Ebenezer Scrooge is not alone in harkening back to Christmases past.

Many of us reflect on prior holidays.

We enjoy both sharing and hearing about the happy holidays people had.

So a number of Redditors asked:

“What is your best Christmas memory?”

To Grandmother’s House We Go…

“Every Christmas Eve, at Grandma’s house, we’d all have a giant nerf war. We all had our teams of cousins we’d pair up with, and it was awesome!” ~ polysnip

Disbelief

“Not really my ‘best’ but it’s one of my favourites. It was when my dad told me Santa wasn’t real when I was maybe 7 or 8.”

“He was on the road working so it was over the phone, and I immediately hung up and started crying. Then, I called his dad and told him the ‘lie’ my dad just told me.”

“He just laughed… I was so convinced that Santa was real I seriously thought my dad was lying.” ~ jimothy-pickens

A Memory Made Of Memories

“A few years ago, on Christmas Eve we found a box of our baby videos, and we all sat down and watched them for hours.” ~ reammachine

Special Surprise

“Shocking my 16-year-old son with his first car.” ~ Scrappy_Larue

To Be A Kid Again

“The Christmas my parents decided to say we were old enough to not have Santa visit anymore. My brothers and I (6 of us in total) ranged in age from 15 to 26 and we threatened to boycott Christmas if Santa wasn’t part of it.”

“So my parents went out and bought a load of cheap toys for Santa to deliver—water pistols, foam dart guns, swords, shields, dress-up items like Viking hats and crowns and feather boas that could be worn by adults.”

“We spent the day playing like little kids again and it was so much fun. ~ KittikatB

A Very Special Delivery

“I’ll do two. One is the best memory I have that occurred on Christmas, the second is a good (can’t really choose a best) Christmas memory.”

“The first is being surprised three weeks early with the birth of my first child, on Christmas Day. Her birth itself is the absolute best part of the memory, holding her and seeing her for the first time, best present ever. Afterward I failed to even think of checking the nearby Chinese restaurant to see if they were open.”

“My Christmas dinner that year was a bowl of Cheerios sitting in front of the Alastair Sim Christmas Carol before heading back to the hospital for the next two days.”

“A good memory from my childhood (I was probably in Jr. High, if not high school) was the year I decided to stay up all night.”

“After our Christmas Eve festivities, when everyone else went to bed, I set up shop right by the tree, turned on the radio to the all Christmas music channel, grabbed a big mug of cocoa (with mini candy cane dropped in), and spent the night gazing at the tree, reading A Christmas Carol and A Child’s Christmas in Wales, and eventually ending up lying under the tree, where I probably ended up dozing for a bit, but would wake up, see it was still dark, hear the music, and be so happy the night could keep going like that.”

“In the morning, I stoked the fire, grabbed more cocoa, and made our traditional morning pillsbury orange rolls and waited for everyone else to get up. So much fun because it really stretched out my favorite part of Christmas (Eve) and let me enjoy everything with no distractions.” ~ RealPwaully

A Precious Gift

“I’ll do two.”

“Childhood: I was 10, it was Christmas Eve 1996, my dad was dying (it was his last Christmas). He hadn’t lost his voice yet, the cancer hadn’t spread to his throat at this point. We usually did a big Christmas Eve thing with all my mom’s family but this year they left fairly early and we had time as a little family unit to exchange our gifts for each other.”

“I don’t really remember what anyone else got but I do remember that my dad handed me this little box and told me to open it. It was a beautiful white gold charm bracelet with one charm on it, it said my name on one side and the other said Love, Dad Xmas ‘96.”

“He told me he wanted me to fill it with charms from all my travels and adventures. It’s the greatest gift I could ever get. I look at it now and know that my dad loved me. I miss him everyday.”

“Adulthood: I was 30, Christmas 2016. I had started hosting my mom’s side of the family on Christmas Eve a few year before but this was definitely the best. I rearranged my furniture to make sure everyone could fit in our little townhouse. My house was full of delicious smells from cooking all of our family staples for Christmas Eve dinner and the smell of the tree.”

“Everyone showed up on time, there was zero family drama, everyone had an awesome time and left by 10. Christmas Day we went to my husband’s parents’ house and celebrated with his family and his grandparents.”

