As Jansson Jackson wrote about last week, many of us have cherished memories of our grandparents and Christmas, and I certainly do. My maternal grandparents and their parents raised cattle in Llano County. Every year, on the weekend before Christmas, our entire family gathered at my grandparents’ house. When I was born in 1964, I added to the joyful experiences of those Christmas seasons with my aunts, uncles, and cousins in their small, uninsulated house that featured a fireplace (which made those cold mornings bearable). Those memories are among my happiest. Each year was consistent; everyone got along—which, now that I think about it, is quite unusual for a large family—and we truly enjoyed each other’s company.

After my grandmother passed away in 1988, her house was rented out, and our Christmas celebrations rotated between my mom and her siblings. That changed when my cousin moved into the house and made it his home. The first Christmas back there was in 2006, and since my mom was battling cancer, it became her last Christmas in that house. These memories remind me to be grateful for what the Lord has provided, to work on improving our relationships, and to value what truly matters.

During that first Christmas back in my grandparents’ house in 2006, one of my aunts read a heartfelt letter she had written to my cousin, thanking him for restoring the house and allowing us to gather there again. I still remember her concluding words: “My mother always said she would rather her house be torn down than remain in disrepair, so thank you for keeping this part of her memory alive.” We continue to raise cattle in Llano County, and my cousin still lives in that house.

I am deeply grateful. What memory would you like to keep alive today?