I remember my first Christmas as a Christian.

I was ready to walk through the door into heaven.

It was all the joy that I could handle.

I remember as a young boy growing up in Pittsburgh and always dreaming of a white Christmas.

And it was a tradition in our home to go to the Christmas Eve service every year and that service began at 11 o'clock

but we would have to assemble outside of the church at about quarter after 10

because so many people congregated for that special candle light event.

And it was filled with pageantry in great choral music and at about 13 minutes to 12 the minister would begin his Christmas Eve

homily and just as the clock reached 12 o'clock, in the middle of his sermon, there was a signal

given to the organist, and the organist would play the chimes in the church as if they were

the chimes of a clock striking 12.

And the pastor would stop his sermon in mid-sentence

as the chimes would begin to sound,

one, two, three, four.

And we would all sit there in the pews and count them.

And as soon as the 12th tone had registered,

the pastor would smile to the congregation.

And he would say it's Christmas and may I be the first

on this day to wish you a Merry Christmas.

Well, that used to send chills up and down my spine.

It was a tradition.

He did it every year.

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