The tree’s a fake, but not the hugs
Tim Wildmon
Tim Wildmon
AFA president

November-December 1996 –  Well, you made it. Come on in. Forget that handshake business, give me a hug. Welcome to a Wildmon Christmas in northeast Mississippi! Here, let me have your coat. Say, were the directions all right? Good. Good. We’ve been wanting to have you over for Christmas Eve for several years now. I’m glad we were able to work it out this year.

Alison, our guest is here! The house? Well, thank you. There’s nothing like a man’s touch around a home, is what I say. Yes, I guess it was – let’s see, well, now I can’t even remember the last time I vacuumed and dusted. I did set that couch down against the wall when we first moved in, though. And I do iron nightly, so I’m not exactly Freddie Freeloader around here.

Question. The tree. Is is live or is it Memorex? Live, you say. Sorry, your answer is incorrect. After seven years of vowing never to have a fake tree, I broke down and bought one two years ago. It was a good move. I hated those tree needles getting all over the den. Now, I just box that baby up and put it in the attic.

Al, I want you to meet our guest.

“Hi, nice to meet you and have you in our home.

“Thanks. Did I hear you taking some credit for the decorations, honey?”

No, no I was just taking credit for the arrangement of the couch. Our guest observed that the way the couch was positioned against the wall absolutely made the den. I just said I placed it there when we first moved in.

Oh, we’ve been here a couple of years now. We love it. Walk out the front door, you’ve got a nice neighborhood. Walk out the back door, you think you’re in Montana, except there are no mountains, of course. Although, we do have Birmingham Ridge, which peaks out at about 200 feet.

Hey kids, come say hello.

“Hi!”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

This is Wriley, she’s nine now. She’s the clean, neat, tidy one. We almost lost her when she was born. She had to be flown to Jackson and stayed in the hospital for a week. Everybody around here prayed. God healed her little body, though.

This is Wesley. Can you say hello, Wes?

“Hey.”

Wesley is seven. He has a room here and one at the emergency room at the hospital. He’s on a first name basis with the staff there. See these four missing front teeth. We had an ice storm last February, he went down hill on a sled and met the back end of a four-wheeler face first. I didn’t think the doctors could put his lip back together, but they did. We’re also thankful those weren’t his permanent teeth. That ER visit was a little more traumatic than the one when he got a crayon lodged up his nose, age two. Or the time he pulled our friend’s glass fishbowl off the counter and sliced his leg open, or the time – just two months ago – when it took 60 stitches (inside and out) to repair the leg (the other one) he cut open on the playground at school. Have I missed any, Al?

Everybody ready to go?

“Dad, you forgot Walker.”

Oh, yeah. This is Walker and he’s three. Walker – he’s just now coming into his own, if you know what I mean. He wants to do everything the other kids do except sleep in his own bed. He’s Mister Brave until it comes bed time. Every morning about four, you can hear the patter of his little footsteps on the carpet. Climbs up by himself, though. Got to give him that.

Anyway, I know you just got here, but we’re supposed to meet Mamma and them – that’s southern for family – at their church for a candlelight Communion service. It’s a small church, about 50 people. Then we’re going over to their house for mom’s traditional Christmas Eve lasagna. The best lasagna this side of Rome, I’m tellin’ you. It’s hard for me to concentrate in church just thinking about it.

“Tim, let me get Walker a jacket and why don’t ya’ll go on to the van.”

O.K. Let’s go, little angels. My kids are near perfect. Was that your experience?

After the Communion service, like I said, we’ll go eat at Mom’s, then everyone will gather in the living room, dad will read the Christmas story from the Bible – both accounts – and then we’ll pray and exchange gifts. Now, it will be crowded, so I hope you don’t mind being stepped on. My sister Donna and brother-in-law Neal have two little boys, and with our family, my other sister Angie, my brother Mark, Mom and Dad and my grandmother – well, you get the picture.

And we have been known to get a little mushy. So I hope you don’t mind hugging and sharing about what the Lord’s done for you. And I’ve lost three grandparents the last three years, so I’m sure their names will come up often. Anyway, after that, mom’s hot spice tea will be ready. Man, that smells great! We’ll get us some tea and watch the kids play with their toys. Dad will have a fire going, I’m sure.

Al usually helps wash dishes and clean up. But if you’ll hang with me, pretend to be spending quality time with the kids, you can avoid that work detail.

Tomorrow morning, after Santa comes, we’ll go out to Alison’s parents and spend some time with the Hardins. Jim and Brenda always have something good to eat and a great fireplace. It’s out of town a little in the pine trees, so if you like peace an quiet – with the exception of the kids running around, obviously – you’ll get it. Alison’s sister Leslie and her husband Wes just had a new baby and you can meet them. Man, I’m so glad you drove all this way to be with us. I’ve always wanted to have you over.

Now, what is taking Al so long? I know what happened, Gina or Linda called. We may as well go back inside. They can talk, my Christmas friend. They can talk.  undefined