Grinch Beat down

Grinch Beat down

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Even though my parents always spoiled us for Christmas,

We knew what this season was really about.

We were asked to give up some of our favorite presents so

others could feel the joy and love of receiving service.

We were giving gifts and serving others as we tried to 

de commercialize our own Christmas season.

These experiences allowed me to look 

for opportunities to serve on my mission.

Those experiences were very good, and after years away from that full time

service, today it was rekindled.

I flew home on the 23rd, and was greeted in Utah with a chest cold and 

17 degrees chill at night.

Christmas Eve, as my mother and I were making her homemade cheesecake,

OUR CHRISTMAS TREE FELL DOWN!

ha.

Later than night, my nephew and I were rough housing it and 

he fell on my face.

I woke up with a black eye and that  chest cold,

 overwhelming my ability to

jump out of bed.

But I did it anyways.

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I went to church with my parents and little brother.

My father was asked to speak.

He is assigned as a branch clerk over the 

Wasatch Care Center. Assisted Care and or Rest Home.

As we walk in, we are embraced by very old smiles and those typical smells.

I feel bad for noticing the scent.

We set up chairs as employees wheel patients in, creating rows instead of pews.

The portable pulpit sits infront of a stone fire place.

The sacrament is prepped on a small round dinner table, where my Father lays the

table cloth out.

There is Christmas music playing from the television, its the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

I begin feeling the spirit, as I look around. There are more patients that visitors.

The T.V. is turned off and we are welcomed to the meeting by a member of the bishopric.

We begin by singing Christmas songs.

     Be near me, Lord Jesus, 

       I ask Thee to stay

      Close by me forever, 

      and love me, I pray.

    Bless all the dear children 

in thy tender care,

And take us to heaven, 

to live with Thee there. 

 My father and little brother prepare the sacrament.

The sacrament is blessed and two gentlemen begin passing it to the congregation.

One of them is an adult, with the mind of a 12 year old. Later my mother 

tells me how much he loves hugs. I wish I would have known that earlier.

I love hugs too.

Later, my father also tells me how smart he is.

The patients on the front row can't partake of the sacrament themselves.

In that very moment, the sacrament and it's meaning is magnified.

It's Christmas, and now it's meaning is magnified.

My father was always about us giving to others that could not give to themselves.

Christmas has always been about giving to others that cannot give to themselves.

And now its Sunday, Christmas. 

The Atonement is magnified in my heart as I watch an older grandmotherly woman helping others.

She gets up from her seat along the side of the wall.

Her back is bent a little, but she gets the bread for those patients who cannot use their hands.

She hand feds them the bread and places it in their mouth.

I think of the stories in the New Testament and

the Book of Mormon.

I think of the Savior,

I am full of emotion as this women feeds the sacrament to those who can't do it for themselves.

Even though this care center is located on the busiest east bench street in Ogden, 

I can't hear the traffic anymore, and I can't smell the 

aged perfumes and scents.

The sacrament ends and I'm overwhelmed by the spirit.

I simply want to cry.

My Father approaches the pulpit to share his Christmas message,

He begins by quoting 

"The Grinch who stole Christmas."

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, 
stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.” 
― Dr. Seuss

There was more to his message, which was very good.

But today, I learned more about the Sabbath and Christmas,

and the relation that have to each other.

Weeks ago, my parents called me in Connecticut and

inquired what I wanted to Christmas,

and only one thing came to my mind.

I wanted a personal copy of my parents favorite doctrinal books.

My dad bought me Christ and the New Covenant by

Jeffrey R. Holland

And my mother bought me her favorite doctrinal books:

The best gift I received

was the very gift of opening my heart to

renew my testimony of the Savior, that He lives,

and through his teachings, I can return to Him one day.