“It’s also his mom’s birthday that day, she used to make us spend all of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with her which left no time for my family. This was the first year she didn’t have a hissy fit that we weren’t with them Christmas Eve even though we had been doing it that way for a few years already.”

“It was a good memory.” ~ mirandawg

A Mother’s Love

“My fondest memory as a child is when we had Christmas away from home because my mom’s dad was dying. It was maybe a week or so before Christmas and suddenly my mom said we had to go to Arizona because her dad wasn’t doing well.”

“I didn’t see my grandpa often and he didn’t speak English, but he was always kind to me. As a kid, I was bummed that we were not going to be home for Christmas.”

“He passed and mom was very sad. It was hard for me to process the feelings as a child.”

“I remember Christmas Eve was lackluster since it was at my dad’s mom’s house (she was distant and cold to us grandkids.) I was bummed because I thought Santa wasn’t going to find us.”

“Come Christmas morning there were a bunch of presents under the tree. I got a pet robot dog, which had me so happy because my parent’s never let me have a dog despite always asking.”

“Now that I’m older, I appreciate what my mom did. She was going through a very hard time in her life. She lost her mom when she was 3, so losing her dad was a tremendous loss for her.”

“Despite all this, she made sure that we had a good Christmas with presents. I remember being in disbelief that Santa found us, and she told me that she let Santa know where we would be so he can bring our presents.” ~ FoxPaws26

Magical Morning

“When I was in kindergarten, my parents used to decorate the entire house for Christmas overnight while I was sleeping unawares. I remember going to sleep as usual, with the home as usual, and then waking up into what only could be described in my little mind then as magic.”

“I remember running back and forth to the pretty candles and runner on the side table, to admiring the garlands along the staircase rails—giddy with excitement.” ~ Reddit

The Joy Of Giving

“When I was in high school the history teachers all did a toy and food drive for Christmas. They had a friendly competition of whose class would donate the most.”

“I told my Mom about it and for some reason she decided to go all out. We went to the Walmart toy department and filled up a whole cart. Then we went to the grocery store and did the same.”

“When I came to school the next day I felt like Santa Claus himself with my sacks full of toys and food. I got there early so my classmates wouldn’t see but my teacher happened to be there early too. The look on his face was priceless.”

“Needless to say we won!” ~ Badw0IfGirl

The Best Meal He Ever Ate

“Christmas was on a Sunday. My brother is a pastor, and for our families, Sunday meant church. We decided to have our Christmas celebration (presents, the big dinner, etc) on Monday.”

“For Sunday dinner, I was making a huge lasagna (Monday’s feast would be the traditional turkey with all the fixings). We were staying in the area for a short time before relocating for my husband’s military assignment, so we didn’t know many people.”

“My brother called me and told me that a sick elderly woman named Jean (who used to attend the church and whom he frequently visited) was at home, very near death, and her husband (Al) was keeping vigil by her side, with the hospice nurse coming by daily to administer pain meds. The woman had been a faithful church member when she was younger, before the cancer, but her husband was known to be a cantankerous old grump who had never darkened the door of the church.”

“My brother asked if, since I was making this big lasagna, would I make a smaller pan for Al. Of course. My husband and I started planning, and I called Al to arrange to stop by and drop the lasagna off on our way to church. This was all quite sudden; it was Christmas Eve early afternoon.”

“Al answered the phone, and I introduced myself as his wife’s pastor’s sister. My brother had told Al to expect our call and told Al that we were new to the area, and that my husband was in the Navy, just as a sort of introduction. I told Al that I was making a lasagna and would like to bring it by in the morning.”

“Well, Al exploded. ‘You’re making a what?’, he yelled. ‘A lasagna’, I repeated. ‘An Italian pasta dish with meat and sauce and cheese’.”

“Al shouted and I held the phone away from my ear. ‘I thought that preacher guy said your husband was in the Navy. Is he a Nazi? I don’t want any %($)@ Mexican food. It’s Christmas, for (@(#’s sake. Why are you asking to make me Mexican Nazi food?’”

“I was stunned. Mexican? Nazi? That’s quite a stretch from lasagna. I didn’t know what to say.”

