A Christmas Memory of James Innes By: Nathaniel Lasley and Barbara Swanson I remember waking to the explosion of my Father’s musket and the echoing of muskets answering back from all over the county. It were a cold and rainy Christmas morning, and though there was much to be done, my two brothers and I were loath to rise from our bed and abandon the warmth of the blankets. Nan and Mother shook us from our repose, and made a great fuss with the warm water, the soap, and the brushes. Finally our wee jackets were placed about our shoulders and the cravats tied about our necks. We were fetched down stairs to our break fast and commanded by our father to gulp down our cider and porridge with great haste. Once we had done so father stood before us in the parlor and said, “I did not cross the bloody ocean so that I might raise a brood of sloths! Ye are the progeny of a good family. But ye will never amount to a hill of dirt if you dawdle so! Gentlemen do NOT dawdle! Do you understand me boys?” His cheeks ruddy with cold and his great body and fiery eyes demanded a prompt reply. “Yes your reverence!” At this, father was satisfied and withdrew to gather his sermon. Mother, my brothers and I were sent ahead and walked the quarter mile from our Glebe House to Park Church through the driving rain. Our church was no grand affair; just a small brick structure with a slate roof and a cross over the door. It was built to accommodate a congregation of about twenty; yet more than fifty had come to hear my Father preach his Christmas Sermon. There were all kinds what came. There were tradesman and factors dressed in their Sunday finest. There were fine gentlemen and their elegant ladies adorned in silks, and their Negro footman done up in livery, what fawned and fussed over them. There were also Scotch indentured sporting simple wool and coarse linen, as well as the field and trade slaves all what come in from the surrounding plantations. All managed to make their way into the church, with the gentry seated in the pews to the front and the Negros and indentured standing in the rear. No matter their station, all were in a boisterous humor, speaking gaily amongst themselves. Pa was the last to come in, and at the sight of him, a hush fell over the church. Father made his way past all of the faithful, exchanging pleasantries and greetings as he proceeded to the pulpit. After he took his perch upon the great wooden rectory, the service began. The bayberry candles lit, the hymns sung, and when some time had passed, Pa’s sermon commenced. Truth be told, I do not remember all of it. But Pa spoke of how Jesus, the Light of the World, were born just after the solstice, in the darkest time of year; when men’s hearts were made weak and weary by the cold, and this being an example of the Creator’s mercy. Then father looked to his Bible and read from the gospel of John, a passage I still remember now. “In him was life; and the light was the life of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.” Father spoke on and said, “Though the world did not comprehend the great gift she had received, Joseph and Mary were chosen to raise the Son of Man and understood the charge with which they had been tasked. Doubtless they were fearful, for they loved their son and knew what fate awaited him. But they also knew that the Creator had sent the child tither, because He bore a love for the world greater than they or any man could know; a love so great that He were willing to sacrifice His own begotten son so that mankind might be saved. Can ye comprehend such love? Can any man comprehend it? Who among ye mothers or ye fathers would put your son upon the block for the sake of the world?” Then Pa gestured to my brothers and I, beckoning us tither. Confused and nervous though we were, we obeyed, and stood next to Father, with every eye in the church affixed on us. Pa spoke again and said, “These are my sons. And so great is my affection for them, that if I were asked to sacrifice any one of these lads for the sake of mankind, I would let the world burn so that my boys might remain here beside me. God too loved His issue with a depth and grace that I could never fathom. And yet, he allowed His son to be lashed, tormented, and nailed to the cross, so that the world might be born anew. We are blessed indeed! We are blessed to have a Father whose love is as vast as the oceans, and as boundless as the cosmos!” Pa then gazed down upon us with great pride, and said simply, “That’ll do boys.” My Father died two months later. The funeral drew nearly everyone from King and Queen’s County to our small church. I remember him lying there in his coffin, with the color gone from his face and his bright eyes closed forever. And I wondered; could he have known that Christmas sermon would be his last? And was it meant for all of his congregation, or just for my brothers and I? And the question that haunts me even now is this, have I proven worthy of the love of such a man? And can any man ever be worthy of a love so boundless? Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! With Affection from Nat and Barb Thanks for all of your love and support. Cheers!
Posted on: Thu, 25 Dec 2014 02:03:59 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015