The Christmas Eve Walk...1960
Posted: Sat Dec 24, 2022 7:52 pm
The Christmas Eve Walk...1960
An updated Lakewood Observer column
Dear Friends in Lakewood Land:
I'm not sure if there was any more peaceful time known to humankind than the quiet walk that Mom and I took each year to our church on Christmas Eve. We walked down our street to the church to join Dad, who was already there directing the youth choir practice.
As walks go, it wasn't a very long one; just down Rosewood Avenue, and then across Detroit Avenue, and finally, over to the Lakewood Methodist Church. Those walks generally only took about fifteen or twenty minutes. More often than not, there was simply the quiet crunching of my black rubber gumboots on the crystalline snowflakes that showered like shimmering diamonds in the glow of those ancient frost-covered streetlamps; their ghostly luminaries interspersed by the foggy shadows cast from those huge tree-lawn elms, arching ever Heavenward.
The elms' high V-like giant branches formed a natural cathedral of wonderment. Rosewood’s well-worn red bricks took on a surreal, holy, other-worldly quality, as childhood imaginations took flight on that Sacred Night of Nights.
Sometimes too, we would be joined on our pilgrimage by neighbors. Sometimes, we would all sing carols together. At the intersection of Detroit, some of those neighbors would turn left for destinations like St. James Catholic, or Trinity Lutheran. Others stayed with us, and made the trip across the street to Lakewood Methodist. Still others were walking in the other direction, on their way up to Grace Presbyterian. Sometimes, we walked in the footprints of others. Sometimes, especially with us kids, we made new pathways of our own, and not always on the sidewalks, of course. The mounds of freshly shoveled snow that had been piled at the ends of the driveways became our own little mountain range to conquer. All too often, by the time we arrived at the church, we had wet trouser legs, well above the height of our 8 inch gumboots, and we could have cared less.
Sometimes, we lost our balance, and we ended up fidgeting through our beautiful, but always extra-long midnight church services, with very soggy, itchy, wet, cold woolen behinds.
Such was Lakewood life, on that timeless Holy Night.
We kids did not always understand the "Glorias" and "Hallelujahs" back then either. We retained very little of those serious sermons and Scripture readings, but there were those bits and pieces...
Bits and pieces? Oh yeah....
I remember very few toys that I ever received for Christmas, but I do remember those bits and pieces...something about a Savior being born in the City of David...Something else about peace on earth, and goodwill, and all those remembrances STILL cause me to wonder, during these fleeting moments of nostalgia...
Is our world...is Lakewood, for example, still that loving place where people of faith can joyfully walk down a street on Christmas Eve,? Do people even WALK down a street on Christmas Eve anymore, particularly on that timeless journey to the church of their choice, and particularly, during these difficult times? Would they even recognize their childhood church, if they decided to return to it? For that matter, is their church even functioning anymore? For many people in Lakewood, that answer would unfortunately be "no"...and for those few who still make that Christmas walk, do they continue to speak with others on their way, or do they simply and hurriedly shuffle along, lost in their own private thoughts? Has "church" simply become an automatic tradition, or some guilt-inspired historic obligation, or perhaps, only a dimming memory?
The last time the neighbors and I tried old-fashioned street caroling a few years ago, almost no one came to their doors to listen...Talk about the sound of your tree falling in the forest. When I visited Rosewood recently, even the elms are long gone, as are most of the ash trees that replaced them. Dutch Elm disease and emerald ash borers insured that future arboreal tree-lawn canopies above our Lakewood streets will be long in coming, if ever again. Even Rosewood’s scenic ancient red brick street has now been covered by several inches of coal-black asphalt.
...and yet....still...What is so different, really, between now... and my halcyon memories of Lakewood's Christmas Eve, from sixty two years ago? Kids still play in those snow drifts, even if not always on the way to church. This Sacred Night is no less so, and the message this night brings continues to be a timeless offer of hope and renewal. Now, as then, our youngsters continue to understand that we need to treat EVERYONE with peace and love. That’s the ideal, as least.
That message was once very much in our hearts, as we walked within the natural elm-enclosed quiet cathedral that was Rosewood Avenue. These days at least, it warms my heart to see children making new and enjoyable memories of their own at the newly refurbished and updated park, at the end of Rosewood, and of course, a number of those beautiful churches still exist, and two of them (Lakewood United Methodist and Grace Presbyterian) still bookend that timeless Rosewood walkway.
In spite of my sentimental nostalgia for the past, all has not been lost, and never will be, my friends.
