It’s the most wonderful time of the year. The season of festivities has begun. People are full of cheer and excitement.

This year, I searched for Christmas cards on the internet. I found one with a beautiful snow scene that featured an open mailbox that was full of Christmas cards. Although it was a very simple design, it touched something deep inside me. It was nostalgic and reminded me of my childhood.

My dad worked at the Butler post office while I was growing up. We were a family with eight kids, and when the holiday season came, my dad was always excited for the opportunity to work a lot of overtime. He was a mail sorter, and thousands of colorful envelopes passed through his hands before they were delivered. Even though it was exhausting, he was thrilled to be able to afford a few gifts to put under the Christmas tree for each of us.

In those days (1960s), everyone sent Christmas cards. Most people spent hours writing them because each one carried a personalized message.

Rarely did people type a family newsletter that was tucked into every card. Often, folks watched for the mail carrier to come each day. Even when I was growing up, I remember seeing my neighbors standing out by their mailboxes along our road, waiting.

When the mail arrived each day, it was a special delivery that carried a lot of love and cheer.

Not too long ago, I came across a true story my Aunt Dorothy had written about her years growing up in the area now known as Lake Arthur or Moraine State Park. There was an old mining village called Isle, which now lies underwater at the bottom of the huge lake, near the Route 528 bridge.

The town boasted of a big general store called Watson’s. It was like a community center that was always bustling with shoppers, wiggly children and probably the latest gossip. My Aunt Dorothy said that children were always treated with penny candy when they came into the store with their mothers. She remembered taking her candy stick outside, so she could ride on the big porch swing while she waited.

Inside, retired gentlemen, miners and farmers gathered on wooden benches by the old coal stove to keep warm, smoke their pipes and share stories with their neighbors.

There were 13 homes in the village; mostly miners, who earned about $2.50 a day, lived there. The Western Allegheny Railroad ran through the town and carried freight, feed and supplies to the store. The train also delivered appliances, furniture and clothing that folks ordered from the Sears & Roebuck catalogue. Then the train, loaded full of coal, traveled on to Pittsburgh.

In the surrounding area, there were many farms and country homes. My grandfather was the mail carrier for most of his life in that area. From 1913-1922, he covered miles of territory with his favorite harness race horse, Fannie. She pulled a buggy that was always full of letters and packages to be delivered. People would often be waiting by their mailbox, so they could buy some stamps and chat a few minutes to hear the latest news from town. He would also carry their outgoing letters and packages back to the post office for them.

Sometimes, when there was too much mail and packages for my Grandpa Harry to deliver, he would load up another horse and buggy for my grandmother to drive.

She loved to help him, but she was very competitive. When Grandma Pearl had the opportunity to share the mail route with him, she would turn the job into a race to see who could get finished first.

If it was chilly outside, she would eagerly throw a few bricks on the fire to warm while she got ready to go. Then she would wrap those hot bricks in an old blanket to be placed near her feet during the ride. Finally, she would grab her warm, horsehair lap blanket and her whip before hurrying outside to the waiting buggy.

In the winter, the snowy roads were never plowed; they were just packed-down tracks. So, my grandfather would pull out the sleigh and would harness Big Dan to it.

Big Dan was a beautiful sorrel, who was full of pep and energy. When the children saw that big horse and sleigh coming into town with several leather straps of sleigh bells jingling, they all wanted a ride. They squealed with delight sitting in the buggy with the mailman as Big Dan trotted down the road. Then, with rosy cheeks and cheerful hearts, the happy children were delivered back to town.

During those early 1900s, such simple pleasures brought joy, laughter and unforgettable memories for that generation of children. Memories of my own grandparents and dad, who worked hard to deliver Christmas cheer to others, bring a sweet nostalgic pleasure to my heart.

Decades ago, just a week before Christmas, our family doctor announced a special delivery; it’s a girl. After having three boys, my birth was good news that brought great joy to my parents.

As I thought about my birth, God reminded me of a beautiful Christmas song about another special arrival. Over 2,000 years ago, God sent the most ‘special delivery’ ever received by folks waiting, longing for good news to arrive. It didn’t come by mail nor by horse and buggy. No one stood at a mailbox waiting for this unexpected package.

Born of Mary, angels announced Jesus’ birth to shepherds. “And the angel said unto them, ‘Fear not, for behold, I bring to you good news of great joy that will be for all people.’” Luke 2:10

Jesus was sent from heaven, wrapped as a gift of love. He was bound by God’s promise of redemption for all the world. He was filled and sealed by the Holy Spirit to accomplish this work of grace, through which we are saved.

The wondrous miracle of Christmas is Jesus Christ, the story of his life, death and resurrection. May this glorious good news fill you with hope and joy each Christmas season and every day of your life. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, so let’s celebrate God’s most special delivery. “Joy to the world, the Lord has come! Let earth, receive her King!”

This story is from Penn Township resident Susan Protzman’s new book, “As Taught by My Father,” which includes “devotional stories of God weaving a thread of love, grace and wisdom into our life experiences, showing us His Heart.” The illustrator of the book is Georgene Funk.