THIS is Christmas

Season of Giving by Sahlin Studio
Part of a two-page layout:

Journaling reads:
It all started in 1947. My grandfather, John E. Gaerte, who had returned from fighting in WWII in 1945, was sitting in Christmas Eve service at the Zion Lutheran church in North Manchester, IN. His girlfriend, Kathryn Gillespie, whom his sister had introduced to him after his return, was sitting next to him. My grandfather slipped an engagement ring on Katy's finger as the pastor gave the sermon and the choir sang, only with a catch - he had turned it around to the bottom side of her hand and wouldn't let her see what it was until the service was over! John and Katy married in March of 1948, and our family tradition was born.
I don't remember a year when we didn't go to Christmas Eve service at Grandma and Grandpa's church. And I think it is a very fitting end to the day as we celebrate Christ's birthday! Here's how the day usually went: Mom had made a gazillion cookies, which she and I packaged up on plates and distributed to our neighbors and close friends. When we were younger we would all go as a family, whether we liked it or not. :) Then Mom would make a big, fancy dinner and we'd dress up a bit. Dad's side of the family would come over to our house for dinner. This included Grandma Katy, Grandpa John, Aunt Marcia, Uncle John, Jenna and John William, along with Mom, Dad, Mark, and I. We would eat so many hors d'oeuvres and cookies and candy that we wouldn't need any dinner, but we ate some anyway. Then we would open
gifts. After that we piled in the car and headed to church. Many times we battled snow storms and ice. But somehow we always made it.
There is something magical about the Christmas Eve service. I don't know if it's the amazing organ or the fabulous choir or just the fact that it is Christmas Eve. I always look forward to hearing the songs the choir sings on that night. And I always look forward to hearing the message from the pastor. For most of the years I remember, the pastor at Grandma and Grandpa's church was an endearing man named Jeff Hawkins. This man of God and Christmas go hand in hand for me. Each year Jeff would tell a story amidst the reading of the Christmas story from the book of Luke. Sometimes the story was from the perspective of the shepherds who were on the hills of Bethlehem. Sometimes it was from the
perspective of Mary or even someone from our current time. Each year was an interesting and vulnerable look at the miracle of God becoming human for us, with us. I have told my husband before that it is as if each of those stories
put Jesus in the palm of my hand. There is a closeness, an intimacy that those stories evoked. I always lost myself in each of the stories. My heart was always deeply touched. I really felt that God moved in those services. He moved
closer to us as we reached out to Him on those Christmas Eve nights. It made me want more and more of God.
I have always said that Christmas Eve was my favorite day of the year. This family tradition, as well as the closeness of the Spirit of God are surely the reason this day is so special to me.