Plymouth Magazine-Winter24-DIGITAL - Flipbook - Page 13
Robin Heinemann
What is your favorite Christmas tradition or memory?
By far and away, all who know me and “the Robin method” of
premier Soup Sampling (just ask me) will already know, the annual
Plymouth Soup Supper is for me, never to be missed. As a decided
non-cook among all of Plymouth’s many galloping gourmets, the
warmth of this night nourishes both body and soul. Close beyond
this is, of course, the candlelit Silent Night on Christmas Eve — and
thanks, Plymouth, for bringing back the REAL candlelight!
What is your favorite Christmas song or hymn?
I could list anything by King’s College Chorale and many others, but I
have grown very fond of John Denver’s “A Christmas Together” album
made with none other than “The Muppets”! Don’t knock it ‘til you try
it so many songs are so wonderfully pure! From “Silent Night” sung
as a round to “I don’t know if you believe in Christmas”. Many of the
gentler songs and word-poems tucked into this album truly hit the
nail on the head. And that goes double for “Noel, 1913” with the verse
that notes that on Christmas Eve, we sometimes cannot tell “whether
it were Angels, or the Bright Stars a singing.” The gift of deeply sensing
the angels while out “wondering as I wander” has become a central
part of my most ultra special personal, individual tradition.
What’s your favorite Christmas food, dessert, or meal?
Well, I am going to say “hot cocoa”, but not because of the cocoa
(though chocolate surely is a basic food group), but because of what I
do with cocoa each Christmas Eve after the 11 p.m. service.
Due to a cascade of deaths and other family losses, I realized that I
needed to reach beyond whatever traditions remained to treasure. I
learned I felt better (more connected to The Spirit somehow) if I acted
a bit like a shepherd and kept watch.
With my thermos of hot cocoa in hand, I drive out into the Iowa
countryside before going home, passing as many area lights displays
as possible along the way. Once I parked “where Westward falls the
hill” (Denver’s Noel song), I open the windows to the fresh cold air
and I listen, look, and kept watch. More often than not, I find myself
reminded of one of my former most treasured Plymouth traditions:
David Ruhe’s Christmas Eve story. Especially the one where the
character speaks of how “Something” one Christmas “got a hold of
me” and “I’m not sure I ever want it to let go”.
In other words, I have learned that when I do make time to “just listen”,
I do hear, “angels bending near the earth” all for the “just listening”. As
David’s story went: Yep, I am not sure I ever want it to let go. (And I’m
pretty sure this could happen right in my own backyard!)
Here are just a few parts of the stunning Noel 1913 lyrics:
A frosty Christmas Eve, when the stars where shining I traveled forth
alone, where westward falls the hill. And from many, many a village,
in the darkness of the valley Distant music reached me, peals of bells
were ringing Then sped my thoughts to olden times, to that first of
Christmases when shepherds who were watching, heard music in the
fields. The singing of the angels, the comfort of our Lord Words of
old (now) come a-traveling, by the riches of (our) times And I softly
listened, as I stood upon the hill And I softly listened, as I stood upon
the hill.
Do you have any good gift suggestions?
You guessed it: Buy MUSIC!
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