CHRISTMAS CARD 1998; YULETIDE OF YESTERYEAR WAS MUCH DIFFERENT, BUT SPIRIT LIVES ON.

Byline: Keith Davies

When I was a lad, Christmas had a different meaning than it does today.

Maybe not a different meaning, but people had a different attitude. We loved getting presents, decorating the tree, dropping hints to grandmother, grandfather, and Mom and Dad, but it was the sense of family that made it different. The continuity of remembering for whom, and why, we celebrated Christmas.

Although our family wasn't a very religious family, we celebrated the laughter and kindness of those we loved and glorified the season by helping others less fortunate. We made and delivered the ``Gifts of the Magi'' in baskets in which all the family contributed something.

It was drummed into our minds, early in life by our parents to rejoice in the season by remembering why we celebrated the birth of Christ. To remind us and reward our souls with selfless acts of kindness. Each child was aware, our parents recited it often enough, ``There, but by the grace of God, go I.''

Being polite and respectful to others, no matter their circumstance, was as much of a kindness to them as it was to ourselves. The size of their homes; how much money they had; the color of their skin; and the clothes they wore were never reasons to impugn anyone's right to respect. Each person deserved common courtesies, and implied decency.

We smiled at everyone we met on the streets. Kids didn't fight or squabble as much as they did the rest of the year. Everyone made wishes of prosperity for everyone else less fortunate than themselves and hoped everyone the promised peace. Even before I was born, Mom and Dad filled baskets with food and toys and delivered them to people less fortunate. Mom always called their baskets ``The Gifts of the Magi.'' Mom baked cakes, and bread, and cookies. Dad made whirligigs, toy soldiers, trucks, trains and birdhouses.

The entire family put the gifts into baskets, and Dad, disguised as Santa Claus, delivered them.

Christmas Eve, after Dad delivered the baskets, the family gathered around the Christmas tree, which filled out beautifully as the lights and ornaments were placed, just so, on each bough. The older kids were allowed to separate the tiny and fragile tinsel, strand by strand, and place a single strand on each needle of every branch. It made the tree shimmer and glow. The same way it looked when we found it that foggy morning growing in the woods.

Dad said the tree was to make Santa feel welcome, but Mom said it was to let the baby Jesus know he was always welcome in our home. Personally, I liked the idea of Santa feeling welcome. Maybe if he felt he was, he would give each of us what we wanted for Christmas.

Mom would recite, as each ornament was hung on the tree, who had given us the ornament or where she or Dad had bought it. There were ornaments from Dad's mother, and ornaments from Mom's mom, too. Mom said each ornament was to remind us we were part of a bigger family, the family of mankind. Some commemorated each new addition to the family, and there was one for each year they had been married.

After all the mess was cleaned up, when all the boxes were stowed away, Mom would bring out mugs of hot spiced cider, and Dad would read `` 'Twas the Night Before Christmas.'' Then it was bedtime, to bed to dream of Santa Claus and his eight tiny reindeer, of snow falling outside our windows, carolers' serenades and whatever present we hoped would be under the tree Christmas morning.

No. Christmas hasn't changed. It is still a time to pray for the peace we long for. A time to remember those who have trod this path before. A time to hold those we love near to our hearts, and hope everyone finds peace within themselves.

Some memories are branded on our souls and never fade.