Christmas Traditions by Finding the Baby Jesus Author Kimball Fisher
I met my sweetheart in graduate school and we fell in love. Not the accidental, oops-there’s-a-hole-in-the-ground-and-we’d-better-watch-out-or-we-might-pitch-forward-into-it kind of love, but more of the hey-I’m-just-coming-off-a-broken-engagement-and-you’ve-got-a-boyfriend-back-in-Boston-but-we-have-almost-every-class-together-and-we-need-to-study-together-anyway-and-we-seem-to-have-a-lot-in-common-and-I’m-really-attracted-you kind of love. Falling into love always seemed like a misnomer to me. We have the kind of love you build. Not the kind you drop into unexpectedly. Sure, there was magic and fireworks and everything. But, we made something together. Nobody tripped and accidentally landed in a marriage.
So we took a kind of calculated approach to our first couple of Christmases after I eventually convinced my sweetheart to wed. We set out to keep building this wonderful love we started by discussing what holiday traditions we should have together.
The first few traditions came quickly. On our first Christmas morning together we marched to the Christmas tree in birth order, high stepping and swinging our arms in time to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s rousing rendition of “Oh Come All Ye Faithful,” just as my sweetheart had done as a little girl. Her father had sung in the Choir, and we wanted to honor his legacy. I would make her my main present with my own hands. And it would be the last present we opened. We’d have sliced oranges for breakfast. On our second Christmas together we had moved across the country from our families to get jobs, and we stayed in our pajamas all day reading, playing games, and working on a jigsaw puzzle because we couldn’t afford to fly home. We incorporated that into our traditions, too. There were other traditions that didn’t stick. One became a motivation for writing FINDING THE BABY JESUS. For a few years we attempted to have guests over and read Christmas stories out loud each Monday evening in December. But we had a hard time finding enough stories that that could be finished within the attention span of wiggly kids. So we abandoned that tradition. Recalling how much we had enjoyed the holiday read-alouds, I later wrote a short story about a boy who finds a long-lost carving that everyone thought had been destroyed when his grandmother died.
Well, life went on. As it always does. We had some disappointments and more successes than we deserved. For more than thirty years now we’ve been marching to the tree in our pajamas on Christmas morning. Our house is filled with furniture, pens, and stained glass windows I made for Christmas gifts. And our love is still building.
Finding the Baby Jesus
After being forced to wear lederhosen for the annual holiday card picture, twelve-year-old Chris thinks that the least his parents can do is get him the Tony Hawk skateboard he wants for Christmas. But when he recovers the hand-carved Baby Jesus that everyone thought had been destroyed in a fire the year his Grandma died, Chris realizes that some gifts are even more important than skateboards.
When the author had to discontinue a cherished tradition of reading Christmas stories out loud with his family and holiday guests each week in December, he wrote Finding the Baby Jesus. He had been unable to locate enough meaningful stories that could be read in a single sitting with wiggly children.
About the Author: Kimball Fisher writes novels for young readers. He is also a best-selling business author, professional speaker, and management consultant. Some of his past jobs include: sailboat builder, ghost writer (not as scary as it sounds), illustrator, and factory manager (more scary than it sounds). For fun he builds furniture, stained-glass windows, and writing pens.
He graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Humanities (with minors in English, Asian Studies, and Japanese), and a Master of Organizational Behavior degree from Brigham Young University. He and his amazing wife Reenie live in Portland, Oregon, where they have seen pheasants, coyotes, and a bobcat in their own backyard.
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