It's The Little Things

by Anita Miles

If he’s asked me one time this year, he’s asked me 10 times, “Mom, when can we set up the gumdrop tree?” 

The gumdrop tree… It’s a family tradition... 

I don’t really remember when it started, but I can remember being a kid, traveling from Millry, Alabama up to Moraine, Ohio every Christmas. My Grandma was a very boisterous and super fun lady who met us at the door with utter delight that we had finally arrived. The minute we walked into her living room, there - on the coffee table - sat the gumdrop tree that awaited my sister and me. Our job was to get the gumdrops on it before the family began arriving the next morning, which was Christmas Day. She would have the gumdrops in a bag, sitting there waiting for our arrival.  

The gumdrop tree was one of our favorite things to do. And she knew it! The next morning, her front picture window would be covered in frost. Most of the time, her little front yard was covered in snow as the family would arrive one by one. All the uncles would snitch a gumdrop every time they passed the little tree as they would head to the kitchen. That would be where they would find my Grandma, singing Christmas carols to the top of her lungs and fixing dinner with a plastic manufactured Christmas bow stuck to the side of her hairdo.    

Once I reached adulthood and my sister married, we no longer got to make it to Ohio for Christmas. We began to make new traditions with our new and growing families. I think I grieved the absence of that little gumdrop tree as much (or more) than any of the other Christmas traditions from Grandma’s house. I don’t think I realized how much I missed it until we started having kids around and I wished there was a gumdrop tree that they could decorate.    

A few years after we had the oldest round of kids in our family, I ordered a denim dress from a place called the Vermont Country Store. I had never heard of it and didn’t think much about it. The year I ordered that dress, I began receiving a magazine in the mail every so often that would show their newest items and each season’s specialty items. Then the Christmas magazine arrived. I thumbed through it, not really interested until I turned that one page... And there it was...   

There sat a picture of the little acrylic gumdrop tree just like my Grandma had. I don’t know how long I held that magazine in my hand as I unintentionally gazed off to relive every Christmas morning of my childhood. In that moment, I could feel the cold wind coming through the doorway every time a new family member arrived. I could see the snow prints on the carpet of the living room as everyone dumped their coats and walked past the plastic lighted Santa that stood beside the fireplace to welcome everybody as they traipsed in and headed to the stairs. I could smell the ham from the oven as Grandma prepared the meal as it wafted up the stairwell... How in the world could a little thing like a gumdrop tree bring back all those memories?   

I didn’t just buy one. I bought 2. One for me and one for my sister. And the tradition began again... One wouldn’t think that a little red or green gumdrop would mean that much, but now, to my now 9 year old Levi, who’s been decorating that tree since he was practically born, it seems to be a pretty big deal. I’m not sure if it’s the tree or the fact that he gets to sneak gumdrops while he does it.  ;-) 

I guess it’s now no secret - I’m quite a traditionalist, and it appears that I’ve raised two more as well. My daughter Addison, is probably more of a traditionalist than myself. She kinda proved that last week. She and I took a trip to a little quaint town in North Georgia known as the “Hallmark city” of our state. A little town called Dahlonega. 

We spent the day touring the beautifully decorated town square and meandered through old shops decorated beautifully for the season. We stopped to enjoy a little café that was bursting at the seams and bustling with holiday cheer. She enjoyed a steamy cup of hot chocolate that she declared was the best one EVER, while I swooned over the freshly made, AMAZING tomato basil soup. We took the time to take lots of pictures, and admire the time that someone had taken to make this little historic town a place that was good for our souls.  

After our little tour, we ended the day in one of the antique shops just down the sidewalk from the town square. As we walked through, Addison would squeal with delight at little things that she thought were so “cool” or cute. I didn’t have the heart to tell her how many of those things I’d had as a child and thought nothing of getting rid of them...  psst...don’t tell her...  

You see, there’s a thread that runs through all the things that I’ve just told you about. It’s a little bit about tradition. It’s a little bit about sentimentality. But mostly, it’s about noticing. It’s about paying attention to things that really don’t initially seem very significant. It’s the little things...but in the end, they become the big things. The things by which memories are made.   

Isn’t it ironic that God chose to change the course of human salvation by a “Little One” who the world would barely notice for a while? He handpicked a common gal, who had no prestige, to bring Jesus - God, wrapped in humanity - into the world. There was no pomp or circumstance to surround Him. Just a stable, some hay, and some critters.  

But then came the day… the “Little One” grew and stood before the elite of the religious and declared, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because He hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor: He hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord.” And Luke continues and says, “He closed the book, He gave it to the minister, and sat down. And the eyes of all them that were in the synagogue were fastened on him.” Luke 4:18-20  

THAT was the day they noticed... What God had sent in a “little thing” had suddenly become a BIG THING! And instantly he became THE Hope of the ages. Let us not forget to notice either!  

I want to acknowledge that Christmas isn’t always easy for some people - for various reasons. But the Scripture that I referenced above is one of my absolute favorites. I’ll tell you why...  I’ve spent my entire adulthood surrounded by people who ache. People who are in pain. The past 21 years have been spent working at a trauma hospital. Every day that I walk these halls, I see people who are going through very hard things. I see people weep almost daily. But these Scriptures give me so much hope. For you who are broken-hearted, for you who feel bound, for those who are wounded, for those who are unwell... I want you to know that Jesus came to notice you - but more importantly - to heal you.  “And a broken reed, He will not break.” (Isaiah 42: 3) 

So... this season, take the time to do the little things. Take time to entrust your heart to Jesus and remember how and why He came. Make the memories. Enjoy your family. Hug them. Forgive the things that divide us. Notice.   

And from the Miles’ house to yours... Merry Christmas!!