You just have to believe...but I digress here.
Merry Christmas to All!
Back to the banjo!
An updated Lakewood Observer column
Dear Friends in Lakewood Land:
I'm not sure if there was any more peaceful time known to humankind than the quiet walk that Mom and I took each year to our church on Christmas Eve. We walked down our street to the church to join Dad, who was already there directing the youth choir practice.
As walks go, it wasn't a very long one; just down Rosewood Avenue, and then across Detroit Avenue, and finally, over to the Lakewood Methodist Church. Those walks generally only took about fifteen or twenty minutes. More often than not, there was simply the quiet crunching of my black rubber gumboots on the crystalline snowflakes that showered like shimmering diamonds in the glow of those ancient frost-covered streetlamps; their ghostly luminaries interspersed by the foggy shadows cast from those huge tree-lawn elms, arching ever Heavenward.
The elms' high V-like giant branches formed a natural cathedral of wonderment. Rosewood’s well-worn red bricks took on a surreal, holy, other-worldly quality, as childhood imaginations took flight on that Sacred Night of Nights.
Sometimes too, we would be joined on our pilgrimage by neighbors. Sometimes, we would all sing carols together. At the intersection of Detroit, some of those neighbors would turn left for destinations like St. James Catholic, or Trinity Lutheran. Others stayed with us, and made the trip across the street to Lakewood Methodist. Still others were walking in the other direction, on their way up to Grace Presbyterian. Sometimes, we walked in the footprints of others. Sometimes, especially with us kids, we made new pathways of our own, and not always on the sidewalks, of course. The mounds of freshly shoveled snow that had been piled at the ends of the driveways became our own little mountain range to conquer. All too often, by the time we arrived at the church, we had wet trouser legs, well above the height of our 8 inch gumboots, and we could have cared less.
Sometimes, we lost our balance, and we ended up fidgeting through our beautiful, but always extra-long midnight church services, with very soggy, itchy, wet, cold woolen behinds.
Such was Lakewood life, on that timeless Holy Night.
We kids did not always understand the "Glorias" and "Hallelujahs" back then either. We retained very little of those serious sermons and Scripture readings, but there were those bits and pieces...
Bits and pieces? Oh yeah....
I remember very few toys that I ever received for Christmas, but I do remember those bits and pieces...something about a Savior being born in the City of David...Something else about peace on earth, and goodwill, and all those remembrances STILL cause me to wonder, during these fleeting moments of nostalgia...
Is our world...is Lakewood, for example, still that loving place where people of faith can joyfully walk down a street on Christmas Eve,? Do people even WALK down a street on Christmas Eve anymore, particularly on that timeless journey to the church of their choice, and particularly, during these difficult times? Would they even recognize their childhood church, if they decided to return to it? For that matter, is their church even functioning anymore? For many people in Lakewood, that answer would unfortunately be "no"...and for those few who still make that Christmas walk, do they continue to speak with others on their way, or do they simply and hurriedly shuffle along, lost in their own private thoughts? Has "church" simply become an automatic tradition, or some guilt-inspired historic obligation, or perhaps, only a dimming memory?
The last time the neighbors and I tried old-fashioned street caroling a few years ago, almost no one came to their doors to listen...Talk about the sound of your tree falling in the forest. When I visited Rosewood recently, even the elms are long gone, as are most of the ash trees that replaced them. Dutch Elm disease and emerald ash borers insured that future arboreal tree-lawn canopies above our Lakewood streets will be long in coming, if ever again. Even Rosewood’s scenic ancient red brick street has now been covered by several inches of coal-black asphalt.
...and yet....still...What is so different, really, between now... and my halcyon memories of Lakewood's Christmas Eve, from sixty two years ago? Kids still play in those snow drifts, even if not always on the way to church. This Sacred Night is no less so, and the message this night brings continues to be a timeless offer of hope and renewal. Now, as then, our youngsters continue to understand that we need to treat EVERYONE with peace and love. That’s the ideal, as least.
That message was once very much in our hearts, as we walked within the natural elm-enclosed quiet cathedral that was Rosewood Avenue. These days at least, it warms my heart to see children making new and enjoyable memories of their own at the newly refurbished and updated park, at the end of Rosewood, and of course, a number of those beautiful churches still exist, and two of them (Lakewood United Methodist and Grace Presbyterian) still bookend that timeless Rosewood walkway.
In spite of my sentimental nostalgia for the past, all has not been lost, and never will be, my friends.
You just have to believe...but I digress here.
Merry Christmas to All!
Back to the banjo!