“Then Al spoke, sternly, spitting out every word. ‘I want a turkey dinner. And gravy. And it better have NO LUMPS. And cranberry sauce. The kind with NO LUMPS. And carrots. The ones cut into round shapes, cooked nice and soft. [my husband silently mouthed to me ‘with NO LUMPS’ and I almost lost it at that point]. And mashed potatoes. With NO LUMPS. You can come at 9 tomorrow morning. GOOD BYE!’ and he slammed the phone down.”

“I looked at my husband, my red-haired Navy husband, and just said ‘Mexican? Nazi? No lumps? A whole turkey dinner? What did we just get into?’ It was now 3 pm Christmas eve.”

“We ran to the car and drove to the supermarket which was closing at 5 pm. There were no turkeys. None. We frantically scanned aisles, and at one point we considered buying frozen tv dinners and re-constructing them to pretend they were homemade.”

“But we couldn’t bring ourselves to do that. This would be Al’s last Christmas, last dinner with his wife of almost 60 years.”

“Then, in the corner of the meat department, I saw a little package among the beef roasts. Could it be a turkey? It had that familiar yellow packaging. Someone must have picked it up, then set it down far from the poultry.”

“It was as if an angel was guarding it. It was a fresh, not frozen, 3 pound hotel-cut turkey breast! I grabbed it like it was a fumbled football that I had to pounce on.”

“A quick run around the store like we were in a race followed, and we soon had potatoes, carrots, jellied cranberry sauce, and sadly, a jar of gravy which we would ordinarily never use, but as my husband kept hissing into my ear every ten seconds ‘no lumps!’ we settled for jarred gravy.”

“The two of us were giggling like fools. We found a nice silver-colored plastic serving tray, and some inexpensive serving bowls that didn’t look like cheap plastic storage tubs, and a pretty little votive candle. Then we raced home to cook.”

“At 9 the next morning, we showed up to Al and Jean’s home, with a tray bearing a beautiful roasted turkey breast, a dish of gravy (LUMP-FREE), mashed potatoes (NO LUMPS), nicely sliced cranberry sauce, perfectly sliced carrots cooked soft and drizzled with butter, a Christmas cookie, and the candle.”

“Al glanced at everything and said not one single word, not even ‘hello’. I asked if I could see Jean, and he nodded. Jean was laying in a rented hospital bed, seemingly unaware of everything, breathing quietly. I set the votive candle (unlit, but in a pretty container) next to her bed and whispered ‘merry Christmas Jean’ and quietly left.”

“Al said nothing. His expression was mean and sneering. He stared at my husband, and I’m sure he was wondering how this handsome man in a United States Navy uniform somehow thought that Mexican Nazi food would be appropriate for Christmas.”

“Al’s eyes narrowed as he suspiciously looked us both over. We told him goodbye and left in fear before he could inspect the meal for lumps. Al had not muttered one single syllable.”

“We heard nothing more, as shortly after that we moved to another Navy base. But about three months later, I got a phone call from a lady who attended the church.”

“She told me ‘I just had the strangest thing happen. I ran into Al at the hardware store. What a mean man he is. But I felt sorry for him and I greeted him’.”

“‘I don’t know if you heard, but Jean died shortly after midnight on Christmas, and Al has been a recluse in the house since then. But he had an errand to do, and when I expressed my condolences, he told me the strangest story. He said that “that preacher” (my brother) asked someone to make him a Christmas dinner’.”

“He said the preacher told him it was his sister, but she’s married to some Mexican and that the dinner was going to be some kind of Nazi food. I thought Al was crazy, but then he described the meal that he got’.”

“‘He remembered everything—the perfect turkey, the smooth gravy and potatoes, the sliced carrots just the way he liked them. And then, his face softened and the mean ugly sneer disappeared’.”

“‘And quietly, without a single curse word, he leaned over and whispered to me: “it was the best meal I ever had, and I ate it beside Jean’s bed and I told her how everything tasted. And I sat there until she died. I don’t know who made it, but that preacher said it was his sister. He’s a liar. But it was the best dinner I ever ate”‘.”

“The woman continued ‘I know you and your husband made the meal, because at the funeral, your brother told me that you had brought a meal to Al the day Jean died. I have no idea where he got the idea you’re married to a Mexican Nazi, but I thought you’d want to know that it was the best Christmas meal ever’.” ~ eb04

May this year bring the happiest of holiday memories for you and yours.