What sweeter music can we bring,
Than a carol, for to sing
The birth of this our heavenly King?
I love Christmas music. Our house has been filled with it since the day after Thanksgiving. Over the years, I’ve collected recordings of Christmas music and I have play lists that go on for hours and hours. Some of it is secular music, most of it is sacred music. Some of it I listen to only at certain times of the day. The Celtic Christmas albums are good morning music. The Winter Solstice and Mannheim Steamroller albums I listen to at night. I don’t know why, they just seem to fit there. The pop secular songs are the perfect accompaniment for tidying the house or when we’re baking cookies. And on Sundays (and most other days too) we listen to all the wonderful Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas albums. Some songs and carols have very special meaning to me.
Christmas 1978 was a hard Christmas for me. I was in Japan, ten months into my mission. It was the first time I’d ever been away from home for Christmas and I was very homesick. The Japanese don’t really observe Christmas – at least not in the way I was used to. Most of the Japanese are not Christian. So, although there were decorated trees in some store windows, and carols playing in the shopping streets, it was all very commercial and empty feeling to me. At that time I was serving in the beautiful city of Minoo, in the hills above Osaka with my companion Elder Pew, who was a very kind and humble missionary, and Elders Wadman and Morris. A few days before Christmas I received a box from home with cookies and a few wrapped presents in it. I shared the cookies with the other elders right away, but I arranged the wrapped gifts on my desk and waited. On Christmas morning when I opened them, I found a cassette tape of Mormon Tabernacle Choir music, a book, new socks (a blessing since my old ones were worn out and it was impossible to find socks big enough for my feet in Japan), and some long underwear (also a blessing because it was very cold and damp). After we all opened our gifts, we took the train into Kobe to attend a Mission Conference. All the missionaries in our mission were gathered at the Mission Home for a turkey dinner. It was a great treat. The turkeys had been special ordered from America because the Japanese don’t eat whole roasted turkeys. After dinner, we got to watch a movie – Mary Poppins. This was back in the days when watching a movie meant a big projector and reels of film. When the movie was over, our Mission President, President Stout, spoke to us. He told us that he had been interviewing elders during the conference and from what he’d observed, he felt we all needed to return to our areas, repent, work harder, and be more obedient to the rules. His words seemed harsh to me and, combined with my homesickness, made me feel very sad. Any Christmas spirit I’d felt quickly evaporated. I went back to my area that evening feeling very low. Christmas passed and New Years came. New Years is a big holiday in Japan and my spirits quickly recovered. I kept on trying and doing my best and the months rolled on.
A year passed and it was December of 1979. Now I was serving in Okamachi, Japan, a crowded area of Osaka next to the big airport at Itami. I was almost at the end of my mission. I was sick with bronchitis and had a racking cough. In spite of being sick, my companion and I tried to keep to the schedule and work hard. Wednesday, December 12th, was our preparation day. That morning we had the little kerosene heater on in the main room of our small apartment. It was our only source of warmth, but even with it burning, our apartment was still very cold. The four of us – Elder Tingey and Elder Shirley (the Zone Leaders), Elder Tanaka (my companion), and I were all dressed, lying in our futon beds, wrapped in blankets trying to keep warm while we wrote our weekly letters home. As we wrote, we were taking turns singing Christmas songs. When my turn came, I sang “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” There was silence when I finished. Everyone had stopped writing. Then Elder Tingey asked me to sing it again. Just as I started, the telephone rang. Elder Tingey answered it. It was President Stout, our Mission President, and he asked to speak to me. As Elder Tingey handed me the phone, my heart was pounding and my mind was racing. Telephone calls like this usually meant a special transfer. I’d had phone calls like that before. I hated being transferred. And here it was just thirteen days before Christmas and I was so sick and I had so little time left on my mission and I wanted to spend it there in Okamachi. The President chatted with me for a moment. He asked me how things were going, how my companion was doing, then he paused and asked, “Elder Howe, is Christmas an important holiday for you and your family?” I said, yes. He then said that, although I still had a month left on my mission, he needed someone to accompany an elder who was going home before Christmas and would I like to be that person. I hesitated just a second before answering, yes. I didn’t know it then, but the Zone Leaders had called the President earlier that week and told him they were concerned about my coughing fits. This was the President’s way of giving me a graceful way to go home a month early. That was Wednesday morning and on Saturday morning I was home. Because of time zones and the International Date line (Japan is 17 hours ahead of Los Angeles), I took off from Osaka at 2:00 p.m. on Saturday and landed in Los Angeles at 9:00 a.m. on Saturday, so I got to live part of that day twice, which I found amusing. I actually came home to a new home I’d never seen before because my family had moved to Los Angeles while I was in Japan. When I got home I slept for two days and it took several weeks for me to recover from my cough. Even so, that was a very happy Christmas for me and every time I hear “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” that memory comes to me again.
