I overheard someone say that the most memorable thing about Christmas this year was some good pizza they had eaten. “Pizza,” I questioned? “Pretty much,” was the response.

I considered what the most memorable thing about my Christmas experience had been. I thought about our visit to my son’s house in Mississippi, where his wife and her mother prepared a traditional German Christmas Eve dinner for us. I thought about their beautifully decorated tree, heavy laden with gifts for everyone. I thought about their resort-like neighborhood and our relaxing walk on the golf course behind their spacious home.

Then I remembered what happened while we were in the kitchen cleaning up after Christmas dinner. My daughter-in-law asked her mom to pack up some leftover food to take over to the neighbor’s house. The conversation that followed was explaining that the next-door neighbor was out of town. They usually kept an eye out for their elderly neighbors across the street. Although she had never met them, she had promised to take over that watch while they were out of town. However, she was uncertain what to say when she arrived at their door, carrying food, so she asked if we would go over with her.

Grabbing my coat, I joined the entourage, as we carried over lasagna, bread, cake, and cookies.   We approached the house, looked in the backyard where a lawn mover had been left out, and decided to knock on the front door.

After a few seconds of considering what we would say, a tall, older man who was obviously sweating about his neck and face opened the door. He explained that he had just taken a short break from mowing the lawn. He invited us in after he heard that we were bearing food for a Christmas meal.

We filed into the front sitting room, where his wife was seated in a recliner, wearing oxygen tubes in her nose, and surrounded by reading materials. She gladly received the meal we were carrying, as she said that they didn’t have any food prepared for the day. Not that they were impoverished by the looks of things; the nice new television was playing, there were current books on the coffee table, a pretty heart necklace hung around her neck. It was more about the logistics of preparing a meal. “Driving to the store with the oxygen was a challenge as they had just gotten the portable tank, and it only kept a charge for a short time,” she explained.

After the initial introductions, my son, his wife, and her mother engaged the man in conversation about military service as he was wearing a Korean War t-shirt that he had just received as a Christmas present. I kneeled down in from of the lady, who seemed self-conscious about the oxygen tubes, and tried to put her at ease. She explained that she had fallen five months ago, broken her hip and spent months in rehab only to return home and fall again by tripping on her oxygen tubes and went back to rehab with a fractured neck. She had lost 100 pounds through it all and was limited in her movements by the length of tubing. She told me it was rough on her husband as he was terrified of using the microwave. He had his roles and she had hers. They were both concerned as to who would die first, leaving the other with all the roles to perform. I asked about their children.

She went on to tell me about them and who was the executor of their estate. She regretted not having a plan in place sooner, but they were now trying to downsize their belongings in anticipation of making a move to assisted living, closer to their son who was making the arrangements.

I told her I was the one who did that for my mom and what a privilege it was for me to be able to provide for her care. I encouraged her to enjoy her son’s help as it was an act of love.   She agreed that it was indeed an act of love. I told her that the “best was yet to come.” She gasped and said, “That saying is written on a sundial in our garden and we often say that.” I smiled and patted her hand, praying God’s blessing on their future plans. I could have stayed with her for a long time. However, we decided we had stayed long enough, but guaranteed any further assistance was just across the street. With smiles and hugs, we parted, feeling the spirit of Christmas embody our new friendship. It was the highlight of the day. As we walked away, we talked about how nice that encounter had been and considered when the next visit might be. I was proud of my daughter-in-law and pleased that she had given us all such a nice gift – a wonderful Christmas memory.