish. We walk up and down the aisles, while I chatter incessantly so she doesn’t get fussy. It’s not easy entertaining a 20-month old in a place where lumber and construction materials reign supreme.

It’s still weeks before the holiday season “officially” begins even though no one is quite sure any longer when it does begin. But in our trek throughout the store, we spot holiday decorations. There’s nothing lavish about them, but to her, they are an absolute wonder. She is enthralled over the bear that jumps up and down, the reindeer that sings, and the musical Christmas trees. Quite honestly it all looks somewhat tacky to me, but her eyes are less discriminating. She laughs loudly and repeatedly while customers smile broadly as they watch her.

The familiar refrain of seeing the wonder of Christmas through the eyes of a child runs through my mind. I’m grateful to be in this large store with my granddaughter, Lili, and to see, really see the absolute wonder and joy of the season. It’s certainly true that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and so is appreciation for what we perceive as lovely and attractive. To me the decorations are uneventful. To her, they represent what we strive for every Christmas season with our shopping and decorating.

A few weeks later, still a bit before “the season” is in full swing, I visit a large store’s toy department. I’m looking for accessories suitable for Lili and Emma, my older granddaughter by five weeks. They both like playing babies and they need bottles and dishes and blankets for their baby dolls. Shopping for them is pure pleasure. Their toys are affordable, no assembly required, and the kind that are familiar to grandmas. No batteries or directions are necessary. Just an imagination and creative role-playing can transform the simplest toys into a magic world of pretend. Besides, grandmas love buying dolls! I can remember playing with dolls and I remember buying them for my own daughters.

Gift buying and giving often present dilemmas each year. While I’m not convinced that Christmas presents should be only for children, I do believe that innocence and reduced expectations have a huge impact on the gift giver and recipient. Sometimes it seems as though we’ve veered far away from the original intent of giving gifts. They are meant to be given with generosity and thoughtfulness and received with appreciation and a similar measure of thoughtfulness. Anything less simply devalues the meaning of gift giving at Christmas and any time throughout the year.

Christmas with all its commercialism, religious significance, festivities, and certain frustrations is truly a celebration for the young at heart. It requires believing that the world can be transformed by goodness and love even when such a belief surpasses our understanding. And it invites us to share peace and good will generously with others not just at Christmas but throughout each day of the year.

Another Thanksgiving and another self examination and reflection on my life. It was nine years ago Thanksgiving eve that my dear husband, Jack, left this physical life, and changed my life forever after. I think many times of both the bad and good that comes with the passage of life. I love the part of being old where I can do what I want, say what I want (without hurting anyone) and pretty much do what I want. Of course there is the other side of the rainbow, I don’t have a partner to share life with, my body is giving me more trouble than it ever did, and I could care less about things I used to think were vital, like keeping a clean house. One of the good things about that is that I can clean it up when I need to, but it doesn’t hold the importance that it used to. I can go to a show when I choose to or call a friend to go with, but when I get home I don’t have anyone to discuss it with. I can stay up as late as I’d like reading, but again there is no one to share the elements of a book. I can spend my money however I want, but fewer people to spend for. I can cook up a big dinner, but short of calling Jason, my son, to come over, I have no one to share it with. I think the two terms that most exemplify my life is freedom, but a lack of sharing and companionship.

It seems that one is not so good without the other. Having the wisdom I’m supposed to have now along with the wrinkles of getting older aren’t as much fun when you have no one to compare with, and laugh about it together. I have a card on my frig which a student gave me years ago during my teaching days that says, “It takes the rain and the sun to make a rainbow.” That is so very true, I know I am blessed to have had Jack in my life for forty seven years and the joys of being a mother and a grandmother for twenty four, and forty two years, and I try very hard to look at it that way. But sometimes it is hard, and I sit down and cry for what I’ve lost, but the next day I am grateful for the many blessings I have now. I compare myself to a family in Iraq, Afghanistan, Kosovo, or many places where families are separated or even lost forever. I am lucky and blessed in many ways.