Now Josiah is away from home, serving his mission, ironically, in the Los Angeles area. It’s the first time he’s been away from home for Christmas, but I don’t think he’ll have the same problem with homesickness that I did. I’ve always been a homebody and not very adventurous. Josiah isn’t like that. Christmas in Southern California will be different for him because of climate differences, but it will still be a real Christmas, not a Japanese facsimile. Being among the Hispanic people, it will almost be like Christmas in a foreign country. He’ll get to participate in different customs and eat different foods. It will be interesting to hear his account of it.
Sarah, Tosh, and Miriam are here this weekend. Sarah and Tosh will return to Detroit tomorrow and won’t be coming back here for Christmas because it’s such a busy time for Sarah at her work. Miriam is staying and will be here for Christmas. Speaking of Sarah’s work – every Christmas at the MGM Grand where she works, they do a gingerbread village. Sarah, being the pastry chef, gets to build some pretty amazing gingerbread houses. Here are some of the ones she did this year.
Than a carol, for to sing
The birth of this our heavenly King?
I love Christmas music. Our house has been filled with it since the day after Thanksgiving. Over the years, I’ve collected recordings of Christmas music and I have play lists that go on for hours and hours. Some of it is secular music, most of it is sacred music. Some of it I listen to only at certain times of the day. The Celtic Christmas albums are good morning music. The Winter Solstice and Mannheim Steamroller albums I listen to at night. I don’t know why, they just seem to fit there. The pop secular songs are the perfect accompaniment for tidying the house or when we’re baking cookies. And on Sundays (and most other days too) we listen to all the wonderful Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas albums. Some songs and carols have very special meaning to me.
Christmas 1978 was a hard Christmas for me. I was in Japan, ten months into my mission. It was the first time I’d ever been away from home for Christmas and I was very homesick. The Japanese don’t really observe Christmas – at least not in the way I was used to. Most of the Japanese are not Christian. So, although there were decorated trees in some store windows, and carols playing in the shopping streets, it was all very commercial and empty feeling to me. At that time I was serving in the beautiful city of Minoo, in the hills above Osaka with my companion Elder Pew, who was a very kind and humble missionary, and Elders Wadman and Morris. A few days before Christmas I received a box from home with cookies and a few wrapped presents in it. I shared the cookies with the other elders right away, but I arranged the wrapped gifts on my desk and waited. On Christmas morning when I opened them, I found a cassette tape of Mormon Tabernacle Choir music, a book, new socks (a blessing since my old ones were worn out and it was impossible to find socks big enough for my feet in Japan), and some long underwear (also a blessing because it was very cold and damp). After we all opened our gifts, we took the train into Kobe to attend a Mission Conference. All the missionaries in our mission were gathered at the Mission Home for a turkey dinner. It was a great treat. The turkeys had been special ordered from America because the Japanese don’t eat whole roasted turkeys. After dinner, we got to watch a movie – Mary Poppins. This was back in the days when watching a movie meant a big projector and reels of film. When the movie was over, our Mission President, President Stout, spoke to us. He told us that he had been interviewing elders during the conference and from what he’d observed, he felt we all needed to return to our areas, repent, work harder, and be more obedient to the rules. His words seemed harsh to me and, combined with my homesickness, made me feel very sad. Any Christmas spirit I’d felt quickly evaporated. I went back to my area that evening feeling very low. Christmas passed and New Years came. New Years is a big holiday in Japan and my spirits quickly recovered. I kept on trying and doing my best and the months rolled on.
