There wasn't much to celebrate that Christmas in 1943. Then things changed...
Posted in , Dec 15, 2015
’Tis the season for miracles! In today’s guest blog post, writer Jeanette Hammel shares the story of a Christmas she’ll never forget. One that proved to her the true miracle of friendship…
My story happened in 1943 when I was 13 years old. Growing up, my dad worked at a lot of jobs. We always had the necessities of life–just more or less some days. And then World War II started. Dad was drafted. Mother went to work in the local defense plant, packing parts for shipping overseas. I learned to cook and help around the house.
As Christmas neared, that first year Dad was away, I wondered what we’d have to celebrate. Mother and I were all alone. Her relatives lived in nearby Greenville, Illinois, but gas was rationed. We didn’t have enough to get us there and back.
Then something happened that I’ll never forget. Our neighbors around the corner invited us over for Christmas Eve, even though they too were affected by the war. They had five kids–two were in the service. No one had a lot to spend.
And yet, as we gathered around the tree, two presents appeared, as if from out of nowhere. Stationary for Mother. A set of lace handkerchiefs for me. How in the world? To my heart, it felt like a miracle.
I used those handkerchiefs for many years, until they were worn out, always remembering that Christmas long ago. We didn’t have much back then. But we had friends. What better miracle could you ask for?
Do you have a favorite Christmas memory or miracle? Share your story below!