I am so fortunate to be an American and have a roof over my head, money to buy food, and pay my utilities and even some disposable income to spend. I can very well get carried away griping about the many things that are happening right now like the war, the arrogance of so many in power and our demise as a world leader, but I know it is wonderful that I have the freedom to say it. I am very afraid with the Patriot Act and other run arounds by the administration that some of those freedoms are being lost. And isn’t that why so many people want to immigrate to America? Our fore mothers and fathers felt the same way and came for that freedom. I know we need to remember that all of our ancestors came from somewhere else, because the near destruction of the Native American population left few true Native Americans.

I am late with this column, so it may not get in, but I had such a great Thanksgiving with friends at my church. Jason and I went with a family sized group and shared our thanks and our bounty. And it is truly bounty. I always feel a little guilty about getting so stuffed, but I guess I defend myself by saying it’s the American way. But that is not a good way, and I hope to go out next year and volunteer rather than making a pig of myself again. Although there is something to be said about making a pig of yourself once in a great while, so maybe it’s okay occasionally.

I am going to cut this short by mentioning just a few of the books I read this month. I read Forever by Pete Hamil which was quite a story from a different perspective. I so enjoyed that one that I read another of his called Snow in August. Not as sweeping a saga as Forever but very enjoyable and fun to read. I recommend him as a writer. He is a New Yorker and a well-known journalist which makes a great combination. I read a light novel by Nora Roberts called High Noon which held my attention for a couple hours, though not a great read.

I am now reading The Legend of Starship by Dolores Cannon. This is an interesting look at regression therapy and the work of Cannon who tells the story of a patient who lived many years ago, and relates the story of a ship crashing on earth. A fascinating look from a whole different viewpoint. I tend to believe in much that is not readily acceptable to many, so this has been a great read for me. Try something different in your reading this month!

When my great grandparents - the Callahans, moved westward from North Carolina, not once did they forsee all the wonderful miseries they were about to enjoy. Finding Ohio somewhat sort of “Eden,” Julius and Martha migrated to the hills of Kentucky where they settled to raise a family. It wasn’t long before they were ready for the poorhouse. Nowadays no one under 70 has ever heard of a poorhouse, let alone seen one. Those places existed long before welfare, food stamps and all the other good things so many people enjoy today. In desperation, Julius built a small blacksmith shop where he shod horses and did blacksmith work. Occasionally you could hear the rhythm of the hammer on the anvil echoing along the rocky hillside or across the valley - depending on where you might be at the time.

If you happened to see two big mules hitched to an old farm wagon and a third mule tied to the back of the wagon, it was John Peabody seeking blacksmith repairs. What that 3rd mule was for, no one knew or dared ask why.

From my grandmother - one of the Callahan siblings, I learned that her family’s kitchen was the most used room in their house. Baking bread n that kitchen was her mother’s greatest achievement. It provided a secure foundation for Martha’s family - a foundation she could point to with pride.

Can baking bread today do this? Probably not, but it was once a time when children knew where their mothers were and they knew they were loved.

A huge oilcloth-covered table was the center of most activities. School work, reading and games such as cat’s cradle and the like. Martha braided rugs or embroidered during these get-to-gethers. She also knitted, worked on a quilt or did mending and sewing.

The midnight snacks (as they were called) came along about eight o’clock in the evening. They consisted mainly of tea, homemade bread, butter, various jellies and dark apple butter. Besides tea, there was both kinds of milk. Sweet milk (as fresh milk was called back then) and buttermilk. The latter usually sparkled with specks of yellow butter which gave it that extra touch.

And, their table was also used for regular meals. Even before the “blessing,” water for the dishes was being heated on that same wood-burning stove. The stove was still good-n-hot from all the cooking.

After the meal, no one ever complained about doing dishes. Although it was difficult without running water, the youngsters weren’t tempted by alternatives. There was no T.V. programs they wouldn’t have missed, no malls or sports events to race off to - no nothing. That oilcloth table was the center of it all.

