A few years ago, our local paper asked for submissions about our most memorable Christmas. I submitted the following and it was one of the winning entries. Ten years have passed since I shared it here on the PearlyGates list so I thought I would run it again. – Pastor Tim

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dentures in_a_glassI can't say that this was my most memorable Christmas, but it certainly is one that I won't soon forget.

My wife and I had just graduated from Bible College that year (1989) and were living in Toronto. We were hoping to observe Christmas Eve according to my side of the family's tradition. On Christmas Eve the Davis family would settle in at home and enjoy a nice spread of cold cuts, cheeses, and snack foods while enjoying each other's company, Christmas music, and the general ambiance of our decorated tree and lights. For Christmas Day we were planning to drive the hour and half north to my parent's home for Christmas dinner.

We were aware of a couple of individuals at the church, where I was the youth pastor, who would be alone on Christmas Eve. One of them was our neighbour next to the 6-plex in which we lived. Joe was a single American, in his forties, and living alone. The other individual was Stephen. Stephen was very new to Canada. A political refugee, he had just escaped Ghana, Africa, with his life and had no family in North America. Both Joe and Stephen accepted our invitation.

When it came time to gather together, Joe of course walked to our building to join us while I drove to pick up Stephen and bring him to our apartment.
As I went to pick him up I was beginning to feel a bit of a cold coming on, but figured I could fight it off if I just kept warm. It wasn't long before we were all together back at our apartment that we began to converse. It wasn't much later when Joe and Stephen began to argue about American foreign policy in Africa. Although I kept trying to change the subject to something a bit more festive, they kept returning to their argument - each pressing his own case more firmly and loudly. Eventually, I retreated within myself waiting for the chance to call it a night, take Stephen home, and go to bed as my cold was beginning to gain a foothold in my body.

Eventually, my wife and I had endured our guest's arguing long enough that it didn't seem rude when we thanked them for coming and wrapped up our time together. Joe walked home and I drove Stephen to his place - stopping at a gas station along the way to fill the slowly leaking right rear tire on my car. After returning home and parking the car, I glanced back and noticed my tire was now entirely flat thanks to ice that had gotten into the tire valve stem when refilling it. Returning to our apartment I told my wife I would be in the parking lot out back changing the tire on the car. Noticing that I now had a headache and was running a low-grade fever, I put on some extra layers of clothing to try to survive the automotive ordeal that awaited.

Once outside in the bitterly cold Christmas Eve night, I wrestled with the stupid, tiny jack that came with our car in order to get the stupid, flat tire off our car so I could put the stupid, little, tiny spare tire that came with our car on our car to hold that corner barely off the ground. At some point during all of that, and as my body temperature began to grow along with what was now flu like symptoms, my wife appeared at the back door of our building.

She informed me that my mother had called and that a family member, who was expected for Christmas dinner the next day, had had too much to drink the day before. As it turned out, after he was removed from directing traffic in the downtown of my hometown, he promptly emptied the contents of his stomach and in the process of cleaning up, flushed his brand new dentures down the toilet. Mom's request was that I look in our storage area for my grandfather's teeth, which were with some other things in a box from the funeral home that had buried him. The plan was that we would loan the teeth to this relative so they could chew Christmas dinner with us. At this point my wife, two months pregnant and with a very queasy stomach, added her own input and stated that if I did find Grandpa's teeth, and loan them out, that she herself might not be able to eat Christmas dinner.

After finishing changing the tire, and taking the flat indoors, so the ice in the valve stem could melt, the tire be re-inflated and changed again on Christmas morning, I spent the rest of Christmas Eve in the dingy basement of our building, with my head pounding, my body reeling from a fever, while I rifled and shuffled through boxes looking for Grandpa's teeth - which I never did find to the relief of my wife.

None of those events have anything to do with what makes Christmas truly memorable for me, but just the same, I'll not soon forget Christmas 1989.

Copyright 2001, Pastor Tim Davis, All Rights Reserved
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