Last night, Christmas Eve, my wife, Rebecca, and eldest daughter, Katherine, met up in the kitchen to put together the cake you see pictured. In baking this cake, they continued a tradition we started over a quarter century ago. And it is one of those traditions that we all look forward to every year. Here’s the story:
Following a formal seated dinner at one of our parent’s on Christmas eve, we arrived home. Santa was coming. It was already late, so we hurriedly got the children snuggled in their beds after leaving Santa milk and cookies. Finally, exhaustion overtook the buzz on sugar and excitement and they slept. Santa’s helpers went to work.
Christmas morning arrived after we’d managed to sleep only 3 hours with our children screaming from upstairs: “Did Santa come?” “Can we come down yet?” So much for rest. Our day had begun. After our own little celebration, we bundled everyone up and headed to Rebecca’s parents home. There, we opened packages and enjoyed brunch. Santa managed to visit our kids down their chimney, too.
With both sets of grandparents living in the same city as us, we concluded that celebration and headed to my Mother’s home. Amazingly, Santa came down her chimney and left surprises for our kids at her house, also. Opening presents around the tree was followed by her formal Christmas dinner seated around the dining table. Abuzz with sugar, caffeine, and gifts, we crammed all the booty, our kids, and ourselves in the car and got home after dark. We were exhausted! I was so glad to finally be at my own home where I could just chill out. Somehow, I had managed to survive the day and I was utterly spent. Rest!
After unloading the car and getting the children into their pajamas, Katherine walked into our family room with a bit of a puzzled look and a serious question. It went something like this: You know, Mom and Dad, today is Jesus’ birthday. Where is His cake? Nobody had any birthday cake for Jesus today. We didn’t even sing “Happy Birthday” to Him. He’s going to have His feelings hurt. And then tears began to form in her eyes.
What do you do? Beck got up and went to the kitchen to see what she might have on hand that might suffice for a cake. It was Christmas and in those days all the stores were closed. So she had to make do with what was on hand. Amazingly, she was able to assemble everything needed to make one of her grandmother’s from-scratch cakes — devil’s food with mocha icing.
While the cake was cooling so it could be iced, I got my Bible and read the story in Luke about the birth of Jesus aloud to the family. We talked about the true meaning of Christmas. Then, Becky iced the cake and we sang happy birthday to Jesus and all blew out the candles.
Tonight, I’m going to read the story about Jesus being born from the Bible and then we’re going to sing happy birthday to Jesus and blow out the candles on His birthday cake, just like we’ve done for 25 years. We will be raising a glass of Champagne, too, toasting our High King.
Happy birthday, Jesus! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
