When the soft winds of autumn become the harsh winds of winter, there lies a beauty that brings warmth on the coldest day.
A warmth that fills the hearts of children everywhere.
For within each snowflake, within each Christmas carol, and within each unwrapped gift lies hope.
On cold winter nights the brightest star in the sky looks down smiling.
And as we awaken each day, we look around to find a world still dark from the night before. It is then that the Christmas we knew as a child returns to haunt our soul.
The Titusville of Christmas past was filled with restaurants and stores, all family owned. And when schools were let out for the holiday each year, the streets were packed with children of all ages.
The shelves of the Grant’s and Murphy’s stores were filled with toys, and on weekends the downtown businesses were packed with customers.
The eyes of children grew brighter with each day that came closer to the arrival of Santa. And their parents would take them to a city that was small in size, but large in the spirit of the season.
For Titusville has always celebrated the holiday with a joy that touches the souls of loved ones everywhere. For so many people visit this wonderful city during this most wonderful time of the year.
If it’s true that there is no place like home, then Titusville is a hometown for anyone who loves the holidays.
I remember my father ringing the bell for the Salvation Army. It was a simple way of giving back to the community.
Although a few people could only put a small amount of change into the kettle, almost everybody gave something. Despite the fact that is has been years since my father rang the bell at Christmas, it is still rung by others in the community, echoing the love that the people of the Queen City have for each other.
Lights would twinkle against the backdrop of the early evening hours, setting the stage for quiet winter nights by the fireplace, sitting alone reading the Bible or listening to music on the record player.
One of my most memorable experiences in life was attending midnight Mass on Christmas eve while growing up in Titusville.
The small Catholic community of which I was a part was especially close to one another, but never quite as close as it was during this time of year. For at midnight Mass, all of our hearts would beat as one while the choir sang and the stars would shine down from above, spreading light through the stained-glass windows.
And when the priest consecrated the host, the church was filled with the warmth that only people who are reaching out tin the spirit of love can feel.
When I would walk home following the service, that light and that warmth stayed with me through the darkness. And there, underneath the tree, were gifts. But the greatest gift of all was Christmas itself. It was a gift that has stayed with me through all the years of my life.
Tom Boyle is a native of Titusville. He spent four years in the military where he was station overseas and in the United States as a security specialist. He spent a year living in New Hampshire before returning to Titusville where he worked for The Titusville Herald for 28 years. He is now retired but is active in the community.
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