My Grandpa Art used to sing a special song at Christmas, “Plums and Prunes and Cherries.” I’m not sure if it was an original song like so many of his, but it always reminded me of the mouthwatering aromas wafting from Grandma’s kitchen. Alvilda Tollefson made everything from scratch, even her daily bread.

Like so many other farmers from the prairies of North Dakota, my mother came from solid Scandinavian stock. These Americans loved their families in a no-nonsense manner and worked the land feverishly to provide for them.

That proud heritage was passed down to me and for a period of time during my adolescence, I was all about being Norwegian. I even went to a Norwegian language camp in the summer so I could learn to speak “Norsk” with Grandpa. Funny… he never could understand what I was saying. Perhaps I should have paid more attention to the teacher and less to the boys…

My grandparents usually made the grueling 400-mile road trip down to Minneapolis to celebrate Christmas with my family. I’ll never forget how Grandpa pronounced it “Minaplis” in his cute little accent. They always arrived with a pack of Juicy Fruit gum at the ready and a crisp $5 bill.

Now, we weren’t particularly “ethnic” during the rest of the year, but at Christmas we went all out. My mother has always been an excellent cook, and she truly spoiled us at Christmas. Much of the fare was Scandinavian: including Swedish Meatballs and the homemade lefse that Grandma always contributed to the meal. Lefse is the Norwegian version of a tortilla but is made with potatoes rather than flour. Grandma’s hand-rolled lefse was by far the best on the planet. Slathered with butter and sprinkled generously with cinnamon-sugar it was nothing short of heavenly.

Now that I have kids of my own, I’ve worked diligently to create unique Christmas memories for them too. In addition to their regular gifts, each year we give them a special, personalized Christmas ornament; one that reflects their life or personality at the time. Each passing fancy is covered, from hockey to piano, and the kids treasure each of them. Now that they are teenagers, their collections are getting rather extensive, so when they decorate their own Christmas trees someday, they’ll have a nice head start.

Something magical happens every Christmas Eve at our house, I can’t quite explain it. Sometime between the candlelight service, Christmas dinner and the opening of gifts, the “Pajama Elf” visits their bedrooms and leaves a brand-new pair of Christmas pj’s. I think they look forward to that surprise more than anything.

The constant stream of holiday music on the stereo, the fragrance of traditional cookies baking in the oven, the warmth of our fieldstone fireplace and the beauty of the snowy Minnesota landscape create a homespun, festive atmosphere that we all look forward to with great anticipation. Yet what we value most is the celebration of the birth of our Messiah. From the birthday cake we bake Him to the literal place of honor He has at our dinner table, Jesus is the focal point of our Christmas.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16.