I Love Elves

I mentioned in one of my earlier posts that "I was a Christmas nut and that I really loved elves".

I'm a 6 foot tall 200+pound former USMC Drill Instructor who has made a large portion of his adult living :

1.) Blowing things up.

2.) Teaching people how to hurt other people.

3.) Yelling at people.

And yet, I love Christmas Elves.

OK, don't get me wrong - I'm now 100% on board w/the true meaning of Christmas.

I now recognize and respect the fact that Christmas is first and foremost about the birth of Christ, our Savior.

But, on a separate level, the mere thought of a "Christmas Elf" can bring a smile to my face and...if I allow it...bring me to uncontrollable tears.

Matter of fact, in my attic, there are right now, at least 50 small "Christmas Elves"...for whom I would risk my life saving if my house was on fire.

It's a McCullough-thing.

Please allow me to explain...

If you've ever read my story, you'll know that I considered the first 12 years of my life to be "as close to Heaven on Earth as possible".

My mom and dad were both teachers. I'm sure that raising 3 sons on teacher's pay in a rural area of Pa was a stretch on their fiscal ability. But they went out of their way to give us a special Christmas every year.

Every year, on the day after Thanksgiving, the Elves would appear.

These Elves would stay until Christmas day.

Each of my brothers and I had an Elf who was "matched" to us and would return to visit us every year.

Each Elf was "assigned to us by Santa". The individual Elf's task was to watch us and ensure that we were good until Christmas and then report back to Santa on his findings.

The Elves also loved to play "hide & seek" with us.

My brothers and I would sit upstairs for a few minutes and then, upon returning downstairs, spend hours looking for them..as they would always "fly" to a new location somewhere in the house.

I cannot begin to explain to you how special this memory of my childhood is.

The Elves are, without question, my most precious memory of a care-free childhood that existed before my parents died.

Even to this day, I honestly have to compartmentalize that memory in order to keep myself from breaking down into tears.

"The Elves" were a family tradition started by my mother's mother - "Ebo" Stewart.

Since becoming parents, my brother John and I have, along w/our wives, kept this family tradition alive w/our own children.

Keara's Elves have not only visited during Christmas-time...but have always also made a special "summer-vacation" visit to her for a week or so every July.

Keara has loved her Elves. For almost 10 years, she's made them their own bed to sleep in. She's marveled at their magical ability to move around the home. She's shown them her clean dinner plate for Santa-reporting-material.

Just like her dad.... and my mom, the grandmother she has never known before her.

Last night, Deena and I sat Keara down and shared the truth with her about Santa, the Elves...and the loving history of our strong family traditions surrounding Christmas.

As a kid who has never known the love of her McCullough grandparents first-hand, she's missed out on a lot...but, true to form, she understood.

She now looks forward to "helping the Elves fly and hide" for her little brother Cooper...and someday passing on this McCullough tradition to her own children and beyond with the 50+Elf surplus in our attic.

Thank you mom. Thank you dad. Thank you grandma. Thank you all for giving me a memory of innocent joy.

Thank you Jesus for giving me a salvation for which I am totally unworthy...so I can one day once again embrace these people.

And now, I can't wait for Deena, Keara and Cooper to meet them too.

And BTW, Jason...Grma Stewart, who is now 94 and the founder of our Elf-tradition...has lived at Parkside for many years and is very grateful for the love Grace has shown her over the years via your "Pancakes at Parkside" program. You and your family were among the first people at Grace to reach out to us...to invite us into your home and make us feel part of the Grace-family.

It's a small world after all.

-Will