Marion Bond West relives a time when she experienced her mother’s Christmas smile and Almighty God’s powerful love.

It is the gift of God. —Ecclesiastes3:13 (kjv)

A moment with mother

I miss my mother ...especially at Christmas. She’s been dead for thir­teen years. Sometimes I relive the things we did together. Mother served delectable ambrosia. I haven’t had any since she made it. Not a lot of people make it today. It’s simple, but time-consuming. Grated coconut mixed with sections of oranges cut up, orange juice, and perhaps cherries. Mother traditionally served it in small flowered china dishes from the china cabinet. She loved to watch me take the first bite, even as an adult.

My neighbor, Bea, always bakes something for us at Christmas. She’s a gourmet cook and a gracious lady.

This year, her husband, Wayne, came over with a large, white wicker basket filled with goodies. Beautiful handmade kitchen items, homemade Brunswick stew, candies, a miniature fruitcake, jams, and then, tah-dah— a nice-size Mason jar of ambrosia. The jar wore a jaunty Christmas hat. I gasped out loud. “Oh!” My joyful heart raced. I suddenly remembered my mother’s Christmas apron, red pleated, tying in the back.

Carrying the precious jar of ambrosia, I went to that same china cabinet my mother first used as a bride in 1931. Carefully, I removed the exact same china bowl in which she’d served me ambrosia for all those years. With my dish filled to the brim, I sat close to the Christmas tree in a rocker from my mother’s living room. Dusk was falling and the lights glowed softly. At last, I took that first wondrous bite and experienced Mother’s Christmas smile and God’s powerful love.

Digging Deeper: 2 Cor 9:15; Jas 1:17