The house is now quiet. Christmas dinner has been enjoyed. Presents have been unwrapped and the screams and laughter of the grandchildren have faded away. The Christmas celebration comes to an end. Each grandchild, - parent's in-hand, - embraces grandma and grandpa while bidding us a goodnight. Grandparents can attest that a grandchild's hug makes all of the holiday effort worthwhile.

The last goodnights having been said, emptiness gently falls on the Rowlands' house. Even the allure of the Christmas tree which once bedazzled the grandchildren with all its sparking lights and beautiful decorations and its horde of presents; now stands mute. Its Christmas enchantment now lost; it signals another Christmas has come and gone. My wonderful wife, exhausted, and rightly so, tromps slowly off to bed to sleep the sleep of a mother, a wife, and a grandmother. Sleep tight my love, you deserve it after all your tree trimming, shopping, wrapping, cooking, and cleaning up. She has once again made our family Christmas ever so magical for each one of us.

I take a quiet moment to sit by the Christmas tree, ablaze with dazzling lights and ornaments reflecting our family history. I glance fondly from ornament to ornament. Each triggers memories of Christmas's long-passed. There are decorations that Marsha and I enjoyed when we were growing up those many childhood years ago. My mother's hand-made decorations still bring delight to my heart each time I place them on the tree. Scattered throughout the branches, are ornaments that commemorate first Christmas's of our two children and now our five grandchildren. Our Christmas tree has become a fountain of memories that reminds me of all that is good about the most wonderful holiday of all.

It is now my turn to head off to bed; but the excitement of the evening has left me unable to sleep. I slowly and quietly make my way to my den and before I can turn on the computer, my eyes glance up to see an old holiday picture of my father, mother and my two brothers gathered around the family Christmas tree. Smiling, my mind drifts back to the wonderful Christmas's we all shared together. I remembered my aunts and uncles, the mountains of toys, the laughter; the food and of course the infamous poker games that always brought such merriment to this most wonderful day of the year.

Looking deeper into the photograph, my mother's "Mona Lisa" smile reminds me of what turned out to be the Greatest Christmas Gift that I would ever receive. It was Christmas Eve 1965, and I felt no present or holiday cheer could brighten my spirit that year. The Grinch must have been working overtime because after he left "Whoville," he visited my house.

My future did not look very promising at this point in my life. I had just broken up with my girlfriend, and a few days later I received a letter placing me on academic suspension from Wright State University. Weighing heavily on my now over-burdened shoulders; was the shame of failing once again. This all seemed like a self-fulfilling prophecy that had foreshadowed me throughout all my school days. I kept the grim news to myself, knowing my friends and family would find out soon enough.

As the family gathered to celebrate Christmas that year, my mother must have sensed the sadness in her always happy-go-lucky son. When there was a lull in the festivities, mom took me aside and asked "if there was anything bothering me."

I sheepishly smiled and said nothing was wrong. She knew better than to let my answer slide, so she asked once again. This time I confessed what had been troubling me. My mother gently took my hands and said, "Jimmy you're a good kid, with a kind heart." She reassured me that she and Dad were very proud of me no matter what and said things would work out for the best. Trying to boost my confidence, Mom's loving voice then added, that I could accomplish whatever I set my mind to do, if only I would believe in myself and never give up.

What else is a Mother to say...?

I thanked her for caring and with my burden now revealed, I began feeling a bit better. For the briefest time, I forgot about my worries and joined the family in celebrating Christmas (I even won a few bucks playing poker.)

A few days after our holiday get-together, I decided to go out to Wright State and get a re-admittance form. To this day I am not sure what really motivated me to re-apply. However, as I reflect back on that Christmas Eve of 1965 I now think it was a combination of my mother's little pep talk; and me not wanting to disappoint my parents who believed in me.

With my brother, Bob's help, I filled out the form and added the required essay explaining why I should be given a second chance to attend Wright State. My brother even suggested a few other attributes to include in my essay; things I had failed to see in myself.

Each Christmas I say a prayer thanking my mother for her special gift. Unlike most presents it was not wrapped and placed under the tree but came from my mother's heart. Her gift of motherly wisdom would prove to be the Greatest Christmas Present I would ever receive, outshining all others. Her trust echoed an unending faith in me and filled me with the confidence to achieve whatever I set my mind to accomplish.

This Christmas tale does not end the way you might think. I was denied re-admittance for the winter trimester; but permitted to attend the summer session. If I did well during the summer session; I would be re-admitted for the fall trimester. True to my mother's prediction things did work out for the best. In April of 1968 I married the most wonderful girl and in December of that year, graduated from Wright State. I went on to teach American History for 41 years and even served as assistant principal for two years. By the way, no one ever made fun of me. I wonder why?

There is a sequel to my story. As my daughter was growing up, I saw in her the same struggles I had endured while attending school, including being teased. Lucky for her, my mother's magical words would save another lost and frighten soul from a life of self doubt.

One summer day my family went to visit "Granny" (as the family now called my Mom.) She was living right across from the Dayton Airport. We brought lawn chairs to watch the Dayton Air Show from her front yard. Granny asked my daughter to help her make lunch. When the air show ended, we all hugged Granny and thanked her for everything. The following day, my daughter told me what she and Granny spoke about while making lunch. My dear mother had given my daughter the same advice she had given me that Christmas Eve of 1965. Happily, things worked out in the end for my daughter. She graduated from college with more awards than her brother and husband, which is a fact that to this day, she likes to remind both of them of! She became a teacher and now is a stay-at-home mother raising two wonderful children.

The moral of this story? A few kind and loving words can make a significant difference in a person's life. To my family: my wife Marsha, my two grown children, Jason and Britt, their spouses and my five wonderful grandchildren, please take note; a sympathetic word or loving gesture, can leave a lasting impression; far out-weighing your immediate intentions.

Thanks Mom for believing in me.
You were the greatest.