Without fitness machines or a desire to jog around in their underpants, how did they stay slim and healthy? “The worked and did all the wrong things.”

According to our analysts, folks back then did everything wrong. Since those people lived to be 90 - 100 years old, there must be something these analysts have overlooked - like “what contributed to their longevity.” Could it be any of the following?

For breakfast they had two or three cholesterol infested eggs, potatoes fried in lard, ham or sausage, a stack of pancakes smothered in butter and coffee doused with real cream.

At noon they ate more meat, mashed potatoes-n-gravy, vegetables, a salad and all items salted to taste. A similar meal was served at night and both were tapered off with cake or pie.

Family members breathed air from hog pens and stinky barns. They ingested fumes from oil lamps and drank branch water. The boys carried guns when nine or ten years old to replenish the food supply. Those same kids swam and played in muddy creeks and millponds. They climbed trees and barked their shins and mothers removed splinters with soiled needles or greasy paring knives.

This is a small list of things people did wrong before analysts came along and straightened things out.

Even though it doesn’t seem that Christmas should be around the corner, all the tell-tale signs are there. Traffic patterns have been adjusted. Lines are longer at eating establishments. And, parking lots are replete with the sights, sounds and smells of everyone’s “special” Christmas tree. What lends to the significance of that “special” tree is the rich history which comes with it. David Robson, Extension Horticulture Educator, provides some insight in this rich history.

“When you set up and decorate your Christmas tree, you will be partaking in a tradition with its origins in antiquity. The Egyptians, Romans and Druids all used decorated trees in celebrating the winter solstice long before the dawn of Christianity.

Most historians agree that use of an evergreen tree as part of the Christmas celebration started about 400 years ago in Germany. There is a legend that one Christmas Eve, Martin Luther was journeying through the pine forest. He was inspired by the sight of thousands of stars twinkling through the branches of the trees. When he arrived home, he cut down a fir tree and covered it with small candles so that the children might know what the heavens were like.

The custom was introduced in England when Victoria married German Prince Albert. Victoria commanded that a green tree be brought into the palace each year and decorated for Christmas as it might have been in Albert’s homeland. Hessian mercenaries brought the custom to the U.S. during the American Revolution.

Here in Illinois, the first Christmas trees were set up in 1804. Soldiers stationed at Fort Dearborn hauled trees from surrounding woods to their barracks during the Christmas season.

Today, over 90 percent of the fresh trees come from Christmas tree farms. Growing Christmas trees isn’t an easy business. It takes from four to over 12 years for a seedling to mature into a saleable tree. During that time, it must be trained, pruned and protected from many hazards. Trees can suffer from too little or too much sun or rain; destructions by rodents, deer, insects, diseases, hail or fire; or being overgrown by brush, vines or weeds.

While they are growing, Christmas trees provide many environmental benefits. Each acre of trees provides the daily requirements of oxygen for 18 people. The trees serve as wildlife habitat and stabilize the soil. Often Christmas trees are planted on barren slopes or under power lines where no other crops will grow.

More than 35 million American families will buy natural Christmas trees this year. Nearly 100 million seedlings are planted to replace harvested trees. One million acres are now planted each year with Christmas trees in the United States.

The most popular trees nationwide are Scotch pine, Douglas fur, balsam fir, white pine and Fraser fir, with this last one moving up quickly.

After the holidays, Christmas trees can be “recycled” in a number of ways. Christmas trees are biodegradable. Branches may be used for cover in the garden. The entire tree may be chipped for mulch. Threes sunk in fishponds or lakes make excellent refuge and feeding areas.

Or you can use the tree as a bird feeder and wildlife shelter. Hang suet cakes, fruit or popcorn on the branches to attract feathery friends.

This year, while you enjoy your Christmas tree, you can be sure that not only are you participating in an ancient tradition, but that it is an ecologically responsible thing to do as well.

If you have any other horticulture question, call Roger. A. Larson, County Director at the Peoria County Extension Office at 309-685-3140.