Christmas always ignites vivid memories of Christmases past, so my mind is in memory mode as we fast approach another Christmas Day.
One Christmas that was unforgettable to a six-year-old boy was when my parents decided I needed a doll for Christmas! You read that right, a doll! I am not sure why I was so lucky. Maybe since I had three sisters, they were just in the doll-buying mood. But, for whatever reason, I did receive a doll. Not just an ordinary doll. This one was a cowboy in complete cowboy dress, with a red bandana around his neck. He had neat, wavy hair combed back, and he was not too much shorter than I was at the age of six. In my childish mind, he was the real thing. We spent many good hours around lonely campfires, and the cattle runs that we accompanied each other on were legendary in my mind. I named this boy-doll “Old Joe.” No girl ever loved a doll more than I did this one, and no doll was ever more “used” when he finally found a resting place than Old Joe. He was a faithful friend. We never exchanged cross words with each other, and I seemed to always get the last word in!
Now what would a boy do with a doll? Just about anything he wants to do with a doll, but the main thing that Old Joe and I did was “worship.” I was the preacher, and he was the congregation of one. I fixed up a makeshift pulpit and put some rows of chairs in place, and it seems like Joe always sat on the back row, but he was not too far back for me to make myself heard.
That was my first experience in preaching. I hollered and stomped and pounded the pulpit and got in Joe’s face until we were both worn out. He heard Genesis 1:1 so many times that he could have preached the message backwards, I suppose. I never seemed to get out of Gen.1:1, but it was such a good text then (and I think it still is now). Joe never complained unless it was under his breath.
I don’t know how many decisions Joe made, but I am sure he made every decision possible. He kept a tender heart and was probably the most “responsive hearer” of my preaching ever.
It was inevitable that Joe and I would have to go our separate ways one day. I am not sure what his end was. I’m still preaching—and, until recently, pounding pulpits and hollering—and still trying to drive home some simple truths from profound texts.
So, looking back, I am thankful for that old friend that I received one childhood Christmas. Maybe my parents bought him for me because I had, not too many months before that Christmas, lost my older brother when he drowned while visiting a cousin on a nearby country farm as they were swimming in a creek. At any rate, I enjoyed Joe while he lasted. And, no doubt, he did meet a need in my life at that time.
How the world has changed. The gifts children receive and expect to receive today are mind-boggling. Many of them are electronic. Girls still do receive dolls, and our granddaughters have what is called the “American Girl.” It is a whole major line of doll merchandise, and you can go to a fancy restaurant in downtown Chicago for lunch with your doll. Ellen and Sandy and our granddaughter Ashley did that awhile back and—are you ready for this—old ladies were there with their dolls, sipping tea and chatting. Maybe I should take Joe down there sometime and preach Gen.1:1!*
Thanks for bearing with some memories that go back more than seven decades. What you have read about this unusual Christmas gift is true, including the “worship” sessions. I could not resist some tongue-in-cheek humor to spice up the story a bit. The part about the granddaughters and the American Girl is also true. That happened in the Windy City some 15 years ago. I hope you all will make some lasting memories this coming Christmas.
“Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift.” (II Cor. 9:15)
*This post adapted from a “Pastor’s Pen” column that I wrote for the “TRBC Times” in December, 2010.
YOU and GOD 