SHADOW OF A MEMORY By Bob Perks

"How do I make them remember?" he asked me.

"You can't," I replied.

"But I want them to remember these times," he said.

I placed my hand on his shoulder and said, "Then make these times worth remembering. "

I was trying to understand what it was about Christmas that makes my family love it so.

The music? The cookies? The presents? The people? The giving? The getting? The twinkling lights? The laughter or the "Silent Night?"

Yes, and so much more.

But what was at the center of it all for me? It would be the right thing to say, I suppose, the proper and most wonderful answer to give, by saying the expected and most obvious reply...the birth of Christ.

Dare I say anything else?

I will.

I suddenly discovered that the center of it all, the beginning and the focus for this family is the tree.

The celebration begins and ends there.

Wait. Do not bow your head and pray for this sinner yet.

I do not suggest that it ranks higher in importance than Jesus Himself.

Still, nothing happens in our home until the pagan ritual of selecting, decorating, and caring for the Christmas tree is complete.

I have shared my story with you about the talking Christmas tree, the journey to find the perfect one and the final words of thanks I offer it on the last night.

My son Keith has had his very own tree for a number of years and my youngest son, Evan, was presented with his own bow saw this year. He and Crystal ventured out in search of their tree. It was a big event worth noting. A crossing over, a standing on his own, a passing of the torch giving me the satisfaction of knowing the tradition will go on.

It was a moment all alone, a silence, not in the night, but in the brightness of a sunny afternoon, that embraced my heart bringing peace to my very soul and joy into my life once again.

I was lost somewhere wandering around the forest of pine, listening for the whisper.

Glancing across the field I noticed for the very first time that both the smallest and the largest trees cast big shadows.

Suddenly, I heard my family calling me.

"I'll be right there," I shouted. I turned to capture one last image of the beauty of this sunlit still shot.

"One day, I will not be here with them," I thought. "They will walk among these trees and pausing here, perhaps in this very spot, they will think of me and smile.

I hope they see the shadows beyond the trees. That is where I'll be...in the shadow of a memory."

How powerful. To see not only the beauty in what stands before you, but in the eternal forever-ness of the memories left behind them.

This new revelation helped me to better understand what my friend meant when he asked, "How do I make them remember?"

I was struggling with that very same thought when I came across the perfect answer.

It was a suggested gift in a collection of ideas I found on the internet. I clicked on the link and there it was...the image of a candle lit pine tree casting a shadow against the wall.

"That's it!" I said. I could clearly see the purpose, the gift, the power of the light, the beauty of the tree and the memory of it, flickering off in the distance.

Much like our lives. We are given a purpose, a gift to fulfill it, the power of faith to light our way, the beauty of our own image becomes a reflection of our Creator and the memory of all we were, cast forever like a shadow behind us.

Look for me there my sons. When the day comes when I am no longer walking by your side through the forest of Christmases past and future. I will be there... "In the shadow of a memory."

"I believe in You!"