A year passed and it was December of 1979. Now I was serving in Okamachi, Japan, a crowded area of Osaka next to the big airport at Itami. I was almost at the end of my mission. I was sick with bronchitis and had a racking cough. In spite of being sick, my companion and I tried to keep to the schedule and work hard. Wednesday, December 12th, was our preparation day. That morning we had the little kerosene heater on in the main room of our small apartment. It was our only source of warmth, but even with it burning, our apartment was still very cold. The four of us – Elder Tingey and Elder Shirley (the Zone Leaders), Elder Tanaka (my companion), and I were all dressed, lying in our futon beds, wrapped in blankets trying to keep warm while we wrote our weekly letters home. As we wrote, we were taking turns singing Christmas songs. When my turn came, I sang “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” There was silence when I finished. Everyone had stopped writing. Then Elder Tingey asked me to sing it again. Just as I started, the telephone rang. Elder Tingey answered it. It was President Stout, our Mission President, and he asked to speak to me. As Elder Tingey handed me the phone, my heart was pounding and my mind was racing. Telephone calls like this usually meant a special transfer. I’d had phone calls like that before. I hated being transferred. And here it was just thirteen days before Christmas and I was so sick and I had so little time left on my mission and I wanted to spend it there in Okamachi. The President chatted with me for a moment. He asked me how things were going, how my companion was doing, then he paused and asked, “Elder Howe, is Christmas an important holiday for you and your family?” I said, yes. He then said that, although I still had a month left on my mission, he needed someone to accompany an elder who was going home before Christmas and would I like to be that person. I hesitated just a second before answering, yes. I didn’t know it then, but the Zone Leaders had called the President earlier that week and told him they were concerned about my coughing fits. This was the President’s way of giving me a graceful way to go home a month early. That was Wednesday morning and on Saturday morning I was home. Because of time zones and the International Date line (Japan is 17 hours ahead of Los Angeles), I took off from Osaka at 2:00 p.m. on Saturday and landed in Los Angeles at 9:00 a.m. on Saturday, so I got to live part of that day twice, which I found amusing. I actually came home to a new home I’d never seen before because my family had moved to Los Angeles while I was in Japan. When I got home I slept for two days and it took several weeks for me to recover from my cough. Even so, that was a very happy Christmas for me and every time I hear “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” that memory comes to me again.
Now Josiah is away from home, serving his mission, ironically, in the Los Angeles area. It’s the first time he’s been away from home for Christmas, but I don’t think he’ll have the same problem with homesickness that I did. I’ve always been a homebody and not very adventurous. Josiah isn’t like that. Christmas in Southern California will be different for him because of climate differences, but it will still be a real Christmas, not a Japanese facsimile. Being among the Hispanic people, it will almost be like Christmas in a foreign country. He’ll get to participate in different customs and eat different foods. It will be interesting to hear his account of it.
Sarah, Tosh, and Miriam are here this weekend. Sarah and Tosh will return to Detroit tomorrow and won’t be coming back here for Christmas because it’s such a busy time for Sarah at her work. Miriam is staying and will be here for Christmas. Speaking of Sarah’s work – every Christmas at the MGM Grand where she works, they do a gingerbread village. Sarah, being the pastry chef, gets to build some pretty amazing gingerbread houses. Here are some of the ones she did this year.
Meanwhile, down at the barn . . . My new space heater and heated waterer arrived on Thursday and I installed them right away. Then, on Friday, a neighbor up the road who also has chickens stopped to buy some eggs. I told her about my new space heater and she told me I shouldn’t heat the coop. She suggested I do some research – and she was right. Ugh. The experts tend to agree that chickens don’t need an outside source of heat. Their feathers are insulation enough. In fact, providing them with heat messes up their ability to self-regulate their body temperature. So on Friday I uninstalled the heater. But it wasn’t a complete waste. I will use it in the spring when I have new chicks. They can’t regulate their body heat until they have feathers and we do have to keep them warm. The heated waterer is fine, though. At least I got that right.
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| Saturday morning. |
The weather has been so gloomy lately. During the week we had snow and rain and snow again. The snow is wet and patchy and the mud remains. I can’t remember when we last had a bright sunny day. Right now the sun is trying to shine, but it’s a cold light filtered through hazy clouds. Tonight we have a 100% of snow and tomorrow snow mixed with rain, so it looks like the week ahead will be more of the same. I’ve decided it’s time to switch from my autumn jacket to my winter coat. It’s a big step for me and I do it reluctantly. The next step will be donning long underwear. I hope to put that off for as long as I can. One of the cheeriest sights right now amid all this gloomy weather are my Christmas cacti in full bloom. Their bright flowers make me smile.
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| My Christmas cacti. |
This evening our Sabbath Soiree will be at two houses. First the Shilligs are coming here for food then at 8:00 we are going to their house to watch the First Presidency Christmas Devotional. I love the Devotional. It’s the perfect way to begin the month. The spoken messages are inspiring. The music is the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and the Orchestra at Temple Square, and what could be better than that?
