Is there such a thing as a "Mormon Christmas"?
And if so, what does it look, smell, sound and feel like?
My guess is it probably smells a lot like cookies, sounds a lot like somebody reading scripture and looks a lot like a family home evening.
As for what a Mormon Christmas "feels" like, I know exactly.
It feels like Dec. 24, 1958.
Dylan Thomas, the Welsh poet, wrote a sketch called "A Child's Christmas in Wales."
Here's my "Child's Christmas in Cache Valley."
To begin, Christmas revolved around Grandma. She stood at the center of our clan like a calliope in the middle of a carousel. And we happily danced to whatever tune she played.
There were presents under the tree, of course. And there were stockings hung for Santa.
Norman Rockwell had nothing on us.
But more than that, there were those wonderful moments that happened each year.
I remember that, one by one, the kids would slip off to bed in Grandma's bedroom while the adults gabbed in the living room.
They were waiting for us to nod off.
We were waiting for them to nod off.
It was a Christmas game of "chicken."
My cousin J.D., I recall, would do push-ups to make the time pass faster.
He later became a four-star general in the U.S. Army.
To pass the time, I would close my eyes and sing Christmas carols in my mind.
I later became a third-rate baritone.
In fact, even then, we grandkids were as different as breeds of dogs.
But we had one thing in common.
We loved Grandma.
She had a bad left hand and did everything one-handed, but she did it faster and better than anyone else.
In the fall she'd spend the day driving the tractor for Grandpa, then at night she'd sit at the kitchen table lamp and write poetry.
And every year at Christmas, she'd breathe the breath of life into the holiday.
Jesus was the reason for the season. But Grandma was the seasoning of the season.
In time, we grandkids would go down different roads. We seldom see each other now. But when we do, we soon resurrect Christmas. And Grandma, like Frosty the Snowman, becomes "as alive as you or me."
And that, I think, is a Mormon Christmas. The snow, the carols — even the window dressing — are just window dressing.
A Mormon Christmas is always about loving someone with a child's love.
And if you look back at a "Christmas past" and see such a person, then you, too, have celebrated a Mormon Christmas — whether or not you knew it at the time.
Jerry Johnston is a Deseret News staff writer. "New Harmony" appears weekly in Mormon Times.
e-mail: jerjohn